"February 22. 1815.
"Yesterday I sent off the packet and letter to Edinburgh. It
consisted of forty-one pages, so that I have not added a line; but
in my letter, I mentioned what passed between you and me in autumn,
as my inducement for presuming to trouble him either with my own or
* *'s lucubrations. I am any thing but sure that it will do; but I
have told J. that if there is any decent raw material in it, he may
cut it into what shape he pleases, and warp it to his liking.
"So you _won't_ go abroad, then, with _me_,--but alone. I fully
purpose starting much about the time you mention, and alone, too.
"I hope J. won't think me very impudent in sending * * only: there
was not room for a syllable. I have avowed * * as the author, and
said that you thought or said, when I met you last, that he (J.)
would not be angry at the coalition, (though, alas! we have not
coalesced,) and so, if I have got into a scrape, I must get out of
it--Heaven knows how.
"Your Anacreon[70] is come, and with it I sealed (its first
impression) the packet and epistle to our patron.
"Curse the Melodies and the Tribes, to boot,[71] Braham is to
assist--or hath assisted--but will do no more good than a second
physician. I merely interfered to oblige a whim of K.'s, and all I
have got by it was 'a speech' and a receipt for stewed oysters.
"'Not meet'--pray don't say so. We must meet somewhere or somehow.
Newstead is out of the question, being nearly sold again, or, if
not, it is uninhabitable for my spouse. Pray write again. I will
soon.
"P.S. Pray when do you come out? ever, or never? I hope I have made
no blunder; but I certainly think you said to me, (after W * * th,
whom I first pondered upon, was given up,) that * * and I might
attempt * * * *. His length alone prevented me from trying my part,
though I should have been less severe upon the Reviewée.
"Your seal is the best and prettiest of my set, and I thank you
very much therefor. I have just been--or rather, ought to be--very
much shocked by the death of the Duke of Dorset. We were at school
together, and there I was passionately attached to him. Since, we
have never met--but once, I think, since 1805--and it would be a
paltry affectation to pretend that I had any feeling for him worth
the name. But there was a time in my life when this event would
have broken my heart; and all I can say for it now is that--it is
not worth breaking.
"Adieu--it is all a farce."
[Footnote 70: A seal, with the head of Anacreon, which I had given him.]
[Footnote 71: I had taken the liberty of laughing a little at the manner
in which some of his Hebrew Melodies had been set to music.]
* * * * *