it is not， my dear arthur， because i“have solittle to say to you” that my letters are short，butbecause bad health and many engagements oblige me to such economy of time.you know， too，that writing is of all occupations，the very worst for mymalady，and as i must do a great deal at any rate iabstain always when i can.bear this in mind， anddon't measure my interest in your pursuits， oraffection for yourself by the number or length of my lettets.
i continue to manage very well.the fatted pig is killed， and was found in good order' not－withstanding your and richard's evil omens fromthe character of our prodigal son here.we banquet on pork rather more constantly than is agreeable to a“true believer” like my self.
my other life continues its usual course.i have been to hear the sonnambula，but with scarce more satisfaction than our fastidious richard derived from his concert，of which，i suppose， he has given you an account.
the news of ellen's illness was sad to me bothon her account and mother's over whose visit acloud is cast at once. mr keats's letter to me waskind and clear.she will have， i am sure， all theattention and wise counsel she needs.the feverwas gone and only a rheumatic affection remainedof which the physician thought she would soon befree. i shall hope very soon to hear again.
about your school i do not think i can giveyou much advice which would be of value unless iknew your position more in detail. the importantrule is， as in all relations with our fellowcreatures， never forget that， if they are imperfectpersons， they are immortal souls， and treat themas you would wish to be treated by the light of thatthough.