Thank you, and pray do you thank for me all the dear kind brothers,
sisters, nephews, and nieces, all round you, their centre and spring of
good, for all the pleasure they, on my seventy-seventh birthday, from
Barry's to dear little Mary's, all gave me--pleasure such as cannot be
bought for money. Who would not like to live to be old if they could be
so happy in friends as I am? I cannot help enclosing to you Lucy's and
Dr. Robinson's greeting, as you will feel with me the pleasure both gave
me.
Dumb Francis was here on that happy first of January and assured me on
his slate that he was very happy and grateful. I never see him without
my Francis's sonnet repeating itself, "The soul of honour," etc.
_To_ MRS. R. BUTLER.