192—to R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 23, 1811.
Lisboa
is
the
Portuguese word, consequently the very best. Ulissipont is pedantic; and as I have
Hellas
and
Eros
not long before, there would be something like an affectation of Greek terms, which I wish to avoid, since I shall have a perilous quantity of
modern
Greek in my notes, as specimens of the tongue; therefore Lisboa may keep its place. You are right about the
Hints
; they must not precede the
Romaunt
; but Cawthorn will be savage if they don't; however, keep
them
back, and
him
in
good humour
, if we can, but do not let him publish.
I have adopted, I believe, most of your suggestions, but "Lisboa" will be an exception to prove the rule. I have sent a quantity of notes, and shall continue; but pray let them be copied; no devil can read my hand.
By
the by, I do not mean to exchange the ninth verse of the "Good Night."
I have no reason to suppose my dog better than his brother brutes, mankind; and
Argus
we know to be a fable. The
Cosmopolite
was an acquisition abroad. I do not believe it is to be found in England. It is an amusing little volume, and full of French flippancy. I read, though I do not speak the language.
I
will
be
angry
with Murray. It was a bookselling, back-shop, Paternoster-row, paltry proceeding; and if the experiment had turned out as it deserved, I would have raised all Fleet Street, and borrowed the giant's staff from St. Dunstan's church
, to immolate the betrayer of trust. I have written to him as he never was written to before by an author, I'll be sworn, and I hope you will amplify my wrath, till it has an effect upon him. You tell me always you have much to write about. Write it, but let us drop metaphysics;—on that point we shall never agree. I am dull and drowsy, as usual. I do nothing, and even that nothing fatigues me.
Adieu.
Footnote 1:
See
Childe Harold
, Canto I. stanza xvi., and Byron's
note
.
Footnote 2:
See
Childe Harold
, Canto I. The "Good Night" is placed between stanzas xiii. and xiv.
"And now I'm in the world alone,
Upon the wide, wide sea;
But why should I for others groan,
When none will sigh for me?
Perchance my dog will whine in vain,
Till fed by stranger hands;
But long ere I come back again
He'd tear me where he stands."
Footnote 3:
St. Dunstan's in the West, before its rebuilding by Shaw (1831-33), was one of the oldest churches in London. The clock, which projected over the street, and had two wooden figures of wild men who struck the hours with their clubs, was set up in 1671. Unless there was a similar clock before this date, as is not improbable, Scott is wrong in
The Fortunes of Nigel
, where he makes Moniplies stand "astonished as old Adam and Eve ply their ding-dong." The figures, the removal of which, it is said, brought tears to the eyes of Charles Lamb, were bought by the Marquis of Hertford to adorn his villa in Regent's Park, still called St. Dunstan's. Murray's shop at 32, Fleet Street, stood opposite the church, the yard of which was surrounded with stationers' shops, where many famous books of the seventeenth century were published.
