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from Briggs, who tapped me on the shoul-
der one morning and complimented me on my (!)
article in the Constellation.    I believe he was try-
ing the dodge in order to get confirmation, or infor-
mation, as to the real writer, though he stuck to
it that he supposed me the author.   Shrewd man
is Briggs, and an ugly.        I wish O�Brien had
got a baronetry. It would be delightfully funny to
see him under the influence of it.      He would give
dinners to his acquaintances, pay his debts (or a
tithe of them) with the most magnificent flourish 
contract the times as many and in a word, be, if
possible a still more insufferable puppy and snob
than now.     Marry his coronet would be spouted
in a week or two.            Old Park Benjamin is out
at the Constellation, as everybody predicted.   Has
commenced a law-suit against Roberts, written
letters abusing him and everybody connected with
the paper, and now is vilifying it in correspondence
to a Southern journal!      An old �blower!�    Dishonest
withal, too, as it seems.  Arnold knows a young
fellow who, being green enough to send a M. S. to
Benjamin (he advertises himself as a �literary
agent) was both swindled out of a fee for exami-
nation and the article, which Benjamin subse-
quently sold as his own, I believe, to the Harpers.
This is certain.  P.B condemned it � candidly said
it wouldn�t do.     He�s a shocking old �dead-head� on