when I before entertained an idea of them.  You asked me what inclined John’s thoughts to the Church.  It would be hard to say; or rather, I ought to say, that Providence which in its own good time makes choice of its instruments, and which I ever firmly trusted would not suffer my brother’s fine powers to be wasted on unworthy aims.  I am not able to say how the change which has taken place in his opinions and sentiments was effected; but you know one has not done all one’s thinking at two and twenty.  I have been by circumstances much separated from my brother, and when with him have had but little communication upon such subjects.  It was at a time when, I think, his religious principles were somewhat unsettled, that his mind was so passionately absorbed by politics.  The nobler instincts of his nature, diverted for a while from due direct intercourse with their divine source, turned themselves with enthusiastic, earnest hope to the desire of benefiting his fellow-creatures; and to these aims—­the reformation of abuses, the establishment of a better system of government, the gradual elevation and improvement of the people, and the general progress of the country towards enlightened liberty and consequent prosperity—­he devoted all his thoughts.  This was the period of his fanatical admiration for Jeremy Bentham and Mill, who, you know, are our near neighbors here, and whose houses we never pass without John being inclined to salute them, I think, as the shrines of some beneficent powers of renovation.  And here comes the break in our intercourse and in my knowledge of his mental and moral progress.  I went to Scotland, and was amazed, after I had been there some time, to hear from my mother that John had not got his scholarship, and had renounced his intention of going to the bar and determined to study for the Church.  I returned home, and found him much changed.  His high sense of the duties attending it makes me rejoice most sincerely that he has chosen that career, which may not be the surest path to worldly advancement, but if conscientiously followed must lead, I should think, to the purest happiness this life can offer.  I think much of this change may be attributed to the example and influence of some deservedly dear friends of his; probably something to the sobering effect of the disappointment and mortification of his failure at college, where such sanguine hopes and expectations of his success had been entertained.  Above all, I refer his present purpose to that higher influence which has followed him through all his mental wanderings, suggesting the eager inquiries of his restless and dissatisfied spirit, and finally leading it to this, its appointed goal.  He writes to us in high spirits from Germany, and his letters are very delightful.

Mrs. Siddons and Cecy are with Mrs. Kemble at Leamington.  Mrs. Harry Siddons is, I fear, but little better; she has had another attack of erysipelas, and I am very anxious to