Thomas Moore - Life of Lord Byron, Vol. IV

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"When you have got the whole _four_ Cantos, I think you might
venture on an edition of the whole poem in quarto, with spare
copies of the two last for the purchasers of the old edition of the
first two. There is a hint for you, worthy of the Row; and now,
perpend--pronounce.

"I have not received a word from you of the fate of 'Manfred' or
'Tasso,' which seems to me odd, whether they have failed or
succeeded.

"As this is a scrawl of business, and I have lately written at
length and often on other subjects, I will only add that I am,"
&c.

* * * * *

LETTER 292. TO MR. MURRAY.

"La Mira, near Venice, August 7, 1817

"Your letter of the 18th, and, what will please you, as it did me,
the parcel sent by the good-natured aid and abetment of Mr. Croker,
are arrived.--Messrs. Lewis and Hobhouse are here: the former in
the same house, the latter a few hundred yards distant.

"You say nothing of Manfred, from which its failure may be
inferred; but I think it odd you should not say so at once. I know
nothing, and hear absolutely nothing, of any body or any thing in
England; and there are no English papers, so that all you say will
be news--of any person, or thing, or things. I am at present very
anxious about Newstead, and sorry that Kinnaird is leaving England
at this minute, though I do not tell him so, and would rather he
should have _his_ pleasure, although it may not in this instance
tend to my profit.

"If I understand rightly, you have paid into Morland's 1500
_pounds_: as the agreement in the paper is two thousand _guineas_,
there will remain therefore _six_ hundred _pounds_, and not five
hundred, the odd hundred being the extra to make up the specie. Six
hundred and thirty pounds will bring it to the like for Manfred and
Tasso, making a total of twelve hundred and thirty, I believe, for
I am not a good calculator. I do not wish to press you, but I tell
you fairly that it will be a convenience to me to have it paid as
soon as it can be made convenient to yourself.

"The new and last Canto is 130 stanzas in length; and may be made
more or less. I have fixed no price, even in idea, and have no
notion of what it may be good for. There are no metaphysics in it;
at least, I think not. Mr. Hobhouse has promised me a copy of
Tasso's Will, for notes; and I have some curious things to say
about Ferrara, and Parisina's story, and perhaps a farthing
candle's worth of light upon the present state of Italian
literature. I shall hardly be ready by October; but that don't
matter. I have all to copy and correct, and the notes to write.

"I do not know whether Scott will like it; but I have called him
the '_Ariosto_ of the North' in my _text_. _If he should not, say
so in time._

"An Italian translation of 'Glenarvon' came lately to be printed at
Venice. The censor (Sr. Petrotini) refused to sanction the
publication till he had seen me on the subject. I told him that I
did not recognise the slightest relation between that book and
myself; but that, whatever opinions might be upon that subject, _I_
would never prevent or oppose the publication of _any_ book, in
_any_ language, on my own private account; and desired him (against
his inclination) to permit the poor translator to publish his
labours. It is going forwards in consequence. You may say this,
with my compliments, to the author.

"Yours."

* * * * *

LETTER 293. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Venice, August 12. 1817.

"I have been very sorry to hear of the death of Madame de Stael,
not only because she had been very kind to me at Copet, but because
now I can never requite her. In a general point of view, she will
leave a great gap in society and literature.

"With regard to death, I doubt that we have any right to pity the
dead for their own sakes.

"The copies of Manfred and Tasso are arrived, thanks to Mr.
Croker's cover. You have destroyed the whole effect and moral of
the poem by omitting the last line of Manfred's speaking; and why
this was done, I know not. Why you persist in saying nothing of the
thing itself, I am equally at a loss to conjecture. If it is for
fear of telling me something disagreeable, you are wrong; because
sooner or later I must know it, and I am not so new, nor so raw,
nor so inexperienced, as not to be able to bear, not the mere
paltry, petty disappointments of authorship, but things more
serious,--at least I hope so, and that what you may think
irritability is merely mechanical, and only acts like galvanism on
a dead body, or the muscular motion which survives sensation.

"If it is that you are out of humour, because I wrote to you a
sharp letter, recollect that it was partly from a misconception of
your letter, and partly because you did a thing you had no right to
do without consulting me.

"I have, however, heard good of Manfred from two other quarters,
and from men who would not be scrupulous in saying what they
thought, or what was said; and so 'good morrow to you, good Master
Lieutenant.'

"I wrote to you twice about the fourth Canto, which you will answer
at your pleasure. Mr. Hobhouse and I have come up for a day to the
city; Mr. Lewis is gone to England; and I am

"Yours."

* * * * *

LETTER 294. TO MR. MURRAY.

"La Mira, near Venice, August 21. 1817.

"I take you at your word about Mr. Hanson, and will feel obliged if
you will _go_ to him, and request Mr. Davies also to visit him by
my desire, and repeat that I trust that neither Mr. Kinnaird's
absence nor mine will prevent his taking all proper steps to
accelerate and promote the sale of Newstead and Rochdale, upon
which the whole of my future personal comfort depends. It is
impossible for me to express how much any delays upon these points
would inconvenience me; and I do not know a greater obligation that
can be conferred upon me than the pressing these things upon
Hanson, and making him act according to my wishes. I wish you would
_speak out_, at least to _me_, and tell me what you allude to by
your cold way of mentioning him. All mysteries at such a distance
are not merely tormenting but mischievous, and may be prejudicial
to my interests; so, pray expound, that I may consult with Mr.
Kinnaird when he arrives; and remember that I prefer the most
disagreeable certainties to hints and innuendoes. The devil take
every body: I never can get any person to be explicit about any
thing or any body, and my whole life is passed in conjectures of
what people mean: you all talk in the style of C * * L * *'s
novels.

"It is not Mr. St. John, but _Mr. St. Aubyn_, son of Sir John St.
Aubyn. _Polidori_ knows him, and introduced him to me. He is of
Oxford, and has got my parcel. The Doctor will ferret him out, or
ought. The parcel contains many letters, some of Madame de Stael's,
and other people's, besides MSS., &c. By ----, if I find the
gentleman, and he don't find the parcel, I will say something he
won't like to hear.

"You want a 'civil and delicate declension' for the medical
tragedy? Take it--

"Dear Doctor, I have read your play,
Which is a good one in its way,--
Purges the eyes and moves the bowels,
And drenches handkerchiefs like towels
With tears, that, in a flux of grief,
Afford hysterical relief
To shatter'd nerves and quicken'd pulses,
Which your catastrophe convulses.
"I like your moral and machinery;
Your plot, too, has such scope for scenery!
Your dialogue is apt and smart;
The play's concoction full of art;
Your hero raves, your heroine cries,
All stab, and every body dies.
In short, your tragedy would be
The very thing to hear and see:
And for a piece of publication,
If I decline on this occasion,
It is not that I am not sensible
To merits in themselves ostensible,
But--and I grieve to speak it--plays
Are drugs, mere drugs, sir--now-a-days.
I had a heavy loss by 'Manuel,'--
Too lucky if it prove not annual,--
And S * *, with his 'Orestes,'
(Which, by the by, the author's best is,)
Has lain so very long on hand
That I despair of all demand.
I've advertised, but see my books,
Or only watch my shopman's looks;--
Still Ivan, Ina, and such lumber,
My back-shop glut, my shelves encumber.
"There's Byron too, who once did better,
Has sent me, folded in a letter,
A sort of--it's no more a drama
Than Darnley, Ivan, or Kehama;
So alter'd since last year his pen is,
I think he's lost his wits at Venice.
In short, sir, what with one and t'other,
I dare not venture on another.
I write in haste; excuse each blunder;
The coaches through the street so thunder!
My room's so full--we've Gifford here
Reading MS., with Hookham Frere,
Pronouncing on the nouns and particles
Of some of our forthcoming Articles.
"The Quarterly--Ah, sir, if you
Had but the genius to review!--
A smart critique upon St. Helena,
Or if you only would but tell in a
Short compass what--but, to resume:
As I was saying, sir, the room--
The room's so full of wits and bards,
Crabbes, Campbells, Crokers, Freres, and Wards,
And others, neither bards nor wits:--
My humble tenement admits
All persons in the dress of gent.,
From Mr. Hammond to Dog Dent.
"A party dines with me to-day,
All clever men, who make their way;
They're at this moment in discussion
On poor De Stael's late dissolution.
Her book, they say, was in advance--
Pray Heaven, she tell the truth of France!
"Thus run our time and tongues away.--
But, to return, sir, to your play:
Sorry, sir, but I cannot deal,
Unless 'twere acted by O'Neill.
My hands so full, my head so busy,
I'm almost dead, and always dizzy;
And so, with endless truth and hurry,
Dear Doctor, I am yours,

"JOHN MURRAY.

"P.S. I've done the fourth and last Canto, which amounts to 133
stanzas. I desire you to name a price; if you don't, _I_ will; so I
advise you in time.

"Yours, &c.

"There will be a good many notes."

* * * * *

Among those minor misrepresentations of which it was Lord Byron's fate
to be the victim, advantage was, at this time, taken of his professed
distaste to the English, to accuse him of acts of inhospitality, and
even rudeness, towards some of his fellow-countrymen. How far different
was his treatment of all who ever visited him, many grateful
testimonies might be collected to prove; but I shall here content
myself with selecting a few extracts from an account given me by Mr.
Henry Joy of a visit which, in company with another English gentleman,
he paid to the noble poet this summer, at his villa on the banks of the
Brenta. After mentioning the various civilities they had experienced
from Lord Byron; and, among others, his having requested them to name
their own day for dining with him,--"We availed ourselves," says Mr.
Joy, "of this considerate courtesy by naming the day fixed for our
return to Padua, when our route would lead us to his door; and we were
welcomed with all the cordiality which was to be expected from so
friendly a bidding. Such traits of kindness in such a man deserve to be
recorded on account of the numerous slanders thrown upon him by some of
the tribes of tourists, who resented, as a personal affront, his
resolution to avoid their impertinent inroads upon his retirement. So
far from any appearance of indiscriminate aversion to his countrymen,
his enquiries about his friends in England (_quorum pars magna fuisti_)
were most anxious and particular.

"He expressed some opinions," continues my informant, "on matters of
taste, which cannot fail to interest his biographer. He contended that
Sculpture, as an art, was vastly superior to Painting;--a preference
which is strikingly illustrated by the fact that, in the fourth Canto of
Childe Harold, he gives the most elaborate and splendid account of
several statues, and none of any pictures; although Italy is,
emphatically, the land of painting, and her best statues are derived
from Greece. By the way, he told us that there were more objects of
interest in Rome alone than in all Greece from one extremity to the
other. After regaling us with an excellent dinner, (in which, by the by,
a very English joint of roast beef showed that he did not extend his
antipathies to all John-Bullisms,) he took me in his carriage some miles
of our route towards Padua, after apologising to my fellow-traveller for
the separation, on the score of his anxiety to hear all he could of his
friends in England; and I quitted him with a confirmed impression of the
strong ardour and sincerity of his attachment to those by whom he did
not fancy himself slighted or ill treated."

* * * * *

LETTER 295. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Sept. 4. 1817.

"Your letter of the 15th has conveyed with its contents the
impression of a seal, to which the 'Saracen's Head' is a seraph,
and the 'Bull and Mouth' a delicate device. I knew that calumny had
sufficiently _blackened_ me of later days, but not that it had
given the features as well as complexion of a negro. Poor Augusta
is not less, but rather more, shocked than myself, and says 'people
seem to have lost their recollection strangely' when they engraved
such a 'blackamoor.' Pray don't seal (at least to me) with such a
caricature of the human numskull altogether; and if you don't break
the seal-cutter's head, at least crack his libel (or likeness, if
it should be a likeness) of mine.

"Mr. Kinnaird is not yet arrived, but expected. He has lost by the
way all the tooth-powder, as a letter from Spa informs me.

"By Mr. Rose I received safely, though tardily, magnesia and
tooth-powder, and * * * *. Why do you send me such trash--worse
than trash, the Sublime of Mediocrity? Thanks for Lalla, however,
which is good; and thanks for the Edinburgh and Quarterly, both
very amusing and well-written. Paris in 1815, &c.--good. Modern
Greece--good for nothing; written by some one who has never been
there, and not being able to manage the Spenser stanza, has
invented a thing of his own, consisting of two elegiac stanzas, an
heroic line, and an Alexandrine, twisted on a string. Besides, why
'_modern_?' You may say _modern Greeks_, but surely _Greece_ itself
is rather more ancient than ever it was. Now for business.

"You offer 1500 guineas for the new Canto: I won't take it. I ask
two thousand five hundred guineas for it, which you will either
give or not, as you think proper. It concludes the poem, and
consists of 144 stanzas. The notes are numerous, and chiefly
written by Mr. Hobhouse, whose researches have been indefatigable;
and who, I will venture to say, has more real knowledge of Rome and
its environs than any Englishman who has been there since Gibbon.
By the way, to prevent any mistakes, I think it necessary to state
the fact that _he_, Mr. Hobhouse, has no interest whatever in the
price or profit to be derived from the copyright of either poem or
notes directly or indirectly; so that you are not to suppose that
it is by, for, or through him, that I require more for this Canto
than the preceding.--No: but if Mr. Eustace was to have had two
thousand for a poem on Education; if Mr. Moore is to have three
thousand for Lalla, &c.; if Mr. Campbell is to have three thousand
for his prose on poetry--I don't mean to disparage these gentlemen
in their labours--but I ask the aforesaid price for mine. You will
tell me that their productions are considerably _longer_: very
true, and when they shorten them, I will lengthen mine, and ask
less. You shall submit the MS. to Mr. Gifford, and any other two
gentlemen to be named by you, (Mr. Frere, or Mr. Croker, or
whomever you please, except such fellows as your * *s and * *s,)
and if they pronounce this Canto to be inferior as a _whole_ to the
preceding, I will not appeal from their award, but burn the
manuscript, and leave things as they are.

"Yours very truly.

"P.S. In answer to a former letter, I sent you a short statement of
what I thought the state of our present copyright account, viz. six
hundred _pounds_ still (or lately) due on Childe Harold, and six
hundred _guineas_, Manfred and Tasso, making a total of twelve
hundred and thirty pounds. If we agree about the new poem, I shall
take the liberty to reserve the choice of the manner in which it
should be published, viz. a quarto, certes."

* * * * *

LETTER 296. TO MR. HOPPNER.

"La Mira, Sept. 12. 1817.

"I set out yesterday morning with the intention of paying my
respects, and availing myself of your permission to walk over the
premises.[7] On arriving at Padua, I found that the march of the
Austrian troops had engrossed so many horses[8], that those I could
procure were hardly able to crawl; and their weakness, together
with the prospect of finding none at all at the post-house of
Monselice, and consequently either not arriving that day at Este,
or so late as to be unable to return home the same evening, induced
me to turn aside in a second visit to Arqua, instead of proceeding
onwards; and even thus I hardly got back in time.

"Next week I shall be obliged to be in Venice to meet Lord Kinnaird
and his brother, who are expected in a few days. And this
interruption, together with that occasioned by the continued march
of the Austrians for the next few days, will not allow me to fix
any precise period for availing myself of your kindness, though I
should wish to take the earliest opportunity. Perhaps, if absent,
you will have the goodness to permit one of your servants to show
me the grounds and house, or as much of either as may be
convenient; at any rate, I shall take the first occasion possible
to go over, and regret very much that I was yesterday prevented.

"I have the honour to be your obliged," &c.

[Footnote 7: A country-house on the Euganean hills, near Este, which Mr.
Hoppner, who was then the English Consul-General at Venice, had for some
time occupied, and which Lord Byron afterwards rented of him, but never
resided in it.]

[Footnote 8: So great was the demand for horses, on the line of march of
the Austrians, that all those belonging to private individuals were put
in requisition for their use, and Lord Byron himself received an order
to send his for the same purpose. This, however, he positively refused
to do, adding, that if an attempt were made to take them by force, he
would shoot them through the head in the middle of the road, rather than
submit to such an act of tyranny upon a foreigner who was merely a
temporary resident in the country. Whether his answer was ever reported
to the higher authorities I know not; but his horses were suffered to
remain unmolested in his stables.]

* * * * *

LETTER 297. TO MR. MURRAY.

"September 15. 1817.

"I enclose a sheet for correction, if ever you get to another
edition. You will observe that the blunder in printing makes it
appear as if the Chateau was _over_ St. Gingo, instead of being on
the opposite shore of the Lake, over Clarens. So, separate the
paragraphs, otherwise my _to_pography will seem as inaccurate as
your _ty_pography on this occasion.

"The other day I wrote to convey my proposition with regard to the
fourth and concluding Canto. I have gone over and extended it to
one hundred and fifty stanzas, which is almost as long as the two
first were originally, and longer by itself than any of the smaller
poems except 'The Corsair.' Mr. Hobhouse has made some very
valuable and accurate notes of considerable length, and you may be
sure that I will do for the text all that I can to finish with
decency. I look upon Childe Harold as my best; and as I begun, I
think of concluding with it. But I make no resolutions on that
head, as I broke my former intention with regard to 'The Corsair.'
However, I fear that I shall never do better; and yet, not being
thirty years of age, for some moons to come, one ought to be
progressive as far as intellect goes for many a good year. But I
have had a devilish deal of tear and wear of mind and body in my
time, besides having published too often and much already. God
grant me some judgment to do what may be most fitting in that and
every thing else, for I doubt my own exceedingly.

"I have read 'Lalla Rookh,' but not with sufficient attention yet,
for I ride about, and lounge, and ponder, and--two or three other
things; so that my reading is very desultory, and not so attentive
as it used to be. I am very glad to hear of its popularity, for
Moore is a very noble fellow in all respects, and will enjoy it
without any of the bad feelings which success--good or
evil--sometimes engenders in the men of rhyme. Of the poem, itself,
I will tell you my opinion when I have mastered it: I say of the
_poem_, for I don't like the _prose_ at all; and in the mean time,
the 'Fire-worshippers' is the best, and the 'Veiled Prophet' the
worst, of the volume.

"With regard to poetry in general[9], I am convinced, the more I
think of it, that he and _all_ of us--Scott, Southey, Wordsworth,
Moore, Campbell, I,--are all in the wrong, one as much as another;
that we are upon a wrong revolutionary poetical system, or systems,
not worth a damn in itself, and from which none but Rogers and
Crabbe are free; and that the present and next generations will
finally be of this opinion. I am the more confirmed in this by
having lately gone over some of our classics, particularly _Pope_,
whom I tried in this way,--I took Moore's poems and my own and some
others, and went over them side by side with Pope's, and I was
really astonished (I ought not to have been so) and mortified at
the ineffable distance in point of sense, learning, effect, and
even _imagination_, passion, and _invention_, between the little
Queen Anne's man, and us of the Lower Empire. Depend upon it, it is
all Horace then, and Claudian now, among us; and if I had to begin
again, I would mould myself accordingly. Crabbe's the man, but he
has got a coarse and impracticable subject, and * * * is retired
upon half-pay, and has done enough, unless he were to do as he did
formerly."

[Footnote 9: On this paragraph, in the MS. copy of the above letter, I
find the following note, in the handwriting of Mr. Gifford:--

"There is more good sense, and feeling, and judgment in this passage,
than in any other I ever read, or Lord Byron wrote."]

* * * * *

LETTER 298. TO MR. MURRAY.

"September 17. 1817.

"Mr. Hobhouse purposes being in England in November; he will bring
the fourth Canto with him, notes and all; the text contains one
hundred and fifty stanzas, which is long for that measure.

"With regard to the 'Ariosto of the North,' surely their themes,
chivalry, war, and love, were as like as can be; and as to the
compliment, if you knew what the Italians think of Ariosto, you
would not hesitate about that. But as to their 'measures,' you
forget that Ariosto's is an octave stanza, and Scott's any thing
but a stanza. If you think Scott will dislike it, say so, and I
will expunge. I do not call him the '_Scotch_ Ariosto,' which would
be sad _provincial_ eulogy, but the 'Ariosto of the _North_,
meaning of all _countries_ that are _not_ the _South_. * *

"As I have recently troubled you rather frequently, I will
conclude, repeating that I am

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