., p. 376).


Nathaniel Hawthorne (
Our Old Home
, p. 229, ed. 1884) says of Hunt, and means it as high praise, that
"there was not an English trait in him from head to foot—morally, intellectually, or physically. Beef, ale or stout, brandy or port-wine, entered not at all into his composition."
He was, in fact, a man of weak fibre, who allowed himself to sponge upon his friends, such as Talfourd, Haydon, and Shelley. Though Dickens denied (
All the Year Round
, Dec. 24, 1859) that "Harold Skimpole" was intended for Hunt, the picture was recognized as a portrait. On the other hand, Hunt was a man of kindly and genial disposition.
"He loves everything," says Crabb Robinson (Diary, vol. ii. p. 192), "he catches the sunny side of everything, and, excepting that he has a few polemical antipathies, finds everything beautiful."
In his essays, the best of which appeared in the
Indicator
(1819-21), he communicates some of his own sense of enjoyment to those of his readers who are content to take him as he is. His circle is limited; but in it his observation is minute and suggestive. The Vale of Health is to him, in a degree proportioned to their respective powers, what the Temple was to Lamb. His style is neat, pretty, and would be affected if it were not the man himself. As a literary journalist, a dramatic critic, and an essayist, he has a place in literature. His poetry is less successful; his affectations, innate vulgarity, and habit of pawing his subjects repel even those who are attracted by its sweetness. Yet his
Story of Rimini
(1816), which he dedicated to Byron, was admired in its day. Byron, though he condemned its affected style, thought the poem a "devilish good one." Moore held the same opinion; and Jeffrey, writing to him May 28, 1816 (
Memoirs, etc., of Thomas Moon,
vol. ii. p. 100), says,
"I certainly shall not be ill-natured to Rimini. It is very sweet and very lively in many places, and is altogether piquant, as being by far the best imitation of Chaucer and some of his Italian contemporaries that modern times have produced."
No two men could be more unlike than Byron and Hunt, or have less in common. Yet, with a singular capacity for self-delusion, Hunt told his wife that the texture of Byron's mind resembled his to a thread (
Correspondence of L. Hunt
, vol. i. p. 88). The friendship began in political sympathy; but two years later (see Byron's letter to Moore, June 1, 1818) it had, on one side at least, cooled. In June, 1822, Hunt came to Pisa to launch
The Liberal
, with the aid of Shelley and Byron.
The Liberal: Verse and Prose from the South
, started in 1822, lived through four numbers, and died in July, 1823. During that time Byron expressed to Lady Blessington (
Conversations
, p. 77)
"a very good opinion of the talents and principle of Mr. Hunt, though, as he said, 'our tastes are so opposite that we are totally unsuited to each other ... in short, we are more formed to be friends at a distance, than near.'"
For the best part of two years Hunt was Byron's guest: he repaid his hospitality by publishing his
Lord Byron and Some of his Contemporaries
(1828). Though Lady Blessington said the book "gave, in the main, a fair account" of Byron (Crabb Robinson's
Diary
, vol. iii. p. 13), its publication was a breach of honour. As such it was justly attacked by Moore in "The
Living Dog
and the
Dead Lion
":
"Next week will be published (as 'Lives' are the rage)
The whole Reminiscences, wondrous and strange,
Of a small puppy-dog, that lived once in the cage
Of the late noble Lion at Exeter 'Change.

"Though the dog is a dog of the kind they call 'sad,'
'Tis a puppy that much to good breeding pretends;
And few dogs have such opportunities had
Of knowing how Lions behave—among friends.

"How that animal eats, how he snores, how he drinks,
Is all noted down by this Boswell so small;
And 'tis plain, from each sentence, the puppy-dog thinks
That the Lion was no such great things after all.

"Though he roared pretty well—this the puppy allows—
It was all, he says, borrowed—all second-hand roar;
And he vastly prefers his own little bow-wows
To the loftiest war-note the Lion could pour.

"'Tis, indeed, as good fun as a Cynic could ask,
To see how this cockney-bred setter of rabbits
Takes gravely the Lord of the Forest to task,
And judges of Lions by puppy-dog habits.

"Nay, fed as he was (and this makes it a dark case)
With sops every day from the Lion's own pan,
He lifts up his leg at the noble beast's carcass,
And—does all a dog, so diminutive, can.

"However, the book's a good book, being rich in
Examples and warnings to lions high-bred,
How they suffer small mongrelly curs in their kitchen,
Who'll feed on them living, and foul them when dead.
"
Exeter 'Change
.


T. Pidcock
."


For the reply of Hunt or one of his friends, "The Giant and the Dwarf," see
Appendix VI
.

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Footnote 3:
  William Sotheby (1757-1833), once a cavalry officer, afterwards a man of letters and of fortune, published his
Oberon
in 1798, and his
Georgics
in 1800 (see
English Bards, etc.
, line 818, and
note
). The following passage from Byron's
Detached Thoughts
(1821) refers to him:
"Sotheby is a good man; rhymes well (if not wisely), but is a bore. He seizes you by the button. One night of a rout, at Mrs. Hope's, he had fastened upon me (something about Agamemnon or Orestes—or some of his plays), notwithstanding my symptoms of manifest distress, (for I was in love and had just nicked a minute when neither mothers, nor husbands, nor rivals, nor gossips, were near my then idol, who was beautiful as the Statues of the Gallery where we stood at the time). Sotheby, I say, had seized upon me by the button, and the heart-strings, and spared neither. W. Spencer, who likes fun, and don't dislike mischief, saw my case, and, coming up to us both, took me by the hand and pathetically bade me farewell, 'for,' said he, 'I see it is all over with you.' Sotheby then went away. Sic me servavit Apollo."
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Footnote 4:
  See Catullus, xxix. 3:
"Quis hoc potest videre, quis potest pati,
Nisi impudicus et vorax, et aleo,
Mamurram habere, quod Comata Gallia
Habebat uncti et ultima Britannia?"
See also xli. 4, xliii. 5 (compare Horace,
Sat
. i. 5. 37), and lvii. 2.

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Contents




292—to John Murray


May 22nd, 1813.



Dear Sir,—I
return
the "
Curiosities of Literature
."
1
Pray is it fair to ask if the "
Twopenny Postbag
" is to be reviewed in this No.? because, if not, I should be glad to undertake it, and leave it to Chance and the Editor for a reception into your pages.


Yours truly, B.


P. S.—
You
have not sent me Eustace's
Travels
2
.






Footnote 1:
  The first volume of Isaac Disraeli's
Curiosities of Literature
was published in 1791. The remaining volumes were published at intervals: vol. ii., 1793; vol. iii., 1817; vols. iv. and v., in 1823; vol. vi., 1834.

return to footnote mark



Footnote 2:
 John Chetwode Eustace (
circ
. 1762-1815) published his
Tour through Italy
in 1813.

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Contents




293—to John Murray


May 23rd, 1813.



Dear Sir,—I question whether ever author before received such a compliment from his
master
. I am glad you think the thing is tolerably
vamped
and will be
vendible
.


Pray look over the proof again. I am but a careless reviser, and let me have 12 struck off, and one or two for yourself to serve as MS. for the thing when published in the body of the volume. If Lady Caroline Lamb sends for it, do
not
let her have it, till the copies are all ready, and then you can send her one.


Yours truly,


Greek: Mpairon


P. S.—H.'s book is out at last; I have my copy, which I have lent already.


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294—to John Murray


June 2, 1813.



Dear Sir,—I
presented
a petition to the house yesterday
1
, which gave rise to some debate, and I wish you to favour me for a few minutes with the
Times
and
Herald
to look on their hostile report.


You will find, if you like to look at my
prose
, my words nearly
verbatim
in the
M. Chronicle
.


B'N.






Footnote 1:
  The petition was from Major Cartwright, and was presented June 1, 1813. (For Byron's speech, see
Appendix II. (3)
.) Returning from the House, he called on Moore, and, while the latter was dressing for dinner, walked up and down the next room,
"spouting in a sort of mock heroic voice, detached sentences of the speech he had just been delivering. 'I told them,' he said, 'that it was a most flagrant violation of the Constitution—that, if such things were permitted, there was an end of English freedom, and that—'

'But what was this dreadful grievance?' asked Moore.

'The grievance?' he repeated, pausing as if to consider, 'oh, that I forget.'"
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Contents




295—to Thomas Moore


My Dear Moore,—"
When
Rogers"
1
must not see the inclosed, which I send for your perusal. I am ready to fix any day you like for our visit.
Was
not Sheridan good upon the whole? The "Poulterer" was the first and best
2
.


Ever yours, etc.

1.

When Thurlow this damn'd nonsense sent,
(I hope I am not violent),
Nor men nor gods knew what he meant.


2.

And since not ev'n our Rogers' praise
To common sense his thoughts could raise—
Why would they let him print his lays?


3.

...

4.

...

5.

To me, divine Apollo, grant—O!
Hermilda's first and second canto,
I'm fitting up a new portmanteau;

6.

And thus to furnish decent lining,
My own and others' bays I'm twining—
So, gentle Thurlow, throw me thine in.






Footnote 1:
  In the late spring or early summer of 1813, Byron and Moore supped on bread and cheese with Rogers. Their host had just received from Lord Thurlow a copy of his
Poems on Several Occasions
(1813), and, in spite of protests by Rogers, Byron and Moore, in wild spirits, hunted through the volume to find absurdities. Byron lighted upon some lines to Rogers himself, "On the Poem of Mr. Rogers entitled 'An Epistle to a Friend.'" The first stanza ran thus:
"When Rogers o'er this labour bent,
Their purest fire the Muses lent,
T' illustrate this sweet argument."
But when he began to read them aloud, he could not, for laughing, get beyond the first two words. Two or three times he tried, but always broke down, till he was joined by Moore in a fit of laughter which at last infected Rogers himself. The three were, as Moore tells the story,
"in such a state of inextinguishable laughter, that, had the author himself been of the party, I question much whether he could have resisted the infection."
A day or two afterwards, Byron sent Moore the lines given in Letter 295. On the same day he again returned to the subject, with the following additional lines, in which the last stanza of the same poem is the text:
"Then, thus, to form Apollo's crown,
(Let ev'ry other bring his own,)
I lay my branch of laurel down."


"To
Lord Thurlow
.


1 "'I lay my branch of laurel down.'

"Thou 'lay thy branch of laurel down!'
Why, what thou'st stole is not enow;
And, were it lawfully thine own,
Does Rogers want it most, or thou?
Keep to thyself thy wither'd bough,
Or send it back to Dr. Donne—
Were justice done to both, I trow,
He'd have but little, and thou—none.
2 "'Then thus to form Apollo's crown.'

"A crown! why, twist it how you will,
Thy chaplet must be foolscap still.
When next you visit Delphi's town,
Inquire amongst your fellow-lodgers,
They'll tell you Phœbus gave his crown,
Some years before your birth, to Rogers.
3 "'Let every other bring his own.'

"When coals to Newcastle are carried,
And owls sent to Athens as wonders,
From his spouse when the Regent's unmarried,
Or Liverpool weeps o'er his blunders;
When Tories and Whigs cease to quarrel,
When Castlereagh's wife has an heir,
Then Rogers shall ask us for laurel,
And thou shalt have plenty to spare."


Edward Hovell (1781-1829) succeeded his uncle in 1806 as second Baron Thurlow. He published several volumes of poetry:
Poems on Several Occasions
(1812);
Ariadne, a Poem
(1814);
Carmen Britannicum, or the Song of Britain: written in honour of the Prince Regent
(1814);
Moonlight, a Poem
(1814);
The Sonnets of Edward, Lord Thurlow
(privately printed, 1821);
Angelica, or the Rape of Proteus, a Poem
(1822).

return to footnote mark



Footnote 2:
  Byron had met Sheridan and Moore at dinner with Rogers. In the course of the evening the conversation turned on the
Address
which Whitbread had written and sent in for the opening of Drury Lane. Like many of his competitors, he had introduced the Phœnix. "But Whitbread," said Sheridan, "made more of this bird than any of them; he entered into particulars, and described its wings, beak, tail, etc.; in short, it was a
poulterer's
description of a Phoenix."

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296—to John Hanson


June 3d, 1813.



Dear Sir,—When you receive this I shall have left town for a week, and, as it is perfectly right we should understand each other, I think you will not be surprised at my persisting in my intention of going abroad. If the Suit can be carried on in my absence,—
well
; if not, it must be given up. One word, one letter, to Cn. would put an end to it; but this I shall not do, at all events without acquainting you before hand; nor at all, provided I am able to go abroad again. But at all hazards, at all losses, on this last point I am as determined as I have been for the last six months, and you have always told me that you would endeavour to assist me in that intention. Every thing is ordered and ready now. Do not trifle with me, for I am in very solid serious earnest, and if utter ruin
were
, or
is
before me, on the one hand—and wealth at home on the other,—I have made my choice, and go I will.


If you wish to write, address a line before Saturday to Salthill Post Office; Maidenhead, I believe, but am not sure, is the Post town; but I shall not be in town till Wednesday next.


Believe me, yours ever,


BN.


P. S.—Let all the books go to Mr. Murray's immediately, and let the plate, linen, etc., which I find
excepted
by the
contract
, be sold, particularly a large silver vase—with the
contents
not removed as they are curious, and a silver cup (not the skull) be sold also—both are of value.


The Pictures also, and every moveable that is mine, and can be converted into cash; all I want is a few thousand pounds, and then adieu. You shan't be troubled with me these ten years, if ever.


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297—to Francis Hodgson


June 6, 1813.



My Dear Hodgson
,—I write to you a few lines on business.
Murray
has thought proper at his own risk, and peril, and profit (if there be any) to publish
The Giaour
; and it may possibly come under your ordeal in the
Monthly
1
I merely wish to state that in the published copies there are additions to the amount of ten pages,
text
and
margin
(
chiefly
the last), which render it a little less unfinished (but more unintelligible) than before. If, therefore, you review it, let it be from the published copies and not from the first sketch. I shall not sail for this month, and shall be in town again next week, when I shall be happy to hear from you but more glad to see you. You know I have no time or turn for correspondence(!). But you also know, I hope, that I am not the less


Yours ever,


Greek: Mpairon






Footnote 1:
 
The Giaour
was reviewed in the
Monthly Review
for June, 1813 (N.S. vol. lxxi. p. 202). In the Editor's copy is added in MS. at the end of the article, as indicating the author of the review, the word "Den."

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298—to Francis Hodgson


June 8th, 1813.



My dear Hodgson,—In town for a night I find your card. I had written to you at Cambridge merely to say that Murray has thought it expedient to publish
The Giaour
at his own risk (and reimbursement, if he can), and that, as it will probably be in your department in the
Monthly
, I wished to state that, in the published copies, there are additions to the tune of 300 lines or so towards the end, and, if reviewed, it should
not
be from the privately printed copy. So much for scribbling.


I shall manage to see you somewhere before I sail, which will be next month; till then I am yours here, and afterwards any where and every where,