Chapter XXI: Letter 175: To Mr. Moore

"Albany, April 20. 1814.

"I _am_ very glad to hear that you are to be transient from
Mayfield so very soon, and was taken in by the first part of your
letter.[24] Indeed, for aught I know, you may be treating me, as
Slipslop says, with 'ironing' even now. I shall say nothing of the
_shock_, which had nothing of _humeur_ in it; as I am apt to take
even a critic, and still more a friend, at his word, and never to
doubt that I have been writing cursed nonsense, if they say so.
There was a mental reservation in my pact with the public[25], in
behalf of _anonymes_; and, even had there not, the provocation was
such as to make it physically impossible to pass over this damnable
epoch of triumphant tameness. 'Tis a cursed business; and, after
all, I shall think higher of rhyme and reason, and very humbly of
your heroic people, till--Elba becomes a volcano, and sends him
out again. I can't think it all over yet.

"My departure for the Continent depends, in some measure, on the
_in_continent. I have two country invitations at home, and don't
know what to say or do. In the mean time, I have bought a macaw and
a parrot, and have got up my books; and I box and fence daily, and
go out very little.

"At this present writing, Louis the Gouty is wheeling in triumph
into Piccadilly, in all the pomp and rabblement of royalty. I had
an offer of seats to see them pass; but, as I have seen a Sultan
going to mosque, and been at _his_ reception of an ambassador, the
most Christian King 'hath no attractions for me:'--though in some
coming year of the Hegira, I should not dislike to see the place
where he _had_ reigned, shortly after the second revolution, and a
happy sovereignty of two months, the last six weeks being civil
war.

"Pray write, and deem me ever," &c.

[Footnote 24: I had begun my letter in the following manner:--"Have you seen the 'Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte?'--I suspect it to be either F----g----d's or Rosa Matilda's. Those rapid and masterly portraits of all the tyrants that preceded Napoleon have a vigour in them which would incline me to say that Rosa Matilda is the person--but then, on the other hand, that powerful grasp of history," &c. &c. After a little more of this mock parallel, the letter went on thus:--"I should like to know what _you_ think of the matter?--Some friends of mine here _will_ insist that it is the work of the author of Childe Harold,--but then they are not so well read in F----g----d and Rosa Matilda as I am; and, besides, they seem to forget that _you_ promised, about a month or two ago, not to write any more for years. Seriously," &c. &c.

I quote this foolish banter merely to show how safely, even on his most sensitive points, one might venture to jest with him.]

[Footnote 25: We find D'Argenson thus encouraging Voltaire to break a similar vow:--"Continue to write without fear for five-and-twenty years longer, but write poetry, notwithstanding your oath in the preface to Newton."]

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