and children, of birds and beasts, of hills and streams, and trees and flowers; with the changes of night and day, evening and morning, summer and winter; and all their unwearied actions and energies, as benign in the spirit that animates them as they are beautiful and grand in that form and clothing which is given to them for the delight of our senses!  But I must stop, for you feel these things as deeply as I; more deeply, if it were only for this, that you have lived longer.  What then shall we say of many great mansions with their unqualified expulsion of human creatures from their neighbourhood, happy or not; houses, which do what is fabled of the upas tree, that they breathe out death and desolation!  I know you will feel with me here, both as a man and a lover and professor of the arts.  I was glad to hear from Lady Beaumont that you did not think of removing your village.  Of course much here will depend upon circumstances, above all, with what kind of inhabitants, from the nature of the employments in that district, the village is likely to be stocked.  But, for my part, strip my neighbourhood of human beings, and I should think it one of the greatest privations I could undergo.  You have all the poverty of solitude, nothing of its elevation.  In a word, if I were disposed to write a sermon (and this is something like one) upon the subject of taste in natural beauty, I should take for my text the little pathway in Lowther Woods, and all which I had to say would begin and end in the human heart, as under the direction of the Divine Nature, conferring value on the objects of the senses, and pointing out what is valuable in them.

I began this subject with Coleorton in my thoughts, and a confidence, that whatever difficulties or crosses (as of many good things it is not easy to chuse the best) you might meet with in the practical application of your principles of Taste, yet, being what they are, you will soon be pleased and satisfied.  Only (if I may take the freedom to say so) do not give way too much to others:  considering what your studies and pursuits have been, your own judgment must be the best:  professional men may suggest hints, but I would keep the decision to myself.

Lady Beaumont utters something like an apprehension that the slowness of workmen or other impediments may prevent our families meeting at Coleorton next summer.  We shall be sorry for this, the more so, as the same cause will hinder your coming hither.  At all events, we shall depend upon her frankness, which we take most kindly indeed; I mean, on the promise she has made, to let us know whether you are gotten so far through your work as to make it comfortable for us all to be together.