The harvest here is got in without any rain. I mean, the wheat harvest. The cider is such an enormous crop, that it is sold at ten shillings per hogshead; so that a human creature may lose his reason for a penny.
I continue to be delighted with the country. My parsonage will be perfection. The only visitor I have had here is Mr. Jeffrey, who, I believe (though he richly deserves that good fortune), is scarcely known to Lord Grey and yourself. A man of rare talent and unbending integrity, who has been honest even in
298 | MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH. |
Talking of honest men, I beg to be remembered to Lord Howick, on whom I lay great stress; from his understanding, rank, and courage, he will be an important personage in the days to come. Pat him on the back, and tell him that the safety and welfare of a country depend in a great measure on men like himself. Pray tell us of some good books to send for from the Subscription Library. I would tell you, if I had looked at any other book than the ‘Builders’ Price Book.’ They are opposing poor Sir Thomas Lethbridge for the county of Somerset. I mean to vote and do everything I can for him: it is right to encourage converts.
Eternal rain here. Mr. Jeffrey wanted to persuade me that myrtles grew out-of-doors in Scotland, as here. Upon cross-examination, it turned out they were prickly, and that many had been destroyed by the family donkey.