There is another acquaintance of mine also recently gone--a person for whom I never had any love, but with whom I had for a short time a good deal of intimacy.

I mean Hazlitt, whose death you may have seen announced in the papers.

He was a man of extraordinary acuteness, but perverse as Lord Byron himself; whose life by Galt I have been skimming since I came here.

Galt affects to be very profound, though [he] is in fact a very shallow fellow,--and perhaps the most illogical writer that these illogical days have produced.

His 'buts' and his 'therefores' are singularly misapplied, singularly even for this unthinking age.