198—To Francis Hodgson
Newstead Abbey, Oct. 13, 1811.
You will begin to deem me a most liberal correspondent; but as my letters are free, you will overlook their frequency. I have sent you answers in prose and verse to all your late communications; and though I am invading your ease again, I don't know why, or what to put down that you are not acquainted with already. I am growing
nervous
(how you will laugh!)—but it is true,—really, wretchedly, ridiculously, fine-ladically
nervous
. Your climate kills me; I can neither read, write, nor amuse myself, or any one else. My days are listless, and my nights restless; I have very seldom any society, and when I have, I run out of it. At "this present writing," there are in the next room three
ladies
, and I have stolen away to write this grumbling letter.—I don't know that I sha'n't end with insanity, for I find a want of method in arranging my thoughts that perplexes me strangely; but this looks more like silliness than madness, as Scrope Davies would facetiously remark in his consoling manner. I must try the hartshorn of your company; and a session of Parliament would suit me well,—any thing to cure me of conjugating the accursed verb "
ennuyer
."
When shall you be at Cambridge?
You
have hinted, I think, that your friend Bland
is returned from Holland. I have always had a great respect for his talents, and for all that I have heard of his character; but of me, I believe he knows nothing, except that he heard my sixth form repetitions ten months together at the average of two lines a morning, and those never perfect. I remembered him and his
Slaves
as I passed between Capes Matapan, St. Angelo, and his Isle of Ceriga, and I always bewailed the absence of the
Anthology
. I
suppose
he will now translate Vondel, the Dutch Shakspeare, and
Gysbert van Amsteli
will easily be accommodated to our stage in its present state; and I presume he saw the Dutch poem, where the love of Pyramus and Thisbe is compared to the passion of Christ; also the love of Lucifer for Eve, and other varieties of Low Country literature.
No doubt you will think me crazed to talk of such things, but they are all in black and white and good repute on the banks of every canal from Amsterdam to Alkmaar.
Yours ever,
B.
My poesy is in the hands of its various publishers; but the
Hints from Horace
(to
which
I have subjoined some savage lines on Methodism
, and ferocious notes on the vanity of the triple Editory of the
Edin. Annual Register
), my
Hints
, I say, stand still, and why?—I have not a friend in the world (but you and Drury) who can construe Horace's Latin or my English well enough to adjust them for the press, or to correct the proofs in a grammatical way. So that, unless you have bowels when you return to town (I am too far off to do it for myself), this ineffable work will be lost to the world for—I don't know how many
weeks
.
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
must wait till
Murray's
is finished. He is making a tour in Middlesex, and is to return soon, when high matter may be expected. He wants to have it in quarto, which is a cursed unsaleable size; but it is pestilent long, and one must obey one's bookseller. I trust Murray will pass the Paddington Canal without being seduced by Payne and Mackinlay's example, —I say Payne and Mackinlay, supposing that the partnership held good. Drury, the villain, has not written to me; "I
am
never (as Mrs. Lumpkin
says to Tony) to be gratified with the monster's dear wild notes."
So you are going (going indeed!) into orders. You must make your peace with the Eclectic Reviewers—they accuse you of impiety, I fear, with injustice.
Demetrius
, the "Sieger of Cities," is here, with "Gilpin Horner."
The
painter
is not necessary, as the portraits he already painted are (by anticipation) very like the new animals.—Write, and send me your "Love Song"—but I want
paulo majora
from you. Make a dash before you are a deacon, and try a
dry
publisher.
Yours always,
B.
Footnote 1:
For Robert Bland, see
Letters
, vol. i. p. 271,
note
1 [Footnote 2 of Letter 137]. In his
Four Slaves of Cythera
(1809), Canto I., occur the following lines:
"Now full in sight the Paphian gardens smile,
And thence by many a green and summer isle,
Whose ancient walls and temples seem to sleep,
Enshadowed on the mirror of the deep,
They coast along Cythera's happy ground,
Gem of the sea, for love's delight renown'd."
Footnote 2:
Bland had been acting as English Chaplain in Holland. Joost Van Vondel (1587-1679), born at Cologne of Anabaptist parents, became a Roman Catholic in 1641. Most of his thirty-two tragedies are on classical or religious subjects, and in the latter may be traced his gradual change of faith.
Gysbrecht van Amstel
(1637) is a play, the action of which takes place on Christmas Day in the thirteenth century. The scene is laid at Amsterdam, which is captured by a ruse like that of the Greeks at Troy. The play appealed strongly to the patriotic instincts of the Dutch by its prophecy of the future greatness of Amsterdam. Vondel's
Lucifer
(1654) has been often compared to
Paradise Lost
. It also bears some affinities to
Cain
. In it the Archangel Lucifer rebels against God on learning the Divine intention to take on Himself the nature, not of Angels, but of Man.
Footnote 3:
Hints from Horace
, lines 371-382.
Footnote 4:
The Edinburgh Annual Register
(1808-26) was published by John Ballantyne and Co. The prospectus promised a general history of Europe; a collection of State papers; a chronicle of events; original essays on morality, literature, and science; and articles on biography, the useful arts, and meteorology. The Editor was Scott, and Southey was responsible for the historical department. The first two parts, giving the history of 1808, did not appear till July, 1810, and then with an editorial apology for the omission of the articles on biography, the useful arts, and meteorology; also with an explanation that the idea of original essays on morality, literature, and science had been abandoned. The venture, thus unfortunately launched, never succeeded. For Byron's attack, see
Hints from Horace
, line 657, and his
note
.
Footnote 5:
This is an obvious slip for "Mrs. Hardcastle," who, in
She Stoops to Conquer
(act ii.), says,
"I'm never to be delighted with your agreeable wild notes, unfeeling monster!"
Footnote 6:
Probably Demetrius, his Greek servant, whom he nicknames after Demetrius Poliorcetes, and Claridge, who had bored Byron during a long stay of three weeks.
Footnote 7:
Barber, whom he had brought down to Newstead to paint his wolf and his bear.
