Grace in his thoughts and music in his song. —
Let judgment teach him wisely to combine
With future parts the now omitted hne :
This shall the author choose, or that reject
Precise in style, and cautious to select.
Nor slight applause will candid pens afford
The dext'rous coiner of a wanting word.
* Mere common mortals were commonly content with
one tailor and one bill; but the more finished gentlemen
found it impossible to confide their lower garments to the
makers of their body-clothes. I speak of the beginning
of 1809 ; what reform may have since taken place I
neither know nor desire to know.
1
108 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Then fear not, if 'tis needful, to produce
Some term unknown, or obsolete in use :
As Pitt * has furnished us a word or two.
Which Lexicographers declined to do ;
So you, indeed, with care (but be content
To take this license rarely) may invent.
New words find credit in these latter days.
Adroitly grafted on a Gallic phrase ;
What Chaucer, Spenser did, we scarce refuse
To Dryden's or to Poi'e''s maturer muse.
If you can add a little, say, why not,
As well as William Pitt, and Walter Scott ?
Since they by force of rhyme and force of lungs.
Enriched our island's ill-united tongues ;
'Tis then — and shall be — lawful to present
Reforms in writing as in Parliament.
As forests shed their foliage by degrees,
So fade expressions, which in season please ;
And we and ours, alas, are due to fate,
And works and words but dwindle to a date.
Though as a monarch nods, and commerce calls,
Impetuous rivers stagnate in canals;
* Mr. Pitt was liberal in his additions to our Parliamen-
tary Tongue, as may be seen in many publications, par-
ticularly the Edinburgh Review.
LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 109
Though swamps subdued, and marshes dried, sustain
The heavy ploughshare, and the yellow grain ;
And rising ports along the busy shore.
Protect the vessel from old Ocean's roar ;
All, all must perish — but, surviving last,
The love of letters half preserves the past : —
Thus future years dead volumes shall revive.
And those shall sink which now appear to thrive*,
As custom arbitrates, whose shifting sway
Our life and language must alike obey.
The immortal wars which Gods and angels wage,
Are they not shown in Milton's sacred page ?
His strain -will teach what numbers best belong
To themes celestial told in Epic song.
The slow sad stanza will correctly paint
The lover's anguish, or the friend's complaint ;
But which deserves the laurel — rhyme — or blank?
Which holds on Helicon the higher rank ?
Let squabbling critics by themselves dispute
This point, as puzzhng as a chancery suit.
* Old ballads, old plays, and old women's stories, are at
present in as much request as old wine or newspapers : in
fact, this is the millennium of black-letter ; thanks to our
Webers and Scotts !
no RECOLLECTIONS OP THE
Satiric rhyme first sprang from selfish spleen ;
You doubt — see Dryden, Pope, St. Patrick's
Dean.*
Blank verse is now with one consent allied
To tragedy, and rarely quits her side :
Though mad Almanzor rhyni'd in Dryden's days.
No sing-song hero rants in modern plays ;
While modest comedy her verse foregoes,
To jest and pun-\ in very middling prose:
Not that our Bens or Beaumonts show the worse,
Or lose one point because they wrote in verse :
But so Thalia ventures to appear —
Poor Virgin ! damned some twenty times a-year.
******
'Tis hard to venture where our betters fail.
Or lend fresh interest to a twice-told tale.
And yet, perchance, 'tis wiser to prefer
A hackneyed plot, than choose a new, and err.
Yet copy not too closely, but record
More justly thought for thought, than word for word.
* M'Flecknoe, much of the Dunciad, and all Swift's
lampooning ballads.
+ With all the vulgar applause and critical abhorrence
of 2^uns, they have Aristotle on their side, who permits
them to orators, and gives them consequence by a grave
disquisition.
LIFE OF LORD BVRON. HI
Nor trace your prototype through narrow ways,
But only follow where he merits praise.
For you, J'oung bard, whom luckless fate may lead
To tremble on the nod of all who read.
Ere your first score of Cantos time unrolls.
Beware — for God's sake don't begin like Bowles*!
* About two years ago, a young man, named Town-
send, was announced by Mr. Cumberland (in a Review
since deceased) as being engaged in an epic poem, to be en-
titled " Armageddon." The plan and specimen promise
much ; but I hope neither to offend Mr. T. or his friends,
by recommending to his attention the hnes of Horace to
which these rhymes allude. If Mr. T. succeeds in his
undertaking, as there is reason to hope, how much will the
world be indebted to Mr. Cumberland for bringing him
before the public. But till that eventful day arrives, it
may be doubted v/hether the premature display of his
plan (subUme as the ideas confessedly are) has not, by
raising expectation too high, or diminishing curiosity by
developing his argument, rather incurred the hazard of
injuring Mr. T.'s future prospects. Mr. Cumberland
(whose talents I shall not depreciate by the humble tribute
of my praise) and Mr. T. must not suppose me actuated
by unworthy motives in this suggestion. I wish the
author all the success he can wish himself, and shall be
truly happy to see epic poetry weighed up from the bathos
where it lies sunken mth Southey, Cottle, Cov/ley, (Mrs.
112 RECOLLECTIONS OP THE
" Awake a louder and a loftier strain" —
And pray — what follows from his boiling brain?
He sinks to Southey's level in a trice.
Whose Epic mountains never fail in mice.
Not so of yore awoke your mighty sire
The tempered warbhngs of his master lyre.
Soft as the gentler breathing of the lute,
" Of man's first disobedience and the fruit^"*
He speaks, but as hi| subject swells along,
Earth, heaven, and Hades echo with the song.
or Abraham) Ogilvie, Wilkie, Page, and all the " dull of
past and present days."' Even if he is not a Milt on, he
may be better than a Blackmore ; if not a Homer, an
Antimachus. I should deem myself presumptuous, as
a young man, in offering advice, were it not addressed to
one stiU younger. Mr. T. has the greatest difficulties to
encounter ; but in conquering them he will find employ-
ment — in having conquered them — his reward. I know
too well the " scribbler's scoff, the critic's contumely,"
and I am afraid time -will teach Mr. T. to know them
better. Those who succeed and those who do not must
bear this alike, and it is hard to say which have most of
it. I trust that Mr. Townsend's share will be from
envy ; he wdU soon know mankind well enough not to
attribute this expression to maUce.
The above note was written before the author was ap-
prised of Mr. Cumberland's death.
LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 113
Still to the midst of things he hastens on,
As if we witnessed all already done ;
Leaves on his path whatever seems too mean
To raise the subject or adorn the scene ;
Gives, as each page improves upon the sight,
Not smoke from brightness, but from darkness Hght,
And truth and fiction with such art compounds,
We know not where to fix their several bounds.
In not disparaging this poem, however,
next day, I could not refrain from express-
ing some surprise that he had written
nothing else : upon which he told me that
he had occasionally written short poems,
besides a great many stanzas in Spenser's
measure, relative to the countries he had
visited. " They are not worth iroubhng
you with, but you shall have them all with
you if you like." So came I by Childe
Harolds Pilgrimage. He took it from a
small trunk, with a number of verses. He
said they had been read but by one person,
who had found very little to commend, and
much to condemn : that he himself was of
114 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
that opinion, and he was sure I should be
so too. Such as it was, however, it was
at my service ; but he was urgent that
" The Hints from Horace" should be imme-
diately put in train, which I promised to
have done. How much he was mistaken
as to my opinion, the following letter
shows. He was going next morning to
Harrow for a few days, but I was so
delighted with his poem that I could not
refrain from writing to him that very
evening, the 16th of July.
" You have written one of the most
delightful poems I ever read. If I wrote
this in flattery, I should deserve your con-
tempt rather than your friendship. Re-
member, I depend upon your considering
me superior to it. I have been so fasci-
nated with Childe Harold, that I have not
been able to lay it down. I would almost
pled e my life on its advancing the reputa-
LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 115
tion of your poetical powers, and of its
gaining you great honour and regard, if
you will do me the credit and favour of
attending to my suggestions respecting
some alterations and omissions which I
think indispensable. Not a line do I mean
to offer. I already know your sentiment
on that point — all shall be your own ; but
in having the magnanimity to sacrifice some
favourite stanzas, you will perhaps have a
little trouble, though indeed but a little,
in connecting the parts. I shall instantly
put the poem into my nephew's hands to
copy it precisely ; and I hope, on Friday or
Saturday morning, to take my breakfast
with you, as I did this morning. It is long
since I spent two hours so agreeably — not
only your kind expressions as to myself,
but the marked temperance of your mind,
gave me extreme pleasure."
Attentive as he had hitherto been to my
116 RECOLLECTIONS OP THE
opinions and suggestions, and natural as it
was that he should be swayed by such
decided praise, I was surprised to find that
I could not at first obtain credit with Lord
Byron for my judgment on Childe Harold's
Pilgrimage. " It was any thing but poetry
— it had been condemned by a good critic —
had I not myself seen the sentences on the
margins of the manuscript?" He dwelt
upon the paraphrase of the Art of Poetry
with pleasure ; and the manuscript of that
was given to Cawthorn, the publisher of
the Satire, to be brought forth without
delay. I did not, however, leave him so :
before I quitted him I returned to the
charge, and told him that I was so con-
vinced of the merit of Childe Harold's
Pilgrimage, that as he had given it to me,
I should certainly publish it, if he would
have the kindness to attend to some cor-
rections and alterations.
He at length seemed impressed by my
LIFE OF LORD BYROX. 117
perseverance, and took the poem into con*
sideration. He was at first unwilling to
alter or omit any of the stanzas, but they
could not be pubHshed as they stood.
Besides several weak and ludicrous passa-
ges, unworthy of the poem, there were some
of an offensive nature, which, on reflection,
his own feelings convinced him could not
with propriety be allowed to go into the
world. These he undertook to curtail and
soften ; but he persisted in preserving his
philosophical, free-thinking stanzas, rela-
tive to death. I had much friendly, but
unsuccessful contest with him on that
point, and I was obliged to be satisfied
with the hypothetical but most beautiful
stanza —
Yet if, as holiest men have deem'd, there be
A land of souls beyond that sable shore, &c.
which, in the course of our contention, he
sent me, to be inserted after the sceptical
118 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
stanzas in the beginning of the Second
Canto. He also sacrificed to me some
harsh poHtical reflections on the Govern-
ment, and a ludicrous stanza or two which
I thought injured the poem. I did all I
could to raise his opinion of this compo-
sition, and I succeeded; but he varied
much in his feelings about it, nor was he,
as will appear, at his ease, until the world
decided on its merit. He said again and
again, that I was going to get him into
a scrape with his old enemies, and that
none of them would rejoice more than the
Edinburgh Reviewers at an opportunity to
humble him. He said I must not put his
name to it. I entreated him to leave it to
me, and that I would answer for this poem
silencing all his enemies.
The publication of it being determined
upon, my first thought respecting a pub-
lisher was to give it to Cawthorn, as it
appeared to me right that he should have
LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 119
it who had done so well with the Poet's
former work ; but Cawthorn did not then
rank high among the brethren of the trade.
I found that this had been instilled into
Lord Byron's ear since his return to Eng-
land, probably at Harrow. I was sorry for
it; for instead of looking for fashionable
booksellers, he should, as Pope did, have
made his bookseller the most fashionable
one, and this he could easily have done.
He thought more modestly of himself, and
said he wished I would offer it to Miller, of
Albermarle-street. " Cawthorn had The
Hints from Horace — he always meant them
for him, and the Poems had better be
published by different booksellers." I could
not accord in the opinion, but I yielded of
course to his wish. It was but a step ; I
carried it up to Miller, and left it with
him, enjoining him the strictest secresy as
to the author. In a few days, by appoint-
ment, I called again to know his decision.
120 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
He declined publishing it. He noticed all
my objections; his critic had pointed them
out; but his chief objection he stated to
be the manner in which Lord Elgin was
treated in the poem. He was his book-
seller and publisher. When I reported
this to Lord Byron, his scruples and appre-
hensions of injuring his fame returned ; but
I overcame them, and he gave me leave to
publish with whom I pleased, requesting
me only to keep in mind what he had said
as to Cawthorn, and also the refusal of
Longman's house to publish his Satire.
Next to these I wished to oblige Mr.
Murray, who had then a shop opposite
St. Dunstan's church, in Fleet-street. Both
he and his father before him had published
for myself. He had expressed to me his
regret that I did not carry him the English
Bards and Scotch Reviewers. But this
was after its success — I think he would
have refused it in its embryo state. After
LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 121
Lord Byron's arrival, I had met him, and he
said he wished I would obtain some work of
his Lordship's for him. I now had it in my
power, and I put Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
into his hands, telling him that Lord Byron
had made me a present of it ; and that I
expected that he would make a very liberal
agreement with me for it. He took some
days to consider, during which time he
consulted his literary advisers, among
whom, no doubt, was Mr. GifFord, who
was the Editor of the Quarterly Review.
That Mr. GifFord gave a favourable opinion
I afterwards learned from Mr. Murray
himself; but the objections I have stated
stared him in the face, and he was kept
in suspense between the desire of pos-
sessing a work of Lord Byron's, and the
fear of an unsuccessful speculation. We
came to this conclusion; that he should
print, at his expense, a handsome quarto
edition, the profits of which I should share
122 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
equally with him, and that the agreement
for the copyright should depend upon the
success of this edition. When I told this
to Lord Byron he was highly pleased, but
still doubted the copyright being worth
my acceptance ; promising, however, if the
poem went through the edition to give me
other poems to annex to Childe Harold.
These preliminaries being settled, I per-
sisted in my attacks on the objectionable
parts of this delightful work, now formally
become mine. He wrote an introductory
stanza, for the second originally stood first,
polished some lines, and became in general
far more condescending and compliant than
I ever flattered myself I should find him ;
which I attributed to his clearly perceiving
how sincerely I loved him. Finding that
I could gain nothing in respect to the scep-
tical stanzas, the conciliatory one I have
already mentioned not having been written
at that time, I drew up a regular 'protest
LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 123
against them, and enclosed it to him in a
short letter just before he left town, which
departure, though always intended to be
soon,\/as at last, very sudden, inconsequence
of an express from Newstead Abbey, by
which he was informed that his mother's
life was despaired of, and urged to lose no
time in coming to the Abbey. He in-
stantly set off post with four horses, but,
alas ! she did not live to embrace him.
*' Within is my formal protest against the
sceptical stanzas of your poem. You have
seen no symptoms of a Puritan in me ; I
have seen none of a Scoffer in you. — You,
I know, can endure my sincerity ; I should
be sorry if I could not appreciate yours.
You have the uncommon virtue of not being
anxious to make others think as you do on
religious topics ; I, less disinterested, have
the greatest desire, not without great hope,
that you may one day think as I do."
124 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
ENCLOSURE.
The Protest of R. C. Dallas against certain Scep-
tical Stanzas in the Poem, entitled Childe Harold's
Pilgrimage.
Dissentient —
Because — Although among feeble and
corrupt men religions may take their turn ;
although Jupiter and Mahomet, and error
after error, may enter the brain of misguided
mortals, it does not follow t^at there is not
a true religion, or that the incense of the
heart ascends in vain, or that the faith of a
Christian is built on reeds.
Because — Although bound for a term to
the* earth, it is natural to hope, and rational
to expect, existence in another world; since,
if it be not so, the noblest attributes of
God, justice and goodness, must be sub-
tracted from our ideas of the great Creator ;
and although our senses make us acquainted
LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 125
with the chemical decomposition of our
bodies, it does not follow that he who has
power to create has not power to raise ; or
that he who had the will to give life and
hope of immortality, has not the will to
fulfil his virtual, not to say actual, promise.
Because — Although a skull well affords
a subject for moralizing; although in its
worm-eaten, worm-disdained state, it is so
far from being a temple worthy of a God,
that it is unworthy of the creature whom
it once served as the recess of wisdom and
of wit ; and although no saint, sage, or
sophist can refit it, — it does not follow that
God's power is limited, or that what is
sown in corruption may not be raised in
incorruption, that what is sown a natural
body may not be raised a spiritual body.
Because— ^The same authority, Socrates,
cited to prove how unequal the human
intellect is to fathom the designs of Om-
niscience and Omnipotence, is one of the
126 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Strongest in favour of the immortality of
the soul.
Because — Although there is good sense
and a kind intention expressed in these
words :— " I am no sneerer at thy phan-
tasy," " Thou pitiest me, alas ! I envy
thee,"— and " I ask thee not to prove a
Saducee;" yet the intention is counter-
acted by the sentiments avowed, and the
example pubhshed, by which the young
and the wavering may be detained in the
wretchedness of doubt, or confirmed in the
despair of unbelief.
Because — I think of the author of the
poem as Pope did of Garth, of whom he
said, " Garth is a christian, and does not
know it." Consequently, I think that he
will, one day, be sorry for pubhshing such
opinions.
LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 127
CHAPTER VI.
OPINIONS AND FEELINGS OF LORD BYRON
AFTER THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER.
At every step which I take in my task
of submitting to the pubUc my Recollec-
tions of Lord Byron, I feel a deeper regret
at the unfortunate necessity which deprives
them of his Correspondence. The letters,
which I received from him while he was
at Newstead, give a complete picture of
his mind, under circumstances peculiarly
calculated to call forth its most interest-
ing features. Our correspondence was
kept up without interruption. Upon ar-
riving at Newstead he found that his
mother had breathed her last. He suffered
much from this loss, and the disappointment
of not seeing her before her death; and
128 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
while his feehngs were still very acute,
within a few days of his arrival at the
Abbey, he received the intelligence that
Mr. M***, a very intimate friend of his
friend Mr. Hobhouse, and one whom he
highly estimated himself, had been drov/ned
in the Cam. He had not long before heard
of the death of his schoolfellow, Wingfield,
at Coimbra, to whom he was much attached.
He wrote me an account of these events in
a short but affecting letter. They had all
died within a month, he having just heard
from all three, but seen none. The letter
from Mr. M*** had been written the day
previous to his death. He could not restore
them by regret, and therefore, with a sigh
to the departed, he struggled to return to the
heavy routine of life, in the sure expectation
that all would one day have their repose. He
felt that his grief was selfish. He wished to
think upon any subject except death — he was
satiated with that. Having always four skulls
LIFE OP LORD BYRON, 129
in his library, he could look on them without
emotion ; but he could not allow his imagi-
nation to take off the fleshy covering from
those of his friends, without a horrible sen-
sation; and he thought that the Romans
were right in burning their deceased friends.
I wrote to him, and said :
" On my return home last night, I re-
ceived your letter, which renewed in my
mind some of the most painful ideas which
for many years accompanied me, or took
place of all others ; which, in spite of Phi-
losophy, and, yes, my lord, in spite of Reli-
gion, rendered my life wretched ; and which
time, in bringing me nearer to eternity, has
softened to such a degree, that they are now
far from being painful. But you deprecate
the subject, and I will not enlarge upon it,
though one I take some delight in. You
have, indeed, had enough within a very short
time, to make you prefer any other : yet I
130 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
must not lose the opportunity of saying once
more, what I imagine may have been said a
thousand times before, that is, how cruel a
present is a reflecting mind, if all existence
terminates with life! I feel much for your
friend Hobhouse. I supposed him embarked
for Ireland, en militaire, at the time that I
saw the account of Mr. M***'s fate in the
papers. Resignation, I must own, is a
difficult virtue when the heart is deeply
affected — at the same time, it is the part of
every man of sense to cultivate it, and to be
indebted for it rather to his reason, or his
religion, than to the influence of time. I
condemn myself, perhaps ; but the argument
may be of service to strong and active minds.
With respect to your friend Wingfield, it
must be some consolation to you to have
consecrated his memory in the stanzas you
have since inserted in your Poem ; and if
there should be a meeting hereafter, as
alluded to by the half-hoping stanza which
LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 131
you have added, let me flatter myself to
please me, the pleasure with him will not
be a little heightened by that memorial.
The funeral pile, the ashes preserved by
the asbestos, and inurned, are circumstances
more pleasing to the imagination than a
box, a hole, and worms ; but when the vivi-
fying principle has ceased to act, let me
say, when the soul is separated from the
chemical elements which constitute body.
Reason says it is of little importance
what becomes of them. Even in burning,
we cannot save all the body from mixing
with other natures : by the flames much is
carried off" into the atmosphere, and falls
again to the earth to fertilize it, and sustain
worms. Nay, in the entombed box, per-
haps, the dust is at last more purely pre-
served ; for though, in the course of decom-
position, it gives a temporary existence to a
loathsome creature, yet, in time, the rioted
worm dies too, and gives back to the mass
K2
132 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
of dust the share of substance which it
borrowed for its own form. I am afraid
this language borders on the subject I
meant to avoid."
Lord Byron disclaimed the acuteness
of feeling I attributed to him, because,
though he certainly felt unhappy, he was
nevertheless attacked by a kind of hysteri-
cal merriment, or rather a laughing without
merriment, which he could neither under-
stand nor overcome, and which gave him
no relief, while a spectator would think