Much to my vexation, & the more so, because it has been in some degree by my fault, your letter of June 29 has only this day come to my hands. Reasons not worth explaining here having made me put off my southern expedition from summer till the latter end of autumn,

I desired my brother to send me such letters as might be waiting for me, – in an official frank. Had this been done yours would have arrived with little more delay than its circuitous route would have occasioned. But instead of this he sent them by a private hand, & they have been Heaven knows where, in their course.

I hope this will find you xxx at Leamington & still with the intention of proceeding. We have had the worst weather that I remember in this country; it is well that you have not been here to be imprisoned by it; – & we live in hopes of being recompensed for it by a fine autumn. I do not believe you could find any air more restorative than that of these mountains. A very intimate friend of mine had been very long & dangerously affected with an inflammation of the liver.

His physician acknowledged afterwards that he sent him here to die: & indeed I never was more shocked than when I first saw him. But I took him on the lake & on the fells, – & the result was that in two months he went back, thoroughly recovered, & has never had the slightest recurrence of the complaint for thirteen years.

You shall hear about my Book

when we meet. Tell me you are coming, & what accommodation you want, that we may look out a lodging for you – Would that you were here at this moment to see one of our splendid sunsets, one too that promises fine weather for tomorrow.