You said something about Mr. Mitford in a late letter, which I believe I did not advert to. I shall be happy to show him my Milton (it is all the show things I have) at any time he will take the trouble of a jaunt to Islington. I do also hope to see Mr. Tayler there some day. Pray say so to both. Coleridge's book is in good part printed, but sticks a little for more copy. It bears an unsalable title,—"Extracts from Bishop Leighton;" but I am confident there will be plenty of good notes in it,—more of Bishop Coleridge than Leighton in it, I hope; for what is Leighton? Do you trouble yourself about libel cases? The decision against Hunt for the "Vision of Judgment" made me sick. What is to become of the good old talk about our good old king,—his personal virtues saving us from a revolution, etc.? Why, none that think can utter it now. It must stink. And the "Vision" is as to himward such a tolerant, good-humored thing! What a wretched thing a Lord Chief Justice is, always was, and will be!
Keep your good spirits up, dear B. B., mine will return; they are at present in abeyance, but I am rather lethargic than miserable. I don't know but a good horsewhip would be more beneficial to me than physic. My head, without aching, will teach yours to ache. It is well I am getting to the conclusion. I will send a better letter when I am a better man. Let me thank you for your kind concern for me (which I trust will have reason soon to be dissipated), and assure you that it gives me pleasure to hear from you.
Yours truly,
C. L.
[1] Letter LXXIX.
LXXXI.
TO BERNARD BARTON
April, 1824.
Dear B.B.,—I am sure I cannot fill a letter, though I should disfurnish my skull to fill it; but you expect something, and shall have a notelet. Is Sunday, not divinely speaking, but humanly and holiday-sically, a blessing? Without its institution, would our rugged taskmasters have given us a leisure day so often, think you, as once in a month? or, if it had not been instituted, might they not have given us every sixth day? Solve me this problem. If we are to go three times a-day to church, why has Sunday slipped into the notion of a _holi_day? A HOLY-day, I grant it. The Puritans, I have read in Southey's book, knew the distinction. They made people observe Sunday rigorously, would not let a nurserymaid walk out in the fields with children for recreation on that day. But then they gave the people a holiday from all sorts of work every second Tuesday. This was giving to the two Cæsars that which was his respective. Wise, beautiful, thoughtful, generous legislators! Would Wilberforce give us our Tuesdays? No; he would turn the six days into sevenths,—
"And those three smiling seasons of the year
Into a Russian winter."
OLD PLAY.