I would fain have let M^rs C’s hopes concerning Hartley die gradually, of a natural death, but the position in which M^r Gillman

has placed me, made this impossible. I therefore put both the letters into her hands.

My sincere hope is that H. may not accept M^r Dawes invitation.

The scheme of sending him to be under his mothers eye is so preposterous, even if it were possible. What authority can a mother exercise over a man of six & twenty,—the very disease of whose nature is an impatience of all ordinary observances, & <of>, the restraints which he owes to himself as well as others! – I cannot understand how xxxx Coleridge can be kept in ignorance of his sons conduct, – nor indeed how he can be ignorant of it at this time, if it has been such as to render his abode at Highgate impossible, & to eject him from Montagues: knowing these irregularities, what is there in a fresh instance which is to prove fatal to him if revealed?

M^r Gillmans drift is evident, & I am surprized that he should have formed so senseless a scheme. By his own account the possibility of H’s obtaining testimonials is now postponed sine die:

I believe indeed for ever. He has no means of living but by his pen; this we all know to be a miserable thing, but he has brought himself to it, & nothing remains but to make the best of it. But to live thus he must be in London, upon the spot, within reach of books & booksellers, editors to set him to work, & printers devils to goad him for copy. The same habits which disqualify him for orders, unfit him also for a tutor. Writing is his only resource; & it is in London that he must follow it.

There has been no letter either from H. or Jamieson.

If you have not heard that they have already packed him off for Westmorland, I think you had better write to M^r Gillman & tell him our thorough disapprobation of the scheme; & remind him, which he seems to have forgotten, that M^rs C. has no establishment in which he can be received.—I have vexations & burdens enough of my own, God knows, —& of a hopeless kind, to which there will be no end as long as I live.