Lady Lonsdale [33] is living at Leeds with Lady Elizabeth, who I fear is little, if any, better. And though Lady Lonsdale is willing to flatter herself, I fear she is too ill to be relieved by Grosvenor's plan of friction which is what they are now trying. _She has five people to rub her at once_. Do send me some particulars of Miss Drummond's wedding. I hear such various stories--one that she was married in an old riding habit with a red scarf round her neck. The recipient of Mrs Stanhope's correspondence, her son John, was at this date completing his education at Edinburgh, under the auspices of the famous Dugald Stewart, Professor of Moral Philosophy, who the year previously had received from the Whig Government a sinecure worth £600. Judging, however, by Mrs Stanhope's reference in the following letter to the kindly ministrations of a certain "Miss Anne," Moral Philosophy was not the only study which was engrossing the attention of John Stanhope. CANNON HALL, _November 23rd, 1807._ After the long quiz you will this morning receive from Marianne, perhaps a matter-of-fact letter from your mother may not be unacceptable, and if your weather in any degree resembles ours, the post will be a person held by you in great estimation, as you sit freezing over your fire. I sincerely hope that Miss Anne's pills and grey Dinnark had the desired effect and that you are now quite in Ball trim. I like your account of Dugald Stewart and hope you retain a great deal of the knowledge which flows from his mouth. How I should like to hear him! For Moral Philosophy is my favourite study. Your account of your dinners amused us. Sir John Sinclair [34] always collects from all quarters of the Globe; sometimes he mixes them oddly, but I think his dinners are not disagreeable. Knox, with whom you dined, lives in Grosvenor Street, his mother gives balls, and Mrs Beaumont expects she will be with her at Christmas on her road from Ireland. It now snows as fast as possible. Thursday was a very bad day, and we have had severe frost ever since. I do not ever remember so determined a snow before Xmas, and all the old people foretell a hard winter. Sir John Smith [35] is dead. Mrs Marriott [36] tried to be sorry, but when she recollected it would enable the Smiths to live in town and a hundred other _et ceteras_, for the life of her she could not grieve; and in truth he was not a man to be much regretted, he was of too selfish a character to be either much loved or esteemed. We are much amused at the extract which you have sent us from Drummond Castle. The extract in question, which was enclosed in this letter, runs as follows:--