I once thought myself a philosopher, and talked nonsense with great decorum: I defied pain, and preached up equanimity. For some time this did very well, for no one was in pain for me but my friends, and none lost their patience but my hearers. At last, a fall from my horse convinced me bodily suffering was an evil; and the worst of an argument overset my maxims and my temper at the same moment: so I quitted Zeno for Aristippus, and conceive that pleasure constitutes the [Greek (transliterated): to kalon].

In morality, I prefer Confucius to the Ten Commandments, and Socrates to St. Paul (though the two latter agree in their opinion of marriage). In religion, I favour the Catholic emancipation, but do not acknowledge the Pope; and I have refused to take the sacrament, because I do not think eating bread or drinking wine from the hand of an earthly vicar will make me an inheritor of heaven. I hold virtue, in general, or the virtues severally, to be only in the disposition, each a feeling, not a principle. I believe truth the prime attribute of the Deity, and death an eternal sleep, at least of the body. You have here a brief compendium of the sentiments of the wicked George, Lord Byron; and, till I get a new suit, you will perceive I am badly cloathed.

I remain yours, etc.,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: In Byron's "List of historical writers whose works I have perused in different languages" ('Life', pp. 46, 47), occurs the name of Montesquieu. It is to his 'Esprit des Lois' that Byron refers.]



89.—To John Hanson.

Dorant's, January 25th, 1808.

Sir,—The picture I have drawn of my finances is unfortunately a true one, and I find the colours may be heightened but not improved by time.—I have inclosed the receipt, and return my thanks for the loan, which shall be repaid the first opportunity. In the concluding part of my last I gave my reasons for not troubling you with my society at present, but when I can either communicate or receive pleasure, I shall not be long absent.

Yrs., etc.,

BYRON.

P.S.—I have received a letter from Whitehead, of course you know the contents, and must act as you think proper.



90.—To John Hanson.

Dorant's, January 25th, 1808.

Dear Sir,—Some time ago I gave Mitchell the sadler [sic] a letter for you, requesting his bill might be paid from the Balance of the Quarter you obliged me by advancing. If he has received this you will further oblige me by paying what remains, I believe somewhere about five pounds, if so much.

You will confer a favour upon me by the loan of twenty. I will endeavour to repay it next week, as I have immediate occasion for that sum, and I should not require it of you could I obtain it elsewhere.

I am now in my one and twentieth year, and cannot command as many pounds. To Cambridge I cannot go without paying my bills, and at present I could as soon compass the National Debt; in London I must not remain, nor shall I, when I can procure a trifle to take me out of it. Home I have none; and if there was a possibility of getting out of the Country, I would gladly avail myself of it. But even that is denied me, my Debts amount to three thousand, three hundred to Jews, eight hundred to Mrs. B. of Nottingham, to coachmaker and other tradesmen a thousand more, and these must be much increased, before they are lessened.

Such is the prospect before me, which is by no means brightened by ill-health. I would have called on you, but I have neither spirits to enliven myself or others, or inclination to bring a gloomy face to spoil a group of happy ones. I remain,

Your obliged and obedt. sert.,

BYRON.

P.S.—Your answer to the former part will oblige, as I shall be reduced to a most unpleasant dilemma if it does not arrive.



91.—To James De Bathe. [1]

Dorant's Hotel, February 2d, 1808.

My Dear De Bathe,—Last Night I saw your Father and Brother, the former I have not the pleasure of knowing, but the latter informed me you came to Town on Saturday and returned yesterday.

I have received a pressing Invitation from Henry Drury to pay him a visit; in his Letter he mentions a very old Friend of yours, who told him he would join my party, if I could inform him on what day I meant to go over. This Friend you will readily conclude to be a Lord B.; but not the one who now addresses you. Shall I bring him to you? and insure a welcome for myself which perhaps might not otherwise be the case. This will not be for a Fortnight to come. I am waiting for Long, who is now at Chatham, when he arrives we shall probably drive down and dine with Drury.

I confess Harrow has lost most of its charms for me. I do not know if Delawarr is still there; but, with the exception of yourself and the Earl, I shall find myself among Strangers. Long has a Brother at Butler's, and all his predilections remain in full force; mine are weakened, if not destroyed, and though I can safely say, I never knew a Friend out of Harrow, I question whether I have one left in it. You leave Harrow in July; may I ask what is your future Destination?

In January 1809 I shall be twenty one & in the Spring of the same year proceed abroad, not on the usual Tour, but a route of a more extensive Description. What say you? are you disposed for a view of the Peloponnesus and a voyage through the Archipelago? I am merely in jest with regard to you, but very serious with regard to my own Intention which is fixed on the Pilgrimage, unless some political view or accident induce me to postpone it. Adieu! if you have Leisure, I shall be as happy to hear from you, as I would have been to have seen you. Believe me,

Yours very truly,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: Sir James Wynne De Bathe (1792-1828) succeeded his father as second baronet, February 22, 1808. "Clare, Dorset, Charles Gordon, De Bathe, Claridge, and John Wingfield, were my juniors and favourites, whom I spoilt by indulgence" ('Life', p. 21). De Bathe's name does not appear in the Harrow School lists. A Captain De Bathe interested himself in the case of Medora Leigh in 1843 (see Charles Mackay's 'Medora Leigh', pp. 92, 93, and elsewhere in the volume).]



92.—To William Harness. [1]

Dorant's Hotel, Albemarle Street, Feb. II, 1808.

My Dear Harness,—As I had no opportunity of returning my verbal thanks, I trust you will accept my written acknowledgments for the compliment you were pleased to pay some production of my unlucky muse last November,—I am induced to do this not less from the pleasure I feel in the praise of an old schoolfellow, than from justice to you, for I had heard the story with some slight variations. Indeed, when we met this morning, Wingfield [2] had not undeceived me; but he will tell you that I displayed no resentment in mentioning what I had heard, though I was not sorry to discover the truth. Perhaps you hardly recollect, some years ago, a short, though, for the time, a warm friendship between us. Why it was not of longer duration I know not. I have still a gift of yours in my possession, that must always prevent me from forgetting it. I also remember being favoured with the perusal of many of your compositions, and several other circumstances very pleasant in their day, which I will not force upon your memory, but entreat you to believe me, with much regret at their short continuance, and a hope they are not irrevocable,

Yours very sincerely, etc.,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: William Harness (1790-1869), son of Dr. J. Harness, Commissioner of the Transport Board, was educated at Harrow and Christ's College, Cambridge. Ordained in 1812, he was, from 1823 to 1826, Curate at Hampstead.

"I could quiz you heartily," writes Mrs. Franklin to Miss Mitford (September 6, 1824), "for having told me in three successive letters of Mr. Harness's chapel at Hampstead. I understand he now lives a very retired life"

('The Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford', vol. i. p. 61). From 1826 to 1844 he was Incumbent of Regent Square Chapel; Minister of Brompton Chapel (1844-47); Perpetual Curate (1849-69) of All Saints', Knightsbridge, which he built from subscriptions raised by himself. He is described by Crabb Robinson ('Diary', vol. iii. p. 212) as

"a clergyman with Oxford propensities, and a worshipper of the heathen Muses as well as of the Christian Graces;"

and again (iii. 326), as

"a man of taste, of High Church principles and liberal in spirit."

Miss Mitford ('The Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford', vol. ii. p. 289) writes that

"he has neither Catholic nor Puseyite tendencies,—only it is a large and liberal mind like Bishop Stanley's, believing good men and good Christians may exist among Papists, and will be as safe there as if they were Protestants."

Again (vol. ii. p. 295) she says of him:

"Besides his varied accomplishments, and his admirable goodness and kindness, he has all sorts of amusing peculiarities. With a temper never known to fail, an indulgence the largest, a tenderness as of a woman, he has the habit of talking like a cynic! and with more learning, ancient and modern, and a wider grasp of literature than almost any one I know, professes to read nothing and care for nothing but 'Shakespeare and the Bible.' He is the finest reader of both that I ever heard. His preaching, which has been so much admired, is too rapid, but his reading the prayers is perfection. The best parish priest in London, and the truest Christian."

Miss Mitford's praise may be exaggerated; but she had known Harness for a lifetime.

Harness edited 'Shakespeare' (1825, 8 vols.), as well as 'Massinger' (1830) and 'Ford' (1831); wrote for the 'Quarterly' and 'Blackwood'; and published a number of sermons, including 'The Wrath of Cain', 'A Boyle Lecture' (1822). He wrote 'The Life of Mary Russell Mitford' (1870), in collaboration with the Rev. A. G. L'Estrange, whose 'Life of the Rev. W. Harness' is the chief authority for his career.

His friendship with Byron began at Harrow ('Life', pp. 23, 24), where Byron, who was older than Harness, took pity upon his lameness and weakness, and protected him from the bullies of the school. At a later period they became estranged, as is shown by the following letter from Byron to Harness ('Life', pp. 24, 25):—

"We both seem perfectly to recollect, with a mixture of pleasure and regret, the hours we once passed together, and I assure you, most sincerely, they are numbered among the happiest of my brief chronicle of enjoyment. I am now 'getting into years', that is to say, I was 'twenty' a month ago, and another year will send me into the world to run my career of folly with the rest. I was then just fourteen,—you were almost the first of my Harrow friends, certainly the 'first' in my esteem, if not in date; but an absence from Harrow for some time, shortly after, and new connections on your side, and the difference in our conduct (an advantage decidedly in your favour) from that turbulent and riotous disposition of mine, which impelled me into every species of mischief,—all these circumstances combined to destroy an intimacy, which affection urged me to continue, and memory compels me to regret. But there is not a circumstance attending that period, hardly a sentence we exchanged, which is not impressed on my mind at this moment. I need not say more,—this assurance alone must convince you, had I considered them as trivial, they would have been less indelible. How well I recollect the perusal of your 'first flights'! There is another circumstance you do not know;—the 'first lines' I ever attempted at Harrow were addressed to 'you'. You were to have seen them; but Sinclair had the copy in his possession when we went home;—and, on our return, we were 'strangers'. They were destroyed, and certainly no great loss; but you will perceive from this circumstance my opinions at an age when we cannot be hypocrites.

I have dwelt longer on this theme than I intended, and I shall now conclude with what I ought to have begun. We were once friends,—nay, we have always been so, for our separation was the effect of chance, not of dissension. I do not know how far our destinations in life may throw us together, but if opportunity and inclination allow you to waste a thought on such a hare-brained being as myself, you will find me at least sincere, and not so bigoted to my faults as to involve others in the consequences. Will you sometimes write to me? I do not ask it often; and, if we meet, let us be what we 'should' be, and what we 'were'."

The following is Harness's own account of the circumstances in which Letter 92 was written:—

"A coolness afterwards arose, which Byron alludes to in the first of the accompanying letters, and we never spoke during the last year of his remaining at school, nor till after the publication of his 'Hours of Idleness'. Lord Byron was then at Cambridge; I, in one of the upper forms, at Harrow. In an English theme I happened to quote from the volume, and mention it with praise. It was reported to Byron that I had, on the contrary, spoken slightingly of his work and of himself, for the purpose of conciliating the favour of Dr. Butler, the master, who had been severely satirised in one of the poems. Wingfield, who was afterwards Lord Powerscourt, a mutual friend of Byron and myself, disabused him of the error into which he had been led, and this was the occasion of the first letter of the collection. Our intimacy was renewed, and continued from that time till his going abroad. Whatever faults Lord Byron might have had towards others, to myself he was always uniformly affectionate. I have many slights and neglects towards him to reproach myself with; but I cannot call to mind a single instance of caprice or unkindness, in the whole course of our friendship, to allege against him."

In December, 1811, Harness paid Byron a visit at Newstead, the only other guest being Francis Hodgson, who, like Harness, was not then ordained. He thus describes the visit ('Life of the Rev. Francis Hodgson', vol. i. pp. 219-221):—

"When Byron returned, with the MS. of the first two cantos of 'Childe Harold' in his portmanteau, I paid him a visit at Newstead. It was winter—dark, dreary weather—the snow upon the ground; and a straggling, gloomy, depressive, partially inhabited place the Abbey was. Those rooms, however, which had been fitted up for residence were so comfortably appointed, glowing with crimson hangings, and cheerful with capacious fires, that one soon lost the melancholy feeling of being domiciled in the wing of an extensive ruin. Many tales are related or fabled of the orgies which, in the poet's early youth, had made clamorous these ancient halls of the Byrons. I can only say that nothing in the shape of riot or excess occurred when I was there. The only other visitor was Dr. Hodgson, the translator of 'Juvenal', and nothing could be more quiet and regular than the course of our days. Byron was retouching, as the sheets passed through the press, the stanzas of 'Childe Harold'. Hodgson was at work in getting out the ensuing number of the 'Monthly Review', of which he was principal editor. I was reading for my degree. When we met, our general talk was of poets and poetry—of who could or who could not write; but it occasionally rose into very serious discussions on religion. Byron, from his early education in Scotland, had been taught to identify the principles of Christianity with the extreme dogmas of Calvinism. His mind had thus imbibed a most miserable prejudice, which appeared to be the only obstacle to his hearty acceptance of the Gospel. Of this error we were most anxious to disabuse him. The chief weight of the argument rested with Hodgson, who was older, a good deal, than myself. I cannot even now—at a distance of more than fifty years—recall those conversations without a deep feeling of admiration for the judicious zeal and affectionate earnestness (often speaking with tears in his eyes) which Dr. Hodgson evinced in his advocacy of the truth. The only difference, except perhaps in the subjects talked about, between our life at Newstead Abbey and that of the great families around us, was the hours we kept. It was, as I have said, winter, and the days were cold; and, as nothing tempted us to rise early, we got up late. This flung the routine of the day rather backward, and we did not go early to bed. My visit to Newstead lasted about three weeks, when I returned to Cambridge to take my degree."

To Harness Byron intended to dedicate 'Childe Harold', but feared to do so, "lest it should injure him in his profession."]

[Footnote 2: Three Wingfields, sons of Lord Powerscourt, entered Harrow in February, 1801. The Hon. Richard Wingfield succeeded his father as fifth Viscount Powerscourt in 1809, and died in 1823. Edward became a clergyman and died of cholera in 1825; John, Byron's friend, the "Alonzo" of "Childish Recollections" entered the Coldstream Guards, and died of fever at Coimbra, May 14, 1811.

"Of all human beings, I was perhaps at one time most attached to poor Wingfield, who died at Coimbra, 1811, before I returned to England"

('Life', p. 21). To his memory Byron wrote the lines in 'Childe Harold', Canto I. stanza xci.]



93.—To J. Ridge.

[Mr. Ridge, Newark.]

Dorant's Hotel, February 21st, 1808.

Mr. Ridge,—Something has occurred which will make considerable alteration in my new volume. You must go back and cut out the whole poem of 'Childish Recollections'. [1] Of course you will be surprized at this, and perhaps displeased, but it must be done. I cannot help its detaining you a month longer, but there will be enough in the volume without it, and as I am now reconciled to Dr. Butler I cannot allow my satire to appear against him, nor can I alter that part relating to him without spoiling the whole. You will therefore omit the whole poem. Send me an immediate answer to this letter but obey the directions. It is better that my reputation should suffer as a poet by the omission than as a man of honour by the insertion.

Etc., etc.,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: For "Childish Recollections," see 'Poems', vol.i. p.101. A previous letter, written to Ridge from Dorant's Hotel, January 9, 1808, illustrates the rapidity with which Byron's moods changed. In this case, the lines on "Euryalus" (Lord Delawarr: see page 41 [Letter 13], [Foot]note 1 [5]) were to be omitted:—

"Mr. Ridge,—In Childish Recollections omit the whole character of 'Euryalus', and insert instead the lines to 'Florio' as a part of the poem, and send me a proof in due course.

"Etc. etc.,

"BYRON.

"P.S.—The first line of the passage to be omitted begins 'Shall fair Euryalus,' etc., and ends at 'Toil for more;' omit the whole."]



CHAPTER III.

1808-1809.

'ENGLISH BARDS, AND SCOTCH REVIEWERS.'



94.—To the Rev. John Becher. [1]

Dorant's Hotel, Feb. 26, 1808.

MY DEAR BECHER,—Now for Apollo. I am happy that you still retain your predilection, and that the public allow me some share of praise. I am of so much importance that a most violent attack is preparing for me in the next number of the 'Edinburgh Review'. [2] This I had from the authority of a friend who has seen the proof and manuscript of the critique. You know the system of the Edinburgh gentlemen is universal attack. They praise none; and neither the public nor the author expects praise from them. It is, however, something to be noticed, as they profess to pass judgment only on works requiring the public attention. You will see this when it comes out;—it is, I understand, of the most unmerciful description; but I am aware of it, and hope 'you' will not be hurt by its severity.

Tell Mrs. Byron not to be out of humour with them, and to prepare her mind for the greatest hostility on their part. It will do no injury whatever, and I trust her mind will not be ruffled. They defeat their object by indiscriminate abuse, and they never praise except the partisans of Lord Holland and Co. [3] It is nothing to be abused when Southey, Moore, Lauderdale, Strangford, and Payne Knight, share the same fate. [4]

I am sorry—but "Childish Recollections" must be suppressed during this edition. I have altered, at your suggestion, the obnoxious allusions in the sixth stanza of my last ode.

And now, my dear Becher, I must return my best acknowledgments for the interest you have taken in me and my poetical bantlings, and I shall ever be proud to show how much I esteem the advice and the adviser.

Believe me, most truly, etc.



[Footnote 1: The Rev. John Thomas Becher (1770-1848), educated at Westminster and Christ Church, Oxford, was appointed Vicar of Rumpton, Notts., and Midsomer Norton, 1801; Prebendary of Southwell in 1818; and chairman of Newark Quarter Sessions in 1816. In all matters relating to the condition of the poor he made himself an acknowledged authority. He was the originator of a house of correction, a Friendly Society, and a workhouse at Southwell. He was one of the "supervisors" appointed to organize the Milbank Penitentiary, which was opened in June, 1816. On Friendly Societies he published three works (1824, 1825, and 1826), in which, 'inter alia', he sought to prove that labourers, paying sixpence a week from the time they were twenty, could secure not only sick-pay, but an annuity of five shillings a week at the age of sixty-five. His 'Anti-Pauper System' (1828) pointed to indoor relief as the true cure to pauperism. It was by Becher's advice that Byron destroyed his 'Fugitive Pieces'. No one who has read the silly verses which Becher condemned, can doubt that the counsel was wise (see Byron's Lines to Becher, 'Poems', vol. i. pp. 112-114, 114-116, 247-251). The following are the lines in which Becher expostulated with Byron on the mischievous tendency of his verses:—

"Say, Byron! why compel me to deplore Talents designed for choice poetic lore, Deigning to varnish scenes, that shun the day, With guilty lustre, and with amorous lay? Forbear to taint the Virgin's spotless mind, In Power though mighty, be in Mercy kind, Bid the chaste Muse diffuse her hallowed light, So shall thy Page enkindle pure delight, Enhance thy native worth, and proudly twine, With Britain's Honors, those that are divine."

[Footnote 2: See, for the Review itself, Appendix II.

"As an author," writes Byron to Hobhouse, February 27, 1808, "I am cut to atoms by the E——-'Review;' it is just out, and has completely demolished my little fabric of fame. This is rather scurvy treatment for a Whig Review; but politics and poetry are different things, and I am no adept in either. I therefore submit in silence."

Among the less sentimental effects of this Review upon Byron's mind, he used to mention that, on the day he read it, he drank three bottles of claret to his own share after dinner; that nothing, however, relieved him till he had given vent to his indignation in rhyme, and that "after the first twenty lines, he felt himself considerably better" (Moore, 'Life', p. 69).

"I was sitting with Charles Lamb," H. Crabb Robinson told De Morgan, "when Wordsworth came in, with fume in his countenance and the 'Edinburgh Review' in his hand.

'I have no patience with these Reviewers,' he said; 'here is a young man, a lord, and a minor, it appears, who publishes a little volume of poetry; and these fellows attack him, as if no one may write poetry unless he lives in a garret. The young man will do something, if he goes on.'

When I became acquainted with Lady Byron, I told her this story, and she said,

'Ah! if Byron had known that, he would never have attacked Wordsworth. He once went out to dinner where Wordsworth was to be; when he came home, I said,

"Well, how did the young poet get on with the old one?"

"To tell you the truth," said he, "I had but one feeling from the beginning of the visit to the end—'reverence!'"'"

('Diary,' iii. 488.)]

[Footnote 3: That is to say, the 'Edinburgh Review' praised only Whigs. Henry Richard Vassall Fox, third Lord Holland (1773-1840), the "nephew of Fox, and friend of Grey," married, in 1797, Elizabeth Vassall, the divorced wife of Sir Godfrey Webster. He held the office of Lord Privy Seal in the Ministry of All the Talents (October, 1806, to March, 1807). During the long exclusion of the Whigs from office (1807-32), when there seemed as little chance of a Whig Administration as of "a thaw in Nova Zembla," Holland, in the House of Lords, supported Catholic Emancipation, advocated the emancipation of slaves, opposed the detention of Napoleon as a prisoner of war, and moved the abolition of capital punishment for minor offences. From November, 1830, to his death, with brief intervals, he was Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, in the administrations of Lord Grey and of Lord Melbourne. Outside the House he kept the party together by his great social gifts. An admirable talker, 'raconteur', and mimic, with a wit's relish for wit, the charm of his good temper was irresistible.

"In my whole experience of our race," said Lord Brougham, "I never saw such a temper, nor anything that at all resembled it"

('Statesmen of the Time of George III.', ed. 1843, 3rd series, p. 341). Greville speaks of

"his imperturbable temper, unflagging vivacity and spirit, his inexhaustible fund of anecdote, extensive information, sprightly wit"

('Memoirs', iii. 446). Leslie, in his 'Autobiographical Recollections' (vol. i. p. 100), adds the tribute that

"he was, without any exception, the very best-tempered man I have ever known."

Lord John Russell (preface to vol. vi. of the 'Life of Thomas Moore') says that

"he won without seeming to court, instructed without seeming to teach, and he amused without labouring to be witty."

George Ticknor ('Life', vol. i. p. 264)

"never met a man who so disarms opposition in discussion, as I have often seen him, without yielding an iota, merely by the unpretending simplicity and sincerity of his manner."

Sydney Smith ('Memoir of the Rev. Sydney Smith', chap. x. p. 187) considered that his

"career was one great, incessant, and unrewarded effort to resist oppression, promote justice, and restrain the abuse of power. He had an invincible hatred of tyranny and oppression, and the most ardent love of public happiness and attachment to public rights."

A lover of art, a scholar, a linguist, he wrote memoirs, satires, and verses, collected materials for a life of his uncle, Charles James Fox, and translated both from the Spanish and Italian. His 'Account of the Life and Writings of Lope Felix de Vega Carpio' (1806) was reviewed favourably by the 'Edinburgh Review' for October, 1806. Byron attacked him in 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers' (lines 540-559, and 'notes'), on the supposition that Lord Holland had instigated the article in the 'Edinburgh Review' on 'Hours of Idleness' (January, 1808). In 1812, learning his mistake, and hearing from Rogers that Lord and Lady Holland desired the satire to be withdrawn, he gave orders that the whole impression should be burned (see 'Introduction to English Sards, and Scotch Reviewers, Poems,' vol. i. p. 294). In his 'Journal' (November 17, 1813) he writes,

"I have had a most kind letter from Lord Holland on 'The Bride of Abydos,' which he likes, and so does Lady H. This is very good-natured in both, from whom I do not deserve any quarter. Yet I 'did' think at the time, that my cause of enmity proceeded from Holland House, and am glad I was wrong, and wish I had not been in such a hurry with that confounded Satire, of which I would suppress even the memory; but people, now they can't get it, make a fuss, I verily believe out of contradiction."]

[Footnote 4: In the early numbers of the 'Edinburgh Review' reviews were published of Southey's 'Thalaba' and 'Madoc;' of Moore's 'Odes of Anacreon' and 'Poems;' of Lord Lauderdale's 'Inquiry into the Nature and Origin of Public Wealth;' of Lord Strangford's 'Translations from Camoens;' of Payne Knight's 'Principles of Taste.']



95.—To the Rev. John Becher.



Dorant's, March 28, 1808.

I have lately received a copy of the new edition from Ridge, and it is high time for me to return my best thanks to you for the trouble you have taken in the superintendence. This I do most sincerely, and only regret that Ridge has not seconded you as I could wish,—at least, in the bindings, paper, etc., of the copy he sent to me. Perhaps those for the public may be more respectable in such articles.

You have seen the 'Edinburgh Review', of course. I regret that Mrs. Byron is so much annoyed. For my own part, these "paper bullets of the brain" have only taught me to stand fire; and, as I have been lucky enough upon the whole, my repose and appetite are not discomposed. Pratt, [1] the gleaner, author, poet, etc., etc., addressed a long rhyming epistle to me on the subject, by way of consolation; but it was not well done, so I do not send it, though the name of the man might make it go down. The E. Rs. have not performed their task well; at least the literati tell me this; and I think I could write a more sarcastic critique on myself than any yet published. For instance, instead of the remark,—ill-natured enough, but not keen,—about Macpherson, I (quoad reviewers) could have said, "Alas, this imitation only proves the assertion of Dr. Johnson, that many men, women, and children, could write such poetry as Ossian's." [2]

I am thin and in exercise. During the spring or summer I trust we shall meet. I hear Lord Ruthyn leaves Newstead in April. As soon as he quits it for ever, I wish much you would take a ride over, survey the mansion, and give me your candid opinion on the most advisable mode of proceeding with regard to the house. Entre nous, I am cursedly dipped; my debts, every thing inclusive, will be nine or ten thousand before I am twenty-one. But I have reason to think my property will turn out better than general expectation may conceive. Of Newstead I have little hope or care; but Hanson, my agent, intimated my Lancashire property was worth three Newsteads. I believe we have it hollow; though the defendants are protracting the surrender, if possible, till after my majority, for the purpose of forming some arrangement with me, thinking I shall probably prefer a sum in hand to a reversion. Newstead I may sell;—perhaps I will not,—though of that more anon. I will come down in May or June.

Yours most truly, etc.



[Footnote 1: Samuel Jackson Pratt (1749-1814), actor, itinerant lecturer, poet of the Cruscan school, tragedian, and novelist, published a large number of volumes. His 'Gleanings' in England, Holland, Wales, and Westphalia attained some reputation. His 'Sympathy, a Poem' (1788) passed through several editions. His stage-name, as well as his 'nom de plume', was Courtney Melmoth. He was the discoverer and patron of the cobbler-poet, Blacket (see also 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers', line 319, note 2).]

[Footnote 2: "Dr. Johnson's reply to the friend who asked him if any man 'living' could have written such a book, is well known: 'Yes, sir; many men, many women, and many children.' I inquired of him myself if this story was authentic, and he said it was" (Mrs. Piozzi, 'Johnsoniana', p. 84).—[Moore.]]



96.—To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.

[Six Mile Bottom, Newmarket, Cambridge.]

Dorant's, [Tuesday], April 26th, 1808.

My dear Augusta,—I regret being compelled to trouble you again, but it is necessary I should request you will inform Col. Leigh, if the P's consent is not obtained in a few days, it will be of little service to Mr. Wallace, who is ordered to join the 17th in ten days, the Regiment is stationed in the East Indies, and, as he has already served there nine years, he is unwilling to return. I shall feel particularly obliged by Col. Leigh's interference, as I think from his influence the Prince's consent might be obtained. I am not much in the habit of asking favours, or pressing exertion, but, on this occasion, my wish to save Wallace must plead my excuse.

I have been introduced to Julia Byron [1] by Trevannion at the Opera; she is pretty, but I do not admire her; there is too much Byron in her countenance, I hear she is clever, a very great defect in a woman, who becomes conceited in course; altogether I have not much inclination to improve the acquaintance.

I have seen my old friend George, [1] who will prove the best of the family, and will one day be Lord B. I do not much care how soon.

Pray name my nephew after his uncle; it must be a nephew, (I won't have a niece,) I will make him my heir, for I shall never marry, unless I am ruined, and then his inheritance would not be great.

George will have the title and his laurels; my property, (if any is left in five years time,) I can leave to whom I please, and your son shall be the legatee. Adieu.

Yours ever,

BYRON.

[Footnote 1: George Anson Byron, R.N. (1758-1793), second son of Admiral the Hon. John Byron, by his wife Sophia Trevanion, and brother of Byron's father, married Henrietta Charlotte Dallas, by whom he had a son, George, who was at this time in the Royal Navy, and in 1824 succeeded as seventh Lord Byron; and a daughter, Julia Byron, who married, in 1817, the Rev. Robert Heath. Of his cousin George, Byron writes in his 'Journal' for November 30, 1813 ('Life,' p. 209):

"I like George much more than most people like their heirs. He is a fine fellow, and every inch a sailor."

Again on December 1, 1813, he says,

"I hope he will be an admiral, and, perhaps, Lord Byron into the bargain. If he would but marry, I would engage never to marry myself, or cut him out of the heirship."

George Anson Byron and his wife both died in 1793.]



97.—To the Rev. John Becher.

Newstead Abbey, Notts., Sept. 14, 1808.

My dear Becher,—I am much obliged to you for your inquiries, and shall profit by them accordingly. I am going to get up a play here; the hall will constitute a most admirable theatre. I have settled the 'dram. pers.,' and can do without ladies, as I have some young friends who will make tolerable substitutes for females, and we only want three male characters, beside Mr. Hobhouse and myself, for the play we have fixed on, which will be the 'Revenge.' [1] Pray direct Nicholson the carpenter to come over to me immediately, and inform me what day you will dine and pass the night here.

Believe me, etc.



[Footnote 1: Young's tragedy (1721), from which one of Byron's Harrow speeches in the character of "Zanga" was taken (see page 27 [Letter 10], [Foot]note 1).]



98.—To John Jackson. [1]

N. A., Notts., September 18, 1808.

Dear Jack,—I wish you would inform me what has been done by Jekyll, at No. 40, Sloane Square, concerning the pony I returned as unsound.

I have also to request you will call on Louch at Brompton, and inquire what the devil he meant by sending such an insolent letter to me at Brighton; and at the same time tell him I by no means can comply with the charge he has made for things pretended to be damaged.

Ambrose behaved most scandalously about the pony. You may tell Jekyll if he does not refund the money, I shall put the affair into my lawyer's hands. Five and twenty guineas is a sound price for a pony, and by God, if it costs me five hundred pounds, I will make an example of Mr. Jekyll, and that immediately, unless the cash is returned.

Believe me, dear Jack, etc.



[Footnote 1: John Jackson (1769-1845), better known as "Gentleman" Jackson, was champion of England from 1795 to 1803. His three fights were against Fewterel (1788), George Ingleston (1789), and Mendoza (1795). In his fight at Ingatestone with "George the Brewer," he slipped on the wet stage, and, falling, dislocated his ankle and broke his leg. His fight with Mendoza at Hornchurch, Essex, was decided in nine rounds. At the end of the third round "the odds rose two to one on Mendoza." In the fifth, Jackson "seized hold of his opponent by the hair, and served him out in that defenceless state till he fell to the ground." The fight was practically over, and the odds at once turned in favour of Jackson, who thenceforward had matters all his own way. Even if Mendoza had worn a wig, he probably would have succumbed to Jackson, who was a more powerful man with a longer reach, and as scientific, though not so ornamental, a boxer. In 1803 Jackson retired from the ring.

"I can see him now" ('Pugilistica,' vol. i. 98), "as I saw him in '84, walking down Holborn Hill towards Smithfield. He had on a scarlet coat worked in gold at the button-holes, ruffles, and frill of fine lace, a small white stock, no collar (they were not then invented), a looped hat with a broad black band, buff knee-breeches, and long silk strings, striped white silk stockings, pumps, and paste buckles; his waistcoat was pale blue satin, sprigged with white. It was impossible to look on his fine ample chest, his noble shoulders, his waist, (if anything too small,) his large, but not too large hips, ... his limbs, his balustrade calf and beautifully turned, but not over delicate ankle, his firm foot, and peculiarly small hand, without thinking that nature had sent him on earth as a model. On he went at a good five miles and a half an hour, the envy of all men, and the admiration of all women."

His rooms at 13, Bond Street, became the head-quarters of the Pugilistic Club, with whose initials, P.C., the ropes and stakes at prize-rings were marked (see page 99 [Letter 51], [Foot]note 1; and Pierce Egan's 'Life in London,' pp. 252-254). From 1803 to 1824, when he retired from the profession, he was, as Pierce Egan says of him (p. 254), unrivalled as "a teacher of the Art of 'self-defence.'" His character stood high. "From the highest to the lowest person in the Sporting World, his 'decision' is law."

"This gentleman," says Moore, in a note to 'Tom Crib's Memorial to Congress' (p. 13), "as he well deserves to be called, from the correctness of his conduct and the peculiar urbanity of his manners, forms that useful link between the amateurs and the professors of pugilism, which, when broken, it will be difficult, if not wholly impossible, to replace."

He was Byron's guest at Cambridge, Newstead, and Brighton; received from him many letters; and is described by him, in a note to 'Don Juan' (Canto XI. stanza xix.), as "my old friend and corporeal pastor and master." Jackson's monument in Brompton Cemetery, a couchant lion and a mourning athlete, was subscribed for "by several noblemen and gentlemen, to record their admiration of one whose excellence of heart and incorruptible worth endeared him to all who knew him."]



99.—To John Jackson.

N. A., Notts., October 4, 1808.

You will make as good a bargain as possible with this Master Jekyll, if he is not a gentleman. If he is a gentleman, inform me, for I shall take very different steps. If he is not, you must get what you can of the money, for I have too much business on hand at present to commence an action. Besides, Ambrose is the man who ought to refund,—but I have done with him. You can settle with L. out of the balance, and dispose of the bidets, etc., as you best can.

I should be very glad to see you here; but the house is filled with workmen, and undergoing a thorough repair. I hope, however, to be more fortunate before many months have elapsed.

If you see Bold Webster, [1] remember me to him, and tell him I have to regret Sydney, who has perished, I fear, in my rabbit warren, for we have seen nothing of him for the last fortnight. Adieu. [2]

Believe me, etc.



[Footnote 1: Sir Godfrey Vassal Webster (1788-1836).]

[Footnote 2: A third letter to Jackson, written from Newstead, December 12, 1808, runs as follows:—

"My Dear Jack,—You will get the greyhound from the owner at any price, and as many more of the same breed (male or female) as you can collect.

"Tell D'Egville his dress shall be returned—I am obliged to him for the pattern. I am sorry you should have so much trouble, but I was not aware of the difficulty of procuring the animals in question. I shall have finished part of my mansion in a few weeks, and, if you can pay me a visit at Christmas, I shall be very glad to see you.

Believe me, etc."

In a bill, for 1808, sent in to Byron by Messrs. Finn and Johnson, tailors, of Nottingham, appears the following item: "Masquerade Jackett with belt and rich Turban, L11:9:6." This is probably the dress made from d'Egville's pattern.

James d'Egville learned dancing from Gaetano Vestris, well known at the Court of Frederick the Great, and from Gardel, the Court teacher of Marie Antoinette. He, his brother Louis, and his sister Madame Michau, were the most famous teachers of the day in England. The real name of the family was Hervey; that of d'Egville was assumed for professional purposes. James d'Egville enjoyed a great reputation, both as an actor and a dancer, in Paris and London. He was Acting-Manager and Director of the King's Theatre (October, 1807, to January, 1808), but was dismissed, owing to a disagreement between the managers, in the course of which he was accused of French proclivities and republican principles (see Waters's 'Opera-Glass', pp. 133-145). A man of taste and cultivation, he produced some musical extravaganzas and ballets; 'e.g. Don Quichotte ou les Noces de Gamache, L'Elevement d'Adonis, The Rape of Dejanira', etc.

A coloured print, in the possession of his great-nephew, Mr. Louis d'Egville, represents him, with Deshayes, in one of his most successful appearances, the ballet-pantomime of 'Achille et Deidamie'. He was an enthusiastic sportsman.]



100.—To his Mother.

Newstead Abbey, Notts, October 7, 1808.

Dear Madam,—I have no beds for the Hansons or any body else at present. The Hansons sleep at Mansfield. I do not know that I resemble Jean Jacques Rousseau. [1] I have no ambition to be like so illustrious a madman—but this I know, that I shall live in my own manner, and as much alone as possible. When my rooms are ready I shall be glad to see you: at present it would be improper, and uncomfortable to both parties. You can hardly object to my rendering my mansion habitable, notwithstanding my departure for Persia in March (or May at farthest), since you will be tenant till my return; and in case of any accident (for I have already arranged my will to be drawn up the moment I am twenty-one), I have taken care you shall have the house and manor for life, besides a sufficient income. So you see my improvements are not entirely selfish. As I have a friend here, we will go to the Infirmary Ball on the 12th; we will drink tea with Mrs. Byron [2] at eight o'clock, and expect to see you at the ball. If that lady will allow us a couple of rooms to dress in, we shall be highly obliged:—if we are at the ball by ten or eleven, it will be time enough, and we shall return to Newstead about three or four. Adieu.

Believe me, yours very truly,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: In Byron's 'Detached Thoughts', quoted by Moore ('Life', p. 72), he thus refers to the comparison with Rousseau:—

"My mother, before I was twenty, would have it that I was like Rousseau, and Madame de Stael used to say so too in 1813, and the 'Edinburgh Review' has something of the sort in its critique on the fourth canto of 'Childe Harold'. I can't see any point of resemblance:—he wrote prose, I verse: he was of the people; I of the aristocracy: he was a philosopher; I am none: he published his first work at forty; I mine at eighteen: his first essay brought him universal applause; mine the contrary: he married his housekeeper; I could not keep house with my wife: he thought all the world in a plot against him; my little world seems to think me in a plot against it, if I may judge by their abuse in print and coterie: he liked botany; I like flowers, herbs, and trees, but know nothing of their pedigrees: he wrote music; I limit my knowledge of it to what I catch by ear—I never could learn any thing by study, not even a language—it was all by rote and ear, and memory: he had a bad memory; I had, at least, an excellent one (ask Hodgson the poet—a good judge, for he has an astonishing one): he wrote with hesitation and care; I with rapidity, and rarely with pains: he could never ride, nor swim, nor 'was cunning of fence;' I am an excellent swimmer, a decent, though not at all a dashing, rider, (having staved in a rib at eighteen, in the course of scampering,) and was sufficient of fence, particularly of the Highland broadsword,—not a bad boxer, when I could keep my temper, which was difficult, but which I strove to do ever since I knocked down Mr. Purling, and put his knee-pan out (with the gloves on), in Angelo's and Jackson's rooms in 1806, during the sparring, —and I was, besides, a very fair cricketer,—one of the Harrow eleven, when we played against Eton in 1805. Besides, Rousseau's way of life, his country, his manners, his whole character, were so very different, that I am at a loss to conceive how such a comparison could have arisen, as it has done three several times, and all in rather a remarkable manner. I forgot to say that he was also short-sighted, and that hitherto my eyes have been the contrary, to such a degree that, in the largest theatre of Bologna, I distinguished and read some busts and inscriptions, painted near the stage, from a box so distant and so darkly lighted, that none of the company (composed of young and very bright-eyed people, some of them in the same box,) could make out a letter, and thought it was a trick, though I had never been in that theatre before.

"Altogether, I think myself justified in thinking the comparison not well founded. I don't say this out of pique, for Rousseau was a great man; and the thing, if true, were flattering enough;—but I have no idea of being pleased with the chimera."]

[Footnote 2: The Hon. Mrs. George Byron, 'nee' Frances Levett, Byron's great-aunt, widow of the Hon. George Byron, fourth brother of William, fifth Lord Byron.]



101.—To his Mother.

Newstead Abbey, November 2, 1808.

DEAR MOTHER,—If you please, we will forget the things you mention. I have no desire to remember them. When my rooms are finished, I shall be happy to see you; as I tell but the truth, you will not suspect me of evasion. I am furnishing the house more for you than myself, and I shall establish you in it before I sail for India, which I expect to do in March, if nothing particularly obstructive occurs. I am now fitting up the green drawing-room; the red for a bed-room, and the rooms over as sleeping-rooms. They will be soon completed;—at least I hope so.

I wish you would inquire of Major Watson (who is an old Indian) what things will be necessary to provide for my voyage. I have already procured a friend to write to the Arabic Professor at Cambridge, [1] for some information I am anxious to procure. I can easily get letters from government to the ambassadors, consuls, etc., and also to the governors at Calcutta and Madras. I shall place my property and my will in the hands of trustees till my return, and I mean to appoint you one. From Hanson I have heard nothing—when I do, you shall have the particulars.

After all, you must own my project is not a bad one. If I do not travel now, I never shall, and all men should one day or other. I have at present no connections to keep me at home; no wife, or unprovided sisters, brothers, etc. I shall take care of you, and when I return I may possibly become a politician. A few years' knowledge of other countries than our own will not incapacitate me for that part. If we see no nation but our own, we do not give mankind a fair chance;—it is from experience, not books, we ought to judge of them. There is nothing like inspection, and trusting to our own senses.

Yours, etc.



[Footnote 1: The Rev. John Palmer, Fellow of St. John's, Adam's Professor of Arabic (1804-19).]



102.—To Francis Hodgson. [1]

Newstead Abbey, Notts., Nov. 3, 1808.

My Dear Hodgson,—I expected to have heard ere this the event of your interview with the mysterious Mr. Haynes, my volunteer correspondent; however, as I had no business to trouble you with the adjustment of my concerns with that illustrious stranger, I have no right to complain of your silence.

You have of course seen Drury, [2] in all the pleasing palpitations of anticipated wedlock. Well! he has still something to look forward to, and his present extacies are certainly enviable. "Peace be with him and with his spirit," and his flesh also, at least just now ...

Hobhouse and your humble are still here. Hobhouse hunts, etc., and I do nothing; we dined the other day with a neighbouring Esquire (not Collet of Staines), and regretted your absence, as the Bouquet of Staines was scarcely to be compared to our last "feast of reason." You know, laughing is the sign of a rational animal; so says Dr. Smollett. I think so, too, but unluckily my spirits don't always keep pace with my opinions. I had not so much scope for risibility the other day as I could have wished, for I was seated near a woman, to whom, when a boy, I was as much attached as boys generally are, and more than a man should be. [3] I knew this before I went, and was determined to be valiant, and converse with sang froid; but instead I forgot my valour and my nonchalance, and never opened my lips even to laugh, far less to speak, and the lady was almost as absurd as myself, which made both the object of more observation than if we had conducted ourselves with easy indifference. You will think all this great nonsense; if you had seen it, you would have thought it still more ridiculous. What fools we are! We cry for a plaything, which, like children, we are never satisfied with till we break open, though like them we cannot get rid of it by putting it in the fire.

I have tried for Gifford's Epistle to Pindar,[4] and the bookseller says the copies were cut up for waste paper; if you can procure me a copy I shall be much obliged. Adieu!

Believe me, my dear Sir, yours ever sincerely,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: Francis Hodgson (1781-1852), educated at Eton (1794-99) and at King's College, Cambridge, Scholar (1799), Fellow (1802), hesitated between literature and the bar as his profession. For three years he was a private tutor, for one (1806) a master at Eton. In 1807 he became a resident tutor at King's. It was not till 1812 that he decided to take orders. Two years later he married Miss Tayler, a sister of Mrs. Henry Drury, and took a country curacy. In 1816 he was given the Eton living of Bakewell, in Derbyshire, became Archdeacon of Derby in 1836, and in 1840 Provost of Eton. At Eton he died December 29, 1852.

Hodgson's literary facility was extraordinary. He rhymed with an ease which almost rivals that of Byron, and from 1807 to 1818 he poured out quantities of verse, English and Latin, original and translated, besides writing articles for the 'Quarterly', the 'Monthly', and the 'Critical' Reviews. He published his 'Translation of Juvenal' in 1807, in which he was assisted by Drury and Merivale; 'Lady Jane Grey', a Tale; and other Poems (1809); 'Sir Edgar, a Tale' (1810); 'Leaves of Laurel' (1812); 'Charlemagne, an Epic Poem' (1815), translated from the original of Lucien Bonaparte, Prince of Canino, by S. Butler and Francis Hodgson; 'The Friends, a Poem in Four Books; Mythology for Versification' (1831); 'A Charge, as Archdeacon of Derby' (1837); 'Sermons' (1846); and other works.

His acquaintance with Byron began in 1807, when Byron was meditating 'British Bards', and Hodgson, provoked by a review of his 'Juvenal' in the 'Edinburgh Review', was composing his 'Gentle Alterative prepared for the Reviewers', which appears on pp. 56, 57 of 'Lady Jane Grey'. There are some curious points of resemblance between the two poems, though Hodgson's lines can hardly be compared for force and sting to 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers'. Like Byron (see 'English Bards, etc'., line 513, note 7), he makes merry over the blunder of the 'Edinburgh' reviewer, who, in an article on Payne Knight's 'Principles of Taste', severely criticized some Greek lines which he attributed to Knight, but which, in fact, were by Pindar:—

"And when he frown'd on Kn—'s erroneous Greek, Bad him in Pindar's page that error seek."

Like Byron also, he attributes the blunder to Hallam, and speaks of "Hallam's baffled art." The article was written by Lord Holland's physician, Dr. Allen, who, according to Sydney Smith, had "the creed of a philosopher and the legs of a clergyman." Like Byron also (see 'English Bards, etc'., line 820), he appeals to Gifford, who was an old family friend, to return to the fray:—

"Oh! for that voice, whose cadence loud and strong Drove Delia Crusca from the field of song— And with a force that guiltier fools should feel, Rack'd a vain butterfly on Satire's wheel."

In a note appended to the words in his satire—"Like clowns detest nobility"—he refers to the 'Edinburgh's' treatment of Byron's verse.

The link thus established between Byron and Hodgson grew stronger for the next few years. Hodgson suppressed Moore's challenge to the author of 'English Bards'; was Byron's guest at Newstead (see page 179 [Letter 92], in [Foot]note [further down]); pleaded with him on the subject of religion; translated his lines, "I would I were a careless child," into Latin verse ('Lady Jane Grey', p. 94); addressed him in poetry, as, for instance, in the "Lines to a Friend going abroad" ('Sir Edgar', p. 173). Byron, on his side, seems to have been sincerely attached to Hodgson, to whom he left, by his first will (1811), one-third of his personal goods, and in 1813 gave L1000 to enable him to marry. Hodgson corresponded with Mrs. Leigh and with Miss Milbanke, afterwards Lady Byron, endeavoured to heal the breach between husband and wife, and was one of the mourners at Hucknall Torkard Church.

In Haydon's 'Table-Talk' (vol. ii. pp. 367-8) is recorded a conversation with Hobhouse on the subject of Hodgson. Haydon's account of Hobhouse's words is confused; but he definitely asserts that Hodgson's life was dissipated, and insinuates that he perverted Byron's character. Part of the explanation is probably this: Hodgson's friend, the Rev. Robert Bland, kept a mistress, described as a woman of great personal and mental attraction. He asked Hodgson, during his absence on the Continent, to visit the lady and send him frequent news of her. Hodgson did so, with the result that, at Bland's return, the lady refused to see him. When Byron came back from his Eastern tour, he received a frantic letter from Bland, telling him that Hodgson had stolen her love. To this Byron refers in his letter to Harness, December 15, 1811, and probably told an embellished story to Hobhouse. But Hodgson himself warmly repudiated the charge; and there is no reason to think that his version of the affair is not the truth.]

[Footnote 2: The Rev. Henry Drury married, December 20, 1808, Ann Caroline, daughter of Archdale Wilson Tayler, of Boreham Wood, Herts. Their five sons were all educated at Harrow: Henry, Archdeacon of Wilts and editor of 'Arundines Cami' (1841); Byron, Vice-Admiral R.N.; Benjamin Heath, Vice-President of Caius College, Cambridge; Heber, Colonel in the Madras Army; Charles Curtis, General of the Bengal Staff Corps (see also page 41 [Letter 14], [Foot]note 2 [1]).]

[Footnote 3: Mrs. Chaworth Musters (see Byron's lines, "Well! thou art happy," 'Poems', vol. i. pp. 277-279).]

[Footnote 4: William Gifford (1756-1826), a self-taught scholar, first a ploughboy, then boy on board a Brixham coaster, afterwards shoemaker's apprentice, was sent by friends to Exeter College, Oxford (1779-81). In the 'Baviad' (1794) and the 'Maeviad' (1795) he attacked many of the smaller writers of the day, who were either silly, like the Delia Cruscan school, or discreditable, like Williams, who wrote as "Anthony Pasquin." In his 'Epistle to Peter Pindar' (1800) he succeeds in laying bare the true character of John Wolcot. As editor of the 'Anti-Jacobin, or Weekly Examiner' (November, 1797, to July, 1798), he supported the political views of Canning and his friends. As editor of the 'Quarterly Review', from its foundation (February, 1809) to his resignation in September, 1824, he did yeoman's service to sound literature by his good sense and adherence to the best models. It was a period when all criticism was narrow, and, to some degree, warped by political prejudice. In these respects, Gifford's work may not have risen above—it certainly did not fall below—the highest standard of contemporary criticism. His editions of 'Massinger' (1805), which superseded that of Monck Mason and Davies (1765), of 'Ben Jonson' (1816), of 'Ford' (1827), are valuable. To his translation of 'Juvenal' (1802) is prefixed his autobiography. His translation of 'Persius' appeared in 1821. To Gifford, Byron usually paid the utmost deference.

"Any suggestion of yours, even if it were conveyed," he writes to him, in 1813, "in the less tender text of the 'Baviad,' or a Monk Mason note to Massinger, would be obeyed."

See also his letter (September 7, 1811), in which he calls Gifford his "Magnus Apollo," and values his praise above the gems of Samarcand.

"He was," says Sir Walter Scott ('Diary,' January 18, 1827), "a little man, dumpled up together, and so ill-made as to seem almost deformed, but with a singular expression of talent in his countenance."

Byron was attracted to Gifford, partly by his devotion to the classical models of literature, partly by the outspoken frankness of his literary criticism, partly also, perhaps, by his physical deformity.



103.—To John Hanson.

Newstead Abbey, Notts., November 18th, 1808.

Dear Sir,—I am truly glad to hear your health is reinstated. As for my affairs I am sure you will do your best, and, though I should be glad to get rid of my Lancashire property for an equivalent in money, I shall not take any steps of that nature without good advice and mature consideration.

I am (as I have already told you) going abroad in the spring; for this I have many reasons. In the first place, I wish to study India and Asiatic policy and manners. I am young, tolerably vigorous, abstemious in my way of living; I have no pleasure in fashionable dissipation, and I am determined to take a wider field than is customary with travellers. If I return, my judgment will be more mature, and I shall still be young enough for politics. With regard to expence, travelling through the East is rather inconvenient than expensive: it is not like the tour of Europe, you undergo hardship, but incur little hazard of spending money. If I live here I must have my house in town, a separate house for Mrs. Byron; I must keep horses, etc., etc. When I go abroad I place Mrs. Byron at Newstead (there is one great expence saved), I have no horses to keep. A voyage to India will take me six months, and if I had a dozen attendants cannot cost me five hundred pounds; and you will agree with me that a like term of months in England would lead me into four times that expenditure. I have written to Government for letters and permission of the Company, so you see I am serious.

You honour my debts; they amount to perhaps twelve thousand pounds, and I shall require perhaps three or four thousand at setting out, with credit on a Bengal agent. This you must manage for me. If my resources are not adequate to the supply I must sell, but not Newstead. I will at least transmit that to the next Lord. My debts must be paid, if possible, in February. I shall leave my affairs to the care of trustees, of whom, with your acquiescence, I shall name you one, Mr. Parker another, and two more, on whom I am not yet determined.

Pray let me hear from you soon. Remember me to Mrs. Hanson, whom I hope to see on her return. Present my best respects to the young lady, and believe me, etc.,

BYRON.



104.—To Francis Hodgson.

Newstead Abbey, Notts., Nov. 27, 1808.

My Dear Sir,—Boatswain [1] is to be buried in a vault waiting for myself. I have also written an epitaph, which I would send, were it not for two reasons: one is, that it is too long for a letter; and the other, that I hope you will some day read it on the spot where it will be engraved.

You discomfort me with the intelligence of the real orthodoxy of the Arch-fiend's name, [2] but alas! it must stand with me at present; if ever I have an opportunity of correcting, I shall liken him to Geoffrey of Monmouth, a noted liar in his way, and perhaps a more correct prototype than the Carnifex of James II.

I do not think the composition of your poem "a sufficing reason" for not keeping your promise of a Christmas visit. Why not come? I will never disturb you in your moments of inspiration; and if you wish to collect any materials for the scenery?,[3] Hardwicke (where Mary was confined for several years) is not eight miles distant, and, independent of the interest you must take in it as her vindicator, is a most beautiful and venerable object of curiosity. I shall take it very ill if you do not come; my mansion is improving in comfort, and, when you require solitude, I shall have an apartment devoted to the purpose of receiving your poetical reveries.

I have heard from our Drury; he says little of the Row, which I regret: indeed I would have sacrificed much to have contributed in any way (as a schoolboy) to its consummation; but Butler survives, and thirteen boys have been expelled in vain. Davies is not here, but Hobhouse hunts as usual, and your humble servant "drags at each remove a lengthened chain." I have heard from his Grace of Portland [4] on the subject of my expedition: he talks of difficulties; by the gods! if he throws any in my way I will next session ring such a peal in his ears,

That he shall wish the fiery Dane Had rather been his guest again. [5]

You do not tell me if Gifford is really my commentator: it is too good to be true, for I know nothing would gratify my vanity so much as the reality; even the idea is too precious to part with.

I shall expect you here; let me have no more excuses. Hobhouse desires his best remembrance. We are now lingering over our evening potations. I have extended my letter further than I ought, and beg you will excuse it; on the opposite page I send you some stanzas [6] I wrote off on being questioned by a former flame as to my motives for quitting this country. You are the first reader. Hobhouse hates everything of the kind, therefore I do not show them to him. Adieu!

Believe me, yours very sincerely,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: Boatswain, the Newfoundland dog, died November 18, 1808. (For Byron's inscriptions in prose and verse, see 'Poems', vol. i. p. 280.)]

[Footnote 2: Byron at first thought that Jeffrey, the editor of the 'Edinburgh Review', spelt his name in the same way as the Judge Jeffreys of the Bloody Assizes. He probably writes "orthodoxy" for "orthography" as a joke. (See the lines quoted from 'British Bards' in notes to 'English. Bards, etc.', line 439, note 2.)]

[Footnote 3: It is stated that Hodgson was writing a poem on Mary Queen of Scots ('Life of Rev. Francis Hodgson', vol. i. p. 107). No such poem was apparently ever published. In Hodgson's 'Lady Jane Grey', Queen Mary of England plays a part; hence, possibly, the mistake.]

[Footnote 4: Byron asked the Duke of Portland to procure him "permission from the E.I. Directors to pass through their settlements." The duke replied, in effect, that Byron trespassed on his time and patience. So Byron at least took his answer (see 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers,' line 1016 and note 2).]

[Footnote 5: 'Marmion', Canto II. stanza xxxi.]

[Footnote 6: See stanzas "To a Lady on being asked my Reason for Quitting England in the Spring" ('Poems', vol. i. p. 282).]



105.—To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.

[Ld. Chichester's, Stratton Street, London.]

Newstead Abbey, Notts., [Wednesday], Novr. 30th, 1808.

My Dearest Augusta,—I return you my best thanks for making me an uncle, and forgive the sex this time; but the next must be a nephew. You will be happy to hear my Lancashire property is likely to prove extremely valuable; indeed my pecuniary affairs are altogether far superior to my expectations or any other person's. If I would sell, my income would probably be six thousand per annum; but I will not part at least with Newstead, or indeed with the other, which is of a nature to increase in value yearly. I am living here alone, which suits my inclinations better than society of any kind. Mrs. Byron I have shaken off for two years, and I shall not resume her yoke in future, I am afraid my disposition will suffer in your estimation; but I never can forgive that woman, or breathe in comfort under the same roof.

I am a very unlucky fellow, for I think I had naturally not a bad heart; but it has been so bent, twisted, and trampled on, that it has now become as hard as a Highlander's heelpiece.

I do not know that much alteration has taken place in my person, except that I am grown much thinner, and somewhat taller! I saw Col. Leigh at Brighton in July, where I should have been glad to have seen you; I only know your husband by sight, though I am acquainted with many of the Tenth. Indeed my relations are those whom I know the least, and in most instances, I am not very anxious to improve the acquaintance. I hope you are quite recovered, I shall be in town in January to take my seat, and will call, if convenient; let me hear from you before.

[Signature cut off, and over the page is, in Mrs. Leigh's writing, this endorsement: "Sent to Miss Alderson to go to Germany, May 29th, 1843."]



106.—To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.

[Ld. Chichester's, Stratton Street, London.]

Newstead Abbey, Notts., Decr. 14th, 1808.

My Dearest Augusta,—When I stated in my last, that my intercourse with the world had hardened my heart, I did not mean from any matrimonial disappointment, no, I have been guilty of many absurdities, but I hope in God I shall always escape that worst of evils, Marriage. I have no doubt there are exceptions, and of course include you amongst them, but you will recollect, that "exceptions only prove the Rule."

I live here much in my own manner, that is, alone, for I could not bear the company of my best friend, above a month; there is such a sameness in mankind upon the whole, and they grow so much more disgusting every day, that, were it not for a portion of Ambition, and a conviction that in times like the present we ought to perform our respective duties, I should live here all my life, in unvaried Solitude. I have been visited by all our Nobility and Gentry; but I return no visits. Joseph Murray is at the head of my household, poor honest fellow! I should be a great Brute, if I had not provided for him in the manner most congenial to his own feelings, and to mine. I have several horses, and a considerable establishment, but I am not addicted to hunting or shooting. I hate all field sports, though a few years since I was a tolerable adept in the polite arts of Foxhunting, Hawking, Boxing, etc., etc. My Library is rather extensive, (and as you perhaps know) I am a mighty Scribbler; I flatter myself I have made some improvements in Newstead, and, as I am independent, I am happy, as far as any person unfortunate enough to be born into this world, can be said to be so.

I shall be glad to hear from you when convenient, and beg you to believe me,

Very sincerely yours,

BYRON.



107.—To John Hanson.

Newstead Abbey, Notts., Dec. 17, 1808.

My Dear Sir,—I regret the contents of your letter as I think we shall be thrown on our backs from the delay. I do not know if our best method would not be to compromise if possible, as you know the state of my affairs will not be much bettered by a protracted and possibly unsuccessful litigation. However, I am and have been so much in the dark during the whole transaction that I am not a competent judge of the most expedient measures. I suppose it will end in my marrying a Golden Dolly [1] or blowing my brains out; it does not much matter which, the remedies are nearly alike. I shall be glad to hear from you further on the business. I suppose now it will be still more difficult to come to any terms. Have you seen Mrs. Massingberd, and have you arranged my Israelitish accounts? Pray remember me to Mrs. Hanson, to Harriet, and all the family, female and male.

Believe me also, yours very sincerely,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: Mrs. Byron also advised his marriage with an heiress. The following passage is taken from her letter to Hanson, January 30, 1809:—

"I was sorry I could not see you here. Byron told me he intended to put his servants on Board Wages at Newstead. I was very sorry to hear of the great expence the Newstead fete would put him to. I can see nothing but the Road to Ruin in all this, which grieves me to the heart and makes me still worse than I would otherwise be (unless, indeed, Coal Mines turn to Gold Mines), or that he mends his fortune in the old and usual way by marrying a Woman with two or three hundred thousand pounds. I have no doubt of his being a great speaker and a celebrated public character, and all that; but that won't add to his fortune, but bring on more expenses on him, and there is nothing to be had in this country to make a man rich in his line of life."

In another letter to Hanson, dated March 4, 1809, she returns to the same subject:—

"I have had a very dismal letter from my son, informing me that he is ruined. He wishes to borrow my money. This I shall be very ready to oblige him in, on such security as you approve. As it is my all, this is very necessary, and I am sure he would not wish to have it on any other terms. It cannot be paid up, however, under six months' notice. I wish he would take the debt of a thousand pounds, that I have been security for, on himself, and pay about eighty pounds he owes here.

I wish to God he would exert himself and retrieve his affairs. He must marry a Woman of fortune this spring; love matches is all nonsense. Let him make use of the Talents God has given him. He is an English Peer, and has all the privileges of that situation. What is this about proving his grandfather's marriage? I thought it had been in Lancashire. If it was not, it surely easily can be proved. Is nothing going forward concerning the Rochdale Property? I am sure, if I was Lord Byron, I would sell no estates to pay Jews; I only would pay what was lawful. Pray answer the note immediately, and answer all my questions concerning lending the money, the Rochdale property, and why B. don't or can't take his seat, which is very hard, and very provoking.

I am, Dear Sir, yours sincerely,

C. G. BYRON."]



108.—To Francis Hodgson.

Newstead Abbey, Notts., Dec. 17, 1808.

My Dear Hodgson,—I have just received your letter, and one from B. Drury, [1] which I would send, were it not too bulky to despatch within a sheet of paper; but I must impart the contents and consign the answer to your care. In the first place, I cannot address the answer to him, because the epistle is without date or direction; and in the next, the contents are so singular that I can scarce believe my optics, "which are made the fools of the other senses, or else worth all the rest."

A few weeks ago, I wrote to our friend Harry Drury of facetious memory, to request he would prevail on his brother at Eton to receive the son of a citizen in London well known unto me as a pupil; the family having been particularly polite during the short time I was with them, induced me to this application. "Now mark what follows," as somebody or Southey sublimely saith: on this day, the 17th December, arrives an epistle signed B. Drury, containing not the smallest reference to tuition or intuition, but a petition for Robert Gregson, [2] of pugilistic notoriety, now in bondage for certain paltry pounds sterling, and liable to take up his everlasting abode in Banco Regis. Had this letter been from any of my lay acquaintance, or, in short, from anyone but the gentleman whose signature it bears, I should have marvelled not. If Drury is serious, I congratulate pugilism on the acquisition of such a patron, and shall be happy to advance any sum necessary for the liberation of the captive Gregson; but I certainly hope to be certified from you or some reputable housekeeper of the fact, before I write to Drury on the subject. When I say the fact, I mean of the letter being written by Drury, not having any doubt as to the authenticity of the statement. The letter is now before me, and I keep it for your perusal. When I hear from you I shall address my answer to him, under your care; for as it is now the vacation at Eton, and the letter is without time or place, I cannot venture to consign my sentiments on so momentous a concern to chance.

To you, my dear Hodgson, I have not much to say. If you can make it convenient or pleasant to trust yourself here, be assured it will be both to me.



[Footnote 1: Benjamin Heath Drury (1782-1835), second son of the Headmaster of Harrow (see page 41 [Letter 14], [Foot]note 2 [1]), was a Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, and Assistant-master at Eton. Gronow ('Reminiscences', vol. i. pp. 209 and 233) says that Drury was "passionately devoted to theatricals," and, with his friend Knapp, frequently drove up to London after school-hours to sup with Edmund Kean and Arnold at Drury Lane or the Hummums in Covent Garden. On one occasion they took with them Lord Eldon's son, then a school-boy at Eton. After supper the party were "run in" by the watchmen, and bailed out at Bow Street by the Lord Chancellor's secretary.]

[Footnote 2: Bob Gregson (1778-1824), the big-boned, burly landlord of the Castle, Holborn, known as "Bob's Chop-house," was a familiar figure in the sporting world. When captain of the Liverpool and Wigan Packet, he established his reputation in Lancashire as a fighter. He stood 6 feet 1-1/2 inches in height, and weighed 15 stone 6 pounds. But, in spite of the eulogies of Pierce Egan—a low-caste Irishman, who was first a compositor, then a comedian, and afterwards a newspaper reporter (see Grantley Berkeley's 'My Life and Recollections', vol. i. pp. 107, 108)—Gregson had no science, and depended only on his strength, courage, and endurance. He was beaten by Gully at Six Mile Bottom in 1807, and again in 1808 at Markyate Street; also by Tom Cribb at Moulsey Hurst in 1808 ('Pugilistica', vol. i. pp. 237-241). Failing as landlord of the Castle, he set up a school of boxing at Dublin, where he afterwards kept "the Punch House," in Moor Street. He died at Liverpool in 1824. According to Egan ('Boxiana', vol. i. pp. 357, 358), Gregson "united Pugilism with Poetry." On this claim he adopted the letters "P.P." after his name. Egan gives some of his doggerel among "Prime Chaunts for the Fancy" ('ibid'., p. 358). Moore, in 'Tom Crib's Memorial to Congress', attributes to him his "Lines to Miss Grace Maddox" (pp. 75-77); "Ya-Hip, my Hearties!" (pp. 80-83); and "The Annual Pill" (pp. 84-86).]



109.—To John Hanson.

Newstead Abbey, Jan. 15th, 1809.

My Dear Sir,—I am much obliged by your kind invitation, but I wish you, if possible, to be here on the 22nd. [1] Your presence will be of great service, everything is prepared for your reception exactly as if I remained, and I think Hargreaves will be gratified by the appearance of the place, and the humours of the day. I shall on the first opportunity pay my respects to your family, and though I will not trespass on your hospitality on the 22nd, my obligation is not less for your agreeable offer, which on any other occasion would be immediately accepted, but I wish you much to be present at the festivities, and I hope you will add Charles to the party. Consider, as the Courtier says in the tragedy of Tom Thumb [2]—

"This is a day; your Majesties may boast of it, And since it never can come o'er, 'tis fit you make the most of it."

I shall take my seat as soon as circumstances will admit. I have not yet chosen my side in politics, nor shall I hastily commit myself with professions, or pledge my support to any men or measures, but though I shall not run headlong into opposition, I will studiously avoid a connection with ministry. I cannot say that my opinion is strongly in favour of either party; [3] on the one side we have the late underlings of Pitt, possessing all his ill fortune, without his talents; this may render their failure more excusable, but will not diminish the public contempt; on the other, we have the ill-assorted fragments of a worn-out minority; Mr. Windham with his coat twice turned, and my Lord Grenville who perhaps has more sense than he can make good use of; between the two and the shuttlecock of both, a Sidmouth, and the general football Sir F. Burdett, kicked at by all, and owned by none.

I shall stand aloof, speak what I think, but not often, nor too soon. I will preserve my independence, if possible, but if involved with a party, I will take care not to be the last or least in the ranks. As to patriotism, the word is obsolete, perhaps improperly, so, for all men in the Country are patriots, knowing that their own existence must stand or fall with the Constitution, yet everybody thinks he could alter it for the better, and govern a people, who are in fact easily governed, but always claim the privilege of grumbling. So much for Politics, of which I at present know little and care less; bye and bye, I shall use the senatorial privilege of talking, and indeed in such times, and in such a crew, it must be difficult to hold one's tongue.

Believe me, etc.,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: Byron's coming of age was celebrated at Newstead on January 22, 1809.]

[Footnote 2: See O'Hara's acting version of Fielding's Tom Thumb the Great, act i. sc. I—

"Doodle. A Day we never saw before; A Day of fun and drollery.

Noodle. That you may say, Their Majesties may boast of it; And since it never can come more, 'Tis fit they make the most of it."]

[Footnote 3: Lord Grenville (1759-1834) became First Lord of the Treasury; Lord Sidmouth, Lord Privy Seal; and William Windham, Secretary for War, in February, 1806. They, with Fox and his friends, formed the administration of "All the Talents," which in March, 1807, fell over the Roman Catholic question. They were succeeded by the Duke of Portland's Ministry, which included the "late underlings of Pitt,"—Perceval, Canning, Dundas, etc. "Weathercock" Windham, in the Ministry of "All the Talents," was responsible for the conduct of a war which, as leader of the so-called "New Opposition," he had vigorously opposed. Sir Francis Burdett's zeal for Parliamentary Reform involved him in hostility to both Whigs and Tories, who had combined to exclude him from Parliament after his election for Middlesex (1802-6). In 1807 he had been elected for Westminster.]



110.—To R. C. Dallas.

Reddish's Hotel, Jan. 25, 1809.

My Dear Sir,—My only reason for not adopting your lines is because they are your lines. [1] You will recollect that Lady Wortley Montague said to Pope: "No touching, for the good will be given to you, and the bad attributed to me." I am determined it shall be all my own, except such alterations as may be absolutely required; but I am much obliged by the trouble you have taken, and your good opinion.

The couplet on Lord C. [2] may be scratched out and the following inserted:

Roscommon! Sheffield! with your spirits fled, No future laurels deck a noble head. Nor e'en a hackney'd Muse will deign to smile On minor Byron, nor mature Carlisle.

This will answer the purpose of concealment. Now for some couplets on Mr. Crabbe, [3] which you may place after "Gifford, Sotheby, M'Niel:"

There be who say, in these enlightened days, That splendid lies are all the Poet's praise; That strained invention, ever on the wing, Alone impels the modern Bard to sing. 'Tis true that all who rhyme, nay, all who write, Shrink from that fatal word to genius, trite: Yet Truth will sometimes lend her noblest fires, And decorate the verse herself inspires. This fact in Virtue's name let Crabbe attest; Though Nature's sternest painter, yet the best.

I am sorry to differ with you with regard to the title, [4] but I mean to retain it with this addition: The British [the word "British" is struck through] English Bards and Scotch Reviewers; and if we call it a Satire, it will obviate the objection, as the Bards also were Welch. Your title is too humorous;—and as I know a little of——, I wish not to embroil myself with him, though I do not commend his treatment of——. I shall be glad to hear from you or see you, and beg you to believe me,

Yours very sincerely,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: Dallas (January 24, 1809) takes "the liberty of sending you some two dozen lines," etc.]

[Footnote 2: The couplet on Lord Carlisle, as it stood in 'British Bards', was—

"On one alone Apollo deigns to smile, And crowns a new Roscommon in Carlisle."

(See 'English Bards, etc.', lines 723, 'et seqq.'; see also line 927, note 2. For Lord Carlisle, see page 36, note 2.)]

[Footnote 3: For "Gifford, Sotheby, Macneil," see 'English Bards, etc'., line 818, and 'notes'. Dallas had written (January 24, 1809),

"I am sorry you have not found a place among the genuine sons of Apollo for Crabbe, who, in spite of something bordering on servility in his dedication, may surely rank with some you have admitted to his temple"

(see 'English Bards, etc'., lines 849-858).]

[Footnote 4: Dallas suggested as a title, 'The Parish Poor of Parnassus'.]



111.—To R. C. Dallas.

February 7, 1809.

My Dear Sir,—Suppose we have this couplet—

Though sweet the sound, disdain a borrow'd tone, Resign Achaia's lyre, and strike your own: [1]

or,

Though soft the echo, scorn a borrow'd tone, Resign Achaia's lyre, and strike your own.

So much for your admonition; but my note of notes, my solitary pun, [2] must not be given up—no, rather

"Let mightiest of all the beasts of chace That roam in woody Caledon"

come against me; my annotation must stand.

We shall never sell a thousand; then why print so many? Did you receive my yesterday's note? I am troubling you, but I am apprehensive some of the lines are omitted by your young amanuensis, to whom, however, I am infinitely obliged.

Believe me, yours very truly,

BYRON.



[Footnote 1: Dallas (February 6, 1809) objected to the rhyme in the couplet:—

"Translation's servile work at length disown, And quit Achaia's Muse to court your own."

(For the corrected couplet, see 'English Bards, etc'., lines 889, 890.)]

[Footnote 2: See 'English Bards, etc.', line 1016, note 2.]



112.—To R. C. Dallas.

February 11, 1809.

I wish you to call, if possible, as I have some alterations to suggest as to the part about Brougham. [1]

B.



[Footnote 1: See 'ibid.', line 524, note 2.]



113.—To R. C. Dallas.

February 12, 1809.

Excuse the trouble, but I have added two lines which are necessary to complete the poetical character of Lord Carlisle. [1]