Old England, and it might well be maintained that these were the
happiest years of his life. He was mentally so cosmopolitan, so
much at ease in the world, that here in London he readily found
himself at home indeed. The business of his particular mission,
strictly attended to, occupied no great part of his time. He
devoted long days to his beloved scientific experiments, and
carried on a voluminous correspondence with David Hume and Lord
Kames, and with many other men of note in England, France, and
Italy. He made journeys, to Holland, to Cambridge, to ancestral
places and the homes of surviving relatives; but mostly, one may
imagine, he gave himself to a steady flow of that "agreeable and
instructive conversation" of which he was so much the master and
the devotee. He was more famous than he knew, and the reception
that everywhere awaited him was flattering, and as agreeable to
his unwarped and emancipated mind as it was flattering. "The
regard and friendship I meet with," he confesses, "and the
conversation of ingenious men, give me no small pleasure"; and at
Cambridge, "my vanity was not a little gratified by the
particular regard shown me by the Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor
of the University, and the Heads of the Colleges." As the years
passed, the sense of being at ease among friends grew stronger;
the serene and placid letters to "Dear Debby" became rather less
frequent; the desire to return to America was much attenuated.

How delightful, indeed, was this Old England! "Of all the
enviable things England has," he writes, "I envy it most its
people.... Why should this little island enjoy in almost
every neighborhood more sensible, virtuous, and elegant minds,
than we can collect in ranging one hundred leagues of our vast
forests?" What a proper place for a philosopher to spin out the