Ær. 25.

"What say you to Buonaparte? Remember, I back him against the field, barring catalepsy and the Elements. Nay, I almost wish him success against all countries but this,- were it only to choke the Morning Post, and his undutiful father-in-law, with that rebellious bastard of Scandinavian adoption, Bernadotte. Rogers wants me to go with him on a crusade to the Lakes, and to besiege you on our way. This last is a great temptation, but I fear it will not be in my power, unless you would go on with one of us somewhere -no matter where. It is too late for Matlock, but we might hit upon some scheme, high life or low, the last would be much the best for amusement. I am so sick of the other, that I quite sigh for a cider-cellar, or a cruise in a smuggler's sloop.

"You cannot wish more than I do that the Fates were a little more accommodating to our parallel lines, which prolong_ad infinitum without coming a jot nearer. I almost wish I were married, too— which is saying much. All my friends, seniors and juniors, are in for it, and ask.me to be godfather, the only species of parentage which, I believe, will ever come to my share in a lawful way; and, in an unlawful one, by the blessing of Lucina, we can never be certain,— though the parish may. I suppose I shall hear from you to-morrow. If not, this goes as it is; but I leave room for a P. S., in case any thing requires an answer.

you strangely under-rate yourself. I should conceive it an affectation in any other; but I think I know you well enough to believe that you don't know your own value. However, 'tis a fault that generally mends; and, in your case, it really ought. I have heard him speak of you as highly as your wife could wish; and enough to give all your friends the jaundice.

66

Yesterday I had a letter from Ali Pacha! brought by Dr. Holland, who is just returned from Albania. It is in Latin, and begins Excellentissime nec non Carissime,' and ends about a gun he wants made for him ; it is signed Ali Vizir.' What do you think he has been about? H. tells me that, last spring, he took a hostile town, where, fortytwo years ago, his mother and sisters were treated as Miss Cunigunde was by the Bulgarian cavalry. He takes the town, selects all the survivors of this exploit children, grandchildren, &c. to the tune of six hundred, and has them shot before his face. Recollect, he spared the rest of the city, and confined himself to the Tarquin pedigree, — which is more than I would. So much for dearest friend.'”

LETTER 138. TO MR. MOORE.

66

"Sept. 9. 1813.

I write to you from Mr. Murray's, and I may say, from Murray, who, if you are not predisposed in favour of any other publisher, would be happy to treat with you, at a fitting time, for your work. I can safely recommend him as fair, liberal, and attentive, and certainly, in point of reputation, he stands among the first of the trade.' I am sure he would do you justice. I have written to you so much lately, that you will be glad to

see so little now.

I

"(Thou wilt never be called 'true Thomas,' like he of Ercildoune,) why don't you write to me? as you won't, I must. was near you at Aston the other day, and hope I soon shall be again. If so, you must and shall meet me, and go to Matlock and elsewhere, and take what, in flash dialect, is poetically termed 'a lark,' with Rogers and me for accomplices. Yesterday, at Holland House, I was introduced to Southey — the best-looking bard I have seen for some time. To have that poet's head and shoulders, I would almost have written his Sapphics. He is certainly a prepossessing person to

“** read me part of a letter from you. By the foot of Pharaoh, I believe there was abuse, for he stopped short, so he did, after a fine saying about our correspondence, and looked-I wish I could revenge myself by attacking you, or by telling you that I have had to defend you an agreeable way which one's friends have of recommending themselves by saying - Ay, ay, I gave it Mr. Such-a-one for what he said about your being a plagiary, and a rake, and so on.' But do you know that you are one of the very few whom I never have the satisfaction of hearing abused, but the reverse ; — and do you suppose I will forgive that?

"I have been in the country, and ran away from the Doncaster races. It is odd, I was a visitor in the same house which came to my sire as a residence with Lady Carmarthen, (with whom he adulterated before his majority by the by, remember she was not my mamma,) and they thrust me into an old room, with a nauseous picture over the chimney, which I should suppose my papa regarded with due respect, and which, inheriting the family taste, I looked upon with great satisfaction. I stayed a week with the family, and behaved very well-though the lady of the house is young, and religious, and pretty, and the master is my particular friend. I felt no wish for any thing but a poodle dog, which they kindly gave me. Now, for a man of my courses not even to have coveted, is a sign of great amendment. Pray pardon all this nonsense, and don't 'snub me when I'm in spirits.'

"Ever yours,

"BN.

"Here's an impromptu for you by a 'person of quality,' written last week, on being reproached for low spirits:

"When from the heart where Sorrow sits,
Her dusky shadow mounts too high,

And o'er the changing aspect flits,

And clouds the brow, or fills the eye:
Heed not that gloom, which soon shall sink;
My Thoughts their dungeon know too well-
Back to my breast the wanderers shrink,
And bleed within their silent cell."

LETTER 140. TO MR. MOOre.

"October 2. 1813. "You have not answered some six letters of mine. This, therefore, is my penultimate. I will write to you once more, but, after that -I swear by all the saints - I am silent

1 Now printed in his Works. [See p. 557.]

2 The motto to The Giaour, which is taken from one of the Irish Melodies, had been quoted by him incorrectly

and supercilious. I have met Curran at Holland House-he beats every body; his imagination is beyond human, and his humour (it is difficult to define what is wit) perfect. Then he has fifty faces, and twice as many voices, when he mimics - I never met his equal. Now, were I a woman, and eke a virgin, that is the man I should make my Scamander. He is quite fascinating. Remember, I have met him but once; and you, who have known him long, may probably deduct from my panegyric. I almost fear to meet him again, lest the impression should be lowered. He talked a great deal about you - - a theme never tiresome to me, nor any body else that I know. What a variety of expression he conjures into that naturally not very fine countenance of his ! He absolutely changes it entirely. I have done for I can't describe him, and you know him. On Sunday I return to **, where I shall not be far from you. Perhaps I shall hear from you in the mean time. Good night.

66

Saturday morn. Your letter has cancelled all my anxieties. I did not suspect you in earnest. Modest again! Because I don't do a very shabby thing, it seems, I 'don't fear your competition. If it were reduced to an alternative of preference, I should dread you, as much as Satan does Michael. But is there not room enough in our respective regions? Go on—it will soon be my turn to forgive. To-day I dine with Mackintosh and Mrs. Stale-as John Bull may be pleased to denominate Corinne

whom I saw last night, at Covent Garden, yawning over the humour of Falstaff.

66

The reputation of gloom,' if one's friends are not included in the reputants, is of great service; as it saves one from a legion of impertinents, in the shape of common-place acquaintance. But thou know'st I can be a right merry and conceited fellow, and rarely 'larmoyant.' Murray shall reinstate your line forthwith. 2 I believe the blunder in the motto was mine; - and yet I have, in general, a memory for you, and am sure it was rightly printed at first.

"I do blush' very often, if I may believe Ladies H. and M. ; but luckily, at present, Adieu."

no one sees me.

LETTER 141. TO MR. MOORE.

"November 30. 1813.

"Since I last wrote to you, much has occurred, good, bad, and indifferent, not to

in the first editions of the poem. He made afterwards a similar mistake in the lines from Burns prefixed to the Bride of Abydos.

I shall really be very unhappy if I at all interfere with you. The success of mine is yet problematical; though the public will probably purchase a certain quantity, on the presumption of their own propensity for The Giaour' and such horrid

CHAP XVIII.

1813.

LEWIS.-HODGSON.-MATRIMONY.-READING ONE'S OWN COMPOSITIONS. EXETER 'CHANGE. -ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.

it from recollection.

This last thing of mine may have the same fate, and I assure you I have great doubts about it. But, even if not, its little day will be over before you are ready and willing. Come out-screw your courage to the sticking-place.' Except the Post Bag (and surely you cannot complain of a want of success there), you have not been regularly out for some years. No man stands higher, whatever you may think on a rainy day, in your provincial retreat. Aucun homme, dans aucune langue, n'a été, peutêtre, plus complètement le poëte du cœur et le poëte des femmes. Les critiques lui reprochent de n'avoir représenté le monde ni tel qu'il est, ni tel qu'il doit être; mais les femmes répondent qu'il l'a représenté tel qu'elles le désirent.' I should have thought Sismondi had written this for you instead of Metastasio.

"Write to me, and tell me of yourself. Do you remember what Rousseau said to some one-Have we quarrelled? you have talked to me often, and never once mentioned yourself."'

“P. S. — The last sentence is an indirect apology for my egotism, but I believe in letters it is allowed. I wish it was mutual. I have met with an odd reflection in Grimm; it shall not at least the bad part-be applied to you or me, though one of us has certainly an indifferent name - but this it is : Many people have the reputation of being wicked, with whom we should be too happy to pass our lives.' I need not add it is a woman's saying-a Mademoiselle de Sommery's."

:

followers, by the reigning Caliph) it was my intention to shadow out, as I did afterwards in another form, the national cause of Ireland. To quote the words of my letter to Lord Byron on the subject:—“I chose this story because one writes best about what one feels most, and I thought the parallel with Ireland would enable me to infuse some vigour into my hero's character. But to

BURNS.

-LIKE

POOR DEAR SHERRY! NESSES. JOB. — SCOTT'S WRITINGS. SALE OF NEWSTEAD.- BUONAPARTE'S REVERSES. MARY DUFF. LUCRETIUS. ARCHITECTURE, -DE L'ALLEMAGNE. ORANGE BOVEN.-EDINBURGH REVIEW.— LORD CARLISLE. - PORTRAITS OF ROGERS, SOUTHEY, SOTHEBY, MOORE, AND WARD. WHO IS JUNIUS? -A DREAM. THE RUMINATOR.-CHILDE ALARIQUE. REPUBLICS.WINDHAM.-LADY MELBOURNE.TRIANGULAR GRADUS AD PARNASSUM. DINNER AT TOM CRIB'S. MISERIES OF SEPARATION.-NOURJAHAD.—MACKINTOSH'S

REVIEW OF ROGERS.

AT this time Lord Byron commenced a Journal, or Diary, from the pages of which I have already selected a few extracts, and of which I shall now lay as much more as is producible before the reader. Employed chiefly,-as such a record, from its nature, must be,-about persons still living, and occurrences still recent, it would be impossible, of course, to submit it to the public eye, without the omission of some portion of its contents, and unluckily, too, of that very portion which, from its reference to the secret pursuits and feelings of the writer, would the most livelily pique and gratify the curiosity of the reader. Enough, all this necessary winnowing, to enlarge still however, will, I trust, still remain, even after further the view we have here opened into the interior of the poet's life and habits, and to indulge harmlessly that taste, as general as it is natural, which leads us to contemplate with pleasure a great mind in its undress, and to rejoice in the discovery, so consoling to human pride, that even the mightiest, in their moments of ease and weakness, resemble ourselves.?

"JOURNAL, BEGUN NOVEMBER 14. 1813. "If this had been begun ten years ago, and faithfully kept!!!-heigho! there are too many things I wish never to have reWell, membered, as it is. I have had my share of what are called the pleasures of this life, and have seen more of the European and Asiatic world than I have made a good use of. They say Virtue is its own reward,'-it certainly should be paid well for its trouble. At five-and-twenty, when the better part of life is over, one should be something; and what am I? nothing but five-and-twenty and the odd months.

What have I seen? the same man all over the world,―ay, and woman too. Give me a Mussulman who never asks questions, and a she of the same race who saves one the trouble of putting them. But for this same plague-yellow fever-and Newstead delay, I should have been by this time a second time close to the Euxine. If I can overcome the last, I don't so much mind your pestilence; and, at any rate, the spring shall see me there, provided I neither marry myself, nor unmarry any one else in the interval. I wish one was- I don't know what I wish. It is odd I never set myself seriously to wishing without attaining it-and repenting. I begin to believe with the good old Magi, that one should only pray for the nation, and not for the individual; — but, on my principle, this would not be very patriotic.

think so neither; and though older, she is not so clever.

"Dallas called before I was up, so we did not meet. Lewis, too, who seems out of humour with every thing. What can be the matter? he is not married - has he lost his own mistress, or any other person's wife? Hodgson, too, came. He is going to be married, and he is the kind of man who will be the happier. He has talent, cheerfulness, every thing that can make him a pleasing companion; and his intended is handsome and young, and all that. But I never see any one much improved by matrimony. All my coupled contemporaries are bald and discontented. W. and S. have both lost their hair and good humour; and the last of the two had a good deal to lose. But it don't much signify what falls off a man's temples in that state.

"Mem. I must get a toy to-morrow, for Eliza, and send the device for the seals of myself and *****

Mem. too, to call on the Stael and Lady Holland to-morrow, and on **, who has advised me (without seeing it, by the by) not to publish Zuleika ;' I believe he is right, but experience might have taught him that not to print is physi cally impossible. No one has seen it but Hodgson and Mr. Gifford. I never in my life read a composition, save to Hodgson, as he pays me in kind. It is a horrible thing to do too frequently ;- better print, and they who like may read, and if they don't like, you have the satisfaction of knowing that they have, at least, purchased the right of saying so.

I have declined presenting the Debtors' Petition, being sick of parliamentary mummeries. I have spoken thrice; but I doubt my ever becoming an orator. My first was liked; the second and third- I don't know whether they succeeded or not. I have never yet set to it con amore; — have some excuse to one's self for laziness, or inability, or both, and this is mine. 'Company, villanous company, hath been the spoil of me ;'-and then, I have 'drunk medicines,' not to make me love others, but certainly enough to hate myself.

- one must

"Two nights ago I saw the tigers sup at Exeter 'Change. Except Veli Pacha's lion in the Morea, who followed the Arab keeper like a dog, the fondness of the hyæna for her keeper amused me most. Such a conversazione!-There was a hippopotamus,' like Lord Liverpool in the face;

2 [Daughter of the gentleman referred to in the preceding note: she was married, in 1830, to George Rochford Clarke, Esq.]