al
expense by printing with you, I have no thought of the kind, and in that
case must reimburse you.

Priestley, whom I sin in almost adoring, speaks of "such a choice of
company as tends to keep up that, right bent and firmness of mind which
a necessary intercourse with the world would otherwise warp and
relax.... Such fellowship is the true balsam of life; its cement is
infinitely more durable than that of the friendships of the world, and
it looks for its proper fruit and complete gratification to the life
beyond the grave." Is there a possible chance for such an one as I to
realize in this world such friendships? Where am I to look for 'em? What
testimonials shall I bring of my being worthy of such friendship? Alas!
the great and good go together in separate herds, and leave such as I to
lag far, far behind in all intellectual and, far more grievous to say,
in all moral accomplishments. Coleridge, I have not one truly elevated
character among my acquaintance,--not one Christian; not one but
undervalues Christianity. Singly what am I to do? Wesley (have you read
his life?), was _he_ not an elevated character? Wesley has said,
"Religion is not a solitary thing." Alas! it necessarily is so with me,
or next to solitary. 'T is true you write to me. But correspondence by
letter and personal intimacy are very widely different. Do, do write to
me, and do some good to my mind, already how much "warped and relaxed"
by the world! 'T is the conclusion of another evening. Good night; God
have us all in His keeping!

If you are sufficiently at leisure, oblige me with an account of your
plan of life at Stowey; your literary occupations and prospects,--in
short, make me acquainted with every circumstance which, as relating to
you, can be interesting to me. Are you yet a Berkleyan? Make me one. I
rejoice in being, speculatively, a necessarian. Would to God I were
habitually a practical one! Confirm me in the faith of that great and
glorious doctrine, and keep me steady in the contemplation of it. You
some time since expressed an intention you had of finishing some
extensive work on the Evidences of Natural and Revealed Religion. Have
you let that intention go? Or are you doing anything towards it? Make to
yourself other ten talents. My letter is full of nothingness. I talk of
nothing. But I must talk. I love to write to you. I take a pride in it.
It makes me think less meanly of myself. It makes me think myself not
totally disconn