"P.S. I never heard the 'report' you mention, nor, I dare say, many others. But, in course, you, as well as others, have 'd.a.m.ned good-natured friends,' who do their duty in the usual way. One thing will make you laugh. * * * *"

[Footnote 20: In a.s.serting that he devoted but four days to the composition of The Bride, he must be understood to refer only to the first sketch of that poem,--the successive additions by which it was increased to its present length having occupied, as we have seen, a much longer period. The Corsair, on the contrary, was, from beginning to end, struck off at a heat--there being but little alteration or addition afterwards,--and the rapidity with which it was produced (being at the rate of nearly two hundred lines a day) would be altogether incredible, had we not his own, as well as his publisher's, testimony to the fact.

Such an achievement,--taking into account the surpa.s.sing beauty of the work,--is, perhaps, wholly without a parallel in the history of Genius, and shows that 'ecrire _par pa.s.sion_,' as Rousseau expresses it, may be sometimes a shorter road to perfection than any that Art has ever struck out.]

LETTER 171. TO MR. MOORE.

"March 12. 1814.

"Guess darkly, and you will seldom err. At present, I shall say no more, and, perhaps--but no matter. I hope we shall some day meet, and whatever years may precede or succeed it, I shall mark it with the 'white stone' in my calendar. I am not sure that I shall not soon be in your neighbourhood again. If so, and I am alone (as will probably be the case), I shall invade and carry you off, and endeavour to atone for sorry fare by a sincere welcome. I don't know the person absent (barring 'the sect') I should be so glad to see again.

"I have nothing of the sort you mention but _the lines_ (the Weepers), if you like to have them in the Bag. I wish to give them all possible circulation. The _Vault_ reflection is downright actionable, and to print it would be peril to the publisher; but I think the Tears have a natural right to be bagged, and the editor (whoever he may be) might supply a facetious note or not, as he pleased.

"I cannot conceive how the _Vault_[21] has got about,--but so it is. It is too _farouche_; but, truth to say, my satires are not very playful. I have the plan of an epistle in my head, _at_ him and _to_ him; and, if they are not a little quieter, I shall embody it. I should say little or nothing of _myself_. As to mirth and ridicule, that is out of my way; but I have a tolerable fund of sternness and contempt, and, with Juvenal before me, I shall perhaps read him a lecture he has not lately heard in the C----t.

From particular circ.u.mstances, which came to my knowledge almost by accident, I could 'tell him what he is--I know him well.'

"I meant, my dear M., to write to you a long letter, but I am hurried, and time clips my inclination down to yours, &c.

"P.S. _Think again_ before you _shelf_ your poem. There is a youngster, (older than me, by the by, but a younger poet,) Mr. G.

Knight, with a vol. of Eastern Tales, written since his return,--for he has been in the countries. He sent to me last summer, and I advised him to write one in _each measure_, without any intention, at that time, of doing the same thing. Since that, from a habit of writing in a fever, I have antic.i.p.ated him in the variety of measures, but quite unintentionally. Of the stories, I know nothing, not having seen them[22]; but he has some lady in a sack, too, like The Giaour:--he told me at the time.

"The best way to make the public 'forget' me is to remind them of yourself. You cannot suppose that _I_ would ask you or advise you to publish, if I thought you would _fail_. I really have _no_ literary envy; and I do not believe a friend's success ever sat nearer another than yours do to my best wishes. It is for _elderly gentlemen_ to 'bear no brother near,' and cannot become our disease for more years than we may perhaps number. I wish you to be out before Eastern subjects are again before the public."

[Footnote 21: Those bitter and powerful lines which he wrote on the opening of the vault that contained the remains of Henry VIII. and Charles I.]

[Footnote 22: He was not yet aware, it appears, that the anonymous ma.n.u.script sent to him by his publisher was from the pen of Mr. Knight.]

LETTER 172. TO MR. MURRAY.

"March 12. 1814.

"I have not time to read the whole MS. [23], but what I have seen seems very well written (both _prose_ and _verse_), and, though I am and can be no judge (at least a fair one on this subject), containing nothing which you _ought_ to hesitate publishing upon _my_ account. If the author is not Dr. _Busby_ himself, I think it a pity, on his _own_ account, that he should dedicate it to his subscribers; nor can I perceive what Dr. Busby has to do with the matter except as a translator of Lucretius, for whose doctrines he is surely not responsible. I tell you openly, and really most sincerely, that, if published at all, there is no earthly reason why you should _not_; on the contrary, I should receive it as the greatest compliment _you_ could pay to your good opinion of my candour, to print and circulate that or any other work, attacking me in a manly manner, and without any malicious intention, from which, as far as I have seen, I must exonerate this writer.

"He is wrong in one thing--_I_ am no _atheist_; but if he thinks I have published principles tending to such opinions, he has a perfect right to controvert them. Pray publish it; I shall never forgive myself if I think that I have prevented you.

"Make my compliments to the author, and tell him I wish him success: his verse is very deserving of it; and I shall be the last person to suspect his motives. Yours, &c.

"P.S. If _you_ do not publish it, some one else will. You cannot suppose me so narrow-minded as to shrink from discussion. I repeat once for all, that I think it a good poem (as far as I have redde); and that is the only point _you_ should consider. How odd that eight lines should have given birth, I really think, to _eight thousand_, including _all_ that has been said, and will be on the subject!"

[Footnote 23: The ma.n.u.script of a long grave satire, ent.i.tled "Anti-Byron," which had been sent to Mr. Murray, and by him forwarded to Lord Byron, with a _request_--not meant, I believe, seriously--that he would give his opinion as to the propriety of publishing it.]

LETTER 173. TO MR. MURRAY.

"April 9. 1814.

"All these news are very fine; but nevertheless I want my books, if you can find, or cause them to be found for me,--if only to lend them to Napoleon, in "the Island of Elba," during his retirement. I also (if convenient, and you have no party with you,) should be glad to speak with you, for a few minutes, this evening, as I have had a letter from Mr. Moore, and wish to ask you, as the best judge, of the best time for him to publish the work he has composed. I need not say, that I have his success much at heart; not only because he is my friend, but something much better--a man of great talent, of which he is less sensible than I believe any even of his enemies. If you can so far oblige me as to step down, do so; and if you are otherwise occupied, say nothing about it. I shall find you at home in the course of next week.

"P.S. I see Sotheby's Tragedies advertised. The Death of Darnley is a famous subject--one of the best, I should think, for the drama.

Pray let me have a copy when ready.

"Mrs. Leigh was very much pleased with her books, and desired me to thank you; she means, I believe, to write to you her acknowledgments."

LETTER 174. TO MR. MOORE.

"2. Albany, April 9. 1814.

"Viscount Althorp is about to be married, and I have gotten his s.p.a.cious bachelor apartments in Albany, to which you will, I hope, address a speedy answer to this mine epistle.

"I am but just returned to town, from which you may infer that I have been out of it; and I have been boxing, for exercise, with Jackson for this last month daily. I have also been drinking, and, on one occasion, with three other friends at the Cocoa Tree, from six till four, yea, unto five in the matin. We clareted and champagned till two--then supped, and finished with a kind of regency punch composed of madeira, brandy, and _green_ tea, no _real_ water being admitted therein. There was a night for you!

without once quitting the table, except to ambulate home, which I did alone, and in utter contempt of a hackney-coach and my own _vis_, both of which were deemed necessary for our conveyance. And so,--I am very well, and they say it will hurt my const.i.tution.

"I have also, more or less, been breaking a few of the favourite commandments; but I mean to pull up and marry, if any one will have me. In the mean time, the other day I nearly killed myself with a collar of brawn, which I swallowed for supper, and _in_digested for I don't know how long: but that is by the by. All this gourmandise was in honour of Lent; for I am forbidden meat all the rest of the year, but it is strictly enjoined me during your solemn fast. I have been, and am, in very tolerable love; but of that hereafter as it may be.

"My dear Moore, say what you will in your preface; and quiz any thing or any body,--me if you like it. Oons! dost thou think me of the _old_, or rather _elderly_, school? If one can't jest with one's friends, with whom can we be facetious? You have nothing to fear from * *, whom I have not seen, being out of town when he called. He will be very correct, smooth, and all that, but I doubt whether there will be any 'grace beyond the reach of art;'--and, whether there is or not, how long will you be so d----d modest? As for Jeffrey, it is a very handsome thing of him to speak well of an old antagonist,--and what a mean mind dared not do. Any one will revoke praise; but--were it not partly my own case--I should say that very few have strength of mind to unsay their censure, or follow it up with praise of other things.

"What think you of the review of _Levis_? It beats the Bag and my hand-grenade hollow, as an invective, and hath thrown the Court into hysterics, as I hear from very good authority. Have you heard from * * *?

"No more rhyme for--or rather, _from_--me. I have taken my leave of that stage, and henceforth will mountebank it no longer. I have had my day, and there's an end. The utmost I expect, or even wish, is to have it said in the Biographia Britannica, that I might perhaps have been a poet, had I gone on and amended. My great comfort is, that the temporary celebrity I have wrung from the world has been in the very teeth of all opinions and prejudices. I have flattered no ruling powers; I have never concealed a single thought that tempted me. They can't say I have truckled to the times, nor to popular topics, (as Johnson, or somebody, said of Cleveland,) and whatever I have gained has been at the expenditure of as much _personal_ favour as possible; for I do believe never was a bard more unpopular, _quoad h.o.m.o_, than myself. And now I have done;--'ludite nunc alios.' Every body may be d----d, as they seem fond of it, and resolve to stickle l.u.s.tily for endless brimstone.

"Oh--by the by, I had nearly forgot. There is a long poem, an 'Anti-Byron,' coming out, to prove that I have formed a conspiracy to overthrow, by _rhyme_, all religion and government, and have already made great progress! It is not very scurrilous, but serious and ethereal. I never felt myself important, till I saw and heard of my being such a little Voltaire as to induce such a production.

Murray would not publish it, for which he was a fool, and so I told him; but some one else will, doubtless. 'Something too much of this.'

"Your French scheme is good, but let it be _Italian_; all the Angles will be at Paris. Let it be Rome, Milan, Naples, Florence, Turin, Venice, or Switzerland, and 'egad!' (as Bayes saith,) I will connubiate and join you; and we will write a new 'Inferno' in our Paradise. Pray think of this--and I will really buy a wife and a ring, and say the ceremony, and settle near you in a summer-house upon the Arno, or the Po, or the Adriatic.

"Ah! my poor little paG.o.d, Napoleon, has walked off his pedestal.

He has abdicated, they say. This would draw molten bra.s.s from the eyes of Zatanai. What! 'kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, and then be baited by the rabble's curse!' I cannot bear such a crouching catastrophe. I must stick to Sylla, for my modern favourites don't do,--their resignations are of a different kind.

All health and prosperity, my dear Moore. Excuse this lengthy letter. Ever, &c.

"P.S. The Quarterly quotes you frequently in an article on America; and every body I know asks perpetually after you and yours. When will you answer them in person?"

He did not long persevere in his resolution against writing, as will be seen from the following notes to his publisher.

TO MR. MURRAY.

"April 10. 1814.

"I have written an Ode on the fall of Napoleon, which, if you like, I will copy out, and make you a present of. Mr. Merivale has seen part of it, and likes it. You may show it to Mr. Gifford, and print it, or not, as you please--it is of no consequence. It contains nothing in _his_ favour, and no allusion whatever to our own government or the Bourbons. Yours, &c.

"P.S. It is in the measure of my stanzas at the end of Childe Harold, which were much liked, beginning 'And thou art dead,' &c.

&c. There are ten stanzas of it--ninety lines in all."