197—to R.C. Dallas
Newstead Abbey, Oct. 11, 1811.
I have returned from Lancashire, and ascertained that my property there may be made very valuable, but various circumstances very much circumscribe my exertions at present. I shall be in town on business in the beginning of November, and perhaps at Cambridge before the end of this month; but of my movements you shall be regularly apprised. Your objections I have in part done away by alterations, which I hope will suffice; and I have sent two or three additional stanzas for both
"Fyttes."
I
have
been again shocked with a
death
, and have lost one very dear to me in happier times
; but "I have almost forgot the taste of grief," and "supped full of horrors"
till I have become callous, nor have I a tear left for an event which, five years ago, would have bowed down my head to the earth. It seems as though I were to experience in my youth the greatest misery of age. My friends fall around me, and I shall be left a lonely tree before I am withered. Other men can always take refuge in their families; I have no resource but my own reflections, and they present no prospect here or hereafter, except the selfish satisfaction of surviving my betters. I am indeed very wretched, and you will excuse my saying so, as you know I am not apt to cant of sensibility.
Instead of tiring yourself with
my
concerns, I should be glad to hear
your
plans of retirement. I suppose you would not like to be wholly shut out of society? Now I know a large village, or small town, about twelve miles off, where your family would have the advantage of very genteel society, without the hazard of being annoyed by mercantile affluence; where
you
would meet with men of information and independence; and where I have friends to whom I should be proud to introduce you. There are, besides, a coffee-room, assemblies, etc., etc., which bring people together. My mother had a house there some years, and I am well acquainted with the economy of Southwell, the name of this little commonwealth. Lastly, you will not be very remote from me; and though I am the very worst companion for young people in the world, this objection would not apply to
you
, whom I could see frequently. Your expenses, too, would be such as best suit your inclinations, more or less, as you thought proper; but very little would be requisite to enable you to enter into all the gaieties of a country life. You could be as quiet or bustling as you liked, and certainly as well situated as on the lakes of Cumberland, unless you have a particular wish to be
picturesque
.
Pray, is your Ionian friend in town? You have promised me an introduction. You mention having consulted some friend on the MSS. Is not this contrary to our usual way?
Instruct
Mr. Murray not to allow his shopman to call the work
Child of Harrow's Pilgrimage!!!!! 3
as he has done to some of my astonished friends, who wrote to inquire after my
sanity
on the occasion, as well they might. I have heard nothing of Murray, whom I scolded heartily. Must I write more notes? Are there not enough? Cawthorn must be kept back with the
Hints
. I hope he is getting on with Hobhouse's quarto. Good evening.
Yours ever, etc.
Byron
.
Footnote 1:
The reference is to Edleston (see
Letters
, vol. i. p. 130, note 3 [Footnote 2 of Letter 74]), of whose death Miss Edleston had recently sent Byron an account.
Footnote 2:
"I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
...
I have supp'd full with horrors."
Macbeth
, act v. sc. 5.
Footnote 3:
Francis Hodgson, writing to Byron, October 8, 1811, says,
"Murray's shopman, taught, I presume, by himself, calls Psyche 'Pishy,' The Four Slaves of Cythera 'The Four do. of Cythera,' and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage 'Child of Harrow's Pilgrimage.' This misnomering Vendor of Books must have been misbegotten in some portentous union of the Malaprops and the Slipslops."
