I was meditating a letter to you my dearest Lady Olivia just as your very kind one reached me; and ever since have been prevented by shoals of company succeding each other so quickly as to leave no interval for any thing I liked. Alas! Alas! I did hope our summer would not have begun so early. I take most kindly and so does Patty your very feeling enquiries. She has had a very bad winter, her state is weak and I have had great apprehensions on her subject. Her spirits are sometimes depressed which is inseparable from bile and fever. I am however thankful to say that the last few days she is considerably better, so that I hope, if it be the will of God, she may rally with the Summer. We shall all I trust be better when we are blessed with a west wind.

You are very good to express so kind a wish to see us at Brampton. Few things would give us more pleasure. But I really think home is the only place for invalids, tho the sick in general seem to act on the direct contrary principle But there is another reason – we have already refused some invitations, to travel with /some/ friends and to go to meet others. Among the latter dear M^rs. H. Thornton^[2] wished us to join her at Malvern in case she should be able to go. It was with reluctance I was obliged to say I feared we should not be able to accomplish it; tho, her sad situation considered, if we did any thing, it ought to be with a view of seeing her. Notwithstanding her Christian exertions, every letter from her seems to wear a deeper shade of woe.

The Harfords spent a couple of days with us last week ; from them I learnt that you do not go to Town. I could hardly believe it, till your kind invitation to us seems to confirm it. The only concern it gives me is, that I fear you do not judge yourself stout enough even for a short London campaign for that I thought was your plan. Pray be specific on this head when you write

A thousand thanks for your attention even to my Amusement, in sending me Walter Scotts last Work .^[3] It was so considerately kind! He cannot but always be a fine Poet, and a great Master of his Art; but this appears to me to be the most defective of his Poems. Like some other people that I could name, not a hundred Miles from Barley Wood, he writes too much. It is true he has an opulent Mind and the stores of his rich imagination are not easily exhausted.

I have been delighted to see the elegant Robert Sparrow in his character of Cicerone to the Saints. He one day came down with M^r. Wilson whom I never saw before and who is a most amiable /Man/ and another with Hugh Pearson an old favorite of mine . His Mentor of course accompanied. It is pleasant to see him easy and cheerful in such sort of company, and they exhibit religion to nam[tear] a pleasing form, without any of that alloy of coa[rse]ness [tear] which by assimilating itself with religion, makes the /young/ fancy that religion itself is worse. The Saints Jubilee at Bristol produced a great harvest.^[4] About 800 to the Missionary only.^[5] – The Jew business promises to revive these,^[6] that I hope will give me a peep at M^r. Way – I sent him my book ,^[7] but know not if he has read it. It is a singular thing, that I have received more encouraging and flattering reports on that book from Bishops and the higher Clergy than from almost any others. I scarcely expected it

I enter heartily into your concern about your Clergyman. It is of such importance! I hope I am furnishing M^r. Dunn with a young Tutor for his little boy of the highest value. But it is only in trial, as my young friend is not yet in orders I trust it will be a mutual benefit

I will not lose time by sending this about to beg a Frank

M^r. Sandford and a party are just gone.