existence I was ever, at home or abroad, in a situation so completely uprooting of present pleasure, or rational hope for the future, as this same. I say this, because I think so, and feel it. But I shall not sink under it the more for that mode of considering the question. I have made up my mind.

in the mean time I shall merely request a suspension of opinion. Your prefatory letter to 'Rimini' I accepted as it was meant, as a public compliment and a private kind ness. I am only sorry that it may perhaps operate agains you as an inducement, and, with some, a pretext for attack on the part of the political and personal enemies of both,


"By-the-way, however, you must not believe all you that this can be of much consequence, for ir the end hear on the subject; and don't attempt to defend me. the work must be judged by its merits, and, in that respect, you succeeded in that, it would be a mortal, or an immortal you are well armed. Murray tells me it is going on well, offence-who can bear refutation? I have but a very short and, you may depend upon it, there is a substratum of answer for those whom it concerns; and all the activity of poetry, which is a foundation for solid and durable fame. myself and some vigorous friends have not yet fixed on any The objections (if there be objections, for this is a pretangible ground or personage, on which or with whom I can sumption, and not an assumption) will be merely as to the discuss matters, in a summary way, with a fair pretext; mechanical part, and such, as I stated before, the usual though I nearly had nailed one yesterday, but he evaded by consequences of either novelty or revival. I desired Mur-what was judged by others--a satisfactory explanation. ray to forward to you a pamphlet with two things of mine I speak of circulators—against whom I have no enmity, in it, the most part of both of them, and of one in particular though I must act according to the common code of usage, written before others of my composing, which have preceded when I hit upon those of the serious order. them in publication; they are neither of them of much "Now for other matters-Poesy, for instance. Leigh pretension, nor intended for it. You will perhaps wonder Hunt's poem is a devilish good one-quaint, here and there, at my dwelling so much and so frequently on former subbut with the substratum of originality, and with poetry jects and scenes; but the fact is, that I found them fading about it that will stand the test. I do not say this because fast from my memory; and I was, at the same time, so he has inscribed it to me, which I am sorry for, as I should partial to their place, (and events connected with it,) that otherwise have begged you to review it in the Edinburgh. I have stamped them while I could, in such colours as I It is really deserving of much praise, and a favourable could trust to now, but might have confused and misapplied critique in the E. R. would but do it justice, and set it up hereafter, had I longer delayed the attempted delineation' before the public eye where it ought to be.

"How are you? and where? I have not the most distant idea what I am going to do myself, or with myself-or where or what. I had, a few weeks ago, some things to say, that would have made you laugh; but they tell me now that I must not laugh, and so I have been very serious -and am.

"I have not been very well-with a liver complaint-but am much better within the last fortnight, though still under latrical advice. I have latterly seen a little of







*I must go and dress to dine. My little girl is in the country, and, they tell me, is a very fine child, and now

nearly three months old. Lady Noel (iny mother-in-law,
or rather, at law) is at present overlooking it. Her daughter
(Miss Milbanke that was) is, I believe, in London with
her father. A Mrs. Charlmont,* (now a kind of house-
keeper and spy of Lady N.'s) who, in her better days, was
a washerwoman, is supposed to be-by the learned-very
much the occult cause of our late domestic discrepancies.
"In all this business, I am the sorriest for Sir Ralph.
He and I are equally punished, though magis pares quem
similes in our affliction. Yet it is hard for both to suffer

for the fault of one, and so it is-I shall be separated from
my wife; he will retain his.
"Ever, &c."



"March 8, 1816. "I rejoice in your promotion as Chairman and Charitable Steward, &c. &c. These be dignities which await only the virtuous. But then, recollect, you are six-andthirty, (I speak this enviously-not of your age, but the 'honour-love-obedience-troops of friends,' which accompany it,) and I have eight years good to run before I arrive at such hoary perfection; by which time,—if I am at all, it will probably be in a state of grace or progressing


"I must set you right in one point, however. The faut was not-no, nor even the misfortune,-in my 'choice (unless in choosing at all)-for 1 do not believe, and I must say it, in the very dregs of all this bitter business, that there amiable and agreeable being than Lady B. I never had, ever was a better, or even a brighter, a kinder, or a more. Where there is blame, it belongs to myself; and, if I cannot nor can have, any reproach to make her, while with me. redeem, I must bear it.

"Her nearest relatives are a *** -my circumstances have been and are in a state of great confusion-my health has been a good deal disordered, and my mind ill at ease for a considerable period. Such are the causes (I do not name them as excuses) which have frequently driven me into excess, and disqualified my temper for comfort. Something also may be attributed to the strange and desultory habits which, becoming my own master at an early age. have induced. I still, however, think that, if I had had a and scrambling about, over and through the world, may

"Feb. 26, 1816. "DEAR HUNT, "Your letter would have been answered before, had I not thought it probable that, as you were in town for a day or so, I should have seen you;-1 do n't mean this as a hint fair chance, by being placed in even a tolerable situation, I at reproach for not calling, but merely that of course I should have been very glad if you had called in your way there is nothing more to be said. At present-except my might have gone on fairly. But that seems hopeless, and home or abroad, as I always would have been, and always health, which is better (it is odd, but agitation or contest of shall be. With regard to the circumstances to which you

allude, there is no reason why you should not speak openly any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for to me on a subject already sufficiently rife in the mouths the time)—I have to battle with all kinds of unpleasantand minds of what is called 'the world.' Of the 'fifty renesses, including private and pecuniary difficulties, &c. &c. ports,' it follows that forty-nine must have more or less risk repeating it. It is nothing to bear the privations of "I believe 1 may have said this before to you,-but I error and exaggeration; but I am sorry to say, that on the main and essential point of an intended, and, it may be, an from its indignities. However, I have no quarrel with that adversity, or, more properly, ill fortune; but my pride recoils inevitable separation, I can contradict none. At present I shall say no more, but this is not from want of confidence thing. If my heart could have been broken, it would have same pride, which will, I think, buckler me through every been so years ago, and by events more afflicting than these

⚫ Mrs. Charlmout. See Poems, p. 195

"I agree with you (to turn from this topic to our shop) that I have written too much. The last things were, however, published very reluctantly by me, and for reasons I will explain when we meet. I know not why I have dwelt so much on the same scenes, except that I find them fading, or confusing (if such a word may be) in my memory, in the midst of present turbulence and pressure, and I felt anxious to stamp before the die was worn out. I now break it. With those countries, and events connected with them, all my really poetical feelings begin and end. Were I to try, I could make nothing of any other subject, and that I have apparently exhausted. Wo to him,' says Voltaire, who says all he could say on any subject.' There are some on which, perhaps, I could have said still more: but I leave them all, and not too soon.

that I was glad to do as Mackintosh and you suggested
about Mr. **. It occurs to me now, that sa I have never
seen Mr. ** but once, and consequently have no claim to
his acquaintance, that you or Sir J. had better arrange it
with him in such a manner as may be least offensive to his
feelings, and so as not to have the appearance of officious
ness nor obtrusion on my part. I hope you will be able to
do this, as I should be very sorry to do any thing by him
that may be deemed indelicate. The sum Murray offered
and offers was and is one thousand and fifty pounds: this
I refused before, because I thought it more than the two
things were worth to Murray, and from other objections,
which are of no consequence. I have, however, closed
with M. in consequence of Sir J.'s and your suggestion,
and propose the sum of six hundred pounds to be trans-
ferred to Mr. ** in such manner as may seem best to
your friend,-the remainder I think of for other purposes.
"As Murray has offered the money down for the copy-
rights, it may be done directly. I am ready to sign and
seal immediately, and perhaps it had better not be delayed.
I shall feel very glad if it can be of any use to **; only
do n't let him be plagued, nor think himself obliged and all
that, which makes people hate one another, &c.
"Yours, very truly,


"Do you remember the lines I sent you early last year, which you still have? I don't wish (like Mr. Fitzgerald, in the Morning Post) to claim the character of 'Vates' in all its translations; but were they not a little prophetic? I mean those beginning 'There's not a joy the world can,* &c. &c. on which I rather pique myself as being the truest, dough the most melancholy, I ever wrote.

*What a scrawl have I sent you! You say nothing of yourself, except that you are a Lancasterian churchwarden, and an encourager of mendicants. When are you out? and how is your family? My child is very well and flourishing, I hear; but I must see also. I feel no disposition to resign it to the contagion of its grand other's society, though I am unwilling to take it from the mother. It is weaned, however, and something about it must be decided. "Ever, &c."


[The letter that follows was in answer to one received from Mr. Murray, in which he had enclosed him a draft for a thousand guineas for the copyright of his two Poems, the Siege of Corinth and Parisina.]


* Jan. 2, 1816. "Your offer is liberal in the extreme, (you see I use the word to you and of you, though I would not consent to your using it of yourself to Mr. ****,) and much more than the two poems can possibly be worth; but I cannot accept it, nor will not. You are most welcome to them as additions to the collected volumes, without any demand or expectation on my part whatever. But I cannot consent to their separate publication. I do not like to risk any fame (whether merited or not) which I have been favoured with, upon compositions which I do not feel to be at all equal to my own notions of what they should be, (and as I flatter myself some have been, here and there,) though they may do very well as things without pretension, to add to the publication with the lighter pieces.




*Feb. 20, 1816. *I wrote to you hastily this morning by Murray, to say

See Poems, p. 194.

"Feb. 22, 1816. "When the sum offered by you, and even pressed by you, was declined, it was with reference to a separate publication, as you know and I know. That it was large, I admitted and admit; and that made part of my consideration in refusing it, till I knew better what you were likely to make of it. With regard to what is past, or is to pass about Mr. **, the case is in no respect different from the transfer of former copyrights to Mr. Dallas. Had I taken you at your word, that is, taken your money, I might have used it as I pleased; and it could be in no respect different to you whether I paid it to a w—, or a hospital, or assisted a man of talent in distress. The truth of the matter said so, and I think so; but you know, or at least ought to seems this: you offered more than the poems are worth. know, your own business best; and when you recollect what passed between you and me upon pecuniary subjects before this occurred, you will acquit me of any wish to take advantage of your imprudence.


there is an end of the matter.
"The things in question shall not be published at all, and
"Yours, &c."


"March 6, 1816.



"I sent to you to-day for this reason—the books you purchased are again seized, and, as matters stand, had much better be sold at once by public auctiou. I wish to see you, to return your bill for them; which, thank God, is

"I am very glad that the handwriting was a favourable omen of the morale of the piece: but you must not trust to that, for my copyist would write out any thing I desired in all the ignorance of innocence-I hope, however, in this instance, with no great peril to either. "P. S. I have enclosed your draft torn, for fear of acci-neither due nor paid. That part, as far as you are condents by the way-I wish you would not throw temptation cerned, being settled, (which it can be, and shall be, when in mine. It is not from a disdain of the universal idol, not I see you to-morrow,) I have no further delicacy about the from a present superfluity of his treasures, I can assure matter. This is about the tenth execution in as many you, that I refuse to worship him; but what is right is right, months; so I am pretty well hardened; but it is fit I should and must not yield to circumstances." pay the forfeit of my forefather's extravagance and my own; and whatever my faults may be, I suppose they will be pretty well expiated in time-or eternity.


"Ever, &c.

"P. S. I need hardly say that I knew nothing till thus day of the new seizure. I had released them from former ones, and thought, when you took them, that they were


"You shall have your bill again to-morrow."



in what is called intimacy, and have heard me at times conversing on the untoward topic of my recent family disquietudes. Will you have the goodness to say to me at

"Feb. 3, 1816.

*I sent for 'Marmion,' which I return, because it occurred once, whether you ever heard me speak of her with dis to me, there might be a resemblance between part of 'Pa-respect, with unkindness, or defending myself at her expense risina' and a similar scene in Canto 2 of Marmion. I fear by any serious imputation of any description against her? there is, though I never thought of it before, and could hardly Did you never hear me say, 'that when there was a right wish to imitate that which is inimitable. I wish you would or a wrong, she had the right? The reason I put these ask Mr. Gifford whether I ought to say any thing upon it; said, by her and hers, to have resorted to such means of questions to you or others of my friends is, because I am -I had completed the story on the passage from Gibbon, "Ever very truly yours, exculpation. which indeed leads to a like scene naturally, without a thought of the kind: but it comes upon me not very comfortably.




“Ouchy, near Lausanne, June 27, 1816


"I am thus far (kept by stress of weather) on my way back to Diodai, (near Geneva,) from a voyage in my boat round the lake; and I enclose you a sprig of Gibbon's acacia and some rose leaves from his garden, which, with part of his house, I have just seen. You will find honourable mention, in his Life, made of this 'acacia,' when he "To return to our business-your epistles are vastly walked out on the night of concluding his history. The agreeable. With regard to the observations on careless-garden and summer house, where he composed, are neness, &c. I think, with all humility, that the gentle reader glected, and the last utterly decayed; but they still show it has considered a rather uncommon, and designedly irregu- as his 'cabinet,' and seem perfectly aware of his memory. lar, versification for haste and negligence. The measure "My route, through Flanders, and by the Rhine, to Switis not that of any of the other poems, which (I believe) zerland, was all I expected and more. were allowed to be tolerably correct, according to Bysshe and the fingers or ears-by which bards write, and readers reckon. Great part of the 'Siege' is in (I think) what the learned called Anapests, (though I am not sure, being heinously forgetful of my metres and my Gradus',) and many of the lines intentionally longer or shorter than its rhyming companion; and rhyme also occurring at greater or less intervals of caprice or convenience.

"I have traversed all Rousseau's ground, with the Heloise before me, and am struck to a degree that I cannot express with the force and accuracy of his descriptions, and the beauty of their reality. Meillerie, Clarens and Vevay, and the Chateau de Chillon, are places of which I shall say little, because all I could say must fall short of the impressions they stamp.*


"There are a few words and phrases I want to alter in the MS. and should like to do it before you print, and will return it in an hour. "Yours ever."




"Feb. 20, 1816.


"I mean not to say that this is right or good, but merely hat I could have been smoother, had it appeared to me of advantage; and that I was not otherwise without being aware of the deviation, though I now feel sorry for it, as I would undoubtedly rather please than not. My wish has been to try at something different from my former efforts; as I endeavoured to make them differ from each other. The versification of the 'Corsair' is not that of 'Lara; nor the 'Giaour' that of the 'Bride:' 'Childe Harold' is again varied from these; and I strove to vary the last somewhat from all of the others.


"Excuse all this d-d nonsense and egotism. The fact is, that I am rather trying to think on the subject of this note, than really thinking on it.-I did not know you had called: you are always admitted and welcome when you "Yours, &c. &c. "P. S. You need not be in any apprehension or grief on my account: were I to be beaten down by the world and its inheritors, I should have succumbed to many things years ago. You must not mistake my not bullying for dejection; nor imagine that because I feel, I am to faint:but enough for the present.

"I am sorry for Sotheby's row. What the devil is it about? I thought it all settled; and if I can do any thing about him or Ivan still, I am ready and willing. I do not think it proper for me just now to be much behind the scenes, but I will see the committee and move upon it, if Sotheby likes.

"If you see Mr. Sotheby, will you tell him that I wrote to Mr. Coleridge, on getting Mr. Sotheby's note, and have, I hope, done what Mr. S. wished on that subject?"



"March 25, 1816. You are one of the few persons with whom I have lived

"Three days ago, we were nearly wrecked in a squall off Meillerie, and driven to shore. I ran no risk, being so near the rocks, and a good swimmer; but our party were wet, and incommoded a good deal. The wind was strong enough to blow down some trees, as we found at landing; however, all is righted and right, and we are thus far on our return.

"Dr. Polidori is not here, but at Diodati, left behind in the hospital with a sprained ankle, which he acquired in tumbling from a wall-he can't jump.

"I shall be glad to hear you are well, and have received for me certain helms and swords, sent from Waterloo which I rode over with pain and pleasure.

"I have finished a third Canto of Childe Harold, (consisting of one hundred and seventeen stanzas,) longer than either of the two former, and in some parts, it may be, better; but of course on that I cannot determine. I shall send it by the first safe-looking opportunity.

"Ever, &c.".



"Diodati, near Geneva, July 22, 1816.

"I wrote to you a few weeks ago, and Dr. Polidori received your letter; but the packet has not made its appearance, nor the epistle, of which you gave notice therein. I enclose you an advertisement, which was copied by Dr. Polidori, and which appears to be about the street. I need hardly say that I know nothing of all this most impudent imposition that ever issued from Grub

See notes to 3d Canto of Childe Harold,

†The following was the advertisement enclosed: Neatly printed and hot-pressed, 2s. 6d. "Lord Byron's Farewell to England, with three other poems -Ode to St. Helena, to My Daughter on her Birthday, and to the Lily of France. Printed by J. Johnston, Cheapside, 335; Oxford, 9. "The above beautiful Poems will be read with the most lively interest, England."--(They were written by a Mr. John Agg. as it is probable they will be the last of the author's that will appear


trash, nor whence it may spring-'Odes to St. Helena, navigated the Lake, and go to Chamouni with the first faar 'Farewells to England,' &c. &c.—and if it can be dis-weather; but really we have had lately such stupid mists, avowed, or is worth disavowing, you have full authority to fogs, and perpetual density, that one would think Castie no so. I never wrote, nor conceived, a line on any thing reagh had the Foreign Affairs of the kingdom of Heaven of the kind, any more than of two other things with which also on his hands. I need say nothing to you of these I was saddled-something about 'Gaul' and another about parts, you having traversed them already. I do not think Mrs. La Valette" and as to the 'Lily of France,' I should of Italy before September. I have read Glenarvon, and as soon think of celebrating a turnip. On the morning of have also seen Ben. Constant's Adolphe, and his preface, my daughter's birth,' I had other things to think of than denying the real people. It is a work which leaves an verses; and should never have dreamed of such an inven- unpleasant impression, but very consistent with the consction, till Mr. Johnston and his pamphlet's advertisement quences of not being in love, which is perhaps as disagreebroke in upon me with a new light on the crafts and subtle-able as any thing, except being so. I doubt, however, ties of the demon of printing, or rather publishing. whether all such liens (as he calls them) terminate so "I did hope that some succeeding lie would have super-wretchedly as his hero and heroine's. seded the thousand and one which were accumulated "There is a third Canto (a longer than either of the during last winter. I can forgive whatever may be said of former) of Childe Harold finished, and some smaller things or against me, but not what they make me say or sing for among them a story on the Chateau de Chillon; I only myself. It is enough to answer for what I have written; wait a good opportunity to transmit them to the grand but it were too much for Job himself to bear what one has Murray, who, I hope, flourishes. Where is Moore? Why not. I suspect that when the Arab patriarch wished that is he not out? My love to him, and my perfect considehis 'enemy had written a book,' he did not anticipate his ration and remembrances to all, particularly to Lord and own name on the title-page. I feel quite as much bored Lady Holland, and to your Dutchess of Somerset. with this foolery as it deserves, and more than I should be if I had not a headach.

"Ever, &c. "P. S. I send you a fac simile, a note of Bonstetten's thinking you might like to see the hand of Gray's corre spondent."

"Of Glenarvon,* Madame de Staël told me (ten days ago, at Copet) marvellous and grievous things; but I have seen nothing of it but the motto, which promises amiably 'for us and for our tragedy.' If such be the posy, what should the ring be?-'a name to all succeeding,' &c. The generous moment selected for the publication is probably its kindest accompaniment, and-truth to say-the time was well chosen. I have not even a guess at the contents, except from the very vague accounts I have heard.

"I ought to be ashamed of the egotism of this letter. not my fault altogether, and I shall be but too happy drop the subject, when others will allow me.

"I am in tolerable plight, and in my last letter told you what I had done in the way of all rhyme. I trust that you prosper, and that your authors are in good condition. I should suppose your stud has received some increase by what I hear. Bertramt must be a good horse; does he run next meeting? I hope you will beat the Row. "Yours alway, &c."

"Diodati, Sept. 29, 1816.

"I am very much flattered by Mr. Gifford's good opinion the MSS.* and shall be more so, if it answers your expectations and justifies his kindness. I liked it myself, but that must go for nothing. The feelings with which most of it was written need not be envied me. With regard to the price, I fixed none, but left it to Mr. Kinnaird, would do their best; and as to yourself, I knew you would Mr. Shelley, and yourself, to arrange. Of course, they make no difficulties. But I agree with Mr. Kinnaird conditional; and for my own sake, I wish it to be added, perfectly, that the concluding five hundred should be only only in case of your selling a certain number, that number to be fixed by yourself. I hope this is fair. In every thing of this kind there must be risk; and till that be past, in one way or the other, I would not willingly add to it, particularly in times like the present. And pray always recollect that nothing could mortify me more-no failure on my own part -than having made you lose by any purchase from me.



"Diodati, near Geneva, July 29, 1816.

"The Monody was written by request of Mr. Kinnaird for the theatre. I did as well as I could; but where I have Hobhouse and myself are just returned from a journey of not my choice, I pretend to answer for nothing. Mr. lakes and mountains. We have been to the Grindelwald, and the Jungfrau, and stood on the summit of the Wengen

Do you recollect a book, Mathieson's Letters, which ou lent me, which I have still, and yet hope to return to your library? Well, I have encountered at Copet and elsewhere Gray s correspondent, that same Bonstetten, to whom I lent the translation of his correspondent's epistles Alp; and seen torrents of nine hundred feet in fall, and for a few days; but all he could remember of Gray amounts glaciers of all dimensions; we have heard shepherd's pipes, to little, except that he was the most 'melancholy and and avalanches, and looked on the clouds foaming up from gentlemanlike of all possible poets. Bonstetten himself is the valleys below us, like the spray of the ocean of hell.‡ a fine and very lively old man, and much esteemed by his Chamouni, and that which it inherits, we saw a month compatriots; he is also a littérateur of good repute, and all his friends have a mania of addressing to him volumes of go; but, though Mont Blanc is higher, it is not equal in wildness to the Jungfrau, the Eighers, the Shreckhorn, and letters-Mathieson, Muller the historian, &c. &c. He is the Rose Glaciers. a good deal at Copet, where I have met him a few times. All there are well, except Rocca, who, I am sorry to say, woks in a very bad state of health. Schlegel is in high force, and Madame as brilliant as ever.





"I came here by the Netherlands and the Rhine route, and Basle, Berne, Morat, and Lausanne. I have circum

"He left a name to all succeeding times,

Link'd with one virtue and a thousand crimes." Maturin's Tragedy

"Ever, &c. "P. S. My best remembrances to Mr. Gifford. Pray say all that can be said from me to him.

"I am sorry that Mr. Maturin did not like Phillips

A Novel, by Lady Caroline Lamb: Lord Byron, under another name, picture. I thought it was reckoned a good one. If he had

ve one of its p.incipal characters. 1 The motto is

this month infested with bandits, but we must take our "We set off for Italy next week. The road is within chance and such precautions as are :equisite.

• Childe Harold, 3d Canto..

† On the death of Sheridan, Poems, p. 180.

I See Journal in Switzerland, Sept. 23.

made the speech on the original, perhaps he would have been more readily forgiven by the proprietor and the painter of the portrait." *



"Diodati, Sept. 30, 1816.

1 answered your obliging letters yesterday: to-day the Monody arrived with its title-page, which is, I presume, a separate publication, 'The request of a friend:''Obliged by hunger and request of friends.'

I will request you to expunge that same, unless you please to add, 'by a person of quality,' or 'of wit and honour about town.' Merely say, 'written to be spoken at Drury-lane.' To-morrow I dine at Copet. Saturday I strike tents for Italy. This evening, on the lake in my boat with Mr. Hobhouse, the pole which sustains the mainsail slipped in tacking, and struck me so violently on one of my legs, (the "And so you have been publishing 'Margaret of Anjou worst, luckily,) as to make me do a foolish thing, viz. to and an Assyrian tale, and refusing W. W.'s Waterloo, and faint a downright swoon; the thing must have jarred the 'Hue and Cry.' I know not which most to admire, some nerve or other, for the bone is not injured, and hardly your rejections or acceptances. I believe that prose is painful, (it is six hours since,) and cost Mr. Hobhouse after all, the most reputable; for certes, if one could foresee some apprehension and much sprinkling of water to re--but I won't go on-that is, with this sentence; but poetry cover me. The sensation was a very odd one: I never is, I fear, incurable. God help me! if I proceed in this had but two such before, once from a cut on the head from scribbling, I shall have frittered away my mind before I am a stone, several years ago, and once (long ago also) in thirty; but it is at times a real relief to me. For the prefalling into a great wreath of snow;-a sort of gray giddi-sent-good evening."

ness first, then nothingness and a total loss of memory on beginning to recover. The last part is not disagreeable, if one did not find it again.

"You want the original MSS. Mr. Davies has the first fair copy in my own hand, and I have the rough composition here, and will send or save it for you, since you wish it.

With regard to your new literary project, if any thing falls in the way which will, to the best of my judgment, suit you, I will send you what I can. At present I must lay by a little, having pretty well exhausted myself in what I have sent you, Italy or Dalmatia and another summer may, or may not, set me off again. I have no plans, and am nearly as indifferent what may come as where I go. I shall take Felicia Hemans' Restoration, &c. with me; it is a good poem-very.

"Pray repeat my best thanks and remembrances to Mr. Gifford for all his trouble and good-nature towards me. "Do not fancy me laid up, from the beginning of this scrawl. I tell you the accident for want of better to say; but it is over, and I am only wondering what the deuce was the matter with me.


by Longman; but do not send out more books- I have too many.

"The 'Monody' is in too many paragraphs, which makes it unintelligible to me; if any one else understands it in the present form, they are wiser; however, as it cannot be rectified till my return, and has been already published, even publish it on in the collection-it will fill up the place of the omitted epistle.

"Strike out 'by request of a friend,' which is sad trash, and must have been done to make it ridiculous. "Be careful in the printing the stanzas beginning, Though the day of my destiny's,' &c.

which I think well of as a composition.

"The Antiquary' is not the best of the three, but much above all the last twenty years, saving its elder brothers. Holcroft's Memoirs are valuable, as showing the strength of endurance in the man, which is worth more than all the talent in the world.



"Our weather is very fine, which is more than the sumAddress either to Milan, poste restante, or by way of Gemer has been.-At Milan I shall expect to hear from you.

"I have lately been over all the Bernese Alps and their lakes. I think many of the scenes (some of which were not those usually frequented by the English) finer than Chamouni, which I visited some time before. I have been neva, to the care of Monsr. Hentsch, Banquier. I write to Clarens again, and crossed the mountains behind it: of these few lines in case my other letter should not reach this tour I kept a short journalt for my sister, which I sent you; I trust one of them will.

yesterday in three letters. It is not all for perusal; but if you like to hear about the romantic part, she will, I dare say, show you what touches upon the rocks, &c. Christabel-I won't have any one sneer at Christabel: it is a tine wild poem.



"Diodati, Oct. 5, 1816.


"Martigny, Oct. 9, 1816. the 'Pisse Vache' (one of the first torrents in Switzerland) "Thus far on my way to Italy. We have just passed in time to view the iris which the sun flings along it before

"P. S. My best respects and regards to Mr. Gifford. Will you tell him, it may perhaps be as well to put a short note to that part relating to Clarens, merely to say, that of course the description does not refer to that particular spot so much as to the command of scenery round it? I do not know that this is necessary, and leave it to Mr. G.'s "Madame de Staël wishes to see the Antiquary, and I choice, as my editor,-if he will allow me to call him so at . am going to take it to her to-morrow. She has made Copet as agreeable as society and talent can make any P iace on earth. "Yours ever,

this distance."


Save me a copy

• On the death of Sheridan. See Letter 299. ↑ See Journal. p. 244.


"I have written to you twice lately. Mr. Davies, I hear, is arrived. He brings the original MS. which you wished to see. Recollect that the printing is to be from that which Mr. Shelley brought; and recollect also that the concluding stanzas of Childe Harold (those to my daughter) which I had not made up my mind whether to publish or not when they were first written, (as you will see marked on the margin of the first copy,) I had (and have) in the copy which you received by Mr. Shelley, before I fully determined to publish with the rest of the Canto, as sent it to England.

"Milan, Oct. 15, 1816.

"I hear that Mr. Davies has arrived in England,-but that of some letters, &c. committed to his care by Mr. Hobhouse, only half have been delivered. This intelligence




''Buck's Richard III.' republished naturally makes me feel a little ous for mine, and

Poems, p. 198.


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