thus enjoy be but short, yet perhaps I relish it more keenly even on this very account; and when I am engaged, I ought to think how very many situations in life might have separated me from my wife's society, not for hours only, but for months, or even years; whereas now I have not slept from home once since I have been married; nor am I likely for the greatest part of the year to do so. The garden is a constant source of amusement to us both; there are always some little alterations to be made, some few spots where an additional shrub or two would be ornamental, something coming into blossom, or some crop for the more vulgar use of the table coming into season; so that I can always delight to go round and see how things are going on. Our snowdrops are now just thrusting their heads out of the ground, and I to-day gathered a pink primrose. Trevenen comes over generally about twice a week to see us, and often stays to dine with us; Whately and Blackstone have also at different times paid us visits, and Mary was very much pleased with them both. . . . . . We set off for Fledborough so soon as the holidays begin, which will be next Wednesday week, and think of staying there almost to the end of them; only allowing time for a visit to dear old Oxford, when I will try hard to get Mary to Bagley Wood, and show her the tree where you and Tucker and I were once perched all together. I am now far better off than I formerly was in point of lectures; for I have one in Thucydides, and another in Aristotle's Ethics; if you dive in the former of these, as I suppose you do, it will be worth your while to get Poppo's "Observationes Criticæ in Thucydidem," a small pamphlet published at Leipzig, in 1815, and by far the best thing-indeed one may say the only good one-that has ever yet been written on the subject. I have been very highly delighted with it, and so I think would any one be, who has as much interest in Thucydides as we have, who have been acquainted with him so long. Another point concerning my trade has puzzled me a good deal. It has been my wish to avoid giving my pupils any Greek to do on a Sunday, so that we do Greek Testament on other days; but on the Sunday always do some English book; and they read so much, and then I ask them questions in it. But I find it almost impossible to make them read a mere English book with sufficient attention to be able to answer questions out of it; or if they do cram themselves for the time, they are sure to forget it directly after. I have been thinking, therefore, of making them take notes of the sermon, after our Oriel fashion

but this does not quite satisfy me; and as you are a man of experience, I should like to know what your plan is, and whether you have found the same difficulty which I complain of. I have a great deal to hear about you all, and I shall be very glad to have tidings of you, and especially to know how Charles is going on, if you have yet heard from him; and also how Hubert is faring, to whom I beg you will give my love. It is idle to lay schemes for a time six months distant, but I do hope to see you in Devonshire in the summer, if you are at home, as we have something of a plan for going into Cornwall to see my innumerable relations there. I heard from Tucker about a week since—perhaps his last letter from Oxford; it quite disturbs me to think of it. And so he will set up at Malling after all, and by and by perhaps we shall see the problem solved, whether he has lost his heart or no. I cannot make out when we are all to see one another, if we all take pupils, and all leave home in the vacations. I think we must fix some inn on some great road, as the place where we may meet en passant once a year. How goes on poetry? With me it is gone, I suppose for ever, and prose too, as far as writing is concerned; for I do nothing now in that way, save sermons and letters. But this matters little. Have you seen or heard of Cramer's book about Hannibal's passage of the Alps? It is, I think, exceedingly good, and I rejoice for the little club's sake. I have been this day to Egham, to sign my name to a loyal address to the king from the gentlemen and householders of this neighbourhood, expressing our confidence in the wisdom and vigour of the constituted authorities. I hope this would please Dyson. I must now leave off scribbling. Adieu, my dear Cornish: Mary begs to join me in all kind wishes and regards to you and yours; and so would all at the other two houses, if they were at hand.

IX. TO J. T. COLERIDGE, ESQ.

(In answer to criticisms on a review of Poppo's Observationes Criticæ.)

Laleham Garden, April 25, 1821.

Now for your remarks on my Poppo. All clumsiness in the sentences, and want of connexion between the parts, I will do my best to amend; and the censure on verbal criticism I will either soften or scratch out entirely, for J. Keble objected to the same part. The translations also I will try to improve, and indeed I am aware

of their baldness. The additions which you propose I can make readily; but as to the general plainness of the style, I do not think I clearly see the fault which you allude to, and to say the truth, the plainness, i. e. the absence of ornament and long words, is the result of deliberate intention. At any rate, in my own case, I am sure an attempt at ornament would make my style so absurd that you would yourself laugh at it. I could not do it naturally, for I have now so habituated myself to that unambitious and plain way of writing, and absence of Latin words as much as possible, that I could not write otherwise without manifest affectation. Of course I do not mean to justify awkwardnesses and clumsy sentences, of which I am afraid my writings are too full, and all which I will do my best to alter wherever you have marked them; but anything like puff, or verbal ornament, I cannot bring myself to. Richness of style I admire heartily, but this I cannot attain to for lack of power. All I could do would be to produce a bad imitation of it, which seems to me very ridiculous. For the same reason I know not how to make the review more striking; I cannot make it so by its own real weight and eloquence, and therefore I think I should only make it offensive by trying to make it fine. Do consider what you recommend is ἁπλῶς ἄριστον, but I must do what is ἄριστον ἐμοὶ. You know you always told me I should never be a poet, and in like manner I never could be really eloquent, for I have not the imagination or fulness of mind needful to make me so.

X. TO REV. JOHN TUCKER.

Laleham, October 21, 1822.

I have not much to say in the way of news; so I will notice that part of your letter which speaks of my not employing myself on something theological. You must remember that what I am doing in Greek and Roman History is only my amusement during the single hour of the day that I can employ on any occupation of my own, namely, between nine and ten in the evening. With such limited time, it would be ridiculous to attempt any work which required much labour, and which could not be promoted by my common occupations with my pupils. The Grecian History is just one of the things I can do most easily; my knowledge of it beforehand is pretty full, and my lectures are continually keeping the subject before my mind; so that to write about it is really my re

creation; and the Roman History is the same to me, though in a less degree. I could not name any other subject equally familiar, or which, in my present circumstances, would be practicable, and certainly if I can complete plain and popular histories of Greece and Rome, of a moderate size, cleared of nonsense and unchristian principles, I do not think I shall be amusing myself ill for as I now am, I could. not do anything besides my proper work that was not an amusement. For the last fortnight, during which I have had two sermons to write, I have not been able to do a word of my History; and it will be the same this week, if I write some letters which I wish to write : so that you see I am in no condition to undertake anything of real labour. Be assured there is nothing I would so gladly do as set about a complete Ecclesiastical History; and I love to fancy myself so engaged at some future time, if I live: but to begin such a thing now would be utterly desperate. The want of books alone, and my inability to consult libraries, would be a sufficient hindrance. I have read a new book lately, which is rather an event for me, Jowett's Christian Researches in the Mediterranean. You know it of course, and I doubt not like it as much as I do, which is very much indeed. It is a very wonderful and a very beautiful thing to see the efforts made on so large a scale, and with motives so pure, to diffuse all good both temporal and spiritual; and I suppose that the world is gradually dividing more and more into two divided parties of good and evil,—the lukewarm and the formal Christians are, I imagine, daily becoming less numerous. I am puzzled beyond measure what to think about Ireland. What good can be done permanently with a people who literally do make man's life as cheap as beasts'; and who are content to multiply in idleness and in such beggary that the first failure of a crop brings them to starvation? I would venture to say that luxury never did half so much harm as the total indifference to comfort is doing in Ireland, by leading to a propagation of the human species in a state of brutality. I should think that no country in the world needs missionaries so much, and in none would their success be so desperate.

XI. TO J. T. COLERIDGE, ESQ.

Laleham, March 3, 1823.

I do not know whether you have ever seen John

Keble's Hymns. He has written a great number for most of the

holidays and several of the Sundays in the year, and I believe intends to complete the series. I live in hopes that he will be induced to publish them; and it is my firm opinion that nothing equal to them exists in our language: the wonderful knowledge of Scripture, the purity of heart, and the richness of poetry which they exhibit, I never saw paralleled. If they are not published, it will be a great neglect of doing good. I wish you could see them; the contemplation of them would be a delightful employment for your walks between Hadlow Street and the Temple. . Have you heard anything more about's Roman History? I am really anxious to know what sort of a man he is, and whether he will write like a Christian or no; if he will I have not a wish to interfere with him; if not, I would labour very hard indeed to anticipate him, and prevent an additional disgrace from being heaped upon the historical part of our literature.

XII. TO THE REV. JOHN TUCKER.

Laleham, February 22, 1824.

My pupils all come up into the drawing-room a little before tea, and stay for some time, some reading, others talking, playing chess or backgammon, looking at pictures, &c.-a great improvement if it lasts; and if this fair beginning continues, I care not a straw for the labour of the half year, for it is not labour but vexation which hurts a man, and I find my comfort depends more and more on their good and bad conduct. They are an awful charge, but still to me a very interesting one, and one which I could cheerfully pursue till my health or faculties fail me. Moreover, I have now taken up the care of the Workhouse, i. e. as far as going there once a week to read prayers and give a sort of lecture upon some part of the Bible. I wanted to see more of the poor people, and I found that unless I devoted a regular time to it, I should never do it, for the hunger for exercise on the part of myself and my horses, used to send me out riding as soon as my work was done; whereas now I give up Thursday to the village, and it will be my own fault if it does not do me more good than the exercise would. You have heard I suppose of Trevenen's tour with me to Scotland. Independent of the bodily good which it did me, and which I really wanted, I have derived from it the benefit of getting rid of some prejudices, for I find myself often thinking of Edinburgh quite