Sunday, December 5th [1813]
Dallas's nephew (son to the American Attorney-general) is arrived in this country, and tells Dallas that my rhymes are very popular in the United States. These are the first tidings that have ever sounded like
Fame
to my ears—to be redde on the banks of the Ohio! The
greatest
pleasure I ever derived, of this kind was from an extract, in Cooke the actor's life, from his journal
, stating that in the reading-room at Albany, near Washington, he perused
English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers
. To be popular in a rising and far country has a kind of
posthumous feel
, very different from the ephemeral
éclat
and fête-ing, buzzing and party-ing compliments of the well-dressed multitude. I can safely say that, during my
reign
in the spring of 1812, I regretted nothing but its duration of six weeks instead of a fortnight, and was heartily glad to resign.
Last night I supped with Lewis; and, as usual, though I neither exceeded in solids nor fluids, have been half dead ever since. My stomach is entirely destroyed by long abstinence, and the rest will probably follow. Let it—I only wish the
pain
over. The "leap in the dark" is the least to be dreaded.
The Duke of —— called. I have told them forty times that, except to half-a-dozen old and specified acquaintances, I am invisible. His Grace is a good, noble, ducal person; but I am content to think so at a distance, and so—I was not at home.
Galt called.—Mem.—to ask some one to speak to Raymond in favour of his play. We are old fellow-travellers, and, with all his eccentricities, he has much strong sense, experience of the world, and is, as far as I have seen, a good-natured philosophical fellow. I showed him Sligo's letter on the reports of the Turkish girl's
aventure
at Athens soon after it happened. He and Lord Holland, Lewis, and Moore, and Rogers, and Lady Melbourne have seen it. Murray has a copy. I thought it had been
unknown
, and wish it were; but Sligo arrived only some days after, and the
rumours
are the subject of his letter. That I shall preserve,—
it is as well
. Lewis and Gait were both
horrified
; and L. wondered I did not introduce the situation into
The Giaour
. He
may
wonder;—he might wonder more at that production's being written at all. But to describe the
feelings
of
that situation
were impossible—it is
icy
even to recollect them.
The
Bride of Abydos
was published on Thursday the second of December; but how it is liked or disliked, I know not. Whether it succeeds or not is no fault of the public, against whom I can have no complaint. But I am much more indebted to the tale than I can ever be to the most partial reader; as it wrung my thoughts from reality to imagination—from selfish regrets to vivid recollections—and recalled me to a country replete with the
brightest
and
darkest
, but always most
lively
colours of my memory. Sharpe called, but was not let in, which I regret.
Saw [Rogers] yesterday. I have not kept my appointment at Middleton, which has not pleased him, perhaps; and my projected voyage with [Ward] will, perhaps, please him less. But I wish to keep well with both. They are instruments that don't do in concert; but, surely, their separate tones are very musical, and I won't give up either.
It is well if I don't jar between these great discords. At present I stand tolerably well with all, but I cannot adopt their
dislikes
;—so many
sets
. Holland's is the first;—every thing
distingué
is welcome there, and certainly the
ton
of his society is the best. Then there is Madame de Stael's—there I never go, though I might, had I courted it. It is
composed
of the ——s and the —— family, with a strange sprinkling,—orators, dandies, and all kinds of
Blue
, from the regular Grub Street uniform, down to the azure jacket of the
Littérateur
?
To see —— and —— sitting together, at dinner, always reminds me of the grave, where all distinctions of friend and foe are levelled; and they—the Reviewer and the Reviewée—the Rhinoceros and Elephant—the Mammoth and Megalonyx—all will lie quietly together. They now
sit
together, as silent, but not so quiet, as if they were already immured.
I did not go to the Berrys' the other night. The elder is a woman of much talent, and both are handsome, and must have been beautiful. To-night asked to Lord H.'s—shall I go? um!—perhaps.
Morning, two o'clock.
Went to Lord H.'s—party numerous—
mi
lady in perfect good humour, and consequently
perfect
. No one more agreeable, or perhaps so much so, when she will. Asked for Wednesday to dine and meet the Stael—asked particularly, I believe, out of mischief to see the first interview after the
note
, with which Corinne professes herself to be so much taken. I don't much like it; she always talks of
my
self or
her
self, and I am not (except in soliloquy, as now,) much enamoured of either subject—especially one's works. What the devil shall I say about
De l'Allemagne
? I like it prodigiously; but unless I can twist my admiration into some fantastical expression, she won't believe me; and I know, by experience, I shall be overwhelmed with fine things about rhyme, etc., etc. The lover, Mr.—— [Rocca], was there to-night, and C—— said "it was the only proof
he
had seen of her good taste." Monsieur L'Amant is remarkably handsome; but
I
don't think more so than her book.
C—— [Campbell] looks well,—seems pleased, and dressed to
sprucery
. A blue coat becomes him,—so does his new wig. He really looked as if Apollo had sent him a birthday suit, or a wedding-garment, and was witty and lively. He abused Corinne's book, which I regret; because, firstly, he understands German, and is consequently a fair judge; and, secondly, he is
first-rate
, and, consequently, the best of judges. I reverence and admire him; but I won't give up my opinion—why should I? I read
her
again and again, and there can be no affectation in this. I cannot be mistaken (except in taste) in a book I read and lay down, and take up again; and no book can be totally bad which finds
one
, even
one
reader, who can say as much sincerely.
Campbell talks of lecturing next spring; his last lectures were eminently successful. Moore thought of it, but gave it up,—I don't know why. —— had been prating
dignity
to him, and such stuff; as if a man disgraced himself by instructing and pleasing at the same time.
Introduced
to Marquis Buckingham—saw Lord Gower
—he is going to Holland; Sir J. and Lady Mackintosh and Horner, G. Lamb
, with I know not how many (Richard Wellesley, one—a clever man), grouped about the room. Little Henry Fox, a very fine boy, and very promising in mind and manner,—he went away to bed, before I had time to talk to him. I am sure I had rather hear him than all the
savans
.
Footnote 1:
In Dunlap's
Memoirs of George Frederick Cooke
(vol. ii. p. 313), the following passage is quoted from the actor's journal:
"Read English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers, by Lord Byron. It is well written. His Lordship is rather severe, perhaps justly so, on Walter Scott, and most assuredly justly severe upon Monk Lewis."
Footnote 2:
In Byron's
Detached Thoughts
(1821) occurs this passage:
"In general I do not draw well with literary men. Not that I dislike them, but I never know what to say to them after I have praised their last publication. There are several exceptions, to be sure; but then they have always been men of the world, such as Scott and Moore, etc., or visionaries out of it, such as Shelley, etc. But your literary every-day man and I never went well in company, especially your foreigner, whom I never could abide,—except Giordani, and—and—and (I really can't name any other); I do not remember a man amongst them whom I ever wished to see twice, except, perhaps, Mezzophanti, who is a Monster of Languages, the Briareus of parts of speech, a walking Polyglott, and more—who ought to have existed at the time of the Tower of Babel as universal Interpreter. He is, indeed, a Marvel,—unassuming also. I tried him in all the tongues of which I have a single oath (or adjuration to the Gods against Postboys, Savages, Tartars, boatmen, sailors, pilots, Gondoliers, Muleteers, Cameldrivers, Vetturini, Postmasters, post-horses, post-houses, post-everything) and Egad! he astounded me even to my English."
On this passage Sir Walter Scott makes the following note:
"I suspect Lord Byron of some self-deceit as to this matter. It appears that he liked extremely the only first-rate men of letters into whose society he happened to be thrown in England. They happened to be men of the world, it is true; but how few men of very great eminence in literature, how few intellectually Lord B.'s peers, have not been men of the world? Does any one doubt that the topics he had most pleasure in discussing with Scott or Moore were literary ones, or had at least some relation to literature?
"As for the foreign literati, pray what literati anything like his own rank did he encounter abroad? I have no doubt he would have been as much at home with an Alfieri, a Schiller, or a Goethe, or a Voltaire, as he was with Scott or Moore, and yet two of these were very little of men of the world in the sense in which he uses that phrase.
"As to 'every-day men of letters,' pray who does like their company? Would a clever man like a prosing 'captain, or colonel, or knight-in-arms' the better for happening to be himself the Duke of Wellington?"
Footnote 3:
George Granville Leveson Gower (1786-1861) succeeded his father in 1833 as second Duke of Sutherland.
Footnote 4:
George Lamb (1784-1834), the fourth son of the first Lord Melbourne, married, in 1809, Caroline Rosalie St. Jules. As one of the early contributors to the
Edinburgh Review
, he was attacked by Byron in
English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers
, lines 57 and 516 (see
Poems
, ed. 1898, vol. i. p. 301,
note
I). A clever amateur actor, his comic opera
Whistle for It
was produced at Covent Garden, April 10, 1807, and he was afterwards on the Drury Lane Committee of Management. His translation of the
Poems of Catullus
was published in 1821. In 1819, as the representative of the official Whigs, he was elected for Westminster against Hobhouse; but was defeated at the next election (1820).
