naming no distant day, that I may not be elsewhere when you call, and you will much oblige, yours sincerely, “ROBERT LOWTH.” “P.S.—In your address to me you must not name _Chiswick_, but Grove House, Turnham Green, as otherwise it goes into another postman’s walk, who walks it back again to the office, and it does not reach me, per Turnham Green, peripatetic, till the next day, which is _toute autre chose_.” Colman seems to have been sincerely delighted at the receipt of this letter; he answered it immediately, expressing to his old friend how much he had gratified him, and how readily he accepted the invitation. “After refreshing my friend’s memory,” says Colman, “by touching on some particulars which have already been mentioned, I informed him that I was of late years in the habit of suburban rustication, and that I had passed a considerable part of my summers in a house where I was intimate at Fulham, whither I desired him to direct to me, as much nearer Chiswick than my own abode, being within a few hundred yards of his old family residence, where we last parted. Whenever I was at this place, I told him the avenue and bishop’s walk by the river side, the public precincts of the moated episcopal domain, had become my favourite morning and evening lounge. I told him, indeed, merely the fact, omitting all commentary attached to it, for often had I then, and oftener have I since, in a solitary stroll down the avenue, thought of him, regretting the wide chasm in our intercourse, and musing upon human events.” There is a regret expressed by Colman that he kept no copy of his answer, “which,” he adds, “was written in the ‘flow of soul,’ and at the impulse of the moment?” Mr. Lowth wrote in reply to Colman, detailing in a most amusing manner his having, in the pursuit of two Cockneys, who had made an attack upon a grove of Orleans plum-trees in his grounds, taken cold, which confined him to his room. “But for this _inter poculum et labra_,” continued Mr. Lowth, “it was my intention to have made you my first _post restante_, with, perhaps, a walk down the old avenue, in my way to town, that identical day; and, still hoping to accomplish three miles and back, I have hoped from day to day, but I cannot get in travelling condition, even for so short a journey. Therefore I hope you will send me word by my new Yorkshire groom lad, that you will take pot-luck with me on Sunday as the most likely day for you to suburbise.”