You write me a letter dated the 16th, in which you tell me you have sent me something; doubtless you suppose you have done so, but you have not. How goes on the next number? I am always afraid to ask this question, because I always expect to hear that the Review is dead or dying. I have but one occupation now,—building a house, which requires all my time and attention: I live trowel in hand.
I am much disappointed at ——. I had expected him to turn out a second Demosthenes, or even a second Jeffrey; how very much it must surprise you that anybody stops who has begun to speak!
I long very much to see you: we are old friends, I have a great affection for you, and admiration of your understanding, yet we never meet; some spell binds you to Edinburgh,—that town where so many philo-
MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH. | 105 |
The Miss —— are to come down to us in the month of June; why not come and marry ——? I will answer for it she will have you; by the bye, I hear you are going to be married, but that I have heard so many times, that it produces no impression on me. Mackintosh says you are the cleverest man he ever met with in his life.