ABSTRACT
I caught a franker flying this morning, and you have told me you ‘loved my letters,’ besides giving me your address at Bristol till Saturday. Three indifferent reasons thus put together must make one good one why I should waylay you once more before you reach the end of your pilgrimage. [Dowden’s note: Southey was on his way back to Keswick, after a visit to Buckland.] Then I shall fall again into more discreet habits; but as yet, so easily do we accustom ourselves to what we like, I am not reconciled to see the place opposite to me vacant, and to feel only that you have been here. Writing to you steals me from myself a little while, and so makes you the means of keeping me out of ill company, which you ought to rejoice at out of pure philanthropy.
