quaint? Accept my thanks, in common with those of all who love good
poetry, for "The Braes of Yarrow." I congratulate you on the enemies you
must have made by your splendid invective against the barterers in human
flesh and sinews. Coleridge, you will rejoice to hear that Cowper is
recovered from his lunacy, and is employed on his translation of the
Italian, etc., poems of Milton for an edition where Fuseli presides as
designer. Coleridge, to an idler like myself, to write and receive
letters are both very pleasant; but I wish not to break in upon your
valuable time by expecting to hear very frequently from you. Reserve
that obligation for your moments of lassitude, when you have nothing
else to do; for your loco-restive and all your idle propensities, of
course, have given way to the duties of providing for a family. The mail
is come in, but no parcel; yet this is Tuesday. Farewell, then, till
to-morrow; for a niche and a nook I must leave for criticisms. By the
way, I hope you do not send your own only copy of "Joan of Arc;" I will
in that case return it immediately.

Your parcel _is_ come; you have been _lavish_ of your presents.

Wordsworth's poem I have hurried through, not without delight. Poor
Lovell! my heart almost accuses me for the light manner I lately spoke
of him, not dreaming of his death. My heart bleeds for your accumulated
troubles; God send you through 'em with patience. I conjure you dream
not that I will ever think of being repaid; the very word is galling to
the ears. I have read all your "Religious Musings" with uninterrupted
feelings of profound admiration. You may safely rest your fame on it.
The best remaining things are what I have before read, and they lose
nothing by my recollection of your manner of reciting 'em, for I too
bear in mind "the voice, the look," of absent friends, and can
occasionally mimic their manner for the amusement of those who have seen