You say I have many comic ideas rising in my mind; this may be true; but the champagne bottle is no better for holding the champagne. Don’t you remember the old story of Carlin, the French harlequin? It settles these questions. I don’t mean to say I am prone to melancholy; but I acknowledge my weakness enough to confess that I want the aid of society, and dislike a solitary life.
Thomas Brown was an intimate friend of mine, and used to dine with me regularly every Sunday in Edinburgh. He was a Lake poet, a profound metaphysician, and one of the most virtuous men that ever lived. As a metaphysician, Dugald Stewart was a humbug to him. Brown had real talents for the thing. You must recognize, in reading Brown, many of those arguments with which I have so often reduced you to silence in metaphysical discussions. Your discovery of Brown is amusing. Go on! You will detect Dryden if you persevere; bring to light John Milton, and drag William Shakspeare from his ill-deserved obscurity!
The Whigs seem to me stronger than ever; I agree in all their measures. I have no doubt about Irish Municipalities.