The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals
Chapter 177 : "I hope your Lords.h.i.+p intends to give us more of 'Childe Harold'. I

"I hope your Lords.h.i.+p intends to give us more of 'Childe Harold'. I was delighted that my friend Jeffrey--for such, in despite of many a feud, literary and political, I always esteem him--has made so handsomely the 'amende honorable' for not having discovered in the bud the merits of the flower; and I am happy to understand that the retractation so handsomely made was received with equal liberality. These circ.u.mstances may perhaps some day lead you to revisit Scotland, which has a maternal claim upon you, and I need not say what pleasure I should have in returning my personal thanks for the honour you have done me. I am labouring here to contradict an old proverb, and make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, namely, to convert a bare 'haugh' and 'brae', of about 100 acres, into a comfortable farm. Now, although I am living in a gardener's hut, and although the adjacent ruins of Melrose have little to tempt one who has seen those of Athens, yet, should you take a tour which is so fas.h.i.+onable at this season, I should be very happy to have an opportunity of introducing you to anything remarkable in my fatherland. My neighbour, Lord Somerville, would, I am sure, readily supply the accommodations which I want, unless you prefer a couch in a closet, which is the utmost hospitality I have at present to offer. The fair, or shall I say the sage, Apreece that was, Lady Davy that is, is soon to show us how much science she leads captive in Sir Humphrey; so your Lords.h.i.+p sees, as the citizen's wife says in the farce, 'Thread-needle Street has some charms,' since they procure us such celebrated visitants. As for me, I would rather cross-question your Lords.h.i.+p about the outside of Parna.s.sus, than learn the nature of the contents of all the other mountains in the world. Pray, when under 'its cloudy canopy' did you hear anything of the celebrated Pegasus? Some say he has been brought off with other curiosities to Britain, and now covers at Tattersal's. I would fain have a cross from him out of my little moss-trooper's Galloway, and I think your Lords.h.i.+p can tell one how to set about it, as I recognise his true paces in the high-mettled description of Ali Pacha's military court.

"A wise man said--or, if not, I, who am no wise man, now say--that there is no surer mark of regard than when your correspondent ventures to write nonsense to you. Having, therefore, like Dogberry, bestowed all my tediousness upon your Lords.h.i.+p, you are to conclude that I have given you a convincing proof that I am very much

"Your Lords.h.i.+p's obliged and very faithful servant,

"WALTER SCOTT."

APPENDIX VI.

"THE GIANT AND THE DWARF."

The reply of Leigh Hunt's friends to Moore's squib, "The 'Living Dog'

and the 'Dead Lion'" (see Letter 291, p. 205, note 1 [Footnote 2]), ran as follows:

"THE GIANT AND THE DWARF.

"Humbly inscribed to T. Pidc.o.c.k, Esq., of Exeter 'Change.

"A Giant that once of a Dwarf made a friend, (And their friends.h.i.+p the Dwarf took care shouldn't be hid), Would now and then, out of his glooms, condescend To laugh at his antics,--as every one did.

"This Dwarf-an extremely diminutive Dwarf,-- In birth unlike G--y, though his pride was as big, Had been taken, when young, from the bogs of Clontarf, And though born quite a Helot, had grown up a Whig.

"He wrote little verses--and sung them withal, And the Giant's dark visions they sometimes could charm, Like the voice of the lute which had pow'r over Saul, And the song which could h.e.l.l and its legions disarm.

"The Giant was grateful, and offered him gold, But the Dwarf was indignant, and spurn'd at the offer: 'No, never!' he cried, 'shall _my_ friends.h.i.+p be sold For the sordid contents of another man's coffer!

"'What would Dwarfland, and Ireland, and every land say?

To what would so shocking a thing be ascribed?

_My Lady_ would think that I was in your pay, And the _Quarterly_ say that I must have been bribed.

"'You see how I'm puzzled; I don't say it wouldn't Be pleasant just now to have just that amount: But to take it in gold or in bank-notes!--I couldn't, I _wouldn't_ accept it--on any account.

"'But couldn't you just write your Autobiography, All fearless and personal, bitter and stinging?

Sure _that_, with a few famous heads in lithography, Would bring me far more than my Songs or my singing.

"'You know what I did for poor Sheridan's Life; _Your's_ is sure of my very best superintendence; I'll expunge what might point at your sister or wife,-- And I'll thus keep my priceless, unbought independence!'

"The Giant smiled grimly: he couldn't quite see What diff'rence there was on the face of the earth, Between the Dwarf's taking the money in fee, And his taking the same thing _in that money's worth_.

"But to please him he wrote; and the business was done: The Dwarf went immediately off to 'the Row;'

And ere the next night had pa.s.s'd over the sun, The MEMOIRS were purchas'd by Longman and Co.

"W. GYNGELL, Showman, Bartholomew Fair."

APPENDIX VII.

ATTACKS UPON BYRON IN THE NEWSPAPERS FOR FEBRUARY AND MARCH, 1814.

I. 'THE COURIER'.

(1) LORD BYRON ('The Courier', February 1, 1814).

A new Poem has just been published by the above n.o.bleman, and the 'Morning Chronicle' of to-day has favoured its readers with his Lords.h.i.+p's Dedication of it to THOMAS MOORE, Esq., in what that paper calls "an elegant eulogium." If the elegance of an eulogium consist in its extravagance, the 'Chronicle's' epithet is well chosen. But our purpose is not with the Dedication, nor the main Poem, 'The Corsair', but with one of the pieces called Poems, published at the end of the 'Corsair'. Nearly two years ago (in March, 1812), when the REGENT was attacked with a bitterness and rancour that disgusted the whole country; when attempts were made day after day to wound every feeling of the heart; there appeared in the 'Morning Chronicle' an anonymous 'Address to a Young Lady weeping', upon which we remarked at the time ('Courier of March' 7, 1812), considering it as tending to make the Princess CHARLOTTE of WALES view the PRINCE REGENT her father as an object of suspicion and disgrace. Few of our readers have forgotten the disgust which this address excited. The author of it, however, unwilling that it should sleep in the oblivion to which it had been consigned with the other trash of that day, has republished it, and, placed the first of what are called Poems at the end of this newly published work the Corsair, we find this very address:

"Weep daughter of a _royal_ line, A Sire's disgrace, a realm's decay;"

_Lord Byron thus avows himself to be the Author._

To be sure the Prince has been extremely _disgraced_ by the policy he has adopted, and the events which that policy has produced; and the realm has experienced _great decay_, no doubt, by the occurrences in the Peninsula, the resistance of Russia, the rising in Germany, the counter-revolution in Holland, and the defeat, disgrace, and shame of BUONAPARTE. But, instead of continuing our observations, suppose we parody his Lords.h.i.+p's Address, and apply it to February 1814:

TO A YOUNG LADY.

February, 1814.

"View! daughter of a royal line, A father's fame, a realm's renown: Ah! happy that that realm is thine, And that its father is thine own!

"View, and exulting view, thy fate, Which dooms thee o'er these blissful Isles To reign, (but distant be the date!) And, like thy Sire, deserve thy People's smiles."