_Paris, April 3, 1802_.
Circumstances have at length occurred to recall me to England, and as
this will, probably, be the last letter that you will receive from me
before I have the pleasure of taking you by the hand, I shall devote
it to miscellaneous subjects, and, without studying any particular
arrangement, speak of them at random, just as they chance to present
themselves.
A fellow-creature, whose care-worn countenance and emaciated body
claimed a mite from any one who had a mite to bestow, had taken his
stand at the gate-way just now as I entered. The recollection of his
tale of woe being uppermost in my mind, I begin with