"February 22. 1815.

"Yesterday I sent off the packet and letter to Edinburgh. It consisted of forty-one pages, so that I have not added a line; but in my letter, I mentioned what pa.s.sed between you and me in autumn, as my inducement for presuming to trouble him either with my own or * *'s lucubrations. I am any thing but sure that it will do; but I have told J. that if there is any decent raw material in it, he may cut it into what shape he pleases, and warp it to his liking.

"So you _won't_ go abroad, then, with _me_,--but alone. I fully purpose starting much about the time you mention, and alone, too.

"I hope J. won't think me very impudent in sending * * only: there was not room for a syllable. I have avowed * * as the author, and said that you thought or said, when I met you last, that he (J.) would not be angry at the coalition, (though, alas! we have not coalesced,) and so, if I have got into a sc.r.a.pe, I must get out of it--Heaven knows how.

"Your Anacreon[70] is come, and with it I sealed (its first impression) the packet and epistle to our patron.

"Curse the Melodies and the Tribes, to boot,[71] Braham is to a.s.sist--or hath a.s.sisted--but will do no more good than a second physician. I merely interfered to oblige a whim of K.'s, and all I have got by it was 'a speech' and a receipt for stewed oysters.

"'Not meet'--pray don't say so. We must meet somewhere or somehow.

Newstead is out of the question, being nearly sold again, or, if not, it is uninhabitable for my spouse. Pray write again. I will soon.

"P.S. Pray when do you come out? ever, or never? I hope I have made no blunder; but I certainly think you said to me, (after W * * th, whom I first pondered upon, was given up,) that * * and I might attempt * * * *. His length alone prevented me from trying my part, though I should have been less severe upon the Reviewee.

"Your seal is the best and prettiest of my set, and I thank you very much therefor. I have just been--or rather, ought to be--very much shocked by the death of the Duke of Dorset. We were at school together, and there I was pa.s.sionately attached to him. Since, we have never met--but once, I think, since 1805--and it would be a paltry affectation to pretend that I had any feeling for him worth the name. But there was a time in my life when this event would have broken my heart; and all I can say for it now is that--it is not worth breaking.

"Adieu--it is all a farce."

[Footnote 70: A seal, with the head of Anacreon, which I had given him.]

[Footnote 71: I had taken the liberty of laughing a little at the manner in which some of his Hebrew Melodies had been set to music.]

LETTER 216. TO MR. MOORE.

"March 2. 1815.

"My dear Thom,

"Jeffrey has sent me the most friendly of all possible letters, and has accepted * *'s article. He says he has long liked not only, &c.

&c. but my 'character.' This must be _your_ doing, you dog--ar'nt you ashamed of yourself, knowing me so well? This is what one gets for having you for a father confessor.

"I feel merry enough to send you a sad song.[72] You once asked me for some words which you would set. Now you may set or not, as you like,--but there they are, in a legible hand[73], and not in mine, but of my own scribbling; so you may say of them what you please.

Why don't you write to me? I shall make you 'a speech'[74] if you don't respond quickly.

"I am in such a state of sameness and stagnation, and so totally occupied in consuming the fruits--and sauntering--and playing dull games at cards--and yawning--and trying to read old Annual Registers and the daily papers--and gathering sh.e.l.ls on the sh.o.r.e--and watching the growth of stunted gooseberry bushes in the garden--that I have neither time nor sense to say more than yours ever, B.

"P.S. I open my letter again to put a question to you. What would Lady C----k, or any other fashionable Pidc.o.c.k, give to collect you and Jeffrey and me to _one_ party? I have been answering his letter, which suggested this dainty query. I can't help laughing at the thoughts of your face and mine; and our anxiety to keep the Aristarch in good humour during the _early_ part of a compotation, till we got drunk enough to make him 'a speech.' I think the critic would have much the best of us--of one, at least--for I don't think diffidence (I mean social) is a disease of yours."

[Footnote 72: The verses enclosed were those melancholy ones, now printed in his works, "There's not a joy the world can give like those it takes away."]

[Footnote 73: The MS. was in the handwriting of Lady Byron.]

[Footnote 74: These allusions to "a speech" are connected with a little incident, not worth mentioning, which had amused us both when I was in town. He was rather fond (and had been always so, as may be seen in his early letters,) of thus harping on some conventional phrase or joke.]

LETTER 217. TO MR. MOORE.

"March 8. 1815.

"An event--the death of poor Dorset--and the recollection of what I once felt, and ought to have felt now, but could not--set me pondering, and finally into the train of thought which you have in your hands. I am very glad you like them, for I flatter myself they will pa.s.s as an imitation of your style. If I could imitate it well, I should have no great ambition of originality--I wish I could make you exclaim with Dennis, 'That's my thunder, by G----d!'

I wrote them with a view to your setting them, and as a present to Power, if he would accept the words, and _you_ did not think yourself degraded, for once in a way, by marrying them to music.

"Sun-burn N * *!--why do you always twit me with his vile Ebrew nasalities? Have I not told you it was all K.'s doing, and my own exquisite facility of temper? But thou wilt be a wag, Thomas; and see what you get for it. Now for my revenge.

"Depend--and perpend--upon it that your opinion of * *'s poem will travel through one or other of the quintuple correspondents, till it reaches the ear, and the liver of the author.[75] Your adventure, however, is truly laughable--but how could you be such a potatoe? You 'a brother' (of the quill) too, 'near the throne,'

to confide to a man's _own publisher_ (who has 'bought,' or rather sold, 'golden opinions' about him) such a d.a.m.natory parenthesis!

'Between you and me,' quotha--it reminds me of a pa.s.sage in the Heir at Law--'Tete-a-tete with Lady Duberly, I suppose.'--'No--tete-a-tete with _five hundred people_;' and your confidential communication will doubtless be in circulation to that amount, in a short time, with several additions, and in several letters, all signed L.H.R.O.B., &c. &c. &c.

"We leave this place to-morrow, and shall stop on our way to town (in the interval of taking a house there) at Col. Leigh's, near Newmarket, where any epistle of yours will find its welcome way.

"I have been very comfortable here,--listening to that d----d monologue, which elderly gentlemen call conversation, and in which my pious father-in-law repeats himself every evening--save one, when he played upon the fiddle. However, they have been very kind and hospitable, and I like them and the place vastly, and I hope they will live many happy months. Bell is in health, and unvaried good-humour and behaviour. But we are all in the agonies of packing and parting; and I suppose by this time to-morrow I shall be stuck in the chariot with my chin upon a band-box. I have prepared, however, another carriage for the abigail, and all the trumpery which our wives drag along with them.

"Ever thine, most affectionately,

"B."

[Footnote 75: He here alludes to a circ.u.mstance which I had communicated to him in a preceding letter. In writing to one of the numerous partners of a well-known publishing establishment (with which I have since been lucky enough to form a more intimate connection), I had said confidentially (as I thought), in reference to a poem that had just appeared,--"Between you and me, I do not much admire Mr. * *'s poem."

The letter being chiefly upon business, was answered through the regular business channel, and, to my dismay, concluded with the following words:--"_We_ are very sorry that you do not approve of Mr. * *'s new poem, and are your obedient, &c. &c. L.H.R.O., &c. &c."]

LETTER 218. TO MR. MOORE.

"March 17. 1815.

"I meaned to write to you before on the subject of your loss[76]; but the recollection of the uselessness and worthlessness of any observations on such events prevented me. I shall only now add, that I rejoice to see you bear it so well, and that I trust time will enable Mrs. M. to sustain it better. Every thing should be done to divert and occupy her with other thoughts and cares, and I am sure that all that can be done will.

"Now to your letter. Napoleon--but the papers will have told you all. I quite think with you upon the subject, and for my _real_ thoughts this time last year, I would refer you to the last pages of the Journal I gave you. I can forgive the rogue for utterly falsifying every line of mine Ode--which I take to be the last and uttermost stretch of human magnanimity. Do you remember the story of a certain Abbe, who wrote a treatise on the Swedish Const.i.tution, and proved it indissoluble and eternal? Just as he had corrected the last sheet, news came that Gustavus III. had destroyed this immortal government. 'Sir,' quoth the Abbe, 'the King of Sweden may overthrow the _const.i.tution_, but not _my book_!!' I think _of_ the Abbe, but not _with_ him.

"Making every allowance for talent and most consummate daring, there is, after all, a good deal in luck or destiny. He might have been stopped by our frigates--or wrecked in the Gulf of Lyons, which is particularly tempestuous--or--a thousand things. But he is certainly Fortune's favourite, and

Once fairly set out on his party of pleasure, Taking towns at his liking and crowns at his leisure, From Elba to Lyons and Paris he goes, Making _b.a.l.l.s for_ the ladies, and _bows_ to his foes.

You must have seen the account of his driving into the middle of the royal army, and the immediate effect of his pretty speeches.

And now if he don't drub the allies, there is 'no purchase in money.' If he can take France by himself, the devil's in 't if he don't repulse the invaders, when backed by those celebrated sworders--those boys of the blade, the Imperial Guard, and the old and new army. It is impossible not to be dazzled and overwhelmed by his character and career. Nothing ever so disappointed me as his abdication, and nothing could have reconciled me to him but some such revival as his recent exploit; though no one could antic.i.p.ate such a complete and brilliant renovation.

"To your question, I can only answer that there have been some symptoms which look a little gestatory. It is a subject upon which I am not particularly anxious, except that I think it would please her uncle, Lord Wentworth, and her father and mother. The former (Lord W.) is now in town, and in very indifferent health. You, perhaps, know that his property, amounting to seven or eight thousand a year, will eventually devolve upon Bell. But the old gentleman has been so very kind to her and me, that I hardly know how to wish him in heaven, if he can be comfortable on earth. Her father is still in the country.

"We mean to metropolise to-morrow, and you will address your next to Piccadilly. We have got the d.u.c.h.ess of Devon's house there, she being in France.

"I don't care what Power says to secure the property of the Song, so that it is _not_ complimentary to me, nor any thing about 'condescending' or '_n.o.ble_ author'--both 'vile phrases,' as Polonius says.

"Pray, let me hear from you, and when you mean to be in town. Your continental scheme is impracticable for the present. I have to thank you for a longer letter than usual, which I hope will induce you to tax my grat.i.tude still further in the same way.