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A Memoir of the Reverend Sydney Smith
Letters 1844
Sydney Smith to Lady Grey, 20 August 1844

Author's Preface
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Editor’s Preface
Letters 1801
Letters 1802
Letters 1803
Letters 1804
Letters 1805
Letters 1806
Letters 1807
Letters 1808
Letters 1809
Letters 1810
Letters 1811
Letters 1812
Letters 1813
Letters 1814
Letters 1815
Letters 1816
Letters 1817
Letters 1818
Letters 1819
Letters 1820
Letters 1821
Letters 1822
Letters 1823
Letters 1824
Letters 1825
Letters 1826
Letters 1827
Letters 1828
Letters 1829
Letters 1830
Letters 1831
Letters 1832
Letters 1833
Letters 1834
Letters 1835
Letters 1836
Letters 1837
Letters 1838
Letters 1839
Letters 1840
Letters 1841
Letters 1842
Letters 1843
Letters 1844
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Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.
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Combe Florey, Aug. 20th, 1844.
My dear Lady Grey,

I don’t hear a word about the war, but your correspondents are much more likely to be well-informed upon this point than mine. There are not two more intelligent men in the kingdom than Wood and
Howick; and they write from the great news-market. I mean to go, on Tuesday, 27th, to the sea-side, at Sidmouth, with Mrs. Sydney, there to stay some days. It is exactly a place to suit you to winter in; so warm, beautiful, and sheltered;—and very good houses for nothing.

I am thinking of writing a pamphlet to urge the necessity of paying the Catholic clergy; but the ideas are all so trite, and the arguments so plain and easy, that I gape at the thoughts of such a production. Lord Grey can have no doubt of the wisdom of paying the Catholic clergy. I should like very much to go to Ireland for a fortnight; I am sure I could learn a great deal in that time; but the indolence, the timidity, and the uncertain health of old-age keep me at home.

Don’t talk of giving up the world,—we shall all meet again in Berkeley-square. Lady Georgiana will play the harp, the physician will sing, —— will look melancholy, and Lady Caroline will be making shrewd remarks to herself; I shall be all that is orthodox and proper; Lord Grey will be inclined to laugh.

God bless you, dear Lady Grey!

S. S.