being, but of great, though uncouth, powers. I think very highly of him, as a poet; but he, and half of these Scotch and Lake troubadours, are spoilt by living in little circles and petty societies. London and the world is the only place to take the conceit out of a man-in the milling phrase. Scott, he says, is gone to the Orkneys in a gale of wind ;during which wind, he affirms, the said Scott, he is sure, is not at his ease, to say the best of it.' Lord, Lord, if these home-keeping minstrels had crossed your Atlantic or my Mediterranean, and tasted a little open boating in a white squall- or a gale in the Gut'. or the Bay of Biscay,' with no gale at all-how it would enliven and introduce them to a few of the sensations! to say nothing of an illicit amour or two upon shore, in the way of essay upon the Passions, beginning with simple adultery, and compounding it as they

went along.

"I have forwarded your letter to Murray, -by the way, you had addressed it to Miller. Pray write to me, and say what art thou doing? 'Not finished!'- Oons! how is this? these flaws and starts' must be authorised by your grandam,' and are unbecoming of any other author. I was sorry to hear of your discrepancy with the **s, or rather your abjuration of agreement. I don't want to be impertinent, or buffoon on a serious subject, and am therefore at a loss what to say.

"I hope nothing will induce you to abate from the proper price of your poem, as long as there is a prospect of getting it. For my own part, I have seriously and not whiningly (for that is not my way- at least, it used not to be) neither hopes, nor prospects, and scarcely even wishes. I am, in some respects, happy, but not in a manner that can or ought to last, -but enough of that. The worst of it is, I feel quite enervated and indifferent. I really do not know, if Jupiter were to offer me my choice of the contents of his benevolent cask, what would pick out of it. If I was born, as the nurses say, with a silver spoon in my mouth,' it has stuck in my throat, and spoiled my palate, so that nothing put into it is swallowed with much relish, unless it be cayenne. However, I have grievances enough to occupy me that way too;-but for fear of adding to yours by this pestilent long diatribe, I postpone the reading of them,

sine die.

“Ever, dear M., yours, &c.

"P. S.-- Don't forget my godson. You could not have fixed on a fitter porter for

"August 5. 1814. "The Edinburgh Review is arrived thanks. I enclose Mr. Hobhouse's letter, from which you will perceive the work you have made. However, I have done : you must send my rhymes to the devil your own way. It seems, also, that the faithful and spirited likeness' is another of your publications. I wish you joy of it; but it is no likeness-that is the point. Seriously, if I have delayed your journey to Scotland, I am sorry that you carried your complaisance so far; particularly as upon trifles you have a more summary method;-witness the grammar of Hobhouse's 'bit of prose,' which has put him and me into a fever.

66

"B."

"I was not alone, nor will be while I can help it. Newstead is not yet decided. Claughton is to make a grand effort by Saturday week to complete, if not, he must give up twenty-five thousand pounds and the estate, with expenses, &c. &c. If I resume the Abbacy, you shall have due notice, and a cell set apart for your reception, with a pious welcome. Rogers I have not seen, but Larry and Jacky came out a few days ago. Of their effect I know nothing.

"There is something very amusing in your being an Edinburgh Reviewer. You know, I suppose, that Thurlow is none of the placidest, and may possibly enact some tragedy on being told that he is only a fool. If, now, Jeffrey were to be slain on account of an article of yours, there would be a fine conclusion. For my part, as Mrs. Winifred Jenkins says, 'he has done the handsome thing by me, particularly in his last number; so, he is the best of men and the ablest of critics, and I won't have him killed-though I dare say many wish he were, for being so good-humoured.

"Before I left Hastings I got in a passion with an ink-bottle, which I flung out of the window one night with a vengeance; and what then? Why, next morning I was horrified by seeing that it had struck, and split upon, the petticoat of Euterpe's graven image in the garden, and grimed her as if it were on purpose. Only think of my distress, and the epigrams that might be engendered on the Muse and her misadventure.

"I had an adventure almost as ridiculous, at some private theatricals near Cambridge — though of a different description - since I saw you last. I quarrelled with a man in the dark for asking me who I was (insolently enough to be sure), and followed him into the green-room (a stable) in a rage, amongst a set of people I never saw before. He turned out to be a low comedian, engaged to act with the amateurs, and to be a civil-spoken man enough, when he found out that nothing very pleasant was to be got by rudeness. But you would have been amused with the row, and the dialogue, and the dress — or rather the undress of the party, where I had introduced myself in a devil of a hurry, and

1 [A critique on Lord Thurlow's poems had recently appeared in the Edinburgh Review.]

His servant had brought him up a large jar of ink, into which, not supposing it to be full, he had thrust his pen down to the very bottom. Enraged, on finding it come out all smeared with ink, he flung the bottle out of

the astonishment that ensued. I had gone out of the theatre, for coolness, into the garden; there I had tumbled over some dogs, and, coming away from them in very ill humour, encountered the man in a worse, which produced all this confusion.

"Well — and why don't you 'launch? '— Now is your time. The people are tolerably tired with me, and not very much enamoured of Wordsworth 3, who has just spawned a quarto of metaphysical blank verse, which is nevertheless only a part of a poem. Murray talks of divorcing Larry and Jacky- a bad sign for the authors, who, I suppose, will be divorced too, and throw the blame upon one another. Seriously, I don't care a cigar about it, and I don't see why Sam should.

66

"Lord Kinnaird has been exiled from Paris, on dit, for saying the Bourbons were old women. The Bourbons might have been content, I think, with returning the compliment. "I told you all about Jacky and Larry yesterday; they are to be separated, at least, so says the grand M., and I know no more of the matter. Jeffrey has done me more than 'justice;' but as to tragedy – um! - I have no time for fiction at present. A man cannot paint a storm with the vessel under bare poles on a lee-shore. When I get to land, I will try what is to be done, and, if I founder, there be plenty of mine elders and betters to console Melpomene.

"When at Newstead, you must come over, if only for a day — should Mrs. M. be exigeante of your presence. The place is worth seeing,

the window into the garden, where it lighted, as here described, upon one of eight leaden Muses, that had been imported, some time before, from Holland, the ninth having been, by some accident, left behind.

3 [Mr. Wordsworth published, in 1814, his “Excursion; being part of the Recluse, a Poem."]

as a ruin, and I can assure you there was some fun there, even in my time; but that is past. The ghosts, however, and the gothics, and the waters, and the desolation, make it very lively still.

LETTER 197.

"Newstead Abbey, September 2. 1814.

I am obliged by what you have sent, but would rather not see any thing of the kind 2; we have had enough already of these things, good and bad, and next month you need not trouble yourself to collect even the higher generation -on my account. It gives me much pleasure to hear of Mr. Hobhouse's and Mr. Merivale's good entreatment by the journals you mention.

"I still think Mr. Hogg and yourself might make out an alliance. Dodsley's was, I believe, the last decent thing of the kind, and his had great success in its day, and lasted several years; but then he had the double advantage of editing and publishing. The Spleen, and several of Gray's odes, much of Shenstone, and many others of good repute, made their first appearance in his collection. Now, with the support of Scott, Wordsworth, Southey, &c., I see little reason why you should not do as well; and, if once fairly established, you would have assistance from the youngsters, I dare say. Stratford Canning (whose Buonaparte' is excellent), and many others, and Moore, and Hobhouse, and I, would try a fall now and then (if per

It was, if I mistake not, during his recent visit to Newstead, that he himself actually fancied he saw the ghost of the Black Friar, which was supposed to have haunted the Abbey from the time of the dissolution of the monasteries, and which he thus describes, from the recollection perhaps of his own fantasy, in Don Juan :"It was no mouse, but, lo! a monk, array'd

In cowl and beads and dusky garb, appear'd,
Now in the moonlight, and now lapsed in shade,
With steps that trod as heavy, yet unheard:
His garments only a slight murmur made :
He moved as shadowy as the sisters weird,
But slowly; and as he pass'd Juan by,

Glanced, without pausing, on him a bright eye."

It is said, that the Newstead ghost appeared, also, to Lord Byron's cousin, Miss Fanny Parkins, and that she made a sketch of him from memory.

2 The reviews and magazines of the month.

3 [William Sharp was an engraver of great eminence. He was a strenuous disciple of the notorious Richard Brothers, and actually engraved two plates of the soidisant prophet, lest one should be insufficient to produce the requisite number of impressions which would be called for on the arrival of the predicted Milennium. He afterwards attached himself to the school of Johanna Southcote, of whose pretensions he was a stanch sup

a greater.

land, I could send you some game: if you If you were not going to Paris or Scotremain, let me know.

"P. S.- A word or two of Lara,' which your enclosure brings before me. It is of no great promise separately; but, as connected with the other tales, it will do very well for the volumes you mean to publish. I would recommend this arrangement Childe Harold, the smaller Poems, Giaour, Bride, Corsair, Lara; the last completes the series, and its very likeness renders it necessary to the others. Cawthorne writes

porter to the last. On the death of the lunatic in 1814, Mr. Sharp publicly asserted his conviction, that "she was only gone to heaven for a season, to legitimate the embryo child." He died in 1825.]

The following characteristic note, in reference to this passage, appears, in Mr. Gifford's hand-writing, on the copy of the above letter:-" It is a pity that Lord B. was ignorant of Jonson. The old poet has a Satire on the Court Pucelle that would have supplied him with some pleasantry on Johanna's pregnancy."

["Shall I advise thee, Pucelle ? steal away

From court, while yet thy fame hath some small day;
The wits will leave you if they once perceive
You cling to lords; and lords, if them you leave
For sermoneers: of which now one, now other,
They say you weekly invite with fits o' the mother,
And practise for a miracle : take heed,
This age will lend no faith to Darrel's deed;
Or if it would, the court is the worst place,
Both for the mothers, and the babes of grace,
For there the wicked in the chair of scorn
Will call't a bastard, when a prophet's born..

"Newstead Abbey, September 7. 1814. "I should think Mr. Hogg, for his own sake as well as yours, would be 'critical' as Jago himself, in his editorial capacity; and that such a publication would answer his purpose and yours too, with tolerable management. You should, however, have a good number to start with- I mean good in quality; in these days, there can be little fear of not coming up to the mark in quantity. There must be many fine things' in Wordsworth; but I should think it difficult to make six quartos (the amount of the whole) all fine, particularly the pedler's portion of the poem; but there can be no doubt of his powers to do almost any thing.

66

I am very idle.' I have read the few books I had with me, and been forced to fish, for lack of other argument. I have caught a great many perch and some carp, which is a comfort, as one would not lose one's labour willingly.

"Pray, who corrects the press of your volumes? I hope The Corsair' is printed from the copy I corrected, with the additional lines in the first canto, and some notes from Sismondi and Lavater, which I gave you to add thereto. The arrangement is very well.

66

My cursed people have not sent my papers since Sunday, and I have lost Johanna's divorce from Jupiter. Who hath gotten her with prophet? Is it Sharp, and how? *** I should like to buy one of her seals: if salvation can be had at halfa-guinea a head, the landlord of the Crown and Anchor should be ashamed of himself for charging double for tickets to a mere terrestrial banquet. I am afraid, seriously,

that these matters will lend a sad handle to your profane scoffers, and give a loose to much damnable laughter.

66

I have not seen Hunt's Sonnets nor Descent of Liberty: he has chosen a pretty place wherein to compose the last. Let me hear from you before you embark.

66

Ever, &c."

[ " P. S. Mrs. Leigh and the children are very well. I have just read to her a sentence from your epistle, and the remark was, 'How well he writes!' So you see you may set up as author in person, whenever you please."]

"Newstead Abbey, September 15. 1814. "This is the fourth letter I have begun to you within the month. Whether I shall finish or not, or burn it like the rest, I know not. When we meet, I will explain why I have not written why I have not asked you here, as I wished with a great many other whys and wherefores, which will keep cold. In short, you must excuse all my seeming omissions and commissions, and grant me more remission than St. Athanasius will to

yourself, if you lop off a single shred of mystery from his pious puzzle. It is my creed (and it may be St. Athanasius's too) that your article on Thurlow will get somebody killed, and that, on the Saints, get him d-d afterwards, which will be quite enow for one number. Oons, Tom! you must not meddle just now with the incomprehensible; for if Johanna Southcote turns out to be * *

*

"Now for a little egotism. My affairs stand thus. To-morrow I shall know whether a circumstance of importance enough to change many of my plans will occur or not. If it does not, I am off for Italy next month, and London, in the mean time, next week. I have got back Newstead and twenty-five thousand pounds (out of twentyeight paid already), - as a 'sacrifice,' the late purchaser calls it, and he may choose his own name. I have paid some of my debts, and contracted others; but I have a few thousand pounds, which I can't spend after my own heart in this climate, and so, I shall go back to the south. Hobhouse, I think and hope, will go with me; but, whether he will or not, I shall. I want to see Venice, and the Alps, and Parmesan cheeses, and look at the coast of Greece, or rather Epirus, from Italy, as I once did - or fancied' did

stood high in his affection and confidence, observing how cheerless and unsettled was the state both of his mind and prospects, advised him strenuously to marry; and, after much discussion, he consented. The next point for consideration was - who was to be the object of his choice; and while his friend mentioned one lady, he himself named Miss Milbanke. To this, however, his adviser strongly objected, — remarking to him, that Miss Milbanke had at present no fortune, and that his embarrassed affairs would not allow him to marry without one; that she was, moreover, a learned lady, which would not at all suit him. In consequence of these representations, he agreed that his friend should write a proposal for him to the other lady named, which was accordingly done; - and an answer, containing a refusal, arrived as they were, one morning, sitting together. "You see," said Lord Byron," that, after all, Miss Milbanke is to be the person; - I will write to her." He accordingly wrote on the moment, and, as soon as he had finished, his friend, remonstrating still strongly against his choice, took up the letter, but, on reading it over, observed, Well, really, this is a very pretty letter ;- - it is a pity it should not go. I never read a prettier one. "Then it shall go," said Lord Byron ; and in so saying, sealed and sent off, on the instant, this fiat of his fate.

LETTER 200.

TO MR. MOORE.

["This recital will amuse some and shock others: us it both amuses and shocks; and we presume that it presents a fair specimen of the thoughts and feelings of that high life into which all men must be admitted, as Byron was by birth and Moore by genius (so said his lordship), ere they can hope to become poets! Nothing in the lowest farce was ever lower; yet it may be said to have been the prologue to a tragedy which had a grievous catastrophe. It may not be always much amiss to employ a friend to buy one a shandrydan or a trotting pony;

water, and rowing over it, and firing at the fowls of the air. But why should I ‘monster my nothings' to you, who are well employed, and happily too, I should hope? For my part, I am happy, too, in my way—but, as usual, have contrived to get into three or four perplexities, which I do not see my way through. But a few days, perhaps a day, will determine one of them.

"You do not say a word to me of your poem. I wish I could see or hear it. I neither could, nor would, do it or its author any harm. I believe I told you of Larry and Jacquy. A friend of mine was reading at least a friend of his was reading said Larry and Jacquy in a Brighton coach. Α passenger took up the book and queried as to the author. The proprietor said there were two' to which the answer of the unknown was, 'Ay, ay,' a joint concern, I suppose, summot like Sternhold and Hopkins.'

MISS MILBANKE-ACCEPTATION.-LETTERS TO MOORE AND DRURY. WEDDING PREPARATIONS. VISIT TO CAMBRIDGE. STATE OF LORD BYRON'S MIND AND FEELINGS. -EVENINGS AT DOUGLAS KIN

-

"Here's to her who long Hath waked the poet's sigh! The girl who gave to song

I

My dear Moore,

What gold could never buy.am going to be married that is, I am accepted, and one usually hopes the