68 — To William Bankes[1]

For my own part, I have suffered severely in the decease of my two greatest friends, the only beings I ever loved (females excepted); I am therefore a solitary animal, miserable enough, and so perfectly a citizen of the world, that whether I pass my days in Great Britain or Kamschatka, is to me a matter of perfect indifference. I cannot evince greater respect for your alteration than by immediately adopting it — this shall be done in the next edition. I am sorry your remarks are not more frequent, as I am certain they would be equally beneficial.

[Since]

my last, I have received two critical opinions from Edinburgh, both too flattering for me to detail. One is from Lord Woodhouselee

[2]

, at the head of the Scotch literati, and a most

voluminous

writer (his last work is a

Life