St. James's Street, March 18. 1809.

"There was no necessity for your excuses: if you have time and
inclination to write, 'for what we receive, the Lord make us
thankful,'--if I do not hear from you I console myself with the idea
that you are much more agreeably employed.

"I send down to you by this post a certain Satire lately published,
and in return for the three and sixpence expenditure upon it, only beg
that if you should guess the author, you will keep his name secret; at
least for the present. London is full of the Duke's business. The
Commons have been at it these last three nights, and are not yet come
to a decision. I do not know if the affair will be brought before our
House, unless in the shape of an impeachment. If it makes its
appearance in a debatable form, I believe I shall be tempted to say
something on the subject.--I am glad to hear you like Cambridge:
firstly, because, to know that you are happy is pleasant to one who
wishes you all possible sub-lunary enjoyment; and, secondly, I admire
the morality of the sentiment. _Alma Mater_ was to me _injusta
noverca_; and the old beldam only gave me my M.A. degree because she
could not avoid it.--[102]You know what a farce a noble Cantab. must
perform.

"I am going abroad, if possible, in the spring, and before I depart I
am collecting the pictures of my most intimate schoolfellows; I have
already a few, and shall want yours, or my cabinet will be incomplete.
I have employed one of the first miniature painters of the day to take
them, of course, at my own expense, as I never allow my acquaintance
to incur the least expenditure to gratify a whim of mine. To mention
this may seem indelicate; but when I tell you a friend of ours first
refused to sit, under the idea that he was to disburse on the
occasion, you will see that it is necessary to state these
preliminaries to prevent the recurrence of any similar mistake. I
shall see you in time, and will carry you to the _limner_. It will be
a tax on your patience for a week, but pray excuse it, as it is
possible the resemblance may be the sole trace I shall be able to
preserve of our past friendship and acquaintance. Just now it seems
foolish enough, but in a few years, when some of us are dead, and
others are separated by inevitable circumstances, it will be a kind of
satisfaction to retain in these images of the living the idea of our
former selves, and to contemplate, in the resemblances of the dead,
all t