I send you _all_ the books I had to review except Dr. J——’s Sermons,
which I have begun. If you wish me to look over any more trash this
month, you must send it directly. I have been so low-spirited since I
saw you—I was quite glad, last night, to feel myself affected by some
passages in Dr. J——’s sermon on the death of his wife—I seemed
(suddenly) to _find_ my _soul_ again. It has been for some time I cannot
tell where. Send me the Speaker, and _Mary_, I want one, and I shall
soon want for some paper—you may as well send it at the same time, for I
am trying to brace my nerves that I may be industrious. I am afraid
reason is not a good bracer—for I have been reasoning a long time with
my untoward spirits, and yet my hand trembles. I could finish a period
very _prettily_ now, by saying that it ought to be steady when I add
that I am yours sincerely,