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A Memoir of the Reverend Sydney Smith
Letters 1831
Sydney Smith to Lady Grey, [August] 1831
INTRODUCTION & INDEXES
DOCUMENT INFORMATION
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Author's Preface
Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Index
Editor’s Preface
Letters 1801
Letters 1802
Letters 1803
Letters 1804
Letters 1805
Letters 1806
Letters 1807
Letters 1808
Letters 1809
Letters 1810
Letters 1811
Letters 1812
Letters 1813
Letters 1814
Letters 1815
Letters 1816
Letters 1817
Letters 1818
Letters 1819
Letters 1820
Letters 1821
Letters 1822
Letters 1823
Letters 1824
Letters 1825
Letters 1826
Letters 1827
Letters 1828
Letters 1829
Letters 1830
Letters 1831
Letters 1832
Letters 1833
Letters 1834
Letters 1835
Letters 1836
Letters 1837
Letters 1838
Letters 1839
Letters 1840
Letters 1841
Letters 1842
Letters 1843
Letters 1844
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1831.
My dear Lady Grey,

Many thanks for keeping us at peace. Life would not be worth having if there was a war.

MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH. 325

I hope you have all escaped from influenza better than we have, for Mrs. Sydney has been seriously ill, and has escaped upon hard terms.

I am going a tour for a week to Dunster Castle—Lord Fortescue’s,—and to Clovelly, a beautiful tract of country; and then I am going to Sidmouth, where I have taken a large house as close to the sea as your ball-room is to your drawing-room. I invite you and Lord Grey to come and see me; and there is a large Russian Princess who would be glad to make your acquaintance.

The passing the Bill in such weather, and against such opposition, will be honourably remembered, and is all virtue and courage. Lord Grey’s path of honourable distinction is straight and clear, and nothing can now prevent him from getting to the end of it. You may depend upon it, that any attempt of the Lords to throw it out will be the signal for the most energetic resistance from one end of the kingdom to the other.

The harvest here is enormous, such as was never known in the memory of man; the weather celestial, and the sickness universal. The stoutest labourers are soon incapable of the smallest exertion.

Sydney Smith.