I hope you are better employed than in gaping after weather. I have been at different times so happy as not to know what weather it was--No I will not copy a parcel of verses. I always somehow associate Chatterton with autumn. He is the purest writer in the English Language. He has no French idiom or particles, like Chaucer--'tis genuine English Idiom in English words. I have given up Hyperion--there were too many Miltonic inversions in it--Miltonic verse cannot be written but in an artful, or, rather, artist's humour. I wish to give myself up to other sensations. English ought to be kept up. It may be interesting to you to pick out some lines from Hyperion, and put a mark x to the false beauty proceeding from art, and one || to the true voice of feeling. Upon my soul 'twas imagination--I cannot make the distinction--Every now and then there is a Miltonic intonation--But I cannot make the division properly. The fact is, I must take a walk: for I am writing a long letter to George: and have been employed at it all the morning. You will ask, have I heard from George. I am sorry to say not the best news--I hope for better. This is the reason, among others, that if I write to you it must be in such a scrap-like way. I have no meridian to date interests from, or measure circumstances-- To-night I am all in a mist; I scarcely know what's what--But you knowing my unsteady and vagarish disposition, will guess that all this turmoil will be settled by to-morrow morning. It strikes me to-night that I have led a very odd sort of life for the two or three last years--Here and there--no anchor--I am glad of it.--If you can get a peep at Babbicombe before you leave the country, do.--I think it the finest place I have seen, or is to be seen, in the South. There is a Cottage there I took warm water at, that made up for the tea. I have lately shirk'd some friends of ours, and I advise you to do the same, I mean the blue-devils--I am never at home to them. You need not fear them while you remain in Devonshire--there will be some of the family waiting for you at the Coach office--but go by another Coach. I shall beg leave to have a third opinion in the first discussion you have with Woodhouse--just half-way, between both. You know I will not give up my argument--In my walk to-day I stoop'd under a railing that lay across my path, and asked myself "Why I did not get over." "Because," answered I, "no one wanted to force you under." I would give a guinea to be a reasonable man--good sound sense--a says what he thinks and does what he says man--and did not take snuff. They say men near death, however mad they may have been, come to their senses--I hope I shall here in this letter--there is a decent space to be very sensible in--many a good proverb has been in less--nay, I have heard of the statutes at large being changed into the Statutes at Small and printed for a watch paper.