July 2nd, 1812.
I owe you best thanks for the "Calamities of Authors," which has all the entertaining and lively features of the "Amenities of Literature." I am just packing them up with a few other books for my hermitage at Abbotsford, where my present parlour is only 12 feet square, and my book-press in Liliputian proportion. Poor Andrew Macdonald I knew in days of yore, and could have supplied some curious anecdotes respecting him. He died of a poet's consumption, viz. want of food.