You wrote me a very kind & gratifying letter in November last,

which I received at a time when it was not possible to answer it; for from the time you saw me till the middle of February I was perpetually engaged in travelling or in society. During that course of locomotion your circular reached me, & if I could have written any thing for your well-intended volume, in any way tolerable, you should have had it.

But the truth is that from long disuse, I have lost all facility of writing upon occasional subjects. – These matters premised, – now for the reason why I have neglected to write to you ever since. It is not a very good one I confess, & yet such as it is, it must be told. Before I departed from London, Longman sent me Prose by a Poet “from an Old Friend.”

I meant to read it in the country, but when I packed up my boxes for exportation thither, by some accident these volumes were left behind: they had as they were likely to do, found readers, – & it was not till the day before yesterday, that they found their way to me in a box of varieties from the Great City. Meantime in daily expectation of their arrival, I have waited week after week, not liking to thank you for them till I could say that I had perused them with pleasure, – tho that I should peruse any thing of yours with that feeling is what might be with the strictest truth have been said.

Do you know that your vision of Pen, Ink & Paper

has been stolen, & altered to fit the ill-feelings of the thief? – I saw it in a number of the Ladys Magazine,

& had the satisfaction of finding in it as much abuse of myself, as any reasonable man could desire to meet with. By the way, let me tell you, that in your friendly judgement, as expressed in this Vision, you are mistaken in representing me as a rapid writer. Unfortunately I have for many years been a very slow versifier.

Your experiment upon Ossian

confirms a remark which I remember to have heard Coleridge make some five & twenty years ago, that Macphersons rhythm was made up of fragments of hexameters & pentameters. You will see how apparent this is in your own version, – which to my ear is very pleasing.

My heart goes with you in your moral speculations. Such papers as those upon Old Women, & upon Juvenile Delinquency,

cannot be sent into the world without producing some good. I too have been probing the wounds of society, & hope in the course of the next season to send you my speculations upon its Progress & Prospects, in a series of Colloquies;

to which I have prefixed as a motto, three pregnant words from S^t Bernard – Respice; aspice; prospice.

You may differ – yet not I think materially – from some of the opinions advanced there; but the general tendency, & fundamental principles will have your full concurrence. I want more order, more discipline; – less liberty to do ill: – more encouragement – more help – to do well. I want to impress both upon the Rulers & the People a sense of their respective duties. For in truth we have at this time reached a more critical period in the progress of Society, than history has ever before unfolded. The full effects of the discovery of printing have never been apprehended till now; – the pressure of population has never till now been felt in a Christian country – (I hope you know that I abhor Malthus’s abominable views)

– the consequences of an unlimited & illimitable creation of wealth have never before been dreamt of; – & to crown all there is even a probability that the art of war may soon be made so excellently destructive as actually to put an end to it. How I should like to talk with you upon some of these wide-branching subjects – among these mountains.

Before these Colloquies appear I shall show you that I am not altogether defunct as a poet. At present I am in good resolute earnest, finishing my Tale of Paraguay

which was commenced ten years ago. The delay has been in no small degree owing to the choice of metre, – for it is written in Spensers stanza,

which I found very easy four & thirty years ago (when I planned & commenced a continuation of the Faery Queen!)

& now find very difficult. But it suits the meditative character of my story. And now my dear Montgomery forgive my sins of omission & believe me to be with equal esteem & affection

I must not omit to thank you for your offer of hospitality at Sheffield, – I will take that course one day for the purpose of accepting it, when I am travelling alone. Will you give my kind regards to M^r Everett, – & to M^r Elliott if you see him. Once more – farewell – & god bless you.