'American Irving, which last is a feather in my

(fool's) cap.

'You have received my letter (open) through Mr. 'Kinnaird, and so, pray, send me no more reviews of any kind. kind. I will read no more of evil or good in that line. Walter Scott has not read a review of

The bust is not my property, but Hobhouse's. I 'addressed it to you as an Admiralty man, great at 'the custom-house. Pray deduct the expenses of the

'I never read the Memoirs at all, not even since they were written; and I never will: the pain of 'writing them was enough; you may spare me that

of a perusal. Mr. Moore has (or may have) a discretionary power to omit any repetition, or expres'sions which do not seem good to him, who is a better 'judge than you or I.

6

Enclosed is a lyrical drama (entitled a Mystery,' from its subject), which, perhaps, may arrive in time 'for the volume. You will find it pious enough, I trust, at least some of the Chorus might have been written by Sternhold and Hopkins themselves for that, and perhaps for melody. As it is longer, and 'more lyrical and Greek, than I intended at first, I have not divided it into acts, but called what I have 'sent Part First, as there is a suspension of the action, which may either close there without impro'priety, or be continued in a way that I have in view.

"I wish the first part to be published before the 'second, because, if it don't succeed, it is better to stop there than to go on in a fruitless experiment.

I desire you to acknowledge the arrival of this 'packet by return of post, if you can conveniently, 'with a proof. 'Your obedient, &c.

P.S. My wish is to have it published at the same 'time, and, if possible, in the same volume, with the 'others, because, whatever the merits or demerits of 'these pieces may be, it will perhaps be allowed that ' each is of a different kind, and in a different style;' 'so that, including the prose and the Don Juans, &c., I ' have at least sent you variety during the last year or 'two.'

LETTER 468.

TO MR. MOORE.

,

There is here Mr. * an Irish genius, with whom' "we are acquainted. He hath written a really excel'lent Commentary on Dante, full of new and true in'formation, and much ingenuity. But his verse is

such as it hath pleased God to endue him withal. Nevertheless, he is so firmly persuaded of its equal 'excellence, that he won't divorce the Commentary 'from the traduction, as I ventured delicately to hint, -not having the fear of Ireland before my eyes, and upon the presumption of having shotten very well in his presence (with common pistols too, not with my Manton's) the day before.

'But he is eager to publish all, and must be grati'fied, though the Reviewers will make him suffer more tortures than there are in his original. In'deed, the Notes are well worth publication; but he

'insists upon the translation for company, so that they 'will come out together, like Lady C**t chaperoning Miss**. I read a letter of yours to him yesterday, and he begs me to write to you about his Poeshie. He is really a good fellow, apparently, ' and I dare say that his verse is very good Irish.

Now, what shall we do for him? He says that he I will risk part of the expense with the publisher. He 'will never rest till he is published and abused-for he has a high opinion of himself-and I see nothing 'left but to gratify him so as to have him abused as little as possible; for I think it would kill him. 'You must write, then, to Jeffrey to beg him not to review him, and I will do the same to Gifford, through Murray. Perhaps they might notice the Comment without touching the text. But I doubt

the dogs-the text is too tempting.

*

I have to thank you again, as I believe I did be'fore, for your opinion of "Cain," &c.

You are right to allow to settle the claim; 'but I do not see why you should repay him out of your legacy—at least, not yet*. If you feel about it (as you are ticklish on such points) pay him the inte' rest now, and the principal when you are strong in 'cash; or pay him by instalments; or pay him as I 'do my creditors-that is, not till they make me.

'I address this to you at Paris, as you desire. Reply soon, and believe me ever, &c.

* Having discovered that, while I was abroad, a kind friend had, without any communication with myself, placed at the disposal of the person who acted for me a large sum for the discharge of this claim, I thought it right to allow the money, thus generously destined, to be employed as was intended, and then immediately repaid my friend out of the sum given by Mr. Murray for the manuscript.

It may seem obtrusive, I fear, to enter into this sort of personal details; but, without some few words of explanation, such passages as the above would be unintelligible.

P.S. What I wrote to you about low spirits is, 'however, very true. At present, owing to the 'climate, &c. (I can walk down into my garden, and

pluck my own oranges; and, by the way, have got a 'diarrhoea in consequence of indulging in this meri'dian luxury of proprietorship); my spirits are much 'better. You seem to think that I could not have 'written the " Vision," &c. under the influence of low spirits; but I think there you err *. A man's poetry ' is a distinct faculty, or Soul, and has no more to 'do with the every-day individual than the Inspiration with the Pythoness when removed from her 'tripod.'

The correspondence which I am now about to insert, though long since published by the gentleman with whom it originated †, will, I have no doubt, even by those already acquainted with all the circumstances, be reperused with pleasure; as, among the many strange and affecting incidents with which these pages abound, there is not one, perhaps, so touching and singular as that to which the following letters refer.

'My Lord,

TO LORD BYRON,

'Frome, Somerset, November 21st, 1821.

'More than two years since, a lovely and beloved 'wife was taken from me, by lingering disease, after a

*

My remark had been hasty and inconsiderate, and Lord Byron's is the view borne out by all experience. Almost all the tragic and gloomy writers have been, in social life, mirthful persons. The author of the Night Thoughts was a fellow of infinite jest; and of the pathetic Rowe, Pope says He! why, he would laugh all day long-he would do nothing else but laugh.'

See Thoughts on Private Devotion,' by Mr. Sheppard.

very short union. She possessed unvarying gentleness and fortitude, and a piety so retiring as rarely to 'disclose itself in words, but so influential as to produce uniform benevolence of conduct. In the last ' hour of life, after a farewell look on a lately born and only infant, for whom she had evinced inexpres. 'sible affection, her last whispers were "God's happiness! God's happiness!" Since the second anniver sary of her decease, I have read some papers which no one had seen during her life, and which contain 'her most secret thoughts. I am induced to commu'nicate to your lordship a passage from these papers,

which, there is no doubt, refers to yourself; as I 'have more than once heard the writer mention your 'agilityon the rocks at Hastings.

"Oh, my God, I take encouragement from the assurance of thy word, to pray to Thee in behalf of one for whom I have lately been much interested. May the person to whom I allude (and who is now, 'we fear, as much distinguished for his neglect of Thee as for the transcendant talents thou hast be'stowed on him) be awakened to a sense of his own danger, and led to seek that peace of mind in a pro

per sense of religion, which he has found this world's enjoyments unable to procure! Do Thou grant that his future example may be productive of far more ' extensive benefit than his past conduct and writings 'have been of evil; and may the sun of righteousness, which, we trust, will, at some future period, ' arise on him, be bright in proportion to the darkness ' of those clouds which guilt has raised around him, ' and the balm which it bestows, healing and soothing ' in proportion to the keenness of that agony which the punishment of his vices has inflicted on him! May