the sum. They love her, and she loves them, and makes herself very
useful to them. Benevolence sets out on her journey with a good heart,
and puts a good face on it, but is apt to limp and grow feeble, unless
she calls in the aid of self-interest by way of crutch. In Mary's case,
as far as respects those she is with, 'tis well that these principles
are so likely to co-operate. I am rather at a loss sometimes for books
for her,--our reading is somewhat confined, and we have nearly exhausted
our London library. She has her hands too full of work to read much, but
a little she must read; for reading was her daily bread. Have you seen
Bowles's new poem on "Hope?" What character does it bear? Has he
exhausted his stores of tender plaintiveness? or is he the same in this
last as in all his former pieces? The duties of the day call me off from
this pleasant intercourse with my friend--so for the present adieu.

Now for the truant borrowing of a few minutes from business. Have you
met with a new poem called the "Pursuits of Literature?" From the
extracts in the "British Review" I judge it to be a very humorous thing;
in particular I remember what I thought a very happy character of Dr.
Darwin's poetry. Among all your quaint readings did you ever light upon
Walton's "Complete Angler"? I asked you the question once before; it
breathes the very spirit of innocence, purity, and simplicity of heart;
there are many choice old verses interspersed in it; it would sweeten a
man's temper at any time to read it; it would Christianise every
discordant angry passion; pray make yourself acquainted with it. Have
you made it up with Southey yet? Surely one of you two must have been a
very silly fellow, and the other not much better, to fall out like
boarding-school misses; kiss, shake hands, and make it up?

When will he be delivered of his new epic? _Madoc_ I think, is to be the
name of it; though that is a name not familiar to my ears. What progress