I believe the only human being, that ever loved me in truth and
entirely, was of, or belonging to, Cambridge, and, in that, no change
can now take place. There is one consolation in death--where he sets his
seal, the impression can neither be melted nor broken, but endureth for
ever.
Yours always,
B.
P.S.--I almost rejoice when one I love dies young, for I could never
bear to see them old or altered.
[Footnote 1: See Bacon's 'Essays' ("Of Boldness"):
"Mahomet made the people believe that he would call a hill to him, and
from the top of it offer up his prayers for the observers of his law.
The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill to come to him, again
and again; and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit abashed,
but said, 'If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to
the hill.'"]
* * * * *
225.--To Francis Hodgson.
London, February 21, 1812.
My Dear Hodgson,--There is a book entituled _Galt, his Travels in ye
Archipelago_, [1] daintily printed by Cadell and Davies, ye which I
could desiderate might be criticised by you, inasmuch as ye author is a
well-respected esquire of mine acquaintance, but I fear will meet with
little mercy as a writer, unless a friend passeth judgment. Truth to
say, ye boke is ye boke of a cock-brained man, and is full of devises
crude and conceitede, but peradventure for my sake this grace may be
vouchsafed unto him.
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