Good land, have you seen the “poems” of that South Carolinian idiot, “Belton O’Neall Townsend, A B. & Attorney at Law?”—& above all, the dedication of them to you?

If you did write him what he says you did, you richly deserve hanging; & if you didn’t, he deserves hanging. ButⒶemendation he deserves hanging anywayⒶemendation & in any & all cases—no, boiling, gutting, brazing in a mortar—no, no, there is no death that can meet his case. Now think of this literary louse dedicating his garbage to you, & quoting encouragingⒶemendation compliments from you & poor dead Longfellow. Let us hope there is a hell, for this poet’sⒶemendation sake, who carries his bowels in his skull, & when they operate works the discharge into rhyme & prints it.

Ah, if he had only dedicated this diarrhea to Aldrich, I could just howl with delight; but the joke is lost on you—just about wasted.