"My dear Moore,
"'When Rogers' must not see the enclosed, 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.[70]
"Ever yours," &c.
1.
"When T * * 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 T * *, throw me thine in."
[Footnote 63: The following are the lines in their present shape, and it
will be seen that there is not a single alteration in which the music of
the verse has not been improved as well as the thought:--
"Fair clime! where every season smiles
Benignant o'er those blessed isles,
Which, seen from far Colonna's height,
Make glad the heart that hails the sight,
And lend to loneliness delight.
There, mildly dimpling, Ocean's cheek
Reflects the tints of many a peak
Caught by the laughing tides that lave
These Edens of the eastern wave:
And if at times a transient breeze
Break the blue crystal of the seas,
Or sweep one blossom from the trees,
How welcome is each gentle air
That wakes and wafts the odours there!"
]
[Footnote 64: Mr. Jeffrey.]
[Footnote 65: In Dallaway's Constantinople, a book which Lord Byron is
not unlikely to have consulted, I find a passage quoted from Gillies's
History of Greece, which contains, perhaps, the first seed of the
thought thus expanded into full perfection by genius:--"The present
state of Greece compared to the ancient is the silent obscurity of the
grave contrasted with the vivid lustre of active life."]
[Footnote 66: Among the recorded instances of such happy after-thoughts
in poetry may be mentioned, as one of the most memorable, Denham's four
lines, "Oh could I flow like thee," &c., which were added in the second
edition of his poem.]
[Footnote 67: Letters on the Character and Poetical Genius of Lord
Byron, by Sir Egerton Brydges, Bart.]
[Footnote 68: "Continuus aspectus minus verendos magnos homines facit."]
[Footnote 69: The only peculiarity that struck me on those occasions was
the uneasy restlessness which he seemed to feel in wearing a hat,--an
article of dress which, from his constant use of a carriage while in
England, he was almost wholly unaccustomed to, and which, after that
year, I do not remember to have ever seen upon him again. Abroad, he
always wore a kind of foraging cap.]
[Footnote 70: He here alludes to a dinner at Mr. Rogers's, of which I
have elsewhere given the following account:--
"The company consisted but of Mr. Rogers himself, Lord Byron, Mr.
Sheridan, and the writer of this Memoir. Sheridan knew the admiration
his audience felt for him; the presence of the young poet, in
particular, seemed to bring back his own youth and wit; and the details
he gave of his early life were not less interesting and animating to
himself than delightful to us. It was in the course of this evening
that, describing to us the poem which Mr. Whitbread had written, and
sent in, among the other addresses for the opening of Drury Lane
theatre, and which, like the rest, turned chiefly on allusions to the
Phoenix, he said--'But Whitbread made more of this bird than any of
them:--he entered into particulars, and described its wings, beak, tail,
&c.;--in short, it was a _poulterer_'s description of a Phoenix."--_Life
of Sheridan_.]
* * * * *
On the same day I received from him the following additional scraps. The
lines in italics are from the eulogy that provoked his waggish
comments.
"TO ----
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,
Enquire amongst your fellow-lodgers,
They'll tell you Phoebus 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 * *'s unmarried,
Or Liverpool weeps o'er his blunders;
When Tories and Whigs cease to quarrel,
When C * *'s wife has an heir,
Then Rogers shall ask us for laurel,
And thou shalt have plenty to spare."
The mention which he makes of Sheridan in the note just cited affords a
fit opportunity of producing, from one of his Journals, some particulars
which he has noted down respecting this extraordinary man, for whose
talents he entertained the most unbounded admiration,--rating him, in
natural powers, far above all his great political contemporaries.
"In society I have met Sheridan frequently: he was superb! He had a sort
of liking for me, and never attacked me, at least to my face, and he did
every body else--high names, and wits, and orators, some of them poets
also. I have seen him cut up Whitbread, quiz Madame de Staël, annihilate
Colman, and do little less by some others (whose names, as friends, I
set not down) of good fame and ability.
"The last time I met him was, I think, at Sir Gilbert Heathcote's, where
he was as quick as ever--no, it was not the last time; the last time was
at Douglas Kinnaird's.
"I have met him in all places and parties,--at Whitehall with the
Melbournes, at the Marquis of Tavistock's, at Robins's the auctioneer's,
at Sir Humphrey Davy's, at Sam Rogers's,--in short, in most kinds of
company, and always found him very convivial and delightful.
"I have seen Sheridan weep two or three times. It may be that he was
maudlin; but this only renders it more impressive, for who would see
"From Marlborough's eyes the tears of dotage flow,
And Swift expire a driveller and a show?
Once I saw him cry at Robins's the auctioneer's, after a splendid
dinner, full of great names and high spirits. I had the honour of
sitting next to Sheridan. The occasion of his tears was some observation
or other upon the subject of the sturdiness of the Whigs in resisting
office and keeping to their principles: Sheridan turned round:--'Sir, it
is easy for my Lord G. or Earl G. or Marquis B. or Lord H. with
thousands upon thousands a year, some of it either _presently_ derived,
or _inherited_ in sinecure or acquisitions from the public money, to
boast of their patriotism and keep aloof from temptation; but they do
not know from what temptation those have kept aloof who had equal pride,
at least equal talents, and not unequal passions, and nevertheless knew
not in the course of their lives what it was to have a shilling of their
own.' And in saying this he wept.
"I have more than once heard him say, 'that he never had a shilling of
his own.' To be sure, he contrived to extract a good many of other
people's.
"In 1815, I had occasion to visit my lawyer in Chancery Lane, he was
with Sheridan. After mutual greetings, &c., Sheridan retired first.
Before recurring to my own business, I could not help enquiring _that_
of Sheridan. 'Oh,' replied the attorney, 'the usual thing! to stave off
an action from his wine-merchant, my client.'--'Well,' said I, 'and what
do you mean to do?'--'Nothing at all for the present,' said he: 'would
you have us proceed against old Sherry? what would be the use of it?'
and here he began laughing, and going over Sheridan's good gifts of
conversation.
"Now, from personal experience, I can vouch that my attorney is by no
means the tenderest of men, or particularly accessible to any kind of
impression out of the statute or record; and yet Sheridan, in half an
hour, had found the way to soften and seduce him in such a manner, that
I almost think he would have thrown his client (an honest man, with all
the laws, and some justice, on his side) out of the window, had he come
in at the moment.
"Such was Sheridan! he could soften an attorney! There has been nothing
like it since the days of Orpheus.
"One day I saw him take up his own 'Monody on Garrick.' He lighted upon
the Dedication to the Dowager Lady * *. On seeing it, he flew into a
rage, and exclaimed, 'that it must be a forgery, that he had never
dedicated any thing of his to such a d----d canting,' &c. &c. &c--and so
went on for half an hour abusing his own dedication, or at least the
object of it. If all writers were equally sincere, it would be
ludicrous.
"He told me that, on the night of the grand success of his School for
Scandal, he was knocked down and put into the watch-house for making a
row in the street, and being found intoxicated by the watchmen.
"When dying, he was requested to undergo 'an operation.' He replied,
that he had already submitted to two, which were enough for one man's
lifetime. Being asked what they were, he answered, 'having his hair cut,
and sitting for his picture.'
"I have met George Colman occasionally, and thought him extremely
pleasant and convivial. Sheridan's humour, or rather wit, was always
saturnine, and sometimes savage; he never laughed, (at least that _I_
saw, and I watched him,) but Colman did. If I had to _choose_, and could
not have both at a time, I should say, 'Let me begin the evening with
Sheridan, and finish it with Colman.' Sheridan for dinner, Colman for
supper; Sheridan for claret or port, but Colman for every thing, from
the madeira and champagne at dinner, the claret with a _layer_ of _port_
between the glasses, up to the punch of the night, and down to the grog,
or gin and water, of daybreak;--all these I have threaded with both the
same. Sheridan was a grenadier company of life-guards, but Colman a
whole regiment--of _light infantry_, to be sure, but still a regiment."
It was at this time that Lord Byron became acquainted (and, I regret to
have to add, partly through my means) with Mr. Leigh Hunt, the editor of
a well-known weekly journal, the Examiner. This gentleman I had myself
formed an acquaintance with in the year 1811, and, in common with a
large portion of the public, entertained a sincere admiration of his
talents and courage as a journalist. The interest I took in him
personally had been recently much increased by the manly spirit, which
he had displayed throughout a prosecution instituted against himself and
his brother, for a libel that had appeared in their paper on the Prince
Regent, and in consequence of which they were both sentenced to
imprisonment for two years. It will be recollected that there existed
among the Whig party, at this period, a strong feeling of indignation at
the late defection from themselves and their principles of the
illustrious personage who had been so long looked up to as the friend
and patron of both. Being myself, at the time, warmly--perhaps
intemperately--under the influence of this feeling, I regarded the fate
of Mr. Hunt with more than common interest, and, immediately on my
arrival in town, paid him a visit in his prison. On mentioning the
circumstance, soon after, to Lord Byron, and describing my surprise at
the sort of luxurious comforts with which I had found the "wit in the
dungeon" surrounded,--his trellised flower-garden without, and his
books, busts, pictures, and piano-forte within,--the noble poet, whose
political view of the case coincided entirely with my own, expressed a
strong wish to pay a similar tribute of respect to Mr. Hunt, and
accordingly, a day or two after, we proceeded for that purpose to the
prison. The introduction which then took place was soon followed by a
request from Mr. Hunt that we would dine with him; and the noble poet
having good-naturedly accepted the invitation, Horsemonger Lane gaol
had, in the month of June, 1813, the honour of receiving Lord Byron, as
a guest, within its walls.
On the morning of our first visit to the journalist, I received from
Lord Byron the following lines written, it will be perceived, the night
before:--
"May 19. 1813.
"Oh you, who in all names can tickle the town,
Anacreon, Tom Little, Tom Moore, or Tom Brown,--
For hang me if I know of which you may most brag,
Your Quarto two-pounds, or your Twopenny Post Bag;
* * * *
But now to my letter--to yours 'tis an answer--
To-morrow be with me, as soon as you can, sir,
All ready and dress'd for proceeding to spunge on
(According to compact) the wit in the dungeon--
Pray Phoebus at length our political malice
May not get us lodgings within the same palace!
I suppose that to-night you're engaged with some codgers,
And for Sotheby's Blues have deserted Sam Rogers;
And I, though with cold I have nearly my death got,
Must put on my breeches, and wait on the Heathcote.
But to-morrow at four, we will both play the Scurra,
And you'll be Catullus, the R----t Mamurra.
"Dear M.--having got thus far, I am interrupted by * * * *. 10
o'clock.
"Half-past 11. * * * * is gone. I must dress for Lady
Heathcote's.--Addio."
* * * * *
Our day in the prison was, if not agreeable, at least novel and odd. I
had, for Lord Byron's sake, stipulated with our host beforehand, that
the party should be, as much as possible, confined to ourselves; and, as
far as regarded dinner, my wishes had been attended to;--there being
present, besides a member or two of Mr. Hunt's own family, no other
stranger, that I can recollect, but Mr. Mitchell, the ingenious
translator of Aristophanes. Soon after dinner, however, there dropped in
some of our host's literary friends, who, being utter strangers to Lord
Byron and myself, rather disturbed the ease into which we were all
settling. Among these, I remember, was Mr. John Scott,--the writer,
afterwards, of some severe attacks on Lord Byron; and it is painful to
think that, among the persons then assembled round the poet, there
should have been _one_ so soon to step forth the assailant of his living
fame, while _another_, less manful, was to reserve the cool venom for
his grave.
On the 2d of June, in presenting a petition to the House of Lords, he
made his third and last appearance as an orator, in that assembly. In
his way home from the House that day, he called, I remember, at my
lodgings, and found me dressing in a very great hurry for dinner. He
was, I recollect, in a state of most humorous exaltation after his
display, and, while I hastily went on with my task in the dressing-room,
continued to walk up and down the adjoining chamber, spouting forth for
me, 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?" I asked, interrupting him in his
eloquence.--"The grievance?" he repeated, pausing as if to
consider--"Oh, that I forget."[71] It is impossible, of course, to
convey an idea of the dramatic humour with which he gave effect to
these words; but his look and manner on such occasions were
irresistibly comic; and it was, indeed, rather in such turns of fun and
oddity, than in any more elaborate exhibition of wit, that the
pleasantry of his conversation consisted.
Though it is evident that, after the brilliant success of Childe Harold,
he had ceased to think of Parliament as an arena of ambition, yet, as a
field for observation, we may take for granted it was not unstudied by
him. To a mind of such quick and various views, every place and pursuit
presented some aspect of interest; and whether in the ball-room, the
boxing-school, or the senate, all must have been, by genius like his,
turned to profit. The following are a few of the recollections and
impressions which I find recorded by himself of his short parliamentary
career:--
"I have never heard any one who fulfilled my ideal of an orator. Grattan
would have been near it, but for his harlequin delivery. Pitt I never
heard. Fox but once, and then he struck me as a debater, which to me
seems as different from an orator as an improvisatore, or a versifier,
from a poet. Grey is great, but it is not oratory. Canning is sometimes
very like one. Windham I did not admire, though all the world did; it
seemed sad sophistry. Whitbread was the Demosthenes of bad taste and
vulgar vehemence, but strong, and English. Holland is impressive from
sense and sincerity. Lord Lansdowne good, but still a debater only.
Grenville I like vastly, if he would prune his speeches down to an
hour's delivery. Burdett is sweet and silvery as Belial himself, and I
think the greatest favourite in Pandemonium; at least I always heard the
country gentlemen and the ministerial devilry praise his speeches _up_
stairs, and run down from Bellamy's when he was upon his legs. I heard
Bob Milnes make his _second_ speech; it made no impression. I like
Ward--studied, but keen, and sometimes eloquent. Peel, my school and
form fellow (we sat within two of each other), strange to say, I have
never heard, though I often wished to do so; but from what I remember of
him at Harrow, he _is_, or _should_ be, among the best of them. Now I do
_not_ admire Mr. Wilberforce's speaking; it is nothing but a flow of
words--'words, words, alone.'
"I doubt greatly if the English have any eloquence, properly so called;
and am inclined to think that the Irish _had_ a great deal, and that the
French _will_ have, and have had in Mirabeau. Lord Chatham and Burke are
the nearest approaches to orators in England. I don't know what Erskine
may have been at the bar, but in the House I wish him at the bar once
more. Lauderdale is shrill, and Scotch, and acute.
"But amongst all these, good, bad, and indifferent, I never heard the
speech which was not too long for the auditors, and not very
intelligible, except here and there. The whole thing is a grand
deception, and as tedious and tiresome as may be to those who must be
often present. I heard Sheridan only once, and that briefly, but I liked
his voice, his manner, and his wit: and he is the only one of them I
ever wished to hear at greater length.
"The impression of Parliament upon me was, that its members are not
formidable as _speakers_, but very much so as an _audience_; because in
so numerous a body there may be little eloquence, (after all, there were
but _two_ thorough orators in all antiquity, and I suspect still _fewer_
in modern times,) but there must be a leaven of thought and good sense
sufficient to make them _know_ what is right, though they can't express
it nobly.
"Horne Tooke and Roscoe both are said to have declared that they left
Parliament with a higher opinion of its aggregate integrity and
abilities than that with which they entered it. The general amount of
both in most Parliaments is probably about the same, as also the number
of _speakers_ and their talent. I except _orators_, of course, because
they are things of ages, and not of septennial or triennial re-unions.
Neither House ever struck me with more awe or respect than the same
number of Turks in a divan, or of Methodists in a barn, would have done.
Whatever diffidence or nervousness I felt (and I felt both, in a great
degree) arose from the number rather than the quality of the assemblage,
and the thought rather of the _public without_ than the persons
within,--knowing (as all know) that Cicero himself, and probably the
Messiah, could never have altered the vote of a single lord of the
bedchamber, or bishop. I thought _our_ House dull, but the other
animating enough upon great days.
"I have heard that when Grattan made his first speech in the English
Commons, it was for some minutes doubtful whether to laugh at or cheer
him. The _débût_ of his predecessor, Flood, had been a complete failure,
under nearly similar circumstances. But when the ministerial part of our
senators had watched Pitt (their thermometer) for the cue, and saw him
nod repeatedly his stately nod of approbation, they took the hint from
their huntsman, and broke out into the most rapturous cheers. Grattan's
speech, indeed, deserved them; it was a _chef-d'oeuvre_. I did not hear
_that_ speech of his (being then at Harrow), but heard most of his
others on the same question--also that on the war of 1815. I differed
from his opinions on the latter question, but coincided in the general
admiration of his eloquence.
"When I met old Courtenay, the orator, at Rogers's, the poet's, in
1811-12, I was much taken with the portly remains of his fine figure,
and the still acute quickness of his conversation. It was _he_ who
silenced Flood in the English House by a crushing reply to a hasty
_débût_ of the rival of Grattan in Ireland. I asked Courtenay (for I
like to trace motives) if he had not some personal provocation; for the
acrimony of his answer seemed to me, as I had read it, to involve it.
Courtenay said 'he had; that, when in Ireland (being an Irishman), at
the bar of the Irish House of Commons, Flood had made a personal and
unfair attack upon _himself_, who, not being a member of that House,
could not defend himself, and that some years afterwards the opportunity
of retort offering in the English Parliament, he could not resist it.'
He certainly repaid Flood with interest, for Flood never made any
figure, and only a speech or two afterwards, in the English House of
Commons. I must except, however, his speech on Reform in 1790, which Fox
called 'the best he ever heard upon that subject.'"
For some time he had entertained thoughts of going again abroad; and it
appeared, indeed, to be a sort of relief to him, whenever he felt
melancholy or harassed, to turn to the freedom and solitude of a life of
travel as his resource. During the depression of spirits which he
laboured under, while printing Childe Harold, "he would frequently,"
says Mr. Dallas, "talk of selling Newstead, and of going to reside at
Naxos, in the Grecian Archipelago,--to adopt the eastern costume and
customs, and to pass his time in studying the Oriental languages and
literature." The excitement of the triumph that soon after ensued, and
the success which, in other pursuits besides those of literature,
attended him, again diverted his thoughts from these migratory projects.
But the roving fit soon returned; and we have seen, from one of his
letters to Mr. William Bankes, that he looked forward to finding
himself, in the course of this spring, among the mountains of his
beloved Greece once more. For a time, this plan was exchanged for the
more social project of accompanying his friends, the family of Lord
Oxford, to Sicily; and it was while engaged in his preparatives for this
expedition that the annexed letters were written.
[Footnote 71: His speech was on presenting a petition from Major
Cartwright.]
* * * * *