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Joseph Bringhurst ~

C. B. Brown
No date. of la mode
de Brown

Thou recievest this because it is intended for thy own
inspection. I must confess I am not highly pleased
that W.W.W. Saw my last letter. He is indeed my friend.
I admire him beyond expression, and love him most
affectionately. No one can take greater converse delight in
his converse; no one can be more warmly interested in
his welfare. But I have a weakness which I very much
regret. I acknowledge it, because I know it, to be, an
infirmity. A weakness which makes mirth and ridicule
not equally acceptable on every subject. The Anguish
which certain reflexions produce to me, is only embittered
and exasperated by a Jest. What is sport to him is
death ^{‸ to me}. His refuge from sadness is gayety and wit. He
is never more merry than over his own misfortunes and
disappointments: happy, thrice happy disposition!
If a wish could bestow ^{‸ it} on me, I should soon obtain
it. But my disposition is in this respect invincible
and that which saddens and torments me, is only rendered
less supportable by being made the subject of
Ridicule and Raillery by my friend. Such is my weekness.
I ^{‸ do} not demand from my friends, any sacrifices to it. I do not
wish them to be serious when they are only disposed to be
merry. Heaven forbid. I only wish to keep the subject
out of the way or to perswade them to descant upon some


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other, to which I have not a similar objection.~