185—To John Murray1

The lines in which Hodgson answered Byron's letter on his religious opinions are quoted in the

Memoir of the Rev. F. Hodgson

, vol. i. pp. 199, 200.

Footnote 2:

Moore's

M.P., or The Bluestocking

, was played at the Lyceum, September 9, 1811, but was soon withdrawn.

Footnote 3:

Richard Brothers (1757-1824) believed that, in 1795, he was to be revealed as Prince of the Hebrews and ruler of the world. In that year he was arrested, and confined first as a criminal lunatic, afterwards in a private asylum, where he remained till 1806. A portrait of "Richard Brothers, Prince of the Hebrews," was engraved, April, 1795, by William Sharp, with the following inscription:

"Fully believing this to be the Man whom God has appointed, I engrave this likeness. William Sharp."

Footnote 4:

See

Breslaw's Last Legacy; or, the Magical Companion

. Including the various exhibitions of those wonderful Artists, Breslaw, Sieur Comus, Jonas, etc. (1784).

Footnote 5:

Candide, ou l'Optimisms

(chapitre xxx.);

"et Pangloss disait quelquefois à Candide; Tous les événements sont enchainés dans le meilleur des mondes possibles," etc.

Hodgson replies (September 18, 1811):

"Your last letter has unfeignedly grieved me. Believing, as I do from my heart, that you would be better and happier by thoroughly examining the evidences for Christianity, how can I hear you say you will not read any book on the subject, without being pained? But God bless you under all circumstances. I will say no more. Only do not talk of 'shocking my prejudices,' or of 'rushing to see me before I am a Deacon.' I wish to see you at all times; and as to our different opinions, we can easily keep them to ourselves."

The next day he writes again:

"Let me make one other effort. You mentioned an opinion of Hume's about miracles. For God's sake,—hear me, Byron, for God's sake—examine Paley's answer to that opinion; examine the whole of Paley's Evidences. The two volumes may be read carefully in less than a week. Let me for the last time by our friendship, implore you to read them."

185—To John Murray ¹

Newstead Abbey, Notts., Sept. 14, 1811.

Sir,—Since your former letter, Mr. Dallas informs me that the MS. has been submitted to the perusal of Mr. Gifford, most contrary to my wishes, as Mr. D. could have explained, and as my own letter to you did, in fact, explain, with my motives for objecting to such a proceeding. Some late domestic events, of which you are probably aware, prevented my letter from being sent before; indeed, I hardly conceived you would have so hastily thrust my productions into the hands of a Stranger, who could be as little pleased by receiving them, as their author is at their being offered, in such a manner, and to such a Man.

My address, when I leave Newstead, will be to "Rochdale, Lancashire;" but I have not yet fixed the day of departure, and I will apprise you when ready to set off.

You have placed me in a very ridiculous situation, but it is past, and nothing more is to be said on the subject. You hinted to me that you wished some alterations to be made; if they have nothing to do with politics or religion, I will make them with great readiness.

I am, Sir, etc., etc.,

Byron

As soon as Byron came to town, he was a frequent visitor at 32, Fleet Street, while the sheets of

Childe Harold

were passing through the press.

"Fresh from the fencing rooms of Angelo and Jackson, he used to amuse himself by renewing his practice of Carte et Tierce, with his walking-cane directed against the bookshelves, while Murray was reading passages from the poem with occasional ejaculations of admiration, on which Byron would say, 'You think that a good idea, do you, Murray?' Then he would fence and lunge with his walking-stick at some special book which he had picked out on the shelves before him. As Murray afterwards said, 'I was often very glad to get rid of him!'"

(Smiles's

Memoir of John Murray

, vol. i. p. 207).

Newstead Abbey, Sept. 15, 1811.

186—To R. C. Dallas

My dear Sir,—My agent will not he here for at least a week, and even afterwards my letters will be forwarded to Rochdale. I am sorry that Murray should

groan

on my account, tho'

that

is better than the anticipation of applause, of which men and books are generally disappointed.

The notes I sent are

merely matter

to be divided, arranged, and published for

notes

hereafter, in proper places; at present I am too much occupied with earthly cares to waste time or trouble upon rhyme, or its modern indispensables, annotations.

Pray let me hear from you, when at leisure. I have written to abuse Murray for showing the MS. to Mr. G., who must certainly think it was done by my wish, though you know the contrary.—Believe me, Yours ever,

B .

187—to John Murray

Newstead Abbey, Sept. 16, 1811.

Dear Sir

,—I return the proof, which I should wish to be shown to Mr. Dallas, who understands typographical arrangements much better than I can pretend to do. The printer may place the notes in his

own way

, or any

way

, so that they are out of

my way

; I care nothing about types or margins.

If you have any communication to make, I shall be here at least a week or ten days longer. I am, Sir, etc., etc.,

Byron

188—To R. C. Dallas

Newstead Abbey, Sept. 16, 1811.

Dear Sir

,—I send you a

motto

"L'univers est une espèce de livre, dont on n'a lu que la première page quand on n'a vu que son pays. J'en ai feuilleté un assez grand nombre, que j'ai trouvé également mauvaises. Cet examen ne m'a point été infructueux. Je haïssais ma patrie. Toutes les impertinences des peuples divers, parmi lesquels j'ai vécu, m'ont réconcilié avec elle. Quand je n'aurais tiré d'autre bénéfice de mes voyages que celui-là, je n'en regretterais ni les frais, ni les fatigues."

Cosmopolite."

If not too long, I think it will suit the book. The passage is from a little French volume, a great favourite with me, which I picked up in the Archipelago. I don't think it is well known in England; Monbron is the author; but it is a work sixty years old.

Good morning! I won't take up your time.

Yours ever,

Byron

Fougeret de Monbron, born at Péronne, served in the

Gardes du Corps

, but abandoned the sword for the pen, and published

Henriade Travestie

(1745);

Préservatif Centre l'Anglomanie

(1787); and

Le Cosmopolite

(1750). His novels,

Margot la Ravaudeuse, Thérlsé Philosophe

, and others, appeared under the name of Fougeret. He died in 1761. In that year was published in London an edition of

Le Cosmopolite, ou le Citoyen du Monde

, par Mr. de Monbron, with the motto, "Patria est ubicunque est bene" (Cic. 5, Tusc. 37).

Byron's quotation is the opening paragraph of the book. The author, who had travelled in England, returns to France a complete "Jacques Rôt-de-Bif." He then visits Holland, the Low Countries, Constantinople, Italy, Spain, Portugal, and England a second time. He finds that the charm has vanished, and that the English are no better than their neighbours. It is a cynical little book, abounding in such sayings as. "Make acquaintances, not friends; intimacy breeds disgust;" "The best fruit of travelling is the justification of instinctive dislikes." Monbron, like Byron, ridicules the traveller's passion for collecting broken statues and antiques.

189—to R. C. Dallas

Newstead Abbey, Sept. 17, 1811.

I can easily excuse your not writing, as you have, I hope, something better to do, and you must pardon my frequent invasions on your attention, because I have at this moment nothing to interpose between you and my epistles.

I cannot settle to any thing, and my days pass, with the exception of bodily exercise to some extent, with uniform indolence, and idle insipidity. I have been expecting, and still expect, my agent, when I shall have enough to occupy my reflections in business of no very pleasant aspect. Before my journey to Rochdale, you shall have due notice where to address me—I believe at the post-office of that township. From Murray I received a second proof of the same pages, which I requested him to show you, that any thing which may have escaped my observation may be detected before the printer lays the corner-stone of an

errata

column.

now not quite alone, having an old acquaintance and school-fellow

with me, so

old

, indeed, that we have nothing

new

to say on any subject, and yawn at each other in a sort of

quiet inquietude

. I

hear

nothing from Cawthorn, or Captain Hobhouse; and

their quarto

—Lord have mercy on mankind! We come on like Cerberus with our triple publications

. As for

myself

, by

myself

, I must be satisfied with a comparison to

Janus

I am not at all pleased with Murray for showing the MS.; and I am certain Gifford must see it in the same light that I do. His praise is nothing to the purpose: what could he say? He could not spit in the face of one who had praised him in every possible way. I must own that I wish to have the impression removed from his mind, that I had any concern in such a paltry transaction. The more I think, the more it disquiets me; so I will say no more about it. It is bad enough to be a scribbler, without having recourse to such shifts to extort praise, or deprecate censure. It is anticipating, it is begging, kneeling, adulating,—the devil! the devil! the devil! and all without my wish, and contrary to my express desire. I

wish

Murray had been tied to

Payne's

neck when he jumped into the Paddington Canal

, and so tell him,—

that

is the proper receptacle for publishers. You have thought of settling in the country, why not try Notts.? I think there are places which would suit you in all points, and then you are nearer the metropolis. But of this anon.

I am, yours, etc.,

Byron

John Claridge. (See

Letters

, vol. i. p. 267,

note

2.) [Footnote 4 of Letter 136]

Footnote 2:

i. e. Childe Harold, Hints from Horace

, and

Travels in Albania.

Footnote 3:

Mr. Payne, of the firm of Payne and Mackinlay, the publishers of Hodgson's

Juvenal

, committed suicide by drowning himself in the Paddington Canal. Byron, in a note to

Hints from Horace

, line 657, thus applies the incident:

"A literary friend of mine, walking out one lovely evening last summer, on the eleventh bridge of the Paddington canal, was alarmed by the cry of 'one in jeopardy:' he rushed along, collected a body of Irish haymakers (supping on buttermilk in an adjacent paddock), procured three rakes, one eel spear and a landing-net, and at last (horresco referens) pulled out—his own publisher. The unfortunate man was gone for ever, and so was a large quarto wherewith he had taken the leap, which proved, on inquiry, to have been Mr. Southey's last work. Its 'alacrity of sinking' was so great, that it has never since been heard of; though some maintain that it is at this moment concealed at Alderman Birch's pastry-premises, Cornhill. Be this as it may, the coroner's inquest brought in a verdict of 'Felo de Bibliopolâ' against a quarto unknown,' and circumstantial evidence being since strong against the Curse of Kehama (of which the above words are an exact description), it will be tried by its peers next session, in Grub Street—Arthur, Alfred, Davideis, Richard Coeur de Lion, Exodus, Exodiad, Epigoniad, Calvary, Fall of Cambria, Siege of Acre, Don Roderick, and Tom Thumb the Great, are the names of the twelve jurors. The judges are Pye, Bowles, and the bell-man of St. Sepulchre's."

190—to R.C. Dallas

Newstead Abbey, Sept. 17, 1811.

Dear Sir,—I have just discovered some pages of observations on the modern Greeks, written at Athens by me, under the title of

Noctes Atticæ

. They will do to

cut up

into notes, and to be

cut up

afterwards, which is all that notes are generally good for. They were written at Athens, as you will see by the date.

Yours ever,