I do not know how one would bear any misfortune here. One of the things I watch myself about particularly is any leaning to shape out some particular calamity that may have happened at home, because, though I am never half an hour without a vague fancy or dream of some kind, yet if it take any decided form, however unlikely or absurd, I find it haunts me afterwards, and I think it will bring itself to pass. I see I cannot express what I mean, but in this dreamy, idle climate, with all one’s affections 15,000 miles off; one becomes superstitious and timid.
We have been so lucky about letters this last month—constant small supplies of them—and this morning I was woke by yours and ’s before seven. I like them to come at that hour, I can study them, and it makes it no trouble to get up and dress. Letters agree with me, and invigorate my constitution wonderfully.
You will have heard from us about our books long before this, and will have seen that we have no chance of any but what you send us, and our appetite for trash becomes daily more diseased and insatiable; so you are
o 2
