by Thomas Moore
‘Makes’ is closer to the passage of Tacitus, from which the line is taken, and is, besides, a stronger word than ‘leaves’
“Mark where his carnage and his conquests cease — He makes a solitude, and calls it — peace.”
LETTER 148. TO MR. MURRAY.
“November 27. 1813.
“If you look over this carefully by the last proof with my corrections, it is probably right; this you can do as well or better; — I have not now time. The copies I mentioned to be sent to different friends last night, I should wish to be made up with the new Giaours, if it also is ready. If not, send The Giaour afterwards.
“The Morning Post says I am the author of Nourjahad!! This comes of lending the drawings for their dresses; but it is not worth a formal contradiction. Besides, the criticisms on the supposition will, some of them, be quite amusing and furious. The Orientalism — which I hear is very splendid — of the melodrame (whosever it is, and I am sure I don’t know) is as good as an advertisement for your Eastern Stories, by filling their heads with glitter.
“P.S. You will of course say the truth, that I am not the melodramist — if any one charges me in your presence with the performance.”
LETTER 149. TO MR. MURRAY.
“November 28. 1813.
“Send another copy (if not too much of a request) to Lady Holland of the Journal, in my name, when you receive this; it is for Earl Grey — and I will relinquish my own. Also to Mr. Sharpe, and Lady Holland, and Lady Caroline Lamb, copies of ‘The Bride’ as soon as convenient.
“P.S. Mr. Ward and myself still continue our purpose; but I shall not trouble you on any arrangement on the score of The Giaour and The Bride till our return, — or, at any rate, before May, 1814, — that is, six months from hence: and before that time you will be able to ascertain how far your offer may be a losing one; if so, you can deduct proportionably; and if not, I shall not at any rate allow you to go higher than your present proposal, which is very handsome, and more than fair.
“I have had — but this must be entre nous — a very kind note, on the subject of ‘The Bride,’ from Sir James Mackintosh, and an invitation to go there this evening, which it is now too late to accept.”
TO MR. MURRAY.
“November 29. 1813. Sunday — Monday morning — three o’clock — in my doublet and hose, — swearing.
“I send you in time an errata page, containing an omission of mine, which must be thus added, as it is too late for insertion in the text. The passage is an imitation altogether from Medea in Ovid, and is incomplete without these two lines. Pray let this be done, and directly; it is necessary, will add one page to your book (making), and can do no harm, and is yet in time for the public. Answer me, thou oracle, in the affirmative. You can send the loose pages to those who have copies already, if they like; but certainly to all the critical copyholders.
“P.S. I have got out of my bed, (in which, however, I could not sleep, whether I had amended this or not,) and so good morning. I am trying whether De l’Allemagne will act as an opiate, but I doubt it.”
TO MR. MURRAY.
“November 29. 1813.
“You have looked at it!’ to much purpose, to allow so stupid a blunder to stand; it is not ‘courage’ but ‘carnage;’ and if you don’t want me to cut my own throat, see it altered.
“I am very sorry to hear of the fall of Dresden.”
LETTER 150. TO MR. MURRAY.
“Nov. 29. 1813. Monday.
“You will act as you please upon that point; but whether I go or stay, I shall not say another word on the subject till May — nor then, unless quite convenient to yourself. I have many things I wish to leave to your care, principally papers. The vases need not be now sent, as Mr. Ward is gone to Scotland. You are right about the errata page; place it at the beginning. Mr. Perry is a little premature in his compliments: these may do harm by exciting expectation, and I think we ought to be above it — though I see the next paragraph is on the Journal, which makes me suspect you as the author of both.
“Would it not have been as well to have said ‘in two Cantos’ in the advertisement? they will else think of fragments, a species of composition very well for once, like one ruin in a view; but one would not build a town of them. The Bride, such as it is, is my first entire composition of any length (except the Satire, and be d —— d to it), for The Giaour is but a string of passages, and Childe Harold is, and I rather think always will be, unconcluded. I return Mr. Hay’s note, with thanks to him and you.
“There have been some epigrams on Mr. Ward: one I see to-day. The first I did not see, but heard yesterday. The second seems very bad. I only hope that Mr. Ward does not believe that I had any connection with either. I like and value him too well to allow my politics to contract into spleen, or to admire any thing intended to annoy him or his. You need not take the trouble to answer this, as I shall see you in the course of the afternoon.
“P.S. I have said this much about the epigrams, because I lived so much in the opposite camp, and, from my post as an engineer, might be suspected as the flinger of these hand-grenadoes; but with a worthy foe, I am all for open war, and not this bushfighting, and have not had, nor will have, any thing to do with it. I do not know the author.”
TO MR. MURRAY.
“Nov. 30. 1813.
“Print this at the end of all that is of ‘The Bride of Abydos,’ as an errata page. BN.
“Omitted, Canto 2d, page 47., after line 449.,
“So that those arms cling closer round my neck.
Read,
“Then if my lip once murmur, it must be No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee.”
TO MR. MURRAY.
“Tuesday evening, Nov. 30. 1813.
“For the sake of correctness, particularly in an errata page, the alteration of the couplet I have just sent (half an hour ago) must take place, in spite of delay or cancel; let me see the proof early to-morrow. I found out murmur to be a neuter verb, and have been obliged to alter the line so as to make it a substantive, thus —
“The deepest murmur of this lip shall be No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee!
Don’t send the copies to the country till this is all right.”
TO MR. MURRAY.
“Dec. 2. 1813.
“When you can, let the couplet enclosed be inserted either in the page, or in the errata page. I trust it is in time for some of the copies. This alteration is in the same part — the page but one before the last correction sent.
“P.S. I am afraid, from all I hear, that people are rather inordinate in their expectations, which is very unlucky, but cannot now be helped. This comes of Mr. Perry and one’s wise friends; but do not you wind your hopes of success to the same pitch, for fear of accidents, and I can assure you that my philosophy will stand the test very fairly; and I have done every thing to ensure you, at all events, from positive loss, which will be some satisfaction to both.”
TO MR. MURRAY.
“Dec. 3. 1813.
“I send you a scratch or two, the which heal. The Christian Observer is very savage, but certainly well written — and quite uncomfortable at the naughtiness of book and author. I rather suspect you won’t much like the present to be more moral, if it is to share also the usual fate of your virtuous volumes.
“Let me see a proof of the six before incorporation.”
TO MR. MURRAY.
“Monday evening, Dec. 6. 1813.
“It is all very well, except that the lines are not numbered properly, and a diabolical mistake, page 67., which must be corrected with the pen, if no other way remains; it is the omission of ‘not’ before ‘disagreeable,’ in the note on the amber rosary. This is really horrible, and nearly as bad as the stumble of mine at the threshold — I mean the misnomer of Bride. Pray do not let a copy go without the ‘not;’ it is nonsense, and worse than nonsense as it now stands. I wish the printer was saddled with a vampire.
“P.S. It is still hath instead of have in page 20.; never
was any one so misused as I am by your devils of printers.
“P.S. I hope and trust the ‘not’ was inserted in the first edition. We must have something — any thing — to set it right. It is enough to answer for one’s own bulls, without other people’s.”
LETTER 151. TO MR. MURRAY.
“December 27. 1813.
“Lord Holland is laid up with the gout, and would feel very much obliged if you could obtain, and send as soon as possible, Madame d’Arblay’s (or even Miss Edgeworth’s) new work. I know they are not out; but it is perhaps possible for your Majesty to command what we cannot with much suing purchase, as yet. I need not say that when you are able or willing to confer the same favour on me, I shall be obliged. I would almost fall sick myself to get at Madame d’Arblay’s writings.
“P.S. You were talking to-day of the American edition of a certain unquenchable memorial of my younger days. As it can’t be helped now, I own I have some curiosity to see a copy of trans-Atlantic typography. This you will perhaps obtain, and one for yourself; but I must beg that you will not import more, because, seriously, I do wish to have that thing forgotten as much as it has been forgiven.
“If you send to the Globe editor, say that I want neither excuse nor contradiction, but merely a discontinuance of a most ill-grounded charge. I never was consistent in any thing but my politics; and as my redemption depends on that solitary virtue, it is murder to carry away my last anchor.”
Of these hasty and characteristic missives with which he despatched off his “still-breeding thoughts,” there yet remain a few more that might be presented to the reader; but enough has here been given to show the fastidiousness of his self-criticism, as well as the restless and unsatisfied ardour with which he pressed on in pursuit of perfection, — still seeing, according to the usual doom of genius, much farther than he could reach.
An appeal was, about this time, made to his generosity, which the reputation of the person from whom it proceeded would, in the minds of most people, have justified him in treating with disregard, but which a more enlarged feeling of humanity led him to view in a very different light; for, when expostulated with by Mr. Murray on his generous intentions towards one “whom nobody else would give a single farthing to,” he answered, “it is for that very reason I give it, because nobody else will.” The person in question was Mr. Thomas Ashe, author of a certain notorious publication called “The Book,” which, from the delicate mysteries discussed in its pages, attracted far more notice than its talent, or even mischief, deserved. In a fit, it is to be hoped, of sincere penitence, this man wrote to Lord Byron, alleging poverty as his excuse for the vile uses to which he had hitherto prostituted his pen, and soliciting his Lordship’s aid towards enabling him to exist, in future, more reputably. To this application the following answer, marked, in the highest degree, by good sense, humanity, and honourable sentiment, was returned by Lord Byron: —
LETTER 152. TO MR. ASHE.
“4. Bennet Street, St. James’s, Dec. 14. 1813.
“Sir,
“I leave town for a few days to-morrow; on my return, I will answer your letter more at length. Whatever may be your situation, I cannot but commend your resolution to abjure and abandon the publication and composition of works such as those to which you have alluded. Depend upon it they amuse few, disgrace both reader and writer, and benefit none. It will be my wish to assist you, as far as my limited means will admit, to break such a bondage. In your answer, inform me what sum you think would enable you to extricate yourself from the hands of your employers, and to regain, at least, temporary independence, and I shall be glad to contribute my mite towards it. At present, I must conclude. Your name is not unknown to me, and I regret, for your own sake, that you have ever lent it to the works you mention. In saying this, I merely repeat your own words in your letter to me, and have no wish whatever to say a single syllable that may appear to insult your misfortunes. If I have, excuse me; it is unintentional. Yours, &c.
“BYRON.”
In answer to this letter, Ashe mentioned, as the sum necessary to extricate him from his difficulties, 150l. — to be advanced at the rate of ten pounds per month; and, some short delay having occurred in the reply to this demand, the modest applicant, in renewing his suit, complained, it appears, of neglect: on which Lord Byron, with a good temper which few, in a similar case, could imitate, answered him as follows: —
LETTER 153. TO MR. ASHE.
“January 5. 1814.
“Sir,
“When you accuse a stranger of neglect, you forget that it is possible business or absence from London may have interfered to delay his answer, as has actually occurred in the present instance. But to the point. I am willing to do what I can to extricate you from your situation. Your first scheme I was considering; but your own impatience appears to have rendered it abortive, if not irretrievable. I will deposit in Mr. Murray’s hands (with his consent) the sum you mentioned, to be advanced for the time at ten pounds per month.
“P.S. — I write in the greatest hurry, which may make my letter a little abrupt; but, as I said before, I have no wish to distress your feelings.”
The service thus humanely proffered was no less punctually performed; and the following is one of the many acknowledgments of payment which I find in Ashe’s letters to Mr. Murray:— “I have the honour to enclose you another memorandum for the sum of ten pounds, in compliance with the munificent instructions of Lord Byron.”
His friend, Mr. Merivale, one of the translators of those Selections from the Anthology which we have seen he regretted so much not having taken with him on his travels, published a poem about this time, which he thus honours with his praise.
LETTER 154. TO MR. MERIVALE.
“January, 1814.
“My dear Merivale,
“I have redde Roncesvaux with very great pleasure, and (if I were so disposed) see very little room for criticism. There is a choice of two lines in one of the last Cantos, — I think ‘Live and protect’ better, because ‘Oh who?’ implies a doubt of Roland’s power or inclination. I would allow the — but that point you yourself must determine on — I mean the doubt as to where to place a part of the Poem, whether between the actions or no. Only if you wish to have all the success you deserve, never listen to friends, and — as I am not the least troublesome of the number, least of all to me.
“I hope you will be out soon. March, sir, March is the month for the trade, and they must be considered. You have written a very noble Poem, and nothing but the detestable taste of the day can do you harm, — but I think you will beat it. Your measure is uncommonly well chosen and wielded.”
In the extracts from his Journal, just given, there is a passage that cannot fail to have been remarked, where, in speaking of his admiration of some lady, whose name he has himself left blank, the noble writer says— “a wife would be the salvation of me.” It was under this conviction, which not only himself but some of his friends entertained, of the prudence of his taking timely refuge in matrimony from those perplexities which form the sequel of all less regular ties, that he had been induced, about a year before, to turn his thoughts seriously to marriage, — at least, as seriously as his thoughts were ever capable of being so turned, — and chiefly, I believe, by the advice and intervention of his friend Lady Melbourne, to become a suitor for the hand of a relative of that lady, Miss Milbanke. Though his proposal was not then accepted, every assurance of friendship and regard accompanied the refusal; a wish was even expressed that they should continue to write to each other, and a correspondence, in consequence, — somewhat singular between two young persons of different sexes, inasmuch as love was not the subject of it, — ensued between them. We have seen how highly Lord Byron estimated as well the virtues as the accomplishments of the young lady; but it is evident that on neither side, at this period, was love either felt or professed.
In the mean time, new entanglements, in which his heart was the willing dupe of his fancy and vanity, came to engr
oss the young poet: and still, as the usual penalties of such pursuits followed, he again found himself sighing for the sober yoke of wedlock, as some security against their recurrence. There were, indeed, in the interval between Miss Milbanke’s refusal and acceptance of him, two or three other young women of rank who, at different times, formed the subject of his matrimonial dreams. In the society of one of these, whose family had long honoured me with their friendship, he and I passed much of our time, during this and the preceding spring; and it will be found that, in a subsequent part of his correspondence, he represents me as having entertained an anxious wish that he should so far cultivate my fair friend’s favour as to give a chance, at least, of matrimony being the result.
That I, more than once, expressed some such feeling is undoubtedly true. Fully concurring with the opinion, not only of himself, but of others of his friends, that in marriage lay his only chance of salvation from the sort of perplexing attachments into which he was now constantly tempted, I saw in none of those whom he admired with more legitimate views so many requisites for the difficult task of winning him into fidelity and happiness as in the lady in question. Combining beauty of the highest order with a mind intelligent and ingenuous, — having just learning enough to give refinement to her taste, and far too much taste to make pretensions to learning, — with a patrician spirit proud as his own, but showing it only in a delicate generosity of spirit, a feminine high-mindedness, which would have led her to tolerate his defects in consideration of his noble qualities and his glory, and even to sacrifice silently some of her own happiness rather than violate the responsibility in which she stood pledged to the world for his; — such was, from long experience, my impression of the character of this lady; and perceiving Lord Byron to be attracted by her more obvious claims to admiration, I felt a pleasure no less in rendering justice to the still rarer qualities which she possessed, than in endeavouring to raise my noble friend’s mind to the contemplation of a higher model of female character than he had, unluckily for himself, been much in the habit of studying.
