The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals, Volume 2., by Lord Byron Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the header without written permission. Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** **eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** *****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** Title: The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals, Volume 2. Author: Lord Byron Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9921] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on November 6, 2003] Edition: 10 Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BYRON: LETTERS AND JOURNALS, VOLUME 2 *** Produced by Clytie Siddall, Keren Vergon, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team!
"He told me," writes Moore, "that, one day, travelling from Newstead to town with Lord Byron in his vis-a-vis, the latter kept his pistols beside him, and continued silent for hours, with the most ferocious expression possible on his countenance.Moore also adds (ibid., p. 292),
'For God's sake, my dear B.,' said W—— at last, 'what are you thinking of? Are you about to commit murder? or what other dreadful thing are you meditating?'
To which Byron answered that he always had a sort of presentiment that his own life would be attacked some time or other; and that this was the reason of his always going armed, as it was also the subject of his thoughts at that moment."
"W. W. owes Lord Byron, he says, £1000, and does not seem to have the slightest intention of paying him."Lady Frances was the lady to whom Byron seriously devoted himself in 1813-4. Subsequently she was practically separated from her husband, and Byron, in 1823, endeavoured to reconcile them. Moore (Memoirs, Journals, etc., vol. ii. p. 249) writes,
"To the Devizes ball in the evening; Lady Frances W. there; introduced to her, and had much conversation, chiefly about our friend Lord B. Several of those beautiful things, published (if I remember right) with the Bride, were addressed to her. She must have been very pretty when she had more of the freshness of youth, though she is still but five or six and twenty; but she looks faded already" (1819).In the Court of Common Pleas, February 16, 1816, the libel action of Webster v. Baldwin was heard. The plaintiff obtained £2000 in damages for a libel charging Lady Frances and the Duke of Wellington with adultery.
"Reddish's Hotel, 29th July, 1811."Byron," says Webster, in a note, "was more than strict about "trifles."
"My Dear Webster,—As this eternal vis-a-vis seems to sit heavy on your soul, I beg leave to apprize you that I have arranged with Goodall: you are to give me the promised Wheels, and the lining, with 'the Box at Brighton,' and I am to pay the stipulated sum.
"I am obliged to you for your favourable opinion, and trust that the happiness you talk so much of will be stationary, and not take those freaks to which the felicity of common mortals is subject. I do very sincerely wish you well, and am so convinced of the justice of your matrimonial arguments, that I shall follow your example as soon as I can get a sufficient price for my coronet. In the mean time I should be happy to drill for my new situation under your auspices; but business, inexorable business, keeps me here. Your letters are forwarded. If I can serve you in any way, command me. I will endeavour to fulfil your requests as awkwardly as another. I shall pay you a visit, perhaps, in the autumn. Believe me, dear W.,
Yours unintelligibly,
B."
"Reddish's Hotel, July 31st, 1811.
My Dear W. W.,—I always understood that the lining was to accompany the carriage; if not, the carriage may accompany the lining, for I will have neither the one nor the other. In short, to prevent squabbling, this is my determination, so decide;—if you leave it to my feelings (as you say) they are very strongly in favour of the said lining. Two hundred guineas for a carriage with ancient lining!!! Rags and rubbish! You must write another pamphlet, my dear W., before; but pray do not waste your time and eloquence in expostulation, because it will do neither of us any good, but decide—content or not content. The best thing you can do for the Tutor you speak of will be to send him in your Vis (with the lining) to 'the U-Niversity of Göttingen.' How can you suppose (now that my own Bear is dead) that I have any situation for a German genius of this kind, till I get another, or some children? I am infinitely obliged by your invitations, but I can't pay so high for a second-hand chaise to make my friends a visit. The coronet will not grace the 'pretty Vis,' till your tattered lining ceases to disgrace it. Pray favour me with an answer, as we must finish the affair one way or another immediately,—before next week.
Believe me, yours truly,
Byron."
"In Seaham churchyard, without any memorial," says Mr. Surtees, "rest the remains of Joseph Blacket, an unfortunate child of genius, whose last days were soothed by the generous attention of the family of Milbanke."Hist. of Durham, vol. i. p. 272. (See also Letters, vol. i. p. 314, note 2 [Footnote 2 of Letter 154]. For Miss Milbanke, afterwards Lady Byron, see p. 118, note 4.) [Footnote 1 of Letter 7]
"It is, I believe, certainly true that the King has taken for the last three days scarcely any food at all, and that, unless a change takes place very shortly in that respect, he cannot survive many days"(Auckland Correspondence, vol. iv. p. 366).
"The King, I should suppose," wrote Lord Buckinghamshire, on August 13, "is not likely to die soon, but I fear his mental recovery is hardly to be expected "(ibid., vol. iv. p. 367).
"And fools rush in where angels fear to tread."But I don't mean to cavil, only other folks will, and he may bring all the lambs of Jacob Behmen about his ears. However, I hope he will bring it to a conclusion, though Milton is in his way.
"I have been reading the Remains of Kirke White, and find that you have to answer for misleading me. He does not, in my opinion, merit the high praise you have bestowed upon him."Writing again, August 26, he objected to the note on Matthews in Childe Harold:
"In your note, as it stands, it strikes me that the eulogy on Matthews is a little at the expense of Wingfield and others whom you have commemorated. I should think it quite enough to say that his Powers and Attainments were above all praise, without expressly admitting them to be above that of a Muse who soars high in the praise of others."return to footnote mark
"6 Mile Bottom, Aug. 27th.return to footnote mark
"My Dearest Brother,—Your letter was stupidly sent to Town to me on Sunday, from whence I arrived at home yesterday; consequently I have not received it so soon as I ought to have done. I feel so very happy to have the pleasure of hearing from you that I will not delay a moment answering it, altho' I am in all the delights of unpacking, and afraid of being too late for the Post.
"I have been a fortnight in Town, and went up on my eldest little girl's account. She had been very unwell for some time, and I could not feel happy till I had better advice than this neighbourhood affords. She is, thank Heaven! much better, and I hope in a fair way to be quite herself again. Mr. Davies flattered me by saying she was exactly the sort of child you would delight in. I am determined not to say another word in her praise for fear you should accuse me of partiality and expect too much. The youngest (little Augusta) is just 6 months old, and has no particular merit at present but a very sweet placid temper.
"Oh! that I could immediately set out to Newstead and shew them to you. I can't tell you half the happiness it would give me to see it and you; but, my dearest B., it is a long journey and serious undertaking all things considered. Mr. Davies writes me word you promise to make him a visit bye and bye; pray do, you can then so easily come here. I have set my heart upon it. Consider how very long it is since I've seen you.
"I have indeed much to tell you; but it is more easily said than written. Probably you have heard of many changes in our situation since you left England; in a pecuniary point of view it is materially altered for the worse; perhaps in other respects better. Col. Leigh has been in Dorsetshire and Sussex during my stay in Town. I expect him at home towards the end of this week, and hope to make him acquainted with you ere long.
"I have not time to write half I have to say, for my letter must go; but I prefer writing in a hurry to not writing at all. You can't think how much I feel for your griefs and losses, or how much and constantly I have thought of you lately. I began a letter to you in Town, but destroyed it, from the fear of appearing troublesome. There are times, I know, when one cannot write with any degree of comfort or satisfaction. I intend to do so again shortly, so I hope yon won't think me a bore.
Remember me most kindly to Old Joe. I rejoice to hear of his health and prosperity. Your letter (some parts of it at least) made me laugh. I am so very glad to hear you have sufficiently overcome your prejudices against the fair sex to have determined upon marrying; but I shall be most anxious that my future Belle Soeur should have more attractions than merely money, though to be sure that is somewhat necessary. I have not another moment, dearest B., so forgive me if I write again very soon, and believe me,
Your most affec'tn Sister, A. L.
Do write if you can."
"One night Scrope Davies at a Gaming house (before I was of age), being tipsy as he usually was at the Midnight hour, and having lost monies, was in vain intreated by his friends, one degree less intoxicated than himself, to come or go home. In despair, he was left to himself and to the demons of the dice-box.return
Next day, being visited about two of the Clock, by some friends just risen with a severe headache and empty pockets (who had left him losing at four or five in the morning), he was found in a sound sleep, without a night-cap, and not particularly encumbered with bed-cloathes: a Chamber-pot stood by his bed-side, brim-full of—-Bank Notes!, all won, God knows how, and crammed, Scrope knew not where; but There they were, all good legitimate notes, and to the amount of some thousand pounds."
Contents/p>
"6 Mile Bottom, Saturday, 31 Aug.return to footnote mark
My dearest brother,—I hope you don't dislike receiving letters so much as writing them, for you would in that case pronounce me a great torment. But as I prepared you in my last for its being followed very soon by another, I hope you will have reconciled your mind to the impending toil. I really wrote in such a hurry that I did not say half I wished; but I did not like to delay telling you how happy you made me by writing. I have been dwelling constantly upon the idea of going to Newstead ever since I had your wish to see me there. At last a bright thought struck me.
We intend, I believe, to go to Yorkshire in the autumn. Now, if I could contrive to pay you a visit en passant, it would be delightful, and give me the greatest pleasure. But I fear you would be obliged to make up your mind to receive my Brats too. As for my husband, he prefers the outside of the Mail to the inside of a Post-Chaise, particularly when partly occupied by Nurse and Children, so that we always travel independent of each other.
So much for this, my dear B. I can only say I should much like to see you at Newstead. The former I hope I shall at all events, as you must not be shabby, but come to Cambridge as you promised. Are you staying at Newstead now for any time? I saw George Byron in Town for one day, and he promised to call or write again, but has not done either, so I begin to think he has gone back to Lisbon. I think it is impossible not to like him; he is so good-natured and natural. We talked much of you; he told me you were grown very thin; as you don't complain, I hope you are not the worse for being so, and I remember you used to wish it. Don't you think it a great shame that George B. is not promoted? I wish there was any possibility of assisting him about it; but all I know who could do any good with you present Ministers, I don't for many reasons like to ask. Perhaps there may be a change bye and bye.
Fred Howard is married to Miss Lambton. I saw them in town in their way to Castle Howard. I hope he will be happy with all my heart; his kindness and friendship to us last year, when Col. Leigh was placed in one of the most perplexing situations that I think anybody could be in, is never to be forgotten. I think he used to be a greater favourite with you than some others of his family. Mrs. F.H. is very pretty, very young (not quite 17), and appears gentle and pleasing, which is all one can expect [to discover from] a very slight acquaintance.
Now, my dearest Byron, pray let me hear from you. I shall be daily expecting to hear of a Lady Byron, since you have confided to me your determination of marrying, in which I really hope you are serious, being convinced such an event would contribute greatly to your happiness, provided her Ladyship was the sort of person that would suit you; and you won't be angry with me for saying that it is not every one who would; therefore don't be too precipitate. You will wish me hanged, I fear, for boring you so unmercifully, so God bless you, my dearest Bro.; and, when you have time, do write. Are you going to amuse us with any more Satires? Oh, English Bards! I shall make you laugh (when we meet) about it.
Ever your most affectionate Sis. and Friend,
A.L.
"Post Mortem nihil est, ipsaque Mors nihil ... quæris quo jaceas post obitum loco? Quo non Nata jacent."2As to revealed religion, Christ came to save men; but a good Pagan will go to heaven, and a bad Nazarene to hell; "Argal" (I argue like the gravedigger) why are not all men Christians? or why are any? If mankind may be saved who never heard or dreamt, at Timbuctoo, Otaheite, Terra Incognita, etc., of Galilee and its Prophet, Christianity is of no avail: if they cannot be saved without, why are not all orthodox? It is a little hard to send a man preaching to Judæa, and leave the rest of the world—Negers and what not—dark as their complexions, without a ray of light for so many years to lead them on high; and who will believe that God will damn men for not knowing what they were never taught? I hope I am sincere; I was so at least on a bed of sickness in a far-distant country, when I had neither friend, nor comforter, nor hope, to sustain me. I looked to death as a relief from pain, without a wish for an after-life, but a confidence that the God who punishes in this existence had left that last asylum for the weary.
I am no Platonist, I am nothing at all; but I would sooner be a Paulician, Manichean, Spinozist, Gentile, Pyrrhonian, Zoroastrian, than one of the seventy-two villainous sects who are tearing each other to pieces for the love of the Lord and hatred of each other. Talk of Galileeism? Show me the effects—are you better, wiser, kinder by your precepts? I will bring you ten Mussulmans shall shame you in all goodwill towards men, prayer to God, and duty to their neighbours. And is there a Talapoin4, or a Bonze, who is not superior to a fox-hunting curate? But I will say no more on this endless theme; let me live, well if possible, and die without pain. The rest is with God, who assuredly, had He come or sent, would have made Himself manifest to nations, and intelligible to all.
Southwell, Ap: 16th, 1807.cross-reference: return to Preface
"Your Epistle, my dear Standard Bearer, augurs not much in favour of your new life, particularly the latter part, where you say your happiest Days are over. I most sincerely hope not. The past has certainly in some parts been pleasant, but I trust will be equalled, if not exceeded by the future. You hope it is not so with me.
"To be plain with Regard to myself. Nature stampt me in the Die of Indifference. I consider myself as destined never to be happy, although in some instances fortunate. I am an isolated Being on the Earth, without a Tie to attach me to life, except a few School-fellows, and a score of females. Let me but 'hear my fame on the winds' and the song of the Bards in my Norman house, I ask no more and don't expect so much. Of Religion I know nothing, at least in its favour. We have fools in all sects and Impostors in most; why should I believe mysteries no one understands, because written by men who chose to mistake madness for Inspiration, and style themselves Evangelicals? However enough on this subject. Your piety will be aghast, and I wish for no proselytes. This much I will venture to affirm, that all the virtues and pious Deeds performed on Earth can never entitle a man to Everlasting happiness in a future State; nor on the other hand can such a Scene as a Seat of eternal punishment exist, it is incompatible with the benign attributes of a Deity to suppose so.
"I am surrounded here by parsons and methodists, but, as you will see, not infected with the mania. I have lived a Deist, what I shall die I know not; however, come what may, ridens moriar.
"Nothing detains me here but the publication, which will not be complete till June. About 20 of the present pieces will be cut out, and a number of new things added. Amongst them a complete Episode of Nisus and Euryalus from Virgil, some Odes from Anacreon, and several original Odes, the whole will cover 170 pages. My last production has been a poem in imitation of Ossian, which I shall not publish, having enough without it. Many of the present poems are enlarged and altered, in short you will behold an 'Old friend with a new face.' Were I to publish all I have written in Rhyme, I should fill a decent Quarto; however, half is quite enough at present. You shall have all when we meet.
"I grow thin daily; since the commencement of my System I have lost 23 lbs. in my weight (i.e.) 1 st. and 9 lbs. When I began I weighed 14 st. 6 lbs., and on Tuesday I found myself reduced to 12 st. 11 lb. What sayest thou, Ned? do you not envy? I shall still proceed till I arrive at 12 st. and then stop, at least if I am not too fat, but shall always live temperately and take much exercise.
"If there is a possibility we shall meet in June. I shall be in Town, before I proceed to Granta, and if the 'mountain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the mountain.' I don't mean, by comparing you to the mountain, to insinuate anything on the Subject of your Size. Xerxes, it is said, formed Mount Athos into the Shape of a Woman; had he lived now, and taken a peep at Chatham, he would have spared himself the trouble and made it unnecessary by finding a Hill ready cut to his wishes.
"Adieu, dear Mont Blanc, or rather Mont Rouge; don't, for Heaven's sake, turn Volcanic, at least roll the Lava of your indignation in any other Channel, and not consume Your's ever,
Byron.
"Write Immediately."
"If I were to live over again, I do not know what I would change in my life, unless it were for—not to have lived at all. All history and experience, and the rest, teaches us that the good and evil are pretty equally balanced in this existence, and that what is most to be desired is an easy passage out of it. What can it give us but years? and those have little of good but their ending.return to footnote mark
"Of the immortality of the soul it appears to me that there can be little doubt, if we attend for a moment to the action of mind; it is in perpetual activity. I used to doubt of it, but reflection has taught me better. It acts also so very independent of body—in dreams, for instance;—incoherently and madly, I grant you, but still it is mind, and much more mind than when we are awake. Now that this should not act separately, as well as jointly, who can pronounce? The stoics, Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, call the present state 'a soul which drags a carcass,'—a heavy chain, to be sure; but all chains being material may be shaken off. How far our future life will be individual, or, rather, how far it will at all resemble our present existence, is another question; but that the mind is eternal seems as probable as that the body is not so. Of course I here venture upon the question without recurring to Revelation, which, however, is at least as rational a solution of it as any other. A material resurrection seems strange, and even absurd, except for purposes of punishment; and all punishment which is to revenge rather than correct must be morally wrong; and when the world is at an end, what moral or warning purpose can eternal tortures answer? Human passions have probably disfigured the divine doctrines here;—but the whole thing is inscrutable."
"It is useless to tell me not to reason, but to believe. You might as well tell a man not to wake, but sleep. And then to bully with torments, and all that! I cannot help thinking that the menace of hell makes as many devils as the severe penal codes of inhuman humanity make villains."
"Man is born passionate of body, but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of good in his main-spring of mind. But, God help us all! it is at present a sad jar of atoms."
"Post mortem nihil est, ipsaque mors nihil.return
........
........
Quæris, quo jaceas post obitum loco?
Quo non nata jacent."
of Menander (Menandri et Philemonis reliquiæ, edidit Augustus Meineke, p. 48). It is thus quoted by Stobæus (Florilegium, cxx. 8) as an iambic:
In the Comicorum Græcorum Sententiæ, id est
(p. 219, ed, Henricus Stephanus, MDLXIX.) it is quoted as a leonine verse:
Plautus gives it thus (Bacchides, iv. 7):
"Quem di diligunt adolescens moritur."return
"Les Européens les ont appelés talapoins, probablement du nom de l'éventail qu'ils tiennent à la main, lequel s'appelle talapat, qui signifie feuille de palmier."Possibly Byron knew the word through Voltaire (Dial. xxii., André des Couches à Siam);
| "A. des C.: | Combien avez-vous de soldats? |
| Croutef.: | Quatre-vingt mille, fort médiocrement payés. |
| A. des C.: | Et de talapoins? |
| Cr.: | Cent vingt-mille, tous fainéans et trés riches," etc. |
"24, Cockspur Street, Aug. 22'd, 1811.A few days later, Byron writes to Cawthom as follows:
"My Lord,—Mr. Green the Amanuensis has finished the Latin of the Horace, and I shall be happy to do with it as your Lordship may direct, either to forward it to Newstead, or keep it in Town. Would it not be better to print a small edition seperate (sic), and afterwards print the two satires together? This I leave to your Lordship's consideration. Four Sheets of the Travels are already printed, and one of the plates (Albanian Solain) is executed. I sent it Capt. H[obhouse] yesterday to Cork, to see if it meets his approbation. The work is printed in quarto, for which I may be in some measure indebted to your Lordship, as I urged it so strongly. I shall be extremely sorry if Capt. H. is not pleased with it, but I think he will. Your Lordship's goodness will excuse me for saying how much the very sudden and melancholy events that have lately transpired—I regret—Capt. Hobhouse has written me since the decease of Mr. Mathews. I am told Capt. H. is very much affected at it. I have received some drawings of costumes from him, which I am to deliver to your Lordship. Is it likely we shall see your Lordship in Town soon?
"I have the honour to be your Lordship's
"Most respectful and greatly obliged Servt.,
"James Cawthorn.
"If a small edition is printed of 'Horace' for the first" [words erased] "that, and I think in all probability the 'E. Bards' will want reprinting about March next, when both could be done together. Do not think me too sanguine."
"Newstead Abbey, September 4th, 1811.return
"More notes for the 'Hints'! You mistake me much by thinking me inattentive to this publication. If I had a friend willing and able to correct the press, it should be out with my good will immediately. Pray attend to annexing additional notes in their proper places, and let them be added immediately.
"Yours, etc.,
"Byron."
"London, Sept. 4, 1811, Wednesday.return
"My Lord,—An absence of some days, passed in the country, has prevented me from writing earlier in answer to your obliging letter. I have now, however, the pleasure of sending under a separate cover, the first proof sheet of your Lordship's Poem, which is so good as to be entitled to all your care to render perfect. Besides its general merit, there are parts, which, I am tempted to believe, far excel anything that your Lordship has hitherto published, and it were therefore grievous indeed, if you do not condescend to bestow upon it all the improvement of which your Lordship's mind is so capable; every correction already made is valuable, and this circumstance renders me more confident in soliciting for it your further attention.
"There are some expressions, too, concerning Spain and Portugal, which, however just, and particularly so at the time they were conceived, yet as they do not harmonize with the general feeling, would so greatly interfere with the popularity which the poem is, in other respects, so certainly calculated to excite, that, in compassion to your publisher, who does not presume to reason upon the subject, otherwise than as a mere matter of business, I hope your Lordship's goodness will induce you to obviate them, and, with them, perhaps, some religious feelings which may deprive me of some customers amongst the Orthodox.
"Could I flatter myself that these suggestions were not obtrusive, I would hazard another, in an earnest solicitation that your Lordship would add the two promised Cantos, and complete the Poem. It were cruel indeed not to perfect a work which contains so much that is excellent; your Fame, my Lord, demands it; you are raising a Monument that will outlive your present feelings, and it should therefore be so constructed as to excite no other associations than those of respect and admiration for your Lordship's Character and Genius.
"I trust that you will pardon the warmth of this address when I assure your Lordship that it arises, in the greatest degree, in a sincere regard for your lasting reputation, with, however, some view to that portion of it, which must attend the Publisher of so beautiful a Poem, as your Lordship is capable of rendering
"The Romaunt of Childe Harold.
"I have the honour to be, My Lord,
"Your Lordship's
"Obedient and faithful servant,
"John Murray."
"Sweet maid, if thou would'st charm my sight,return to footnote mark
And bid these arms thy neck infold;
That rosy cheek, that lily hand,
Would give thy poet more delight,
Than all Bocara's vaunted gold,
Than all the gems of Samarcand."
"In fact, there's nothing makes me so much grieve,return to footnote mark
As that abominable tittle-tattle,
Which is the cud eschewed by human cattle."
"Heel-Tap. Now, neighbours, have a good caution that this Master Mug does not cajole you; he is a damn'd palavering fellow."But there is no passage in the play which exactly corresponds with Byron's quotation.
'Tis said at times the sullen tear would start.Now, a line or two after, I have a repetition of the epithet "sullen reverie;" so (if it be so) let us have "speechless reverie," or "silent reverie;" but, at all events, do away the recurrence.
Good plays are scarce,I won't dispute with you on the Arcana of your new calling; they are Bagatelles like the King of Poland's rosary. One remark, and I have done; the basis of your religion is injustice; the Son of God, the pure, the immaculate, the innocent, is sacrificed for the Guilty. This proves His heroism; but no more does away man's guilt than a schoolboy's volunteering to be flogged for another would exculpate the dunce from negligence, or preserve him from the Rod. You degrade the Creator, in the first place, by making Him a begetter of children; and in the next you convert Him into a Tyrant over an immaculate and injured Being, who is sent into existence to suffer death for the benefit of some millions of Scoundrels, who, after all, seem as likely to be damned as ever. As to miracles, I agree with Hume that it is more probable men should lie or be deceived, than that things out of the course of Nature should so happen. Mahomet wrought miracles, Brothers3 the prophet had proselytes, and so would Breslaw4 the conjuror, had he lived in the time of Tiberius.
So Moore writes Farce;
Is Fame like his so brittle?
We knew before
That "Little's" Moore,
But now 'tis Moore that's Little.
"Fully believing this to be the Man whom God has appointed, I engrave this likeness. William Sharp."return
"et Pangloss disait quelquefois à Candide; Tous les événements sont enchainés dans le meilleur des mondes possibles," etc.Hodgson replies (September 18, 1811):
"Your last letter has unfeignedly grieved me. Believing, as I do from my heart, that you would be better and happier by thoroughly examining the evidences for Christianity, how can I hear you say you will not read any book on the subject, without being pained? But God bless you under all circumstances. I will say no more. Only do not talk of 'shocking my prejudices,' or of 'rushing to see me before I am a Deacon.' I wish to see you at all times; and as to our different opinions, we can easily keep them to ourselves."The next day he writes again:
"Let me make one other effort. You mentioned an opinion of Hume's about miracles. For God's sake,—hear me, Byron, for God's sake—examine Paley's answer to that opinion; examine the whole of Paley's Evidences. The two volumes may be read carefully in less than a week. Let me for the last time by our friendship, implore you to read them."return
"Fresh from the fencing rooms of Angelo and Jackson, he used to amuse himself by renewing his practice of Carte et Tierce, with his walking-cane directed against the bookshelves, while Murray was reading passages from the poem with occasional ejaculations of admiration, on which Byron would say, 'You think that a good idea, do you, Murray?' Then he would fence and lunge with his walking-stick at some special book which he had picked out on the shelves before him. As Murray afterwards said, 'I was often very glad to get rid of him!'"(Smiles's Memoir of John Murray, vol. i. p. 207).
"L'univers est une espèce de livre, dont on n'a lu que la première page quand on n'a vu que son pays. J'en ai feuilleté un assez grand nombre, que j'ai trouvé également mauvaises. Cet examen ne m'a point été infructueux. Je haïssais ma patrie. Toutes les impertinences des peuples divers, parmi lesquels j'ai vécu, m'ont réconcilié avec elle. Quand je n'aurais tiré d'autre bénéfice de mes voyages que celui-là, je n'en regretterais ni les frais, ni les fatigues.""Le Cosmopolite."1 If not too long, I think it will suit the book. The passage is from a little French volume, a great favourite with me, which I picked up in the Archipelago. I don't think it is well known in England; Monbron is the author; but it is a work sixty years old.
"A literary friend of mine, walking out one lovely evening last summer, on the eleventh bridge of the Paddington canal, was alarmed by the cry of 'one in jeopardy:' he rushed along, collected a body of Irish haymakers (supping on buttermilk in an adjacent paddock), procured three rakes, one eel spear and a landing-net, and at last (horresco referens) pulled out—his own publisher. The unfortunate man was gone for ever, and so was a large quarto wherewith he had taken the leap, which proved, on inquiry, to have been Mr. Southey's last work. Its 'alacrity of sinking' was so great, that it has never since been heard of; though some maintain that it is at this moment concealed at Alderman Birch's pastry-premises, Cornhill. Be this as it may, the coroner's inquest brought in a verdict of 'Felo de Bibliopolâ' against a quarto unknown,' and circumstantial evidence being since strong against the Curse of Kehama (of which the above words are an exact description), it will be tried by its peers next session, in Grub Street—Arthur, Alfred, Davideis, Richard Coeur de Lion, Exodus, Exodiad, Epigoniad, Calvary, Fall of Cambria, Siege of Acre, Don Roderick, and Tom Thumb the Great, are the names of the twelve jurors. The judges are Pye, Bowles, and the bell-man of St. Sepulchre's."return
Oh Thou, in Hellas deem'd of heavenly birth,and so on. So I have got rid of Dr. Lowth and "drunk" to boot, and very glad I am to say so. I have also sullenised the line as heretofore, and in short have been quite conformable.
etc., etc.
Since shamed full oft by later lyres on earth,
Mine, etc.
Yet there I've wandered by the vaunted rill;
"And now I'm in the world alone,return
Upon the wide, wide sea;
But why should I for others groan,
When none will sigh for me?
Perchance my dog will whine in vain,
Till fed by stranger hands;
But long ere I come back again
He'd tear me where he stands."
Some bitter bubbles up, and e'en on roses stings.I have altered it as follows:
Full from the heart of joy's delicious springsIf you will point out the stanzas on Cintra1 which you wish recast, I will send you mine answer. Be good enough to address your letters here, and they will either be forwarded or saved till my return. My agent comes tomorrow, and we shall set out immediately.
Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.
"But ne'er magician's wandIn the Catalogue of Byron's books, sold April 5, 1816, appear four editions of Tasso's Gerusalemme Liberata, being those of 1776, 1785, 1813, and one undated.
Wrought change, with all Armida's fairy art,
Like what this light touch left on Juan's heart."
| XXV | "In golden characters, right well designed, First on the list appeareth one 'Junot;' Then certain other glorious names we find; (Which rhyme compelleth me to place below—) Dull victors! baffled by a vanquished foe, Wheedled by conynge tongues of laurels due, Stand, worthy of each other, in a row Sirs Arthur, Harry, and the dizzard Hew Dalrymple, seely wight, sore dupe of 'tother tew." |
| XXVII | "But when Convention sent his handy work, Pens, tongues, feet, hands, combined in wild uproar; Mayor, Alderman, laid down th' uplifted fork; The bench of Bishops half forgot to snore; Stern Cobbett, who for one whole week forbore To question aught, once more with transport leapt, And bit his dev'lish quill agen, and swore With foe such treaty never should be kept. Then burst the blatant beast, and roared and raged and—slept!!!" |
| XXVIII | "Thus unto heaven appealed the people; heaven, Which loves the lieges of our gracious King, Decreed that ere our generals were forgiven, Inquiry should be held about the thing. But mercy cloaked the babes beneath her wing; And as they spared our foes so spared we them. (Where was the pity of our sires for Byng?) Yet knaves, not idiots, should the law condemn. Then live ye, triumph gallants! and bless your judges' phlegm." |
"I have almost forgot the taste of fears:Macbeth, act v. sc. 5.
...
I have supp'd full with horrors."
"Murray's shopman, taught, I presume, by himself, calls Psyche 'Pishy,' The Four Slaves of Cythera 'The Four do. of Cythera,' and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage 'Child of Harrow's Pilgrimage.' This misnomering Vendor of Books must have been misbegotten in some portentous union of the Malaprops and the Slipslops."return
"Now full in sight the Paphian gardens smile,return to footnote mark
And thence by many a green and summer isle,
Whose ancient walls and temples seem to sleep,
Enshadowed on the mirror of the deep,
They coast along Cythera's happy ground,
Gem of the sea, for love's delight renown'd."
"I'm never to be delighted with your agreeable wild notes, unfeeling monster!"return
| IX | There, thou! whose love and life together fled, Have left me here to love and live in vain:— Twined with my heart, and can I deem thee dead, When busy Memory flashes o'er my brain? Well—I will dream that we may meet again, And woo the vision to my vacant breast; If aught of young Remembrance then remain, Be as it may Whate'er beside Futurity's behest; |
| or | Howe'er may be For me 'twere bliss enough to see thy spirit blest! |
Oh, known the earliest and beloved the most,I shall alter the epithet to "esteemed the most." The present stanzas are for the end of Canto II. For the beginning of the week I shall be at No. 8, my old lodgings, in St. James' Street, where I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you.
"a delightful companion, gay without being boisterous, witty without effort, comic without coarseness, and sentimental without being lachrymose. He reminds one of the fairy who, whenever she spoke, let diamonds fall from her lips. My tête-à-tête suppers with Moore are among the most agreeable impressions I retain of the hours passed in London."In July, 1806, in consequence of the article in the Edinburgh Review on his recent volume of Poems, Moore sent, through his friend Hume, a challenge to Jeffrey, who was seconded by Francis Horner, and a meeting was arranged. Moore, who had only once in his life discharged a firearm of any kind, and then nearly blew his thumb off, borrowed a case of pistols from William Spencer, and bought in Bond Street enough powder and bullets for a score of duels. The parties met at Chalk Farm; the seconds loaded the pistols, placed the men at their posts, and were about to give the signal to fire, when the police officers, rushing upon them from behind a hedge, knocked Jeffrey's weapon from his hand, disarmed Moore, and conveyed the whole party to Bow Street. They were released on bail; but, on Moore returning to claim the borrowed pistols, the officer refused to give them up, because only Moore's pistol was loaded with ball. Horner, however, gave evidence that he had seen both pistols loaded; and there, but for the reports circulated in the newspapers, the affair would have ended. But the joke was too good to be allowed to drop, and, in spite of Moore's published letter, he was for months a target for the wits (Memoirs, Journals, and Correspondence, vol. i. pp. 199-208).
"Dublin, January 1, 1810.Owing to Byron's absence abroad, the letter never reached him; it was, in fact, kept back by Hodgson. On his return to England, Moore, who in the interval had married, sent him a second letter, restating the nature of the insult he had received in English Bards.
"My Lord,—Having just seen the name of 'Lord Byron' prefixed to a work entitled English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers, in which, as it appears to me, the lie is given to a public statement of mine, respecting an affair with Mr. Jeffrey some years since, I beg you will have the goodness to inform me whether I may consider your Lordship as the author of this publication.
"I shall not, I fear, be able to return to London for a week or two; but, in the mean time, I trust your Lordship will not deny me the satisfaction of knowing whether you avow the insult contained in the passages alluded to.
"It is needless to suggest to your Lordship the propriety of keeping our correspondence secret.
"I have the honour to be,
"Your Lordship's very humble servant,
"Thomas Moore.
"22, Molesworth Street."
"'It is now useless,' I continued (Life, p. 143), 'to speak of the steps with which it was my intention to follow up that letter. The time which has elapsed since then, though it has done away neither the injury nor the feeling of it, has, in many respects, materially altered my situation; and the only object which I have now in writing to your Lordship is to preserve some consistency with that former letter, and to prove to you that the injured feeling still exists, however circumstances may compel me to be deaf to its dictates, at present. When I say "injured feeling," let me assure your Lordship that there is not a single vindictive sentiment in my mind towards you. I mean but to express that uneasiness, under (what I consider to be) a charge of falsehood, which must haunt a man of any feeling to his grave, unless the insult be retracted or atoned for; and which, if I did not feel, I should, indeed, deserve far worse than your Lordship's satire could inflict upon me.' In conclusion I added, that so far from being influenced by any angry or resentful feeling towards him, it would give me sincere pleasure if, by any satisfactory explanation, he would enable me to seek the honour of being henceforward ranked among his acquaintance."Byron's letter of October 27, 1811. was written in reply to this second letter from Moore.
As your Lordship does not show any wish to proceed beyond the rigid formulary of explanation, it is not for me to make any further advances. We Irishmen, in businesses of this kind, seldom know any medium between decided hostility and decided friendship; but, as any approaches towards the latter alternative must now depend entirely on your Lordship, I have only to repeat that I am satisfied with your letter, and that I have the honour to be," etc., etc.return to footnote mark
"Piqued," says Moore (Life, 144), "at the manner in which my efforts towards a more friendly understanding were received,"he had briefly expressed his satisfaction at Byron's explanation, and added that the correspondence might close.
"Neither Moore nor myself had ever seen Byron when it was settled that he should dine at my house to meet Moore; nor was he known by sight to Campbell, who, happening to call upon me that morning, consented to join the party. I thought it best that I alone should be in the drawing-room when Byron entered it; and Moore and Campbell accordingly withdrew. Soon after his arrival, they returned; and I introduced them to him severally, naming them as Adam named the beasts. When we sat down to dinner, I asked Byron if he would take soup? 'No; he never took soup.' 'Would he take some fish?' 'No; he never took fish.' Presently I asked if he would eat some mutton? 'No; he never ate mutton.' I then asked if he would take a glass of wine? 'No; he never tasted wine.' It was now necessary to inquire what he did eat and drink; and the answer was, 'Nothing but hard biscuits and soda-water.' Unfortunately, neither hard biscuits nor soda-water were at hand; and he dined upon potatoes bruised down on his plate and drenched with vinegar. My guests stayed very late, discussing the merits of Walter Scott and Joanna Baillie. Some days after, meeting Hobhouse, I said to him, 'How long will Lord Byron persevere in his present diet? 'He replied, 'Just as long as you continue to notice it.' I did not then know, what I now know to be a fact, that Byron, after leaving my house, had gone to a Club in St. James's Street and eaten a hearty meat-supper"(Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers, pp. 231, 232). Moore's (Life, p. 145) first impressions of Byron were
"the nobleness of his air, his beauty, the gentleness of his voice and manners, and—what was naturally not the least attraction—his marked kindness to myself. Being in mourning for his mother, the colour, as well of his dress, as of his glossy, curling, and picturesque hair, gave more effect to the pure, spiritual paleness of his features, in the expression of which, when he spoke, there was a perpetual play of lively thought, though melancholy was their habitual character when in repose."return to footnote mark
"the town mouse a sleek, well-fed, sly, white mouse, and the country mouse with its rough, weather-worn face and grey hairs; the town mouse displaying its delicate little rolls and pyramids of glistening strawberries, the country mouse exulting in its hollow tree, its crust of bread and liberty, and rallying its brother on his late hours and frequent dinners."One of his earliest recollections was the sight of a rebel's head upon a pole at Temple Bar. He had talked with a Thames boatman who remembered Pope; had seen Garrick in The Suspicious Husband; had heard Sir Joshua Reynolds deliver his last lecture as President of the Royal Academy; had seen John Wesley "lying in state" in the City Road; had gone to call on Dr. Johnson, but, when his hand was on the knocker, found his courage fled. He lived to be offered the laureateship in 1850, on the death of Wordsworth, and to decline it in favour of Tennyson.
"Time was," wrote Mathias (Pursuits of Literature, note, p. 360, ed. 1808), "when bankers were as stupid as their guineas could make them; they were neither orators, nor painters, nor poets. But now. .. Mr. Rogers dreams on Parnassus; and, if I am rightly informed, there is a great demand among his brethren for the Pleasures of Memory."Rogers began to write poetry at an early age, and continued to write it all his life. His Ode to Superstition was published in 1786; the Pleasures of Memory, in 1792; the Epistle to a Friend, in 1798; Columbus, in 1812; Jacqueline, in 1813; Human Life, in 1819; Italy, in 1822-34. His later years were occupied in revising, correcting, or amplifying his published poems, and in preparing the notes to Italy, which are admirable studies in compactness and precision of language. A disciple of Pope, an imitator of Goldsmith, Rogers was rather a skilful adapter than an original poet. His chief talent was his taste; if he could not originate, he could appreciate. The fastidious care which he lavished on his work has preserved it. In his commonplace-book he has entered the number of years which he spent in composing and revising his poems. His Pleasures of Memory occupied seven years, Columbus fourteen, and Italy fifteen. An excellent judge of art, he employed Flaxman, Stothard, and Turner at a time when their powers were little appreciated by his fellow-countrymen. Of his taste Byron speaks enthusiastically in his Journal (see p. 331). But the following passage (hitherto unpublished) from his Detached Thoughts (Ravenna, 1821) gives his later opinion of the man:
"When Sheridan was on his death-bed, Rogers aided him with purse and person. This was particularly kind of Rogers, who always spoke ill of Sheridan (to me, at least), but, indeed, he does that of everybody to anybody. Rogers is the reverse of the line:In a manuscript note to these passages Sir Walter Scott writes,'The best good man with the worst natured Muse,'being:'The worst good man with the best natured Muse.'His Muse being all Sentiment and Sago and Sugar, while he himself is a venomous talker. I say 'worst good man' because he is (perhaps) a good man; at least he does good now and then, as well he may, to purchase himself a shilling's worth of salvation for his slanders. They are so little, too—small talk—and old Womanny, and he is malignant too—and envious—and—he be damned!"
"I never heard Rogers say a single word against Byron, which is rather odd too. Byron wrote a bitter and undeserved satire on Rogers. This conduct must have been motived by something or other."Speaking of Rogers and Sheridan, he says,
"He certainly took pennyworths out of his friend's character. I sat three hours for my picture to Sir Thomas Lawrence, during which the whole conversation was filled up by Rogers with stories of Sheridan, for the least of which, if true, he deserved the gallows. One respected his committing a rape on his sister-in-law on the day of her husband's funeral. Others were worse."In politics Rogers was a Whig, in religion a Presbyterian. But he meddled little with either. In private life he was as kindly in action as he was caustic in speech. A sensitive man himself, he studied to be satirical to others. When Ward condemned Columbus in the Quarterly Review, Rogers repaid his critic in the stinging epigram:
"Ward has no heart, they say; but I deny it;—Byron warmly admired Rogers's poetry. To him he dedicated The Giaour, in
He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it."
"admiration for his genius, respect for his character, and gratitude for his friendship."The Quarterly Review, in an article on The Corsair and Lara, mentions
"the highly refined, but somewhat insipid, pastoral tale of Jacqueline."Byron, on reading the review, said to Lady Byron,
"The man's a fool. Jacqueline is as superior to Lara as Rogers is to me"(Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers, p. 154, note).
"The Pleasures of Memory," he said (Lady Blessington's Conversations, p. 153), "is a very beautiful poem, harmonious, finished, and chaste; it contains not a single meretricious ornament. If Rogers has not fixed himself in the higher fields of Parnassus, he has, at least, cultivated a very pretty flower-garden at its base."But he goes on to speak of the poem (p. 354) as
"a hortus siccus of pretty flowers," and an illustration of "the difference between inspiration and versification."If Rogers ever saw Byron's Question and Answer (1818), he was generous enough to forget the satire. In Italy he paid a noble tribute to the genius of the dead poet—
"He is now at rest;return
And praise and blame fall on his ear alike,
Now dull in death. Yes, Byron, thou art gone,
Gone like a star that through the firmament
Shot and was lost, in its eccentric course
Dazzling, perplexing. Yet thy heart, methinks,
Was generous, noble—noble in its scorn
Of all things low or little; nothing there
Sordid or servile. If imagined wrongs
Pursued thee, urging thee sometimes to do
Things long regretted, oft, as many know,
None more than I, thy gratitude would build
On slight foundations; and, if in thy life
Not happy, in thy death thou surely wert,
Thy wish accomplished; dying in the land
Where thy young mind had caught ethereal fire,
Dying in Greece, and in a cause so glorious!
They in thy train—ah, little did they think,
As round we went, that they so soon should sit
Mourning beside thee, while a Nation mourned,
Changing her festal for her funeral song;
That they so soon should hear the minute-gun,
As morning gleamed on what remained of thee,
Roll o'er the sea, the mountains, numbering
Thy years of joy and sorrow.
Thou art gone;
And he who would assail thee in thy grave,
Oh, let him pause! For who among us all,
Tried as thou wert—even from thy earliest years,
When wandering, yet unspoilt, a Highland boy—
Tried as thou wert, and with thy soul of flame;
Pleasure, while yet the down was on thy cheek,
Uplifting, pressing, and to lips like thine,
Her charmed cup—ah, who among us all
Could say he had not erred as much, and more?"
disciple I won't come within wine-shot of
such determined topers as your collegiates. I have not yet subscribed to
Bowen. I mean to cut Harrow "enim unquam" as somebody classically
said for a farewell sentence. I am superannuated there too, and, in
short, as old at twenty-three as many men at seventy.
"I enclose you the long-delayed letter, which, from the similarity of hands alone, Davies and I will go shares in a bet of ten to one is the cartel in question."return to footnote mark
"Yet Caledonia claims some native worth," etc.3If you are not content now, I must say with the Irish drummer to the deserter who called out,
"Flog high, flog low"Have you given up wine, even British wine?
"The de'il burn ye, there's no pleasing you, flog where one will."
"Dulces reminiscitur Argos"attended me to the very spot to which that sentence alludes in the mind of the fallen Argive.—Our intimacy began before we began to date at all, and it rests with you to continue it till the hour which must number it and me with the things that were.
"What news, what news? Queen Orraca,Coleridge is lecturing3.
What news of scribblers five?
S——, W——, C——, L——d, and L——e?
All damn'd, though yet alive."
"Many an old fool," said Hannibal to some such lecturer, "but such as this, never."4Ever yours, etc.
"What news, O King Affonso,The blanks stand for Scott or Southey, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Lloyd, and Lamb(e), with the lines from New Morality in his mind:
What news of the Friars five?
Have they preached to the Miramamolin;
And are they still alive?"
"Coleridge and Southey, Lloyd and Lamb and Co.,return
Tune all your mystic harps to praise Lepaux."
"neither Southey, Scott, nor Campbell would by their poetry survive much beyond the day when they lived and wrote. Their works seemed to him not to have the seeds of vitality, the real germs of long life. The two first were entertaining as tellers of stories in verse; but the last, in his Pleasures of Hope, obviously had no fixed design, but when a thought (of course, not a very original one) came into his head, he put it down in couplets, and afterwards strung the disjecta membra (not poetæ) together. Some of the best things in it were borrowed; for instance the line:(Ashe's Introduction to Lectures on Shakspere, pp. 16, 17).'And freedom shriek'd when Kosciusko fell,'was taken from a much-ridiculed piece by Dennis, a pindaric on William III.:'Fair Liberty shriek'd out aloud, aloud Religion groaned.'It is the same production in which the following much-laughed-at specimen of bathos is found:'Nor Alps nor Pyreneans keep him out,Coleridge had little toleration for Campbell, and considered him, as far as he had gone, a mere verse-maker "
Nor fortified redoubt.'
"I have seen many old fools often, but such an old fool as Phormio, never(Cicero, De Oratore, ii. 18).
(Multos se deliros senes sæpe vidisse; sed qui magis, quam Phormio, deliraret, vidisse neminem)"
"I'm parish clerk and sexton here,return to footnote mark
My name is Caleb Quotem,
I'm painter, glazier, auctioneer,
In short, I am factotum."
...
"At night by the fire, like a good, jolly cock,
When my day's work is done and all over,
I tipple, I smoke, and I wind up the clock,
With my sweet Mrs. Quotem in clover.
"As dreadful as the Manichean God,return
Adored through fear, strong only to destroy."
"Long may Long-Tilney-Wellesley-Long-Pole live."For Byron's allusion to him in The Waltz, see Poems, 1898, vol. i. p. 484, note 1. Having run through his wife's large fortune by his extravagant expenditure at Wanstead Park and elsewhere, he was obliged, in 1822, to escape from his creditors to the Continent. There (1823-25) he lived with Mrs. Bligh, wife of Captain Bligh, of the Coldstream Guards. His wife died in 1825, after filing a bill for divorce, and making her children wards of Chancery. Wellesley subsequently (1828) married Mrs. Bligh; but the second wife was as ill treated as the first, and he left her so destitute that she was a frequent applicant for relief at the metropolitan police-courts. He died of heart-disease in July, 1857, a pensioner on the charity of his cousin, the second Duke of Wellington.
"When you go to Naples," said Byron to Lady Blessington (Conversations, pp. 238, 239), "you must make acquaintance with Sir William Drummond, for he is certainly one of the most erudite men and admirable philosophers now living. He has all the wit of Voltaire, with a profundity that seldom appertains to wit, and writes so forcibly, and with such elegance and purity of style, that his works possess a peculiar charm. Have you read his Academical Questions? If not, get them directly, and I think you will agree with me, that the preface to that work alone would prove Sir William Drummond an admirable writer. He concludes it by the following sentence, which I think one of the best in our language:return'Prejudice may be trusted to guard the outworks for a short space of time, while Reason slumbers in the citadel; but if the latter sink into a lethargy, the former will quickly erect a standard for herself. Philosophy, wisdom, and liberty support each other; he who will not reason is a bigot; he who cannot is a fool; and he who dares not is a slave.'Is not the passage admirable? How few could have written it! and yet how few read Drummond's works! They are too good to be popular. His Odin is really a fine poem, and has some passages that are beautiful, but it is so little read that it may be said to have dropped still-born from the press—a mortifying proof of the bad taste of the age. His translation of Persius is not only very literal, but preserves much of the spirit of the original;... he has escaped all the defects of translators, and his Persius resembles the original as nearly, in feeling and sentiment, as two languages so dissimilar in idiom will admit."
"I am indescribably occupied," she writes to Dr. Burney, October 12, 1813, "in giving more and more last touches to my work, about which I begin to grow very anxious. I am to receive merely £500 upon delivery of the MS.; the two following £500 by instalments from nine months to nine months, that is, in a year and a half from the day of publication. If all goes well, the whole will be £3000, but only at the end of the sale of eight thousand copies."The book failed; but rumour magnified the sum received by the writer. Mrs. Piozzi, shortly after the publication of The Wanderer and of Byron's lines, "Weep, daughter of a royal line," writes to Samuel Lysons, February 17, 1814:
"Come now, do send me a kind letter and tell me if Madame d'Arblaye gets £3000 for her book or no, and if Lord Byron is to be called over about some verses he has written, as the papers hint."(Autobiography, Letters, and Literary Remains, vol. ii. p. 246).
"Away, away, ye notes of woe," etc., etc1.I have gotten a book by Sir W. Drummond (printed, but not published), entitled Œdipus Judaicus in which he attempts to prove the greater part of the Old Testament an allegory, particularly Genesis and Joshua. He professes himself a theist in the preface, and handles the literal interpretation very roughly. I wish you could see it. Mr. Ward2 has lent it me, and I confess to me it is worth fifty Watsons.
"an a man will be beaten with brains, he shall never keep a clean doublet."4Campbell5 will be desperately annoyed. I never saw a man (and of him I have seen very little) so sensitive;—what a happy temperament! I am sorry for it; what can he fear from criticism? I don't know if Bland has seen Miller, who was to call on him yesterday.
"Ward is one of the best-informed men I know, and, in a tête-à-tête, is one of the most agreeable companions. He has great originality, and, being très distrait, it adds to the piquancy of his observations, which are sometimes somewhat trop naïve, though always amusing. This naïveté of his is the more piquant from his being really a good-natured man, who unconsciously thinks aloud. Interest Ward on a subject, and I know no one who can talk better. His expressions are concise without being poor, and terse and epigrammatic without being affected," etc.Of somewhat the same opinion was Lady H. Leveson Gower (Letters of Harriet, Countess Granville, vol. i. pp. 41, 42):
"The charm of Mr. Ward's conversation is exactly what Mr. Luttrell wants, a sort of abandon, and being entertaining because it is his nature and he cannot help it. I only mean Mr. Ward in his happier hour, for what I have said of him is the very reverse of what he is when vanity or humour seize upon him."return
"In the evening at Coleridge's lecture. Conclusion of Milton. Not one of the happiest of Coleridge's efforts. Rogers was there, and with him was Lord Byron. He was wrapped up, but I recognized his club foot, and, indeed, his countenance and general appearance."return
| Benedict | No; if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him. |
"Nobody but Campbell the poet, Rocca, and her own daughter. After dinner, Campbell read to us a discourse of his upon English poetry, and upon some of the great poets. There are always signs of a poet and critic of genius in all he does, often encumbered by too ornate a style."Campbell's best work was done between 1798 and 1810. Within that period were published The Pleasures of Hope (1799), Gertrude of Wyoming (1809), and such other shorter poems as Hohenlinden, Ye Mariners of England, The Battle of the Baltic, and O'Connor's Child. His Ritter Bann, a reminiscence of his sojourn abroad (1800-1), was not published till later; both it and The Last Man were published in the New Monthly Magazine, during the period of his editorship. An excellent judge of verse, he collected Specimens of the British Poets (1819), to which he added a valuable essay on poetry and short biographies. His Theodoric (1824), Pilgrim of Glencoe (1842), and Lives of Mrs. Siddons, Petrarch, and Shakespeare added nothing to his reputation.
"There are some of Campbell's lyrics," said Rogers (Table-Talk, etc., pp. 254, 255), which will never die. His Pleasures of Hope is no great favourite with me. The feeling throughout his Gertrude is very beautiful."Wordsworth also thought the Pleasures of Hope
"strangely over-rated; its fine words and sounding lines please the generality of readers, who never stop to ask themselves the meaning of a passage."Byron, who calls Campbell "a warm-hearted and honest man," thought that his
"'Lochiel' and 'Mariners' are spirit-stirring productions; his Gertrude of Wyoming is beautiful; and some of the episodes in his Pleasures of Hope pleased me so much that I know them by heart"(Lady Blessington's Conversations with Lord Byron, p. 353).
"He is a short, small man, and has one of the roundest and most lively faces I have seen amongst this grave people. His manners seemed as open as his countenance, and his conversation as spirited as his poetry. He could have kept me amused till morning."Shortly afterwards, Ticknor went to see him at Sydenham (ibid., p. 65):
"Campbell had the same good spirits and love of merriment as when I met him before,—the same desire to amuse everybody about him; but still I could see, as I partly saw then, that he labours under the burden of an extraordinary reputation, too easily acquired, and feels too constantly that it is necessary for him to make an exertion to satisfy expectation. The consequence is that, though he is always amusing, he is not always quite natural."Sir Walter Scott made a similar remark about the numbing effect of Campbell's reputation upon his literary work; his deference to critics ruined his individuality. It was Scott's admiration for Hohenlinden which induced Campbell to publish the poem. The two men, travelling in a stage-coach alone, beguiled the way by repeating poetry. At last Scott asked Campbell for something of his own. He replied that there was one thing he had never printed, full of "drums and trumpets and blunderbusses and thunder," and that he did not know if there was any good in it. He then repeated Hohenlinden. When he had finished, Scott broke out with,
"But, do you know, that's devilish fine! Why, it's the finest thing you ever wrote, and it must be printed!"return
"My friend Dug is a proof that a good heart cannot compensate for an irritable temper; whenever he is named, people dwell on the last and pass over the first; and yet he really has an excellent heart, and a sound head, of which I, in common with many others of his friends, have had various proofs. He is clever, too, and well informed, and I do think would have made a figure in the world, were it not for his temper, which gives a dictatorial tone to his manner, that is offensive to the amour propre of those with whom he mixes."return
"I was a member of the Alfred. It was pleasant; a little too sober and literary, and bored with Sotheby and Sir Francis d'Ivernois; but one met Peel, and Ward, and Valentia, and many other pleasant or known people; and it was, upon the whole, a decent resource in a rainy day, in a dearth of parties, or parliament, or in an empty season."It was, says Mr. Wheatley (London Past and Present), known as the Half-read.
"The Alfred, like all other clubs, was much haunted with boars, a tusky monster which delights to range where men most do congregate. A boar, or bore, is always remarkable for something respectable, such as wealth, character, high birth, acknowledged talent, or, in short, for something that forbids people to turn him out by the shoulders, or, in other words, to cut him dead. Much of this respectability is supplied by the mere circumstance of belonging to a certain society of clubists, within whose districts the bore obtains free-warren, and may wallow or grunt at pleasure. Old stagers in the club know and avoid the fated corner and arm-chair which he haunts; but he often rushes from his lair on the inexperienced."return
"Balnea, vina, Venus corrumpunt corpora nostra."The words are thus given in Grüter (Corpus Inscriptionum (1603), p. DCCCCXII. 10.
"Plus ego polliceor: nil recitabo tibi."return
"On this occasion, another of the noble poet's peculiarities was, somewhat startlingly, introduced to my notice. When we were on the point of setting out from his lodgings in St. James's Street, it being then about midday, he said to the servant, who was shutting the door of the vis-a-vis, 'Have you put in the pistols?' and was answered in the affirmative. It was difficult,—more especially taking into account the circumstances under which we had just become acquainted,— to keep from smiling at this singular noonday precaution."return to footnote mark
"Many gentlemen have been weak enough to fancy themselves actors, but no one ever persevered in obtruding himself for so long a time on the notice of the public in spite of laughter, hissing, etc."On December 9, 1811, he appeared at the Haymarket as "Lothario" in Rowe's Fair Penitent. Mathews, at Covent Garden, imitated his performance, in Bate Dudley's At Home, as "Mr. Romeo Rantall," appearing in the
"pink silk vest and cloak, white satin breeches and stockings, Spanish hat, with a rich high plume of ostrich feathers,"in which Coates had played "Lothario".
"Pray don't forget me, as I shall never cease thinking of you, my Dearest and only Friend, (signed) S. H. V."To this Byron has added this note:
"This was written on the 11th of January, 1812; on the 28th I received ample proof that the Girl had forgotten me and herself too. Heigho! B."The letters show, writes Moore (Life, p. 152),
"how gravely and coolly the young lord could arbitrate on such an occasion, and with what considerate leaning towards the servant whose fidelity he had proved, in preference to any new liking or fancy by which it might be suspected he was actuated toward the other."In a MS. book written by Mrs. Heath of Newstead (née Rebekah Beardall), it is stated that the elder Rushton had as his farm-servant Fletcher, afterwards Byron's valet. Byron watched Fletcher and young Robert Rushton ploughing, took a fancy to both, and engaged them as his servants. Rushton accompanied Byron to Geneva, but afterwards entered the service of James Wedderburn Webster (see p. 2, note 1). In 1827 he married a woman of the name of Bagnall, and with her help kept a school at Arnold, near Nottingham. Subsequently he took a farm on the Newstead estate, named Hazelford, and shortly afterwards died, leaving a widow and three children.
"Having compared Rogers's poems to a flower-garden, to what shall I compare Moore's?—to the Valley of Diamonds, where all is brilliant and attractive, but where one is so dazzled by the sparkling on every side that one knows not where to fix, each gem beautiful in itself, but overpowering to the eye from their quantity."return to footnote mark
"Oh, woman! woman! deceitful, damnable, (changing into a half-smile) delightful woman! do all one can, there's nothing else worth thinking of."return
"Sir,—I take the liberty of sending an alteration of the two last lines of Stanza 2'd which I wish to run as follows,return'Gibbets on Sherwood will heighten the SceneryI wish you could insert it tomorrow for a particular reason; but I feel much obliged by your inserting it at all. Of course, do not put my name to the thing.
Shewing how Commerce, how Liberty thrives!'
Believe me, Your obliged and very obed't Serv't,
Byron. 8, St. James Street, Sunday,
March 1st, 1812."
"Breakfasted with Mr. Cowell," writes Moore, in his Diary, June 11, 1828, "having made his acquaintance for the purpose of gaining information about Lord Byron. Knew Byron for the first time when he himself was a little boy, from being in the habit of playing with B.'s dogs. Byron wrote to him to school to bid him mind his prosody. Gave me two or three of his letters to him. Saw a good deal of B. at Hastings; mentioned the anecdote about the ink-bottle striking one of the lead Muses. These Muses had been brought from Holland; and there were, I think, only eight of them arrived safe. Fletcher had brought B. a large jar of ink, and, not thinking it was full, B. had thrust his pen down to the very bottom; his anger at finding it come out all besmeared with ink made him chuck the jar out of the window, when it knocked down one of the Muses in the garden, and deluged her with ink. In 1813, when B. was at Salt Hill, he had Cowell over from Eton, and pouched him no less than ten pounds. Cowell has ever since kept one of the notes. Told me a curious anecdote of Byron's mentioning to him, as if it had made a great impression on him, their seeing Shelley (as they thought) walking into a little wood at Lerici, when it was discovered afterwards that Shelley was at that time in quite another direction. 'This,' said Byron, in a sort of awe-struck voice, 'was about ten days before his death.' Cowell's imitation of his look and manner very striking. Thinks that in Byron's speech to Fletcher, when he was dying, threatening to appear to him, there was a touch of that humour and fun which he was accustomed to mix up with everything".(Memoirs, Journals, etc., vol. v. pp. 302, 303).
"Mahomet made the people believe that he would call a hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his prayers for the observers of his law. The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill to come to him, again and again; and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit abashed, but said, 'If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill.'"return
"praised the Annals of the Parish very highly, as also The Entail,... some scenes of which, he said, had affected him very much.(Lady Blessington's Conversations with Lord Byron, p. 74).'The characters in Mr. Galt's novels have an identity,' added Byron, 'that reminds me of Wilkie's pictures'"
"When I knew Galt, years ago," said Byron to Lady Blessington, I was not in a frame of mind to form an impartial opinion of him: his mildness and equanimity struck me even then; but, to say the truth, his manner had not deference enough for my then aristocratical taste, and finding I could not awe him into a respect sufficiently profound for my sublime self, either as a peer or an author, I felt a little grudge towards him that has now completely worn off," etc., etc.(ibid., p. 249).
"I have already read a review of Safie in the British Critic, and will undertake it in the Monthly if Griffiths, with whom I am in very bad odour from my late shameful idleness, will allow me. Oh that you would write a good smart critique of something to get both yourself and me in high repute at Turnham Green!!!!"In Byron's Detached Thoughts occurs the following passage:
"I have been a reviewer. In the Monthly Review I wrote some articles which were inserted. This was in the latter part of 1811. In 1807, in a Magazine called Monthly Literary Recreations, I reviewed Wordsworth's trash of that time.In the Bodleian Library is a copy of the Monthly Review, in which Griffiths has entered the initials of the authors of each article. Two articles from the Review, attributed to Byron on this authority, are given in Appendix I.
Excepting these, I cannot accuse myself of anonymous Criticism (that I recollect), though I have been offered more than one review in our principal Journals."
"There never was a maxim of greater wisdom than that uttered by the noble lord [Byron] who had so ably addressed their lordships that night for the first time"(Hansard, vol. xxi. p. 977). Moore quotes a passage from Byron's Detached Thoughts:
"Sheridan's liking for me (whether he was not mystifying me I do not know, but Lady Caroline Lamb and others told me that he said the same both before and after he knew me) was founded upon English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers. He told me that he did not care about poetry (or about mine—at least, any but that poem of mine), but he was sure, from that and other symptoms, I should make an orator, if I would but take to speaking, and grow a parliament man. He never ceased harping upon this to me to the last; and I remember my old tutor, Dr. Drury, had the same notion when I was a boy; but it never was my turn of inclination to try. I spoke once or twice, as all young peers do, as a kind of introduction into public life; but dissipation, shyness, haughty and reserved opinions, together with the short time I lived in England after my majority (only about five years in all), prevented me from resuming the experiment. As far as it went, it was not discouraging, particularly my first speech (I spoke three or four times in all); but just after it, my poem of Childe Harold was published, and nobody ever thought about my prose afterwards, nor indeed did I; it became to me a secondary and neglected object, though I sometimes wonder to myself if I should have succeeded."return to footnote mark
"Dear Sir,—In the report of my speech (which by the bye is given very incorrectly) in the M[orning] Herald, Day, and B[ritish] Press, they state that I mentioned Bristol, a place I never saw in my life and knew nothing of whatever, nor mentioned at all last night. Will you be good enough to send to these papers immediately, and have the mistake corrected, or I shall get into a scrape with the Bristol people?return
"I am, yours very truly,
"B."
"Forgiveness to the injured doth belong,"that I long for an opportunity to give the lie to the verse that follows. If I were not perfectly convinced that any thing I may have formerly uttered in the boyish rashness of my misplaced resentment had made as little impression as it deserved to make, I should hardly have the confidence—perhaps your Lordship may give it a stronger and more appropriate appellation—to send you a quarto of the same scribbler. But your Lordship, I am sorry to observe to-day, is troubled with the gout; if my book can produce a laugh against itself or the author, it will be of some service. If it can set you to sleep, the benefit will be yet greater; and as some facetious personage observed half a century ago, that "poetry is a mere drug,"3
"To Augusta, my dearest sister, and my best friend, who has ever loved me much better than I deserved, this volume is presented by her father's son, and most affectionate brother, B."The effect which the poem instantly produced is best expressed in Byron's own memorandum:
"I awoke one morning and found myself famous."He was only just twenty-three years old.
"The subject," says Elizabeth, Duchess of Devonshire (Two Duchesses, pp. 375, 376), "of conversation, of curiosity, of enthusiasm almost, one might say, of the moment is not Spain or Portugal, Warriors or Patriots, but Lord Byron!" "He returned," she continues, "sorry for the severity of some of his lines (in the English Bards), and with a new poem, Childe Harold, which he published. This poem is on every table, and himself courted, visited, flattered, and praised whenever he appears. He has a pale, sickly, but handsome countenance, a bad figure, and, in short, he is really the only topic almost of every conversation—the men jealous of him, the women of each other."Rogers (Recollections of the Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers, pp. 232, 233) says,
"Lord Byron," writes Lady Harriet Leveson Gower to the Duke of Devonshire, May 10, 1812 (Letters of Harriet, Countess Granville, vol. i. p. 34), "is still upon a pedestal, and Caroline William doing homage. I have made acquaintance with him. He is agreeable, but I feel no wish for any further intimacy. His countenance is fine when it is in repose; but the moment it is in play, suspicious, malignant, and consequently repulsive. His manner is either remarkably gracious and conciliatory, with a tinge of affectation, or irritable and impetuous, and then, I am afraid, perfectly natural."
"After Byron had become the rage, I was frequently amused at the manoeuvres of certain noble ladies to get acquainted with him by means of me; for instance, I would receive a note from Lady ——, requesting the pleasure of my company on a particular evening, with a postscript, 'Pray, could you not contrive to bring Lord Byron with you?' Once, at a great party given by Lady Jersey, Mrs. Sheridan ran up to me and said, 'Do, as a favour, try if you can place Lord Byron beside me at supper!'"
"Forgiveness to the injured does belong,Dryden's Conquest of Grenada, part ii. act i. sc. 2.
But they ne'er pardon, who have done the wrong."
"A wife's a drug now; mere tar-water, with every virtue under heaven, but nobody takes it."return
"Or hail at once the patron and the pileIn a note he had also referred to "Billy" Way's loss of several thousand pounds in the Rooms. On his return from abroad, Colonel Greville demanded satisfaction through his friend Gould Francis Leckie. Byron referred Leckie to Moore, and sent Moore the above paper for his guidance. The affair was amicably settled.
Of vice and folly, Greville and Argyle," etc.
"I have been called in as mediator, or second, at least twenty times, in violent quarrels, and have always contrived to settle the business without compromising the honour of the parties, or leading them to mortal consequences, and this, too, sometimes in very difficult and delicate circumstances, and having to deal with very hot and haughty spirits,—Irishmen, gamesters, guardsmen, captains, and cornets of horse, and the like. This was, of course, in my youth, when I lived in hot-headed company. I have had to carry challenges from gentlemen to noblemen, from captains to captains, from lawyers to counsellors, and once from a clergyman to an officer in the Life Guards; but I found the latter by far the most difficult:One challenge from a gentleman to a nobleman was that of Scrope Davies to Lord Foley, in 1813; but Byron succeeded in arranging the matter. That from a lawyer to a counsellor was in 1815, from John Hanson to Serjeant Best, afterwards Lord Wynford, and arose out of the marriage of Miss Hanson to Lord Portsmouth; this quarrel was also settled by Byron. The case of the clergyman was that of the Rev. Robert Bland, whose mistress, during his absence in Holland, left him for an officer in the Guards (see Letters, vol. i. p. 197, end of note [Footnote 1 of Letter 102] on Francis Hodgson). Byron was himself a fair shot with a pistol.'to composethe business being about a woman: I must add, too, that I never saw a woman behave so ill, like a cold-blooded, heartless b——as she was,—but very handsome for all that. A certain Susan C——was she called. I never saw her but once; and that was to induce her but to say two words (which in no degree compromised herself), and which would have had the effect of saving a priest or a lieutenant of cavalry. She would not say them, and neither Nepean nor myself (the son of Sir Evan Nepean, and a friend to one of the parties) could prevail upon her to say them, though both of us used to deal in some sort with womankind. At last I managed to quiet the combatants without her talisman, and, I believe, to her great disappointment: she was the damnedest b—— that I ever saw, and I have seen a great many. Though my clergyman was sure to lose either his life or his living, he was as warlike as the Bishop of Beauvais, and would hardly be pacified; but then he was in love, and that is a martial passion."
The bloody duel without blows,'
"When in London," writes Gronow (Reminiscences, vol. i. p. 152), "Byron used to go to Manton's shooting-gallery, in Davies Street, to try his hand, as he said, at a wafer. Wedderburn Webster was present when the poet, intensely delighted with his own skill, boasted to Joe Manton that he considered himself the best shot in London. 'No, my lord,' replied Manton, 'not the best; but your shooting to-day was respectable.' Whereupon Byron waxed wroth, and left the shop in a violent passion."return
"the veriest tyrant," said Byron, "that ever governed Fashion's fools, and compelled them to shake their caps and bells as she willed it."At Almack's, where, according to Gronow (Reminiscences, vol. i. p. 32), she introduced the quadrille after Waterloo, she was a despot. Almack's, the very clever and personal picture of fashionable life, published in 1826, is dedicated
"To that most Distinguished and Despotic Conclave, composed of their High Mightinesses the Ladies Patronesses of the Balls at Almack's, the Rulers of Fashion, the Arbiters of Taste, the Leaders of Ton, and the Makers of Manners, whose Sovereign sway over 'the world' of London has long been established on the firmest basis, whose Decrees are Laws, and from whose judgment there is no appeal."Over this "Willis Coalition Cabinet" Lady Jersey, as "Lady Hauton," is described as reigning supreme.
"She knew more than any person I ever met with, and both everything and everybody; she could quiz and she could flatter."Ticknor (Life, vol. i. p. 269) speaks of her as a "beautiful creature, with a great deal of talent, taste, and elegant knowledge." He was at Almack's, in 1819, and standing close to Lady Jersey, then at the height of beauty and brilliant talent, a leader in society, and with decided political opinions, when she refused the Duke of Wellington admittance. The lady patronesses had made a rule to admit no one after eleven o'clock. When the rule first came into operation, Ticknor heard one of the attendants announce that the Duke of Wellington was at the door.
"Treat people like fools," she is supposed to say, "and they will worship you; stoop to make up to them, and they will directly tread you underfoot."
"What o'clock is it?" Lady Jersey asked. "Seven minutes after eleven, your ladyship." She paused a moment, and then said, with emphasis and distinctness, Give my compliments,—give Lady Jersey's compliments to the Duke of Wellington, and say that she is very glad that the first enforcement of the rule of exclusion is such that hereafter no one can complain of its application. He cannot be admitted."(ibid., vol. i. pp. 296, 297).
"public business was much talked about—the corporation bill, the motion for admitting Dissenters to the universities, etc., etc.; and as to the last, when the question arose whether it would be debated on Tuesday night, it was admitted to be doubtful whether Lady Jersey would not succeed in getting it postponed, as she has a grand dinner that evening."(Life, vol. i. pp. 409, 410).
"stopped for a moment, and then, drawing himself up, marched past her with a look of the utmost disdain. Lady Jersey returned the look to the full; and, as soon as the Prince was gone, said to me, with a smile, 'Didn't I do it well?'"(Table Talk of Samuel Rogers, pp. 267, 268).
"Of all that coterie, Madame [de Stael], after Lady [Jersey], was the best; at least I thought so, for these two ladies were the only ones who ventured to protect me when all London was crying out against me on the separation, and they behaved courageously and kindly ... Poor dear Lady [Jersey]! Does she still retain her beautiful cream-coloured complexion and raven hair? I used to long to tell her that she spoiled her looks by her excessive animation; for eyes, tongue, head, and arms were all in movement at once, and were only relieved from their active service by want of respiration," etc., etc.return to footnote mark
"His little eyes like William's shine;The most ambitious effort in the volume is a poem, illustrated with pictures in water colours, such as L'Amour se cache sous le voile d'Amitié, or l'Innocence le recoit dans ses bras; a third, in the style of Blake, bears the inscription le Désespoir met fin à ses jours. The poem opens with the following lines:
How great is then my joy,
For, while I call this darling mine,
I see 'tis William's boy!"
"Winged with Hope and hushed with Joy,Dates are seldom affixed to the compositions, and it is impossible to say whether any are autobiographical. But, taken as a whole, they reveal a clever, romantic, impulsive, imaginative woman, whose pet names describe at once the charm of her character and the fascination of her small, slight figure, "golden hair, large hazel eyes," and low musical voice.
See yon wanton, blue-eyed Boy,—
Arch his smile, and keen his dart,—
Aim at Laura's youthful heart!
How could he his wiles disguise?
How deceive such watchful eyes?
How so pure a breast inspire,
Set so young a Mind on fire?
'Twas because to raise the flame
Love bethought of friendship's name.
Under this false guise he told her
That he lived but to behold her.
How could she his fault discover
When he often vowed to love her?
How could she her heart defend
When he took the name of friend?"
"I cannot fancy Lady Caroline married. I cannot be glad of it. How changed she must be—the delicate Ariel, the little Fairy Queen become a wife and soon perhaps a mother."Lady Elizabeth replies, September 30, 1805 (ibid., p. 242):
"You may retract all your sorrow about Caro Ponsonby's marriage, for she is the same wild, delicate, odd, delightful person, unlike everything."Lady Caroline and William Lamb are described by Lady Elizabeth, three months later, as "flirting all day long è felice adesso." The phrase, perhaps, correctly expresses Lady Caroline's conception of love as an episode; but no breach occurred till 1813. In the previous year, when Byron had suddenly risen to the height of his fame, she had refused to be introduced by Lady Westmorland to the man of whom she made the famous entry in her Diary "mad, bad, and dangerous to know." But they met, a few days later, at Holland House, and Byron called on her in Whitehall, where for the next four months he was a daily visitor. On blue-bordered paper, embossed at the corners with scallop-shells, she wrote to Byron at an early stage in their acquaintance, the letter numbered 1 in Appendix III.
Fletcher,—Will you come and see me here some evening at 9, and no one will know of it. You may say you bring a letter, and wait the answer. I will send for you in. But I will let you know first, for I wish to speak with you. I also want you to take the little Foreign Page I shall send in to see Lord Byron. Do not tell him before-hand, but, when he comes with flowers, shew him in. I shall not come myself, unless just before he goes away; so do not think it is me. Besides, you will see this is quite a child, only I wish him to see my Lord if you can contrive it, which, if you tell me what hour is most convenient, will be very easy. I go out of Town to-morrow for a day or two, and I am now quite well—at least much better."return
"I had a quarter of an hour's conversation, which, I own, gave me a great desire to know him better, and he seemed willing that I should do so."The second occasion was May 7, 1812.
"At the end of the evening I had half an hour's conversation with Lord Byron, principally on the subject of the Scotch Review, with which he is very much pleased. He is a singular man, and pleasant to me but I very much fear that his head begins to be turned by all the adoration of the world, especially the women"(Journal and Correspondence of Miss Berry, vol. ii. pp. 496, 497).
"was the most primitive hamlet ever met with—a dozen or so of cottages, no trade, no manufacture, no business doing that we could see; the owners were mostly servants of Sir Ralph Milbanke's."(Memoirs of a Highland Lady, p. 71). It was here that Blacket the poet (see Letters, vol. i. p. 314, note 2 [Footnote 2 of Letter 154]; p. 6, note 5, of the present volume; and English Bards, etc., line 770, and Byron's note) died, befriended by Miss Milbanke.
"There was something piquant and what we term pretty in Miss Milbanke. Her features were small and feminine, though not regular. She had the fairest skin imaginable. Her figure was perfect for her height; and there was a simplicity, a retired modesty, about her, which was very characteristic, and formed a happy contrast to the cold, artificial formality and studied stiffness which is called fashion."The roundness of her face suggested to Byron the pet name of "Pippin."
"Caro means to see la bella Annabelle before she writes to you ... I shall almost hate her if she is blind to the merits of one who would make her so happy"(The Two Duchesses, p. 358). Apparently Mr. Foster's love was not returned.
"She persists in saying," writes the duchess, May 4, 1812 (ibid., p. 362), "that she never suspected your attachment to her; but she is so odd a girl that, though she has for some time rather liked another, she has decidedly refused them, because she thinks she ought to marry a person with a good fortune; and this is partly, I believe, from generosity to her parents, and partly owning that fortune is an object to herself for happiness. In short, she is good, amiable, and sensible, but cold, prudent, and reflecting. Lord Byron makes up to her a little; but she don't seem to admire him except as a poet, nor he her except for a wife."Again, June 2, 1812, she says,
"Your Annabella is a mystery; liking, not liking; generous-minded, yet afraid of poverty; there is no making her out. I hope you don't make yourself unhappy about her; she is really an icicle."Miss Milbanke's unaffected simplicity attracted Byron; even her coldness was a charm. When he came to know her, he probably found her not only agreeable, but the best woman he had ever met. Lady Melbourne, who knew him most intimately, and was also Miss Milbanke's aunt, may well have thought that, if her niece once gained control over Byron, her influence would be the making of his character. She encouraged the match by every means in her power. It is unnecessary to suppose that she did so to save Lady Caroline Lamb; that danger was over. At some time before the autumn of 1812, Byron proposed to Miss Milbanke, and was refused. He still, however, continued to correspond with her, and his Journal shows that his affection for her was steadily growing during the years 1813-14. In September, 1814, he proposed a second time, and was accepted.
"I was the fashion when she first came out; I had the character of being a great rake, and was a great dandy—both of which young ladies like. She married me from vanity, and the hope of reforming and fixing me."Byron was not the man to unbosom himself to Medwin on such a subject. Moore asked the same question—whether Lady Byron really loved Byron—of Lady Holland, who
"seemed to think she must. He was such a loveable person. I remember him (said she) sitting there with that light upon him, looking so beautiful!'"(Journals, etc., vol. ii. p. 324). The letters that will follow seem to show beyond all question that the marriage was one of true affection on both sides.
"was accompanied on the occasion by his old schoolfellows, Mr. Bailey and Mr. John Madocks. They went together from some assembly, and, on their arriving at the spot, about three o'clock in the morning, not finding the house that was to receive them open, Mr. Madocks undertook to rouse the inmates, while Lord Byron and Mr. Bailey sauntered, arm in arm, up the street. During this interval, rather a painful scene occurred. Seeing an unfortunate woman lying on the steps of a door, Lord Byron, with some expression of compassion, offered her a few shillings; but, instead of accepting them, she violently pushed away his hand, and, starting up with a yell of laughter, began to mimic the lameness of his gait. He did not utter a word; but 'I could feel,' said Mr. Bailey, 'his arm trembling within mine, as we left her.' "In Byron's Detached Thoughts is an anecdote of Baillie, whose name is here misspelt by Moore:
"Baillie (commonly called 'Long' Baillie, a very clever man, but odd) complained in riding, to our friend Scrope Davies, that he had a stitch in his side. 'I don't wonder at it,' said Scrope, 'for you ride like a tailor.' Whoever has seen B. on horseback, with his very tall figure on a small nag, would not deny the justice of the repartee."return
"You know what ills the author's life assail,Do not renounce writing, but never trust entirely to authorship. If you have a possession, retain it; it will be, like Prior's fellowship3, a last and sure resource. Compare Mr. Rogers with other authors of the day; assuredly he is amongst the first of living poets, but is it to that he owes his station in society, and his intimacy in the best circles? No, it is to his prudence and respectability; the world (a bad one, I own) courts him because he has no occasion to court it. He is a poet, nor is he less so because he was something more. I am not sorry to hear that you are not tempted by the vicinity of Capel Loft, Esq're.4, though, if he had done for you what he has done for the Bloomfields, I should never have laughed at his rage for patronising. But a truly constituted mind will ever be independent. That you may be so is my sincere wish, and, if others think as well of your poetry as I do, you will have no cause to complain of your readers.
Toil, envy, want, the patron and the jail."2
"There mark what ills the scholar's life assail,—Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes, line 159.
Toil, envy, want, the patron and the jail."
"But, oh, the basest of defections!And again, in the "Parody of a Celebrated Letter":
His Letter about 'predilections'—
His own dear Letter, void of grace,
Now flew up in its parent's face! "
"I am proud to declare I have no predilections,return to footnote mark
My heart is a sieve, where some scatter'd affections
Are just danc'd about for a moment or two,
And the finer they are, the more sure to run through."
"Oh ye! who so lately were blythsome and gay,In the days of his prosperity (1799-1816), Brummell knew everybody to whose acquaintance he condescended. His Album, in which he collected 226 pieces of poetry, many by himself, others by celebrities of the day, is a curious proof of his popularity. It contains contributions from such persons as the Duchess of Devonshire, Erskine, Lord John Townshend, Sheridan, General Fitzpatrick, William Lamb (afterwards Lord Melbourne) and his brother George, and Byron. Lady Hester Stanhope (Memoirs, vol. i. pp. 280-283) knew him well. She describes him "riding in Bond Street, with his bridle between his fore-finger and thumb, as if he held a pinch of snuff;" gives many instances of his audacious effrontery, and yet concludes that "the man was no fool," and that she "should like to see him again."
At the Butterfly's banquet carousing away;
Your feasts and your revels of pleasure are fled,
For the soul of the banquet, the Butterfly's dead!
...
And here shall the daisy and violet blow,
And the lily discover her bosom of snow;
While under the leaf, in the evenings of spring,
Still mourning his friend, shall the grasshopper sing."
"that one evening, when Brummell and Lord Moira were engaged in earnest conversation at Carlton House, the prince requested the former to ring the bell, and that he replied without reflection, 'Your Royal Highness is close to it,' upon which the prince rang the bell and ordered his friend's carriage, but that Lord Moira's intervention caused the unintentional liberty to be overlooked."The rupture between them is attributed by Jesse to Mrs. Fitzherbert's influence. Whatever the cause, the prince cut his former friend. A short time afterwards, Brummell, walking with Lord Alvanley, met the prince leaning on the arm of Lord Moira. As the prince, who stopped to speak to Lord Alvanley, was moving on, Brummell said to his companion, "Alvanley, who's your fat friend?" In the Twopenny Postbag Moore makes the Regent say, in the "Parody of a Celebrated Letter":
"Neither have I resentments, or wish there should come illBrummell's position withstood the loss of the Regent's friendship. He became one of the most frequent visitors to the Duke and Duchess of York, at Oatlands Park (Journal of T. Raikes, vol. i. p. 146); and his friendship with the duchess lasted till her death.
To mortal—except, now I think on it, Beau Brummell,
Who threatened last year, in a superfine passion,
To cut me, and bring the old king into fashion."
"My Dear Scrope,—Lend me two hundred pounds; the banks are shut, and all my money is in the three per cents. It shall be repaid to-morrow morning.The reply illustrates Byron's remark that
Yours,
George Brummell.
"Scrope Davies is a wit, and a man of the world, and feels as much as such a character can do."On May 17,
"My Dear George,—'Tis very unfortunate, but all my money is in the three per cents.
Yours,
S. Davies.
"obliged," says Byron (Detached Thoughts), "by that affair of poor Meyler, who thence acquired the name of 'Dick the Dandykiller'—(it was about money and debt and all that)—to retire to France,"Brummell took flight to Dover, and crossed to Calais. Watier's Club died a natural death, in 1819, from the ruin of most of its members.
"what progress Brummell had made in French, he responded 'that Brummell had been stopped, like Buonaparte in Russia, by the Elements.' I have put this pun into Beppo, which is 'a fair exchange and no robbery;' for Scrope made his fortune at several dinners (as he owned himself) by repeating occasionally as his own some of the buffooneries with which I had encountered him in the morning."Brummell died, in 1840, at Caen, after making acquaintance with the inside of the debtor's prison in that town—imbecile, and in the asylum of the Bon Sauveur. He is buried in the Protestant cemetery of Caen. France has raised a more lasting monument to his fame in Barbey d'Aurevilly's Du Dandysme et de Georges Brummell (1845).
"With Spartan Pye lull England to repose,and again (ibid., lines 79, 80):
Or frighten children with Lenora's woes;"
"Why should I faint when all with patience hear,His birthday odes were so full of "vocal groves and feathered choirs," that George Steevens broke out with the lines:
And laureat Pye sings more than twice a year?"
"When the pie was opened," etc.Pye's magnum opus was Alfred (1801), an epic poem in six books.
"a little, square, pale, flat-faced, good-natured-looking, fussy man, with very intelligent eyes, yet great credulity of countenance, and still greater benevolence."Byron met Clarke at Cambridge in November, 1811, discussed Greece with him, and was relieved to find that he knew "no Romaic." Clarke was an indefatigable traveller, and, as he was a botanist, mineralogist, antiquary, and numismatist, he made good use of his opportunities. The marbles, including the Eleusinian Ceres, which he brought home, are in the Fitzwilliam Museum. His mineralogical collections were purchased, after his death, by the University of Cambridge; and his coins by Payne Knight. His Travels in Various Countries of Europe, Asia, and Africa appeared at intervals, from 1810 to 1823, in six quarto volumes. The following letter was written by Clarke to Byron, after the appearance of Childe Harold:
"Trumpington, Wednesday morning.return to footnote mark
Dear Lord Byron,—From the eagerness which I felt to make known my opinions of your poem before others had expressed any upon the subject, I waited upon you to deliver my hasty, although hearty, commendation. If it be worthy your acceptance, take it once more, in a more deliberate form! Upon my arrival in town I found that Mathias entirely coincided with me. 'Surely,' said I to him, 'Lord Byron, at this time of life, cannot have experienced such keen anguish as those exquisite allusions to what older men may have felt seem to denote!' This was his answer: 'I fear he has—he could not else have written such a poem.' This morning I read the second canto with all the attention it so highly merits, in the peace and stillness of my study; and I am ready to confess I was never so much affected by any poem, passionately fond of poetry as I have been from my earliest youth....
"The eighth stanza, 'Yet if as holiest men,' etc., has never been surpassed. In the twenty-third, the sentiment is at variance with Dryden:'Strange cozenage! none would live past years again.'And it is perhaps an instance wherein, for the first time, I found not within my own breast an echo to your thought, for I would not 'be once more a boy;' but the generality of men will agree with you, and wish to tread life's path again.
In the twelfth stanza of the same canto, you might really add a very curious note to these lines:'Her sons too weak the sacred shrine to guard,by stating this fact: When the last of the Metopes was taken from the Parthenon, and, in moving it, a great part of the superstructure with one of the triglyphs, was thrown down by the work men whom Lord Elgin employed, the Disdar, who beheld the mischief done to the building, took his pipe out of his mouth, dropped a tear, and, in a supplicating tone of voice, said to Lusieri—
Yet felt some portion of their mother's pains,'I was present at the time.
Once more I thank you for the gratification you have afforded me.
Believe me, ever yours most truly,
E. D. Clarke."
"But the Prince's great delight," says Murray, "was Walter Scott, whose name and writings he dwelt upon and recurred to incessantly. He preferred him far beyond any other poet of the time, repeated several passages with fervour, and criticized them faithfully.... Lord Byron called upon me, merely to let off the raptures of the Prince respecting you, thinking, as he said, that if I were likely to have occasion to write to you, it might not be ungrateful for you to hear of his praises."Scott's answer (July 2) enclosed the following letter from himself to Byron:
"Edinburgh, July 3d, 1812.To Scott Byron replied with the letter given in the text. Scott's answer, which followed in due course, will be found in Appendix V.
"My Lord,—I am uncertain if I ought to profit by the apology which is afforded me, by a very obliging communication from our acquaintance, John Murray, of Fleet Street, to give your Lordship the present trouble. But my intrusion concerns a large debt of gratitude due to your Lordship, and a much less important one of explanation, which I think I owe to myself, as I dislike standing low in the opinion of any person whose talents rank so highly in my own, as your Lordship's most deservedly do.
"The first count, as our technical language expresses it, relates to the high pleasure I have received from the Pilgrimage of Childe Harold, and from its precursors; the former, with all its classical associations, some of which are lost on so poor a scholar as I am, possesses the additional charm of vivid and animated description, mingled with original sentiment; but besides this debt, which I owe your Lordship in common with the rest of the reading public, I have to acknowledge my particular thanks for your having distinguished by praise, in the work which your Lordship rather dedicated in general to satire, some of my own literary attempts. And this leads me to put your Lordship right in the circumstances respecting the sale of Marmion, which had reached you in a distorted and misrepresented form, and which, perhaps, I have some reason to complain, were given to the public without more particular inquiry. The poem, my Lord, was not written upon contract for a sum of money—though it is too true that it was sold and published in a very unfinished state (which I have since regretted), to enable me to extricate myself from some engagements which fell suddenly upon me by the unexpected misfortunes of a very near relation. So that, to quote statute and precedent, I really come under the case cited by Juvenal, though not quite in the extremity of the classic author:'Esurit, intactam Paridi nisi vendit Agaven.'And so much for a mistake, into which your Lordship might easily fall, especially as I generally find it the easiest way of stopping sentimental compliments on the beauty, etc., of certain poetry, and the delights which the author must have taken in the composition, by assigning the readiest reason that will cut the discourse short, upon a subject where one must appear either conceited or affectedly rude and cynical.
"As for my attachment to literature, I sacrificed for the pleasure of pursuing it very fair chances of opulence and professional honours, at a time of life when I fully knew their value; and I am not ashamed to say, that in deriving advantages in compensation from the partial favour of the public, I have added some comforts and elegancies to a bare independence. I am sure your Lordship's good sense will easily put this unimportant egotism to the right account, for—though I do not know the motive would make me enter into controversy with a fair or an unfair literary critic—I may be well excused for a wish to clear my personal character from any tinge of mercenary or sordid feeling in the eyes of a contemporary of genius. Your Lordship will likewise permit me to add that you would have escaped the trouble of this explanation, had I not understood that the satire alluded to had been suppressed, not to be reprinted. For in removing a prejudice on your Lordship's own mind, I had no intention of making any appeal by or through you to the public, since my own habits of life have rendered my defence as to avarice or rapacity rather too easy.
"Leaving this foolish matter where it lies, I have to request your Lordship's acceptance of my best thanks for the flattering communication which you took the trouble to make Mr. Murray on my behalf, and which could not fail to give me the gratification which I am sure you intended. I dare say our worthy bibliopolist overcoloured his report of your Lordship's conversation with the Prince Regent, but I owe my thanks to him nevertheless, for the excuse he has given me for intruding these pages on your Lordship. Wishing you health, spirit, and perseverance, to continue your pilgrimage through the interesting countries which you have still to pass with Childe Harold, I have the honour to be, my Lord,
"Your Lordship's obedient servant,
"Walter Scott.
"P.S.—Will your Lordship permit me a verbal criticism on Childe Harold, were it only to show I have read his Pilgrimage with attention? Nuestra Dama de la Pena means, I suspect, not our Lady of Crime or Punishment, but our Lady of the Cliff; the difference is, I believe, merely in the accentuation of peña."
"At the time when Scott and Byron were the two lions of London, Hookham Frere observed, 'Great poets formerly (Homer and Milton) were blind; now they are lame'"(Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers, P. 194).
"There, too, he saw (whate'er he may be now)Dallas found him, shortly after his introduction to the prince, "in a full-dress court suit of clothes, with his fine black hair in powder," prepared to attend a levee. But the levee was put off, and the subsequent avowal of the authorship of the stanzas rendered it impossible for him to go (Recollections, p. 234).
A Prince, the prince of princes at the time,
With fascination in his very bow,
And full of promise, as the spring of prime.
Though royalty was written on his brow,
He had then the grace, too, rare in every clime,
Of being, without alloy of fop or beau,
A finish'd gentleman from top to toe."
"Your little friend, Caro William," writes the Duchess of Devonshire, May 4, 1812, "as usual, is doing all sorts of imprudent things for him and with him."Again she writes, six days later, of Byron:
"The ladies, I hear, spoil him, and the gentlemen are jealous of him. He is going back to Naxos, and then the husbands may sleep in peace. I should not be surprised if Caro William were to go with him, she is so wild and imprudent"(The Two Duchesses, pp. 362, 364). But Lady Caroline's extravagant adoration wearied Byron, who felt that it made him ridiculous; Lady Melbourne gave him sound advice about her daughter-in-law; and he was growing attached to Miss Milbanke, and, when rejected by her, at first to Lady Oxford, and later to Lady Frances Wedderburn Webster. When Lady Bessborough endeavoured to persuade her daughter to leave London for Ireland, Lady Caroline is said to have forced herself into Byron's room, and implored him to fly with her. Byron refused, conducted her back to Melbourne House, wrote her the letter printed above, and, as she herself admits, kept the secret. In December, 1812, Lady Caroline burned Byron in effigy, with "his book, ring, and chain," at Brocket Hall. The lines which she wrote for the ceremony are preserved in Mrs. Leigh's handwriting, and given in Appendix III, 2.
"Mortanville Priory, November the 9th.The first effect of this letter and her unrequited passion was, as she told Lady Morgan, to deprive her temporarily of reason, and it may be added that, when she was a child, her grandmother was so alarmed by her eccentricities as to consult a doctor on the state of her mind. The second effect was to render her temper so ungovernable that William Lamb decided on a separation. All preliminaries were arranged; the solicitor arrived with the documents; but the old charm reasserted itself, and she was found seated by her husband, "feeding him with tiny scraps of transparent bread and butter" (Torrens, Memoirs of Lord Melbourne, vol. i. p. 112). The separation did not take place till 1825.
"Lady Avondale,—I am no longer your lover; and since you oblige me to confess it, by this truly unfeminine persecution, ... learn, that I am attached to another; whose name it would, of course, be dishonourable to mention. I shall ever remember with gratitude the many instances I have received of the predilection you have shown in my favour. I shall ever continue your friend, if your ladyship will permit me so to style myself; and, as a first proof of my regard, I offer you this advice, correct your vanity, which is ridiculous; exert your absurd caprices upon others; and leave me in peace.
"Your most obedient servant,
"Glenarvon."
"I do not know," writes C. Lemon to Lady H. Frampton (Journal of Mary Frampton, pp. 286, 287), "all the characters in Glenarvon, but I will tell you all I do know. I am not surprised at your being struck with a few detached passages; but before you have read one volume, I think you will doubt at which end of the book you began. There is no connection between any two ideas in the book, and it seems to me to have been written as the sages of Laputa composed their works. 'Glenarvon' is Lord Byron; 'Lady Augusta,' the late Duchess of Devonshire; 'Lady Mandeville'—I think it is Lady Mandeville, but the lady who dictated Glearvon's farewell letter to Calantha—is Lady Oxford. This letter she really dictated to Lord Byron to send to Lady Caroline Lamb, and is now very much offended that she has treated the matter so lightly as to introduce it into her book. The best character in it is the 'Princess of Madagascar' (Lady Holland), with all her Reviewers about her. The young Duke of Devonshire is in the book, but I forget under what name. I need not say that the heroine is Lady Caroline's own self."In July, 1824, she was out riding, when she accidentally met Byron's funeral on its way to Newstead. "I am sure," she wrote to Murray, July 13, 1824, "I am very sorry I ever said one unkind word against him." Her mind never recovered the shock, and she died in January, 1828, in the presence of her husband, at Melbourne House. (See also Appendix III., 6.)
"To have kept his ground at the crisis when Rokeby appeared," he writes, "its author ought to have put forth his utmost strength, and to have possessed all his original advantages, for a mighty and unexpected rival was advancing on the stage—a rival not in poetical powers only, but in that art of attracting popularity, in which the present writer had hitherto preceded better men than himself. The reader will easily see that Byron is here meant, who, after a little velitation of no great promise, now appeared as a serious candidate, in the first two cantos of Childe Harold."On this rivalry Byron wrote the passage in his Diary for November 17, 1813. A further cause for the cold reception of Rokeby was its inferiority both to the Lay and to Marmion. In Letter vii. of the Twopenny Post-bag, Moore writes thus of Rokeby
"Should you feel any touch of poetical glow,return to footnote mark
We've a Scheme to suggest—Mr. Sc—tt, you must know,
(Who, we're sorry to say it, now works for the Row)
Having quitted the Borders, to seek new renown,
Is coming by long Quarto stages, to Town;
And beginning with Rokeby (the job's sure to pay)
Means to do all the Gentlemen's Seats on the way.
Now the Scheme is (though none of our hackneys can beat him)
To start a fresh Poet through Highgate to meet him;
Who, by means of quick proofs—no revises—long coaches—
May do a few Villas before Sc—tt approaches—
Indeed, if our Pegasus be not curst shabby,
He'll reach, without found'ring, at least Woburn Abbey."
| Diddler | O Sam, you haven't got such a thing as tenpence about you, have you? |
| Sam | Yes. And I mean to keep it about me, you see. |
| Diddler | Oh, aye, certainly. I only asked for information. |
"By the waters of Cheltenham I sat down and drank, when I remembered thee, oh Georgiana Cottage! As for our harps, we hanged them up upon the willows that grew thereby. Then they said, Sing us a song of Drury Lane," etc.;—but I am dumb and dreary as the Israelites. The waters have disordered me to my heart's content—you were right, as you always are.
"Rebuilding of Drury-Lane Theatre.Byron, on the suggestion of Lord Holland, intended to send in an Address in competition with other similar productions. He afterwards changed his mind, and refused to compete. After all the Addresses had been received and rejected, the Committee applied to him to write an Address. This he consented to do.
"The Committee are desirous of promoting a fair and free competition for an Address, to be spoken upon the opening of the Theatre, which will take place on the 10th of October next: They have therefore thought fit to announce to the Public, that they will be glad to receive any such Compositions, addressed to their Secretary at the Treasury Office in Drury Lane, on or before the 10th of September, sealed up, with a distinguishing word, number, or motto, on the cover, corresponding with the inscription, on a separate sealed paper, containing the name of the Author, which will not be opened, unless containing the name of the successful Candidate. Theatre Royal, Drury-Lane, August 13, 1812.
Owing to an accidental delay in the publication of the above Advertisement, the Committee have thought proper to extend the time for receiving Addresses, from the last day of August to the 10th of September."
"The public were more importantly employed, than to observe the easy simplicity of my style, or the harmony of my periods. Sheet after sheet was thrown off to oblivion. My essays were buried among the essays upon liberty, Eastern tales, and cures for the bite of a mad dog."Vicar of Wakefield, chap. xx.
"I climb'd the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn," etc., etc.The poem was occasioned, as Scott's note states, by the death of "a young gentleman of talents, and of a most amiable disposition," who was killed on the mountain in 1805.
This greeting o'er, the ancient rule obey'd,And do forgive all this trouble. See what it is to have to do even with the genteelest of us.
The drama's homage by her Herald paid,
Receive our welcome too, whose every tone
Springs from our hearts, and fain would win your own.
The curtain rises, etc., etc.
As flashing far the new Volcano shoneI think "thousands" less flat than "crowds collected"— but don't let me plunge into the bathos, or rise into Nat. Lee's Bedlam metaphors4.
And swept the skies with {lightnings}/{meteors} not their own,
While thousands throng'd around the burning dome,
Etc., etc.
As flash'd the volumed blaze, and {sadly}/{ghastly} shoneThe last runs smoothest, and, I think, best; but you know better than best. "Lurid" is also a less indistinct epithet than "livid wave," and, if you think so, a dash of the pen will do.
The skies with lightnings awful as their own.
"A key of fire ran all along the shore,return
And lightened all the river with a blaze;
The wakened tides began again to roar,
And wondering fish in shining waters gaze."
"Bidding in one grand pile this Town expire,return
Her towers in dust, her Thames a Lake of fire."
"When Greek join'd Greek then was the tug of war."He collaborated with Dryden in Œdipus (1679) and The Duke of Guise (1682). His numerous dramas were distinguished, in his own day, for extravagance and bombast. His mind failing, he was confined from 1684 to 1688 in Bethlehem Hospital, where he is said to have composed a tragedy in 25 acts.
"He is as envious as an old maid verging on the desperation of six and thirty; and then the insidious humility with which he seduces you to give a free opinion on any of his works can be exceeded only by the petulant arrogance with which he is sure to reject your observations."return
Ye who beheld—oh sight admired and mourn'd,because "night" is repeated the next line but one; and, as it now stands, the conclusion of the paragraph, "worthy him (Shakspeare) and you," appears to apply the "you" to those only who were out of bed and in Covent Garden market on the night of conflagration, instead of the audience or the discerning public at large, all of whom are intended to be comprised in that comprehensive and, I hope, comprehensible pronoun.
Whose radiance mock'd the ruin it adorn'd;
When Garrick died, and Brinsley ceased to write.Ceasing to live is a much more serious concern, and ought not to be first; therefore I will let the old couplet stand, with its half rhymes "sought" and "wrote."1
"Such are the names that here your plaudits sought,At present the couplet stands thus:
When Garrick acted, and when Brinsley wrote."
"Dear are the days that made our annals bright,return to footnote mark
Ere Garrick fled, or Brinsley ceased to write."
"I am almost ashamed," writes Lord Holland to Rogers, October 22, 1812 (Clayden's Rogers and his Contemporaries, vol. i. p. 115), "of having induced Lord Byron to write on so ungrateful a theme (ungrateful in all senses) as the opening of a theatre; he was so good-humoured, took so much pains, corrected so good-humouredly, and produced, as I thought and think, a prologue so superior to the common run of that sort of trumpery, that it is quite vexatious to see him attacked for it. Some part of it is a little too much laboured, and the whole too long; but surely it is good and poetical.... You cannot imagine how I grew to like Lord Byron in my critical intercourse with him, and how much I am convinced that your friendship and judgment have contributed to improve both his understanding and his happiness."return
"Immortal names emblazon'd on our line."return to footnote mark
As glared each rising flash1, and ghastly shoneAs to remarks, I can only say I will alter and acquiesce in any thing. With regard to the part which Whitbread2 wishes to omit, I believe the Address will go off quicker without it, though, like the agility of the Hottentot, at the expense of its vigour. I leave to your choice entirely the different specimens of stucco-work; and a brick of your own will also much improve my Babylonish turret. I should like Elliston to have it, with your leave. "Adorn" and "mourn" are lawful rhymes in Pope's Death of the Unfortunate Lady.—Gray has "forlorn" and "mourn"—and "torn" and "mourn" are in Smollett's famous Tears of Scotland3.
The skies with lightnings awful as their own.
"As glared the volumed blaze."return to footnote mark
"Mr. Whitbread was a more steady character; his appearance was heavy; he was fond of agriculture, and was very plain and simple in his tastes. Both were reckoned good debaters in the House, but Grey was the most eloquent."An independent Whig, and an advocate for peace with France, Whitbread supported Fox against Pitt throughout the Napoleonic War, strongly opposed its renewal after the return of the emperor from Elba, and interested himself in such measures as moderate Parliamentary reform, the amendment of the poor law, national education, and retrenchment of public expenditure. On April 8, 1805, he moved the resolutions which ended in the impeachment of Lord Melville, and took the lead in the inquiries, which were made, March, 1809, into the conduct of the Duke of York. He was a plain, business-like speaker, and a man of such unimpeachable integrity that Mr., afterwards Lord, Plunket, in a speech on the Roman Catholic claims, February 28, 1821, called him "the incorruptible sentinel of the constitution."
"I'm like Archimedes for science and skill;An active member of Parliament, a large landed proprietor, the manager of his immense brewery in Chiswell Street, Whitbread also found time to reduce to order the chaotic concerns of Drury Lane Theatre. He was, with Lord Holland and Harvey Combe, responsible for the request to Byron to write an address, having first rejected his own address with its "poulterer's description of the Phœnix." He was fond of private theatricals, and Dibdin (Reminiscences, vol. ii. pp. 383, 384) gives the play-bill of an entertainment given by him at Southill. In the first play, The Happy Return, he took the part of "Margery;" and in the second, Fatal Duplicity, that of "Eglantine," a very young lady, loved by "Sir Buntybart" and "Sir Brandywine." In his capacity as manager of Drury Lane, Whitbread is represented by the author of Accepted Addresses (1813) as addressing "the M—s of H—d"—
I'm like a young prince going straight up a hill;
I'm like—(with respect to the fair be it said)—
I'm like a young lady just bringing to bed.
If you ask why the 11th of June I remember
Much better than April, or May, or November,
On that day, my lords, with truth I assure ye,
My sainted progenitor set up his brewery;
On that day, in the morn, he began brewing beer;
On that day, too, commenced his connubial career;]
On that day he received and he issued his bills;
On that day he cleared out all the cash from his tills;
On that day he died, having finished his summing,
And the angels all cried, 'Here's old Whitbread a-coming!'
So that day still I hail with a smile and a sigh,
For his beer with an E, and his bier with an I;
And still on that day, in the hottest of weather,
The whole Whitbread family dine all together.—
So long as the beams of this house shall support
The roof which o'ershades this respectable Court,
Where Hastings was tried for oppressing the Hindoos;
So long as that sun shall shine in at those windows,
My name shall shine bright as my ancestor's shines,
Mine recorded in journals, his blazoned on signs!"
"My Lord,—Whitbread strongly supported the cause of the Princess of Wales. Miss Berry (Journal, vol. iii. p. 25) says that he dictated the letters which the Princess wrote to the Queen, who had desired that she should not attend the two drawing-rooms to be held in June, 1814. "They were good," she adds, "but too long, and sometimes marked by Whitbread's want of taste."
"As I now have the honour to be
By Man'ging a Playhouse a double M.P.,
In this my address I think fit to complain
Of certain encroachments on great Drury Lane," etc., etc.
"By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,(Pope.)
By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd."
"Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn,(Gray.)
Leave me unbless'd, unpitied, here to mourn."
"Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn(Smollett.)
Thy banish'd peace, thy laurels torn."
Till slowly ebb'd the {lava of the}/{spent volcanic} wave,If not, we will say "burning wave," and instead of "burning clime," in the line some couplets back, have "glowing."
And blackening ashes mark'd the Muse's grave.
Till ebb'd the lava of {the burning}/{that molten} wave3with "glowing dome," in case you prefer "burning" added to this "wave" metaphorical. The word "fiery pillar" was suggested by the "pillar of fire" in the book of Exodus, which went before the Israelites through the Red Sea. I once thought of saying "like Israel's pillar," and making it a simile, but I did not know,—the great temptation was leaving the epithet "fiery" for the supplementary wave. I want to work up that passage, as it is the only new ground us prologuizers can go upon:
This is the place where, if a poetIf I part with the possibility of a future conflagration, we lessen the compliment to Shakspeare. However, we will e'en mend it thus:
Shined in description, he might show it.
Yes, it shall be—the magic of that name,There—the deuce is in it, if that is not an improvement to Whitbread's content. Recollect, it is the "name," and not the "magic," that has a noble contempt for those same weapons. If it were the "magic," my metaphor would be somewhat of the maddest—so the "name" is the antecedent. But, my dear Lord, your patience is not quite so immortal—therefore, with many and sincere thanks, I am,
That scorns the scythe of Time, the torch of Flame,
On the same spot, etc., etc.
"Nay, lower still, the Drama yet deploresThe last couplet but one was altered in a subsequent copy, thus:
That late she deigned to crawl upon all-fours.
When Richard roars in Bosworth for a horse,
If you command, the steed must come in course.
If you decree, the Stage must condescend
To soothe the sickly taste we dare not mend.
Blame not our judgment should we acquiesce,
And gratify you more by showing less.
Oh, since your Fiat stamps the Drama's laws,
Forbear to mock us with misplaced applause;
That public praise be ne'er again disgraced,
From {brutes to man recall}/{babes and brutes redeem} a nation's taste;
Then pride shall doubly nerve the actor's powers,
When Reason's voice is echoed back by ours."
"The past reproach let present scenes refute,On February 18, 1811, at Covent Garden, a troop of horses were introduced in Bluebeard. For the manager, Juvenal's words, "Lucri bonus est odor ex re Qualibet" (Sat. xiv. 204) may have been true; but, as the dressing-room of the equine comedians was under the orchestra, the stench on the first night was to the audience intolerable. At the same theatre, April 29, 1811, the horses were again brought on the stage in Lewis's Timour the Tartar. At the same theatre, on the following December 26, a live elephant appeared. The novelty had, however, been anticipated in the Dublin Theatre during the season of 1771-72 (Genest's English Stage, vol. viii. p. 287). At the Haymarket, and Drury Lane, the introduction of live animals was ridiculed. The Quadrupeds of Quedlinburgh was given at the Haymarket, July 26, 1811, as a burlesque on Timour the Tartar and the horses. The Prologue, by Colman the Younger, attacks the passion for German plays and animal actors:
Nor shift from man to babe, from babe to brute."
"Your taste, recover'd half from foreign quacks,At the Lyceum, during the season 1811-12, Quadrupeds, or the Manager's Last Kick, in which the tailors were mounted on asses and mules, was given by the Drury Lane Company with success. It was this introduction of animal performers which Byron wished to attack.
Takes airings, now, on English horses' backs;
While every modern bard may raise his name,
If not on lasting praise, on stable fame."
"Then crush'd by rules, and weaken'd as refined,John Rich (circ. 1682-1761) was the creator of pantomime in England, which he introduced at Lincoln's Inn Fields in April, 1716, and in which, under the stage name of Lun, he played the part of Harlequin. At Lincoln's Inn Fields, January 29, 1728, he produced The Beggar's Opera, which, after being refused at Drury Lane, made "Gay rich, and Rich gay." "Great Faustus" probably alludes to the war between the two theatres, and the rival productions of Harlequin Dr. Faustus at Drury Lane in 1723, and of The Necromancer, or the History of Dr. Faustus at Lincoln's Inn Fields in December of the same year. On December 7, 1732, Rich opened the new theatre at Covent Garden, of which he remained manager till his death in 1761.
For years the power of Tragedy declined;
From bard to bard the frigid caution crept,
Till Declamation roared, whilst Passion slept.
Yet still did Virtue deign the stage to tread,
Philosophy remained though Nature fled.
But forced, at length, her ancient reign to quit,
She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of Wit;
Exulting Folly hailed the joyous Day,
And Pantomime and Song confirmed her sway.
But who the coming changes can presage,
And mark the future periods of the Stage?
Perhaps if skill could distant times explore,
New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store;
Perhaps, where Lear has raved, and Hamlet died,
On flying cars new sorcerers may ride;
Perhaps (for who can guess th' effects of chance?)
Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet may dance."
"Till blackening ashes and lonely wallreturn
Usurp'd the Muse's realm, and mark'd her fall."
"Ladies and gentlemen,—I know nothing I have done to offend you, and has set (sic) those who are sent here to hiss me; I will be very much obliged to you to turn them out."This unfortunate speech made matters worse; the audience refused to hear her, and her part was finished by Miss Searle.
"Child! Why, sir, when I was a very young actor in the York Company, that little creature kept an inn at Tadcaster, and had a large family"(Clark Russell's Representative Actors, p. 363, note 2). The Morning Post (April 5, 1806) says that Miss Mudie afterwards joined a children's troupe in Leicester Place, where,
"though deservedly discountenanced at a great theatre, she will, no doubt, prove an acquisition to the infant establishment"(Ashton's Dawn of the XIXth Century in England, pp. 333-336).
"In 1812 at Middelton (Lord Jersey's), amongst a goodly company of Lords, Ladies, and wits, etc., there was poor old Vice Leach, the lawyer, attempting to play off the fine gentleman. His first exhibition, an attempt on horseback, I think, to escort the women—God knows where—in the month of November, ended in a fit of the Lumbago—as Lord Ogleby says, 'a grievous enemy to Gallantry and address'—and if he could have but heard Lady Jersey quizzing him (as I did) next day for the cause of his malady, I don't think that he would have turned a 'Squire of dames' in a hurry again. He seemed to me the greatest fool (in that line) I ever saw. This was the last I saw of old Vice Leach, except in town, where he was creeping into assemblies, and trying to look young—and gentlemanly.return
Erskine too!—Erskine was there—good but intolerable. He jested, he talked, he did everything admirably, but then he would be applauded for the same thing twice over. He would read his own verses, his own paragraphs, and tell his own story again and again; and then 'the trial by Jury!!!'—I almost wished it abolished, for I sate next him at dinner, and, as I had read his published speeches, there was no occasion to repeat them to me. Chester (the fox-hunter), surnamed 'Cheek Chester,' and I sweated the Claret, being the only two who did so. Cheek, who loves his bottle, and had no notion of meeting with a 'bonvivant' in a scribbler, in making my eulogy to somebody one evening, summed it up in 'by G-d, he drinks like a Man!'"
"On Tuesday," he says, "I supped, after the opera, at Mrs. Meynel's with a set of the most fashionable company, which, take notice, I very seldom do now, as I certainly am not of the age to mix often with young people. Lady Melbourne was standing before the fire, and adjusting her feathers in the glass. Says she, 'Lord, they say the stocks will blow up! That will be very comical.'"Greville (Memoirs, ed. 1888, vol. vi. p. 248) associates her name with that of Lord Egremont. Reynolds painted her with her eldest son in his well-known picture Maternal Affection. Her second son, William, afterwards Prime Minister, used to say,
"Ah! my mother was a most remarkable woman; not merely clever and engaging, but the most sagacious woman I ever knew"(Memoirs of Viscount Melbourne, vol. i. p. 135). Lady Melbourne, whom Byron spoke of as
"the best, the kindest, and ablest female I have ever known, old or young,"died in 1818, her husband in 1828. He thus described her to Lady Blessington (Conversations, p. 225):
"Lady M., who might have been my mother, excited an interest in my feelings that few young women have been able to awaken. She was a charming person—a sort of modern Aspasia, uniting the energy of a man's mind with the delicacy and tenderness of a woman's. She wrote and spoke admirably, because she felt admirably. Envy, malice, hatred, or uncharitableness, found no place in her feelings. She had all of philosophy, save its moroseness, and all of nature, save its defects and general faiblesse; or if some portion of faiblesse attached to her, it only served to render her more forbearing to the errors of others. I have often thought, that, with a little more youth, Lady M. might have turned my head, at all events she often turned my heart, by bringing me back to mild feelings, when the demon passion was strong within me. Her mind and heart were as fresh as if only sixteen summers had flown over her, instead of four times that number."return
"Even now the autumnal charms of Lady —— are remembered by me with more than admiration. She resembled a landscape by Claude Lorraine, with a setting sun, her beauties enhanced by the knowledge that they were shedding their last dying beams, which threw a radiance around. A woman... is only grateful for her first and last conquest. The first of poor dear Lady ——'s was achieved before I entered on this world of care; but the last, I do flatter myself, was reserved for me, and a bonne bouche it was."The following passage certainly relates to Lady Oxford:
"There was a lady at that time," said Byron (Medwin's Conversations, pp. 93, 94), "double my own age, the mother of several children who were perfect angels, with whom I had formed a liaison that continued without interruption for eight months. The autumn of a beauty like her's is preferable to the spring in others. She told me she was never in love till she was thirty; and I thought myself so with her when she was forty. I never felt a stronger passion; which she returned with equal ardour.... She had been sacrificed, almost before she was a woman, to one whose mind and body were equally contemptible in the scale of creation; and on whom she bestowed a numerous family, to which the law gave him the right to be called father. Strange as it may seem, she gained (as all women do) an influence over me so strong, that I had great difficulty in breaking with her, even when I knew she had been inconstant to me: and once was on the point of going abroad with her, and narrowly escaped this folly."To be near the Oxfords at Eywood, in Herefordshire, Byron took Kinsham Court, a dower-house of the family, where Bishop Harley died in 1788. At one time, as is evident from his correspondence with Hanson, he was bent on going abroad with Lady Oxford. In the end he only accompanied her to Portsmouth. Of Lady Oxford, Uvedale Price wrote thus to Rogers (Clayden, Rogers and his Contemporaries, vol. i. pp. 397, 398):
"This is a melancholy subject"—[the death, by consumption of Lord Aberdeen's children]—"and I must go to another. Poor Lady Oxford! I had heard with great concern of her dangerous illness, but hoped she might get through it, and was much, very much grieved to hear that it had ended fatally. I had, as you know, lived a great deal with her from the time she came into this country, immediately after her marriage; but for some years past, since she went abroad, had scarcely had any correspondence or intercourse with her, till I met her in town last spring. I then saw her twice, and both times she seemed so overjoyed to see an old friend, and expressed her joy so naturally and cordially, that I felt no less overjoyed at seeing her after so long an absence. She talked, with great satisfaction, of our meeting for a longer time this next spring, little thinking of an eternal separation. There could not, in all respects, be a more ill-matched pair than herself and Lord Oxford, or a stronger instance of the cruel sports of Venus, or, rather, of Hymen:return'Cui placet imparesIt has been said that she was, in some measure, forced into the match. Had she been united to a man whom she had loved, esteemed, and respected, she herself might have been generally respected and esteemed, as well as loved; but in her situation, to keep clear of all misconduct required a strong mind or a cold heart; perhaps both, and she had neither. Her failings were in no small degree the effect of circumstances; her amiable qualities all her own. There was something about her, in spite of her errors, remarkably attaching, and that something was not merely her beauty. 'Kindness has resistless charms,' and she was full of affectionate kindness to those she loved, whether as friends or as lovers. As a friend, I always found her the same, never at all changeful or capricious. As I am not a very rigid moralist, and am extremely open to kindness, 'I could have better spared a better woman.'"
Formas atque animos sub juga ahenea
Sævo mittere cum joco.'
"of one peer and two commoners, one poet and two prosers, one Lord and two Brewers; and the only points in which they coincided were in being all three parliament men, all three politicians, all three in opposition to the Government of the country. Their names, as we understand, were Vassal Holland, Samuel Whitbread, and Harvey Christian Combe."return
Far be from him that hour which asks in vainor,
Tears such as flow for Garrick in his strain;
Far be that hour that vainly asks in turn
Such verse for him as {crown'd his/wept o'er} Garrick's urn.
"If you think the picture you saw at Murray's worth your acceptance, it is yours; and you may put a glove or mask on it, if you like"(Moore).
"It is with unaffected satisfaction we find that he has improved wonderfully, and that he is a poet. Indeed, when we consider the comparatively short interval which has elapsed, and contrast the character of his recent with that of his early work, we confess ourselves astonished at the intellectual progress which Lord Byron has made, and are happy to hold him up as another example of the extraordinary effects of study and cultivation, even on minds apparently of the most unpromising description."The reviewer severely condemns the morbid bitterness of the poet's thought and feeling, but yet affirms that the poems
"abound with beautiful imagery, clothed in a diction free, forcible, and various. Childe Harold, although avowedly a fragment, contains many fragments which would do honour to any poet, of any period, in any country."return
"Mr. Elliston then came forward and delivered the following Prize Address. We cannot boast of the eloquence of the delivery. It was neither gracefully nor correctly recited. The merits of the production itself we submit to the criticism of our readers. We cannot suppose that it was selected as the most poetical composition of all the scores that were submitted to the Committee. But, perhaps by its tenor, by its allusions to the fire, to Garrick, to Siddons, and to Sheridan, it was thought most applicable to the occasion, notwithstanding its being in parts unmusical, and in general tame."Again (October 14), in a notice of Rejected Addresses, the Morning Chronicle returns to the subject:
"A wag has already published a small volume of Addresses rejected, in which, with admirable wit, all the poets of the day are assembled, contesting for the Prize Address at Drury Lane. And certainly he has assigned to the pen of Lord B. a superior poem to that which has gained the prize."The Address was also severely handled in A Critique on the Address written by Lord Byron, which was Spoken at the opening of the New Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, October 10, 1812. By Lord—— (London, no date). The author is "astonished at the glaring faults and general insipidity" of the address, and, after a detailed criticism, concludes that "public indignation" will sympathize with the rejected poets, and "pursue the rival patrons and the rival bard."
"Poor Byron! what I hear and read of his prologue makes me very angry. Of such value is public favour! So a man is to be tried by a copy of verses thrown off perhaps at hazard, and invitâ Minervâ!"return to footnote mark
"When Mr. France was here," writes Mrs. Byron to Hanson, July 13, 1811 (Kölbing's Englische Studien, vol. xxv. p. I53), "he told me there had been an injunction procured to prevent Deardin from working the Coal Pits that was in dispute between Lord Byron and him, but since France was here, there has been a Man from Lancashire who says they are worked by Deardin the same as ever. I also heard that the Person you sent down to take an account of the Coals was bribed by Deardin, and did not give an account of half of what was got."return to footnote mark
"Lord Byron, to the best of his knowledge and recollection, in Dec., 1805-January, 1806 applied to King, in consequence of an advertisement in the papers, who acquainted Lord Byron that his minority prevented all money transactions without the security of competent persons. Through Mr. K. he became acquainted with Mr. Dellevelly, another of the tribe of Israel, and subsequently with a Mr. Howard of Golden Square.Two other Annuities were effected, in both of which Mrs. Massingberd figured as a security, and in one the manager of Dorant's Hotel. It was the interest on these minority loans which crippled Byron. Two were still unpaid in 1817.
"After many delays, during which Lord B. had interviews with Howard, once, he thinks, in Golden Square, but more frequently in Piccadilly, Mrs. M[assingberd] agreed to become security jointly with her daughter. Lord B. knows Howard's person perfectly well, has not seen him subsequent to the transaction, but recollects Howard's mentioning to him that he, Lord B., was acting imprudently, stating that he made it a rule to advise young men against such proceedings. Lord B. recollects, on the day on which the money was paid, that he remained in the next room till the papers were signed, Mrs. M[assingberd] having stated that the parties wished him to be kept out of sight during the business, and wished to avoid even mentioning his name. Mrs. M[assingberd] deducted the interest for two years and a half, and £100 for Howard's papers."
Mortal ('twas thus she spake), etc.Of course, the moment the Satire begins, there you will stop, and the opening is the best part.
"Lord Byron.The same day Byron writes a second letter to Hanson:
A Bill for £1500, drawn by Scrope B. Davies, lies due at Sir James Esdaile and Co's., No. 21, Lombard-Street.
All Drafts intended for the Payment of Bills, to be brought before Half past Three o'Clock.
Please to call between 3 and Five o'Clock."
"Do pray press Claughton, as Mr. D.'s business must be settled at all events. I send you his letter, and I am more uncomfortable than I can possibly express myself upon the subject. Pray write."return to footnote mark
"Dear Sir,—I have to request that you will pay the bearer (my Groom) the wages due to him (12 pds. 10s.), and dismiss him immediately, as I have given up my horses, and place the sum to my account.Four days later, December 14, 1812, he writes again to Hanson—
Ever yours,
Byron."
"Dear Sir,—I request your attention to the enclosed. See what can be done with Howard, and urge Claughton. If this kind of thing continues, I must quit a country which my debts render uninhabitable, notwithstanding every sacrifice on my part.return to footnote mark
Yours ever,
B."
"Byron often talks of the authors of the Rejected Addresses, and always in terms of unqualified praise. He says that the imitations, unlike all other imitations, are full of genius. 'Parodies,' he said, 'always give a bad impression of the original, but in the Rejected Addresses the reverse was the fact;' and he quoted the second and third stanzas, in imitation of himself, as admirable, and just what he could have wished to write on a similar subject"(Lady Blessington's Conversations, p. 134).
"The Bessboroughs," writes Lady H. Leveson Gower to Lady G. Morpeth, September 12, 1812 (Letters of Harriet, Countess Granville, vol. i. pp. 40, 41), "have been unpacked about a couple of hours. My aunt looks stout and well, but poor Caroline most terribly the contrary. She is worn to the bone, as pale as death and her eyes starting out of her head. She seems indeed in a sad way, alternately in tearing spirits and in tears. I hate her character, her feelings, and herself when I am away from her, but she interests me when I am with her, and to see her poor careworn face is dismal, in spite of reason and speculation upon her extraordinary conduct. She appears to me in a state very (little) short of insanity, and my aunt describes it as at times having been decidedly so."return
"a dialogue matrimonial, which passed between Jonathan Wild, Esquire, and Laetitia his wife" (née Laetitia Snap), "Laetitia asks, 'But pray, Mr. Wild, why b—ch? Why did you suffer such a word to escape you?'"return
