Chapter CX: Letter 504: To Mr. Murray

"Genoa, October 9. 1822.

"I have received your letter, and as you explain it, I have no
objection, on _your_ account, to omit those passages in the new
Mystery (which were marked in the half-sheet sent the other day to
Pisa), or the passage in _Cain_;--but why not be open and say so at
_first_? You should be more straight-forward on every account.

"I have been very unwell--four days confined to my bed in 'the
worst inn's worst room,' at Lerici, with a violent rheumatic and
bilious attack, constipation, and the devil knows what: no
physician, except a young fellow, who, however, was kind and
cautious, and that's enough.

"At last I seized Thompson's book of prescriptions (a donation of
yours), and physicked myself with the first dose I found in it; and
after undergoing the ravages of all kinds of decoctions, sallied
from bed on the fifth day to cross the Gulf to Sestri. The sea
revived me instantly; and I ate the sailor's cold fish, and drank a
gallon of country wine, and got to Genoa the same night after
landing at Sestri, and have ever since been keeping well, but
thinner, and with an occasional cough towards evening.

"I am afraid the Journal _is a bad_ business, and won't do; but in
it I am sacrificing _myself_ for others--_I_ can have no advantage
in it. I believe the _brothers Hunts_ to be honest men; I am sure
that they are poor ones; they have not a nap. They pressed me to
engage in this work, and in an evil hour I consented. Still I shall
not repent, if I can do them the least service. I have done all I
can for Leigh Hunt since he came here; but it is almost
useless:--his wife is ill, his six children not very tractable, and
in the affairs of this world he himself is a child. The death of
Shelley left them totally aground; and I could not see them in such
a state without using the common feelings of humanity, and what
means were in my power, to set them afloat again.

"So Douglas Kinnaird is out of the way? He was so the last time I
sent him a parcel, and he gives no previous notice. When is he
expected again?

"Yours, &c.

"P.S. Will you say at once--do you publish Werner and the Mystery
or not? You never once allude to them.

"That curst advertisement of Mr. J. Hunt is out of the limits. I
did not lend him my name to be hawked about in this way.

"However, I believe--at least, hope--that after all you may be a
good fellow at bottom, and it is on this presumption that I now
write to you on the subject of a poor woman of the name of _Yossy_,
who is, or was, an author of yours, as she says, and published a
book on Switzerland in 1816, patronised by the 'Court and Colonel
M'Mahon.' But it seems that neither the Court nor the Colonel could
get over the portentous price of three pounds, thirteen, and
sixpence,' which alarmed the too susceptible public; and, in short,
'the book died away,' and, what is worse, the poor soul's husband
died too, and she writes with the man a corpse before her; but
instead of addressing the bishop or Mr. Wilberforce, she hath
recourse to that proscribed, atheistical, syllogistical,
phlogistical person, _mysen_, as they say in Notts. It is strange
enough, but the rascaille English who calumniate me in every
direction and on every score, whenever they are in great distress
recur to me for assistance. If I have had one example of this, I
have had letters from a thousand, and as far as is in my power have
tried to repay good for evil, and purchase a shilling's worth of
salvation as long as my pocket can hold out.

"Now, I am willing to do what I can for this unfortunate person;
but her situation and her wishes (not unreasonable, however,)
require more than can be advanced by one individual like myself;
for I have many claims of the same kind just at present, and also
some remnants of _debt_ to pay in England--God, he knows, the
_latter_ how reluctantly! Can the Literary Fund do nothing for her?
By your interest, which is great among the pious, I dare say that
something might be collected. Can you get any of her books
published? Suppose you took her as author in my place, now vacant
among your ragamuffins; she is a moral and pious person, and will
shine upon your shelves. But seriously, do what you can for her."

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