rest your fame on it.  The best remaining things are what I have before read, and they lose nothing by my recollection of your manner of reciting ’em, for I too bear in mind “the voice, the look,” of absent friends, and can occasionally mimic their manner for the amusement of those who have seen ’em.  Your impassioned manner of recitation I can recall at any time to mine own heart and to the ears of the bystanders.  I rather wish you had left the monody on Chatterton concluding, as, it did, abruptly.  It had more of unity.  The conclusion of your “Religious Musicgs,” I fear, will entitle you to the reproof of your beloved woman, who wisely will not suffer your fancy to run riot, but bids you walk humbly with your God.  The very last words, “I exercise my young novitiate thought in ministeries of heart-stirring song,” though not now new to me, cannot be enough admired.  To speak politely, they are a well-turned compliment to poetry.  I hasten to read “Joan of Arc,” etc.  I have read your lines at the beginning of second book; [1] they are worthy of Milton, but in my mind yield to your “Religious Musings.”  I shall read the whole carefully, and in some future letter take the liberty to particularize my opinions of it.  Of what is new to me among your poems next to the “Musings,” that beginning “My Pensive Sara” gave me most pleasure.  The lines in it I just alluded to are most exquisite; they made my sister and self smile, as conveying a pleasing picture of Mrs. C. checking your wild wanderings, which we were so fond of hearing you indulge when among us.  It has endeared us more than anything to your good lady, and your own self-reproof that follows delighted us.  ’T is a charming poem throughout (you have well remarked that charming, admirable, exquisite are the words expressive of feelings more than conveying of ideas, else I might plead very well want of room in my paper as excuse for generalizing).  I want room to tell you how we are charmed with your verses in the manner of Spenser, etc.  I am glad you resume the “Watchman.”  Change the name; leave out all articles of news, and whatever things are peculiar to newspapers, and confine yourself to ethics, verse, criticism; or, rather, do not confine yourself.  Let your plan be as diffuse as the “Spectator,” and I ’ll answer for it the work prospers.  If I am vain enough to think I can be a contributor, rely on my inclinations.  Coleridge, in reading your “Religious Musings,” I felt a transient superiority over you.  I have seen Priestley.  I love to see his name repeated in your writings.  I love and honor him almost profanely.  You would be charmed with his Sermons, if you never read ’em.  You have doubtless read his books illustrative of the doctrine of Necessity.  Prefixed to a late work of his in answer to Paine, there is a preface giving an account of the man and his services to men, written by Lindsey, his dearest friend, well worth your reading.

Tuesday Eve.—­Forgive my prolixity, which is yet too brief for all I could wish to say.  God give you comfort, and all that are of your household!  Our loves and best good-wishes to Mrs. C.