You speak of the possibility of giving us a visit; I need scarcely assure you how greatly it would delight us all; I fear, however, that Sir George will have left us, unless you are somewhat agile in your movements. I have been apprised by him (though quite confidentially) of his kind intentions towards yourself. How astonished should I have been at their realization, and how unspeakably rejoiced. But still all is well; and if time discover not this, faith can tell us of an important day that will. You lay on me, my endeared friend, a next to impossible injunction; what a string of kind affectionate inquiries relative to my own procedures, personally, parochially, domestically. My labours, I trust, are not altogether in vain in the Lord; our congregation has been increasing ever since I came here, and this year the church was enlarged to nearly double its former size, and the additional pews were all let in three or four days after they were offered for rental. Some few of my people seem to have been under gracious influence, and have given me much of encouragement and hope. And my people at large show me much kindness, and appear attached to my ministrations. Socially and domestically we have much of comfort. Good house and premises, good servants, one of whom has been with us twenty-three years—and good neighbourhood—pleasant distance (twelve or thirteen miles) from Toronto—almost every English comfort within our reach, not to say every luxury. The only cause of regret, perhaps, is that in these matters we are going too much a-head. We are far too gay, as a neighbourhood, for my simple liking. A few evenings since, one gentleman had a party of sixty persons present, many more invited, with a part of the band of the 93rd regiment, from Toronto. And very shortly after, another of my congregation had a still gayer and more extensive assemblage. But you will now begin to sigh over my interminable and undecipherable scrawl; and therefore, in simple pity to your straining eyes, I shall only add, that with most affectionate and Christian regards, in which my whole family unite, to yourself and dear Mrs. A., I remain, Your ever attached, though unworthy friend, GEORGE MORTIMER. * * * * *