"Venice, December 4, 1816.
"I have written to you so frequently of late, that you will think
me a bore; as I think you a very impolite person, for not answering
my letters from Switzerland, Milan, Verona, and Venice. There are
some things I wanted, and want, to know, viz. whether Mr. Davies,
of inaccurate memory, had or had not delivered the MS. as delivered
to him; because, if he has not, you will find that he will
bountifully bestow transcriptions on all the curious of his
acquaintance, in which case you may probably find your publication
anticipated by the 'Cambridge' or other Chronicles. In the next
place,--I forget what was next; but in the third place, I want to
hear whether you have yet published, or when you mean to do so, or
why you have not done so, because in your last (Sept. 20th,--you
may be ashamed of the date), you talked of this being done
immediately.
"From England I hear nothing, and know nothing of any thing or any
body. I have but one correspondent (except Mr. Kinnaird on business
now and then), and her a female; so that I know no more of your
island, or city, than the Italian version of the French papers
chooses to tell me, or the advertisements of Mr. Colburn tagged to
the end of your Quarterly Review for the year _ago_. I wrote to you
at some length last week, and have little to add, except that I
have begun, and am proceeding in, a study of the Armenian language,
which I acquire, as well as I can, at the Armenian convent, where I
go every day to take lessons of a learned friar, and have gained
some singular and not useless information with regard to the
literature and customs of that oriental people. They have an
establishment here--a church and convent of ninety monks, very
learned and accomplished men, some of them. They have also a press,
and make great efforts for the enlightening of their nation. I find
the language (which is _twin_, the _literal_ and the _vulgar_)
difficult, but not invincible (at least I hope not). I shall go on.
I found it necessary to twist my mind round some severer study,
and this, as being the hardest I could devise here, will be a file
for the serpent.
"I mean to remain here till the spring, so address to me _directly_
to _Venice, poste restante_.--Mr. Hobhouse, for the present, is
gone to Rome, with his brother, brother's wife, and sister, who
overtook him here: he returns in two months. I should have gone
too, but I fell in love, and must stay that over. I should think
_that_ and the Armenian alphabet will last the winter. The lady
has, luckily for me, been less obdurate than the language, or,
between the two, I should have lost my remains of sanity. By the
way, she is not an Armenian but a Venetian, as I believe I told you
in my last. As for Italian, I am fluent enough, even in its
Venetian modification, which is something like the Somersetshire
version of English; and as for the more classical dialects, I had
not forgot my former practice much during my voyaging.
"Yours, ever and truly,
"B.
"P.S. Remember me to Mr. Gifford."
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