“We are a set of capricious beings—that dismal melancholy mood in which I wrote to you last has considerably worn off. One of the causes of it was:—A fellow, who for a long time had lived with me upon the most intimate and friendly terms, took it into his dizzy pow that he was advancing rapidly in the high way of fortune; he of course must drop all low company; he had the effrontery even to say it, and used me and others in such a way as led us to see that he considered us as belonging to that order. A kick up, which we had on that account, threw me into a kind of fever for some days."