Chapter VII: May, 1813-December, 1813 (4)

"I restore the 'Giaour' to your Lordship entirely, and for 'it', the
'Bride of Abydos', and the miscellaneous poems intended to fill up the
volume of the small edition, I beg leave to offer you the sum of One
Thousand Guineas, and I shall be happy if you perceive that my
estimation of your talents in my character of a man of business is not
much under my admiration of them as a man."]

* * * * *

354.--To John Murray.

November 20, 1813.

More work for the _Row_. I am doing my best to beat "_The Giaour_"--_no_ difficult task for any one but the author. Yours truly, B.

* * * * *

355.--To John Murray.

November 22, 1813.

DEAR SIR,--I have no time to _cross_-investigate, but I believe and hope all is right. I care less than you will believe about its success, but I can't survive a single _misprint_; it _choaks_ me to see words misused by the Printers. Pray look over, in case of some eyesore escaping me. Ever yours, B.

P.S.--Send the earliest copies to Mr. Frere, Mr. Canning, Mr. Heber, Mr. Gifford, Lord Holland, Lady Melbourne (Whitehall), Lady C. L. (Brocket), Mr. Hodgson (Cambridge), Mr. Merivale, Mr. Ward, from the author.

* * * * *

356.--To John Murray.

November 23, 1813.

DEAR SIR,--You wanted some _reflections_, and I send you _per Selim_ (see his speech in Canto 2d, page 46.), eighteen lines in decent couplets, of a pensive, if not an _ethical_ tendency. One more revise--poz. the _last_, if decently done--at any rate the _pen_ultimate. Mr. Canning's approbation (_if_ he did approve) I need not say makes me proud [1].

As to printing, print as you will and how you will--by itself, if you like; but let me have a few copies in _sheets_.

Ever yours,

B.

[Footnote 1: Canning wrote the following note to Murray:

"I received the books, and, among them, 'The Bride of Abydos'. It is
very, very beautiful. Lord Byron (when I met him, one day, at dinner
at Mr. Ward's) was so kind as to promise to give me a copy of it. I
mention this, not to save my purchase, but because I should be really
flattered by the present. I can now say that I have read enough of
Mad. de Stael to be highly pleased and instructed by her. The second
volume delights me particularly. I have not yet finished the third,
but am taking it with me on my journey to Liverpool."]

* * * * *

357.--To John Murray.

November 24, 1813.

You must pardon me once more, as it is all for your good: it must be thus:

He makes a Solitude, and calls it Peace.

"_Makes_" is closer to the passage of Tacitus [1], from which the line is taken, and is, besides, a stronger word than "_leaves_."

Mark where his carnage and his conquests cease--
He makes a Solitude, and calls it--peace.

You will perceive that the sense is now clearer, the "_He_" refers to "_Man_" in the preceding couplet.

Yours ever,

B.

[Footnote 1:

"Solitudinem faciunt--pacem appellant."

Tacitus, 'Agricola', 30.]

* * * * *

358.--To John Murray.

November 27, 1813.

Dear Sir,--If you look over this carefully by the _last proof_ with my corrections, it is probably right; this _you_ can _do_ as well or better;--I have not now time. The copies I mentioned to be sent to different friends last night, I should wish to be made up with the new Giaours, if it also is ready. If not, send 'The Giaour' afterwards.

The 'Morning Post' says _I_ am the author of 'Nourjahad' [1]!!

This comes of lending the drawings for their dresses; but it is not worth a _formal contradiction_. Besides, the criticisms on the _supposition_ will, some of them, be quite amusing and furious. The _Orientalism_--which I hear is very splendid--of the Melodrame (whosever it is, and I am sure I don't know) is as good as an Advertisement for your Eastern Stories, by filling their heads with glitter. Yours ever, B.

P.S.--You will of course _say_ the truth, that I am _not_ the Melo-dramatist--if any one charges me in your presence with the performance.

[Footnote 1: The same charge is made in the 'Satirist' (vol. xiii. p. 508). 'Illusion, or the Trances of Nourjahad', was acted at Drury Lane, November 25, 1813. It is described by Genest ('The English Stage', vol. viii. p. 403) as "a Melo-dramatic spectacle in three acts by an anonymous author." "Nourjahad" was acted by Elliston; "Mandane," his wife, by Mrs. Horn.]

* * * * *

359.--To John Murray.

November 28, 1813.

Dear Sir,--Send another copy (if not too much of a request) to Lady Holland of the _Journal_ [1], in my name, when you receive this; it is for _Earl Grey_--and I will relinquish my own. Also to Mr. Sharpe, Lady Holland, and Lady Caroline Lamb, copies of _The Bride_, as soon as convenient. Ever yours, BIRON.

P.S.--Mr. W. and myself still continue our purpose; but I shall not trouble you on any arrangement on the score of _The Giaour_ and _The Bride_ till our return,--or, at any rate, before _May_, 1814,--that is, six months from hence: and before that time you will be able to ascertain how far your offer may be a losing one: if so, you can deduct proportionably; and if not, I shall not at any rate allow you to go higher than your present proposal, which is very handsome, and more than fair.

I have had--but this must be _entre nous_--a very kind note, on the subject of _The Bride_, from Sir James Mackintosh, and an invitation to go there this evening, which it is now too late to accept [2].

[Footnote 1: The Rev. John Eagles (1783-1855), scholar, artist, and contributor (1831-55) to 'Blackwood's Magazine', edited 'The Journal of Llewellin Penrose, a Seaman', which Murray published in 1815.]

[Footnote 2:

"Lord Byron is the author of the day; six thousand of his 'Bride of
Abydos' have been sold within a month."

Sir James Mackintosh ('Life', vol. ii. p. 271).]

* * * * *

360.--To John Murray.

November 29, 1813.

Sunday--Monday morning--three o'clock--in my doublet and hose,--_swearing_.

Dear Sir,--I send you in time an Errata page, containing an omission of mine [1], which must be thus added, as it is too late for insertion in the text. The passage is an imitation altogether from Medea in Ovid, and is incomplete without these two lines. Pray let this be done, and directly; it is necessary, will add one page to your book(-_making_), and can do no harm, and is yet in time for the _public_. Answer me, thou Oracle, in the affirmative. You can send the loose pages to those who have copies already, if they like; but certainly to all the _Critical_ copyholders.

Ever yours, BIRON.

P.S.--I have got out of my bed (in which, however, I could not sleep, whether I had amended this or not), and so good morning. I am trying whether _De l'Allemagne_ will act as an opiate, but I doubt it.

[Footnote 1: 'The Bride of Abydos', Canto II. stanza xx. The lines were:

"Then, if my lip once murmurs, it must be
No sigh for Safety, but a prayer for thee."]

* * * * *

361.--To John Murray.

November 29, 1813.

"_You have looked at it!_" to much purpose, to allow so stupid a blunder to stand; it is _not_ "_courage_" but "_carnage_;" and if you don't want me to cut my own throat, see it altered.

I am very sorry to hear of the fall of Dresden.

* * * * *

362.--To John Murray.

Nov. 29, 1813, Monday.

Dear Sir,--You will act as you please upon that point; but whether I go or stay, I shall not say another word on the subject till May--nor then, unless quite convenient to yourself. I have many things I wish to leave to your care, principally papers. The _vases_ need not be now sent, as Mr. W. is gone to Scotland. You are right about the Er[rata] page; place it at the beginning. Mr. Perry is a little premature in his compliments [1]: these may do harm by exciting expectation, and I think _we_ ought to be above it--though I see the next paragraph is on the 'Journal' [2], which makes me suspect _you_ as the author of both.

Would it not have been as well to have said in 2 cantos in the advertisement? they will else think of _fragments_, a species of composition very well for _once_, like _one ruin_ in a _view_; but one would not build a town of them. 'The Bride', such as it is, is my first _entire_ composition of any length (except the Satire, and be damned to it), for 'The Giaour' is but a string of passages, and 'Childe Harold' is, and I rather think always will be, unconcluded. I return Mr. Hay's note, with thanks to him and you.

There have been some epigrams on Mr. W[ard]: one I see to-day [3].

The first I did not see, but heard yesterday. The second seems very bad and Mr. P[erry] has placed it over _your_ puff. I only hope that Mr. W. does not believe that I had any connection with either. The Regent is the only person on whom I ever expectorated an epigram, or ever should; and even if I were disposed that way, I like and value Mr. W. too well to allow my politics to contract into spleen, or to admire any thing intended to annoy him or his. You need not take the trouble to answer this, as I shall see you in the course of the afternoon.

Yours very truly, B.

P.S.--I have said this much about the epigrams, because I live so much in the _opposite camp_, and, from my post as an Engineer, might be suspected as the flinger of these hand Grenadoes; but with a worthy foe I am all for open war, and not this bush-fighting, and have [not] had, nor will have, any thing to do with it. I do not know the author.

[Footnote 1: In the 'Morning Chronicle', November 29, 1813, appeared the following paragraph:

"Lord Byron's muse is extremely fruitful. He has another poem coming
out, entitled 'The Bride of Abydos', which is spoken of in terms of
the highest encomium."]

[Footnote 2: 'Journal of Llewellin Penrose, a Seaman.']

[Footnote 3:

"Ward has no heart, they say; but I deny it;--
He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it."]

* * * * *

363.--To John Murray.

Tuesday evening, Nov. 30, 1813.

Dear Sir,--For the sake of correctness, particularly in an Errata page, the alteration of the couplet I have just sent (half an hour ago) must take place, in spite of delay or cancel; let me see the _proof_ early to-morrow. I found out _murmur_ to be a neuter _verb_, and have been obliged to alter the line so as to make it a substantive, thus:

The deepest murmur of this life shall be
No sigh for Safety, but a prayer for thee!

Don't send the copies to the _country_ till this is all right.

Yours, B.

* * * * *

364.--To Thomas Moore.

November 30, 1813.

Since I last wrote to you, much has occurred, good, bad, and indifferent,--not to make me forget you, but to prevent me from reminding you of one who, nevertheless, has often thought of you, and to whom _your_ thoughts, in many a measure, have frequently been a consolation. We were once very near neighbours this autumn; and a good and bad neighbourhood it has proved to me. Suffice it to say, that your French quotation [1] was confoundedly to the purpose,--though very _unexpectedly_ pertinent, as you may imagine by what I _said_ before, and my silence since. However, "Richard's himself again," [2] and except all night and some part of the morning, I don't think very much about the matter.

All convulsions end with me in rhyme; and to solace my midnights, I have scribbled another Turkish story [3]--not a Fragment--which you will receive soon after this. It does not trench upon your kingdom in the least, and if it did, you would soon reduce me to my proper boundaries. You will think, and justly, that I run some risk of losing the little I have gained in fame, by this further experiment on public patience; but I have really ceased to care on that head. I have written this, and published it, for the sake of the _employment_,--to wring my thoughts from reality, and take refuge in "imaginings," however "horrible;" [4] and, as to success! those who succeed will console me for a failure--excepting yourself and one or two more, whom luckily I love too well to wish one leaf of their laurels a tint yellower. This is the work of a week, and will be the reading of an hour to you, or even less,--and so, let it go----.

P.S.--Ward and I _talk_ of going to Holland. I want to see how a Dutch canal looks after the Bosphorus. Pray respond.

[Footnote 1: Moore wrote to Byron in 1813 an undated letter, in which the following passage occurs:

"I am sorry I must wait till 'we are veterans' before you will open to
me 'the story of your wandering life, wherein you find more hours _due
to repentance_ ... than time hath told you yet.' Is it so with you, or
are you, like me, reprobate enough to look back with complacency on
what you have done? I suppose repentance _must bring up the rear_ with
us all; but at present I should say with old Fontenelle, _Si je
recommencais ma carriere, je ferais tout ce que j'ai fait_."]

[Footnote 2: Colley Cibber's 'Richard III', act v. sc. 3:

"Conscience, avaunt! Richard's himself again."]

[Footnote 3: 'The Bride of Abydos' was published December, 1813.]

[Footnote 4:

"Horrible imaginings."

'Macbeth', act i. sc. 3.]

* * * * *

365.--To Francis Hodgson.

Nov'r--Dec'r 1st, 1813.

I have just heard that _Knapp_ is acquainted with what I was but too happy in being enabled to do for you [1].

Now, my dear Hn., you, or Drury, must have told this, for, upon my own honour, not even to Scrope, nor to one soul, (Drury knew it before) have I said one syllable of the matter. So don't be out of humour with me about it, but you can't be more so than I am. I am, however, glad of one thing; if you ever conceived it to be in the least an obligation, this disclosure most fairly and fully releases you from it:

"To John I owe some obligation,
But John unluckily thinks fit
To publish it to all the nation,
So John and I are more than quit."

And so there's an end of the matter.

Ward _wavers_ a little about the Dutch, till matters are more sedative, and the French more sedentary.

The 'Bride' will blush upon you in a day or two; there is _much_, at least a _little_ addition. I am happy to say that Frere and Heber, and some other "good men and true," have been kind enough to adopt the same opinion that you did.

Pray write when you like, and believe me,

Ever yours,

BYRON.

P.S.--Murray has _offered_ me a thousand guineas for the _two_ ('Giaour' and 'Bride'), and told M'e. de Stael that he had _paid_ them to me!! I should be glad to be able to tell her so too. But the truth is, he would; but I thought the fair way was to decline it till May, and, at the end of 6 months, he can safely say whether he can afford it or not--without running any risk by Speculation. If he paid them now and lost by it, it would be hard. If he gains, it will be time enough when he has already funded his profits. But he needed not have told "_la Baronne_" such a devil of an uncalled for piece of--premature _truth_, perhaps--but, nevertheless, a _lie_ in the mean time.

[Footnote 1: Hodgson, now engaged to Miss Tayler, was anxious to clear off his father's liabilities. Byron gave him from first to last the sum of L1500 for the purpose. Hodgson, in a letter to his uncle, thus describes the gift ('Memoir of Rev. F. Hodgson', vol. i. pp. 268, 269):

"My noble-hearted friend, Lord Byron, after many offers of a similar
kind, which I felt bound to refuse, has irresistibly in my present
circumstances ... volunteered to pay all my debts, and within a few
pounds it is done! Oh, if you knew (but _you_ do know) the exultation
of heart, aye, and of head too, I feel at being free from these
depressing embarrassments, you would, as I do, bless my dearest friend
and brother Byron."]

* * * * *

366.--To John Murray.

Dec. 2, 1813.

Dear Sir,--When you can, let the couplet enclosed be inserted either in the page, or in the Errata page. I trust it is in time for some of the copies. This alteration is in the same part--the page _but one_ before the last correction sent.

Yours, etc.,

B.

P.S.--I am afraid, from all I hear, that people are rather inordinate in their expectations, which is very unlucky, but cannot now be helped. This comes of Mr. Perry and one's wise friends; but do not _you_ wind _your_ hopes of success to the same pitch, for fear of accidents, and I can assure you that my philosophy will stand the test very fairly; and I have done every thing to ensure you, at all events, from positive loss, which will be some satisfaction to both.

* * * * *

367.--To Leigh Hunt.

4, Bennet St., Dec. 2, 1813.

My dear Sir,--Few things could be more welcome than your note, and on Saturday morning I will avail myself of your permission to thank you for it in person. My time has not been passed, since we met, either profitably or agreeably. A very short period after my last visit, an incident occurred with which, I fear, you are not unacquainted, as report, in many mouths and more than one paper, was busy with the topic. That, naturally, gave me much uneasiness. Then I nearly incurred a lawsuit on the sale of an estate; but that is now arranged: next--but why should I go on with a series of selfish and silly details? I merely wish to assure you that it was not the frivolous forgetfulness of a mind, occupied by what is called pleasure (_not_ in the true sense of Epicurus), that kept me away; but a perception of my, then, unfitness to share the society of those whom I value and wish not to displease. I hate being _larmoyant_, and making a serious face among those who are cheerful.

It is my wish that our acquaintance, or, if you please to accept it, friendship, may be permanent. I have been lucky enough to preserve some friends from a very early period, and I hope, as I do not (at least now) select them lightly, I shall not lose them capriciously. I have a thorough esteem for that independence of spirit [1] which you have maintained with sterling talent, and at the expense of some suffering. You have not, I trust, abandoned the poem you were composing, when Moore and I partook of your hospitality in the summer. I hope a time will come when he and I may be able to repay you in kind for the _latter_--for the rhyme, at least in _quantity_, you are in arrear to both.

Believe me, very truly and affectionately yours,

Byron.

[Footnote 1: The following is Leigh Hunt's answer:

"My dear Lord,--I need not tell you how much your second letter has
gratified me, for I am apt to speak as sincerely as I think (you must
suffer me to talk in this way after what you have been kind enough to
say of my independence), and it always rejoices me to find that those
whom I wish to regard will take me at my word. But I shall grow
egotistical upon the strength of your Lordship's good opinion. I shall
be heartily glad to see you on Saturday morning, and perhaps shall
prevail upon you to take a luncheon with us at our dinner-time(3). The
nature of your letter would have brought upon you a long answer,
filled perhaps with an enthusiasm that might have made you smile; but
I am keeping your servant in the cold, and so, among other good
offices, you see what he has done for you. However, I would not make a
light thing of so good a matter as I mean my enthusiasm to be, and
intend, before I have done, that you shall have as sound a regard for
it, as I have for the feelings on your Lordship's part that have
called it forth.

"Yours, my dear Lord, most sincerely and cordially,

"Leigh Hunt.

"Surrey Jail, 2'd Dec'r., 1813."]

* * * * *

368.--To John Murray.

Dec. 3, 1813.

I send you a _scratch_ or _two_, the which _heal_. The _Christian Observer_ [1] is very savage, but certainly uncommonly well written--and quite uncomfortable at the naughtiness of book and author. I rather suspect you won't much like the _present_ to be more moral, if it is to share also the usual fate of your virtuous volumes.

Let me see a proof of the _six_ before _incorporation_.

[Footnote 1: The 'Christian Observer' for November, 1813 (pp. 731-737) felt compelled to review 'The Giaour', because of its extraordinary popularity; but it found that some of the passages savoured "too much of Newgate and Bedlam for our expurgated pages." It acknowledged one obligation to Byron.

"He never attempts to deceive the world by representing the profligate
as happy.... And his testimony is of the more value, as his situation
in life must have permitted him to see the experiment tried under the
most favourable circumstances. He has probably seen more than one
example of young men of high birth, talents, and expectancies, ...
sink under the burden of unsubdued tempers, licentious alliances, and
ennervating indulgence.... He has _seen_ all this; nay, perhaps--But
we check our pen," etc., etc.]

* * * * *

369.--To John Murray.

Dec. 3, 1813.

My dear Sir,--Look out the Encyclopedia article _Mecca_ whether it is there or at _Medina_ the Prophet is entombed, if at Medina the first lines of my alteration must run:

Blest as the call which from Medina's dome
Invites Devotion to her Prophet's tomb, etc.

If at "Mecca" the lines may stand as before. Page 45, C deg.. 2nd, 'Bride of Abydos'. Yours, B.

You will find this out either by Article _Mecca, Medina_ or _Mahommed_. I have no book of reference by me.

* * * * *

370.--To John Murray.

[No date.]

Did you look out? is it _Medina_ or _Mecca_ that contains the _holy_ Sepulchre? don't make me blaspheme by your negligence. I have no books of reference or I would save you the trouble. I _blush_ as a good Mussulman to have confused the point. Yours, B.

* * * * *

371.--To John Murray.

Dec. 4, 1813.

Dear Sir,--I have redde through your Persian Tales [1], and have taken the liberty of making some remarks on the _blank_ pages. There are many beautiful passages, and an interesting story; and I cannot give you a stronger proof that such is my opinion, than by the _date_ of the _hour--two o'clock_,--till which it has kept me awake _without a yawn_.

The conclusion is not quite correct in _costume_: there is no _Mussulman suicide_ on record--at least for _love_. But this matters not. The tale must have been written by some one who has been on the spot, and I wish him, and he deserves, success. Will you apologise to the author for the liberties I have taken with his MS.? Had I been less awake to, and interested in, his theme, I had been less obtrusive; but you know _I_ always take this in good part, and I hope he will. It is difficult to say what _will_ succeed, and still more to pronounce what _will not_. _I_ am at this moment in _that uncertainty_ (on your _own_ score); and it is no small proof of the author's powers to be able to _charm_ and _fix_ a _mind's_ attention on similar subjects and climates in such a predicament. That he may have the same effect upon all his readers is very sincerely the wish, and hardly the _doubt_, of

Yours truly, B.

[Footnote 1: Henry Gally Knight (1786-1846), who was with Byron at Trinity, Cambridge, and afterwards distinguished himself by his architectural writings (e.g. 'The Normans in Sicily,' 1838), began his literary career with 'Ilderim, a Syrian Tale' (1816). 'Phrosyne, a Grecian Tale'; 'Alashtar, an Arabian Tale' (1817), was followed, after a considerable interval, by 'Eastern Sketches' (about 1829-30). If the manuscript of the first-mentioned volume is that to which Byron refers, he seems to have changed his mind as to its merits (March 25, 1817):

"I tried at 'Ilderim;'
Ahem!"]

* * * * *

372.--To John Murray.

Monday evening, Dec. 6, 1813.

Dear Sir,--It is all very well, except that the lines are not numbered properly, and a diabolical mistake, page 67., which _must_ be corrected with the _pen_, if no other way remains; it is the omission of "_not_" before "_disagreeable_" in the _note_ on the _amber_ rosary. This is really horrible, and nearly as bad as the stumble of mine at the Threshold--I mean the _misnomer_ of bride. Pray do not let a copy go without the "_not_;" it is nonsense, and worse than nonsense, as it now stands. I wish the printer was saddled with a vampire.

Yours ever, B.

P.S.--It is still _hath_ instead of _have_ in page 20.; never was any one so _misused_ as I am by your Devils of printers.

P.S.--I hope and trust the "_not_" was inserted in the first Edition. We must have something--any thing--to set it right. It is enough to answer for one's own bulls, without other people's.

* * * * *

373.--To Thomas Moore.

December 8, 1813.

Your letter, like all the best, and even kindest things in this world, is both painful and pleasing. But, first, to what sits nearest. Do you know I was actually about to dedicate to you,--not in a formal inscription, as to one's _elders_,--but through a short prefatory letter, in which I boasted myself your intimate, and held forth the prospect of _your_ poem; when, lo! the recollection of your strict injunctions of secrecy as to the said poem, more than _once_ repeated by word and letter, flashed upon me, and marred my intents. I could have no motive for repressing my own desire of alluding to you (and not a day passes that I do not think and talk of you), but an idea that you might, yourself, dislike it. You cannot doubt my sincere admiration, waving personal friendship for the present, which, by the by, is not less sincere and deep rooted. I have you by rote and by heart; of which _ecce signum!_ When I was at Aston, on my first visit, I have a habit, in passing my time a good deal alone, of--I won't call it singing, for that I never attempt except to myself--but of uttering, to what I think tunes, your "Oh breathe not," "When the last glimpse," and "When he who adores thee," with others of the same minstrel;--they are my matins and vespers. I assuredly did not intend them to be overheard, but, one morning, in comes, not _La Donna_, but _Il Marito_, with a very grave face, saying, "Byron, I must request you won't sing any more, at least of those songs." I stared, and said, "Certainly, but why?"--"To tell you the truth," quoth he, "they make my wife _cry_, and so melancholy, that I wish her to hear no more of them."

Now, my dear M., the effect must have been from your words, and certainly not my music. I merely mention this foolish story to show you how much I am indebted to you for even your pastimes. A man may praise and praise, but no one recollects but that which pleases--at least, in composition. Though I think no one equal to you in that department, or in satire,--and surely no one was ever so popular in both,--I certainly am of opinion that you have not yet done all _you_ can do, though more than enough for any one else. I want, and the world expects, a longer work from you; and I see in you what I never saw in poet before, a strange diffidence of your own powers, which I cannot account for, and which must be unaccountable, when a _Cossac_ like me can appal a _cuirassier_. Your story I did not, could not, know,--I thought only of a Peri. I wish you had confided in me, not for your sake, but mine, and to prevent the world from losing a much better poem than my own, but which, I yet hope, this _clashing_ will not even now deprive them of [1].

Mine is the work of a week, written, _why_ I have partly told you, and partly I cannot tell you by letter--some day I will.

Go on--I shall really be very unhappy if I at all interfere with you. The success of mine is yet problematical; though the public will probably purchase a certain quantity, on the presumption of their own propensity for 'The Giaour' and such "horrid mysteries." The only advantage I have is being on the spot; and that merely amounts to saving me the trouble of turning over books which I had better read again. If _your chamber_ was furnished in the same way, you have no need to _go there_ to describe--I mean only as to _accuracy_--because I drew it from recollection.

This last thing of mine _may_ have the same fate, and I assure you I have great doubts about it. But, even if not, its little day will be over before you are ready and willing. Come out--"screw your courage to the sticking-place." [2]

Except the _Post Bag_ (and surely you cannot complain of a want of success there), you have not been _regularly_ out for some years. No man stands higher,--whatever you may think on a rainy day, in your provincial retreat.

"Aucun homme, dans aucune langue, n'a ete, peut-etre, plus
completement le poete du coeur et le poete des femmes. Les critiques
lui reprochent de n'avoir represente le monde ni tel qu'il est, ni tel
qu'il doit etre; _mais les femmes repondent qu'il l'a represente tel
qu'elles le desirent._"

I should have thought Sismondi [3] had written this for you instead of Metastasio.

Write to me, and tell me of _yourself_. Do you remember what Rousseau said to some one--"Have we quarrelled? you have talked to me often, and never once mentioned yourself."

P.S.--The last sentence is an indirect apology for my egotism,--but I believe in letters it is allowed. I wish it was _mutual_. I have met with an odd reflection in Grimm; it shall not--at least the bad part--be applied to you or me, though _one_ of us has certainly an indifferent name--but this it is:--"Many people have the reputation of being wicked, with whom we should be too happy to pass our lives". I need not add it is a woman's saying--a Mademoiselle de Sommery's [4].

[Footnote 1:

"Among the stories intended to be introduced into 'Lalla Rookh', which
I had begun, but, from various causes, never finished, there was one
which I had made some progress in, at the time of the appearance of
'The Bride', and which, on reading that poem, I found to contain such
singular coincidences with it, not only in locality and costume, but
in plot and characters, that I immediately gave up my story
altogether, and began another on an entirely new subject--the
Fire-worshippers. To this circumstance, which I immediately
communicated to him, Lord Byron alludes in this letter. In my hero (to
whom I had even given the name of 'Zelim,' and who was a descendant of
Ali, outlawed, with all his followers, by the reigning Caliph) it was
my intention to shadow out, as I did afterwards in another form, the
national cause of Ireland. To quote the words of my letter to Lord
Byron on the subject: 'I chose this story because one writes best
about what one feels most, and I thought the parallel with Ireland
would enable me to infuse some vigour into my hero's character. But to
aim at vigour and strong feeling after 'you' is hopeless;--that region
"was made for Caesar."'"

(Moore).]

[Footnote 2: 'Macbeth', act i. sc. 7.]

[Footnote 3: 'De la Litterature du Midi de l'Europe', ed. 1813, tom. ii. p. 436.]

[Footnote 4: Grimm ('Correspondance Litteraire', ed. 1813, part iii. tom ii. p. 126) says of Mlle. de Sommery, who died of apoplexy in 1790,

"Que de gens ont la reputation d'etre mechans, avec lesquels on serait
trop heureux de passer sa vie."

The 'Biographie Universelle' says of her,

"Elle avait du talent pour ecrire; mais elle ne l'exerca que fort tard
.... Le premier livre qu'elle publia, n'etant plus tres jeune, fut un
recueil de pensees detachees, dedie aux manes de Saurin, qu'elle
intitula 'Doutes sur differentes Opinions recues dans la Societe'. Ce
recueil eut un veritable succes."

Mlle. de Sommery also published, besides the 'Doutes' (1782), 'Lettres de Madame la Comtesse de L. a M. le Comte de R'. (1785); 'Lettres de Mlle. de Tourville a Madame la Comtesse de Lenoncourt' (1788); 'L'Oreille, conte Asiatique' (1789).]

* * * * *

374.--To John Galt [1].

Dec. 11, 1813.

My dear Galt,--There was no offence--there _could_ be none. I thought it by no means impossible that we might have hit on something similar, particularly as you are a dramatist, and was anxious to assure you of the truth, viz., that I had not wittingly seized upon plot, sentiment, or incident; and I am very glad that I have not in any respect trenched upon your subjects. Something still more singular is, that the _first_ part, where you have found a coincidence in some events within your observations on _life_, was _drawn_ from _observations_ of mine also, and I meant to have gone on with the story, but on _second_ thoughts, I thought myself _two centuries_ at least too late for the subject; which, though admitting of very powerful feeling and description, yet is not adapted for this age, at least this country, though the finest works of the Greeks, one of Schiller's and Alfieri's in modern times, besides several of our _old_ (and best) dramatists, have been grounded on incidents of a similar cast. I therefore altered it as you perceive, and in so doing have weakened the whole, by interrupting the train of thought: and in composition I do not think _second_ thoughts are the best, though _second_ expressions may improve the first ideas.

I do not know how other men feel towards those they have met abroad, but to me there seems a kind of tie established between all who have met together in a foreign country, as if we had met in a state of pre-existence, and were talking over a life that has ceased: but I always look forward to renewing my travels; and though _you_, I think, are now stationary, if I can at all forward your pursuits _there_ as well as here, I shall be truly glad in the opportunity.

Ever yours very sincerely, B.

P.S.--I leave town for a day or two on Monday, but after that I am always at home, and happy to see you till half-past two.

[Footnote 1: For John Galt, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 243 [Footnote 1 of