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find out the difference. But let us return to the modest to rate your praise beyond ils real worth. more immediate question.
-Don't be angry,-1 know you won't,—at this apI agree with you, that it is impossible Lord By-praisement of your powers of eulogy; for on the ron should be the author, not only because, as a other hand, my dear friend, depend upon it your British peer and a British poet, it would be imprac- abuse is worth, not its own weight,-that 's a ticable for him to have recourse to such facetious feather,-but your weight in gold. So don't spare fiction, but for some other reasons which you have it: if he has bargained for that, give it handsomely, omitted to state. In the first place, his Lordship and depend upon your doing him a friendly office. has no grandmother. Now, the author-and we But I only speak in case of possibility; for, as I may believe him in this-doth expressly state the said before, I cannot believe, in the first instance, British in his “Grandmother's Review;" and if, as that you would receive a bribe to praise any person I think I have distinctly proved, this was not a whatever; and still less can I believe, that your mere figurative allusion to your supposed intel- praise could ever produce such an offer. You are lectual age and sex, my dear friend, it follows, a good creature, my dear Roberts, and a clever
whether you be she or no, that there is such an fellow, else I could almost suspect that you had elderly lady still extant. And I can the more fallen into the very trap set for you in verse by readily credit this, having a sexagenary aunt of my this anonymous wag, who will certainly be but too
own, who perused you constantly, till unfortu- happy to see you saving him the trouble of making nately falling asleep over the leading article of you ridiculous. The fact is, that the solemnity of your last number, her spectacles fell off and were your eleventh article does make you look a little broken against the fender, after a faithful service more absurd than you ever yet looked, in all pro
of fifteen years, and she has never been able to fit bability, and at the same time, does no good; for her eyes since; so that I have been forced to read if any body believed before in the octave stanzas, you aloud to her; and this is in fact the way in they will believe still, and you will find it not less which I became acquainted with the subject of my difficult to prove your negative, than the learned present letter, and thus determined to become your Partridge found it to demonstrate his not being public correspondent.
dead, to the satisfaction of the readers of almaIn the next place, Lord B.'s destiny seems in some nacks. sort like that of Hercules of old, who became the What the motives of this writer may have been author of all unappropriated prodigies. Lord B. for (as you magnificently translate his quizzing has been supposed the author of the Vampire, of you)“stating, with the parlicularity which belongs a Pilgrimage to Jerusalem, To the Dead Sea, of to fact, the forgery of a groundless fiction,” (do, Death upon the Pale horse, of odes to La Valette, pray, my dear R., talk a little less “in King Cam10 Saint Helena, to the Land of the Gaul, and 10 byses' vein,”) I cannot pretend to say; perhaps to a sucking-child. Now, he turned out to have laugh at you, but that this is no reason for your benewritten none of these things. Besides, you say, volently making all the world laugh also. I aphe knows in what a spirit of, etc. you criti- prove of your being angry; I tell you
am angry cise :- Are you sure he knows all this ? that he 100; but you should not have shown it so outrahas read you, like my poor dear aunt? They tell leously. Your solemn “if somebody personating me he is a queer sort of a man; and I would not be the Editor of the, etc. etc. has received from Lord 100 sure, if I were you, either of what he has read B. or from any other person,” reminds me of Charor of what he has written. I thought his style had ley Incledon's usual exordium when people came been the serious and terrible. As to his sending into the tavern to hear him sing without paying you money, this is the first time that ever I heard their share of the reckoning :-"If a maun, of his paying his reviewers in that coin ; I thought maun, or any other maun,” etc. etc.; you have it was rather in their oron, to judge from some of both the same redundant eloquence. But why his earlier productions. Besides, though he may should you think any body would personate you ? not be profuse in his expenditure, I should con- Nobody would dream of such a prank who ever jecture that his reviewer's bill is not so long as his read your compositions, and perhaps not many tailor's.
who have heard your conversation. But I have Shall I give you what I think a prudent opinion? been inoculated with a little of your prolixity. I don't mean to insinuate, God forbid ! but if, by The fact is, my dear Roberts, that somebody has any accident, there should have been such a cor- tried to make a fool of you, and what he did not respondence between you and the unknown au-succeed in doing, you have done for him and for thor, whoever he may be, send him back his money: yourself. I dare say he will be very glad to have it again; it With regard to the poem itself, or the aulhor, can't be much, considering the value of the article whom I cannot find out, (can you ?) I have nothing and circulation of the journal; and you are tvo to say; my business is with you. I am sure that
you will, upon second thoughts, be really obliged tom of contrition, remorse, or hesitation, with a calm careless to me for the intention of this letter, however far scrociousness of contented and satisfied depravily—this was an
insult which no man of genius had ever before dared to put upon short my expressions may have fallen of the sin- bis Creator or his species. Impiously railing against his Godcere goodwill, admiration, and thorough esteem, madly and meanly disloyal to his sovereign and his country,with which I am ever, my dear Roberts,
and brutally outraging all the best feelings of female honour,
allection, and confidence,-how small a part of chivalry is that Most truly yours,
which remains to the descendant of the Byrons-a gloomy vizor, WORTLEY CLUTTERBUCK. and a deadly weapon! Sept. 4th, 1819,
“ Those who are acquainted (as who is not?) with the main Little Piddlington.
incidents in the privale life of Lord Byron-and who have not seen
his production, will scarcely believe that malignity should have P.S.-My letter is too long to revise, and the carried him so far, as to make him commence a filthy and impost is going. I forget whether or not I asked you ners of his wife-from whom, even by his own confession, he
pious poem, with an elaborate satire on the character and nanThe meaning of your last words “the forgery of a has been separated only in consequence of his own cruel and groundless fiction.” Now, as all forgery is fiction, heartless misconduct. It is in vain for Lord Byron lo allempt and all fiction a kind of forgery, is not this tauto- in any way to justify his own behaviour in that affair ; and, nor logical? The sentence would have ended more proach, we do not see any good reason why he should not be
that he has so openly and audaciously invited inquiry and restrongly with “forgery;" only, it hath an awful plainly cold so by the general voice of his countrymen. It would Bank of England sound, and would have ended not be an easy matter to persuade any man, who has any Jike an indictment, besides sparing you several aowledge of the nature of Woman, that a female such as Lord
Byron has himself described his wise to be, would rashly, or Fords, and conferring some meaning upon the lastily, or lightly, separate herself from the love with which sbe remainder. But this is mere verbal criticism. had once been inspired for such a man as be is, or was. Had Good-bye-once more, yours truly, W.C. he not heaped insult upon insult, and scorn upon score-had be P. S. 20.- Is it true that the Saints make up
not forced the iron of his contempt into her very soul-there is
no woman of delicacy and virtue, as he admitted Lady Byron the loss of the Review - It is very handsome in to be, who would not bave hoped all things and susfered all things them to be at so great an expense. Troice more, from one, her love of whom must bave been interwoven with so yours,
W.C. many exalting elements of delicious pride, and more delicious
humility. To offend the love of such a woman was wrong-but il might be forgiven; to desert her was unmanly-but he might
have returned, and whiped for ever from her eyes the tears of The annexed article, which also elicited his her desertion ;- but to injure, and to desert, and then to luro Lordship’s remarks, is from the celebrated organ back and wound her widowed privacy with uphallowed strains of northern toryism
of cold blooded mockery-was brutally, fiendishly, inespiably
mean. For impurities there might be some possibility of parBLACKWOOD.
don, were they supposed to spring only from the reckless buoyaney
of young blood and fiery passions ;-for impiety there might al “In the composition of this work there is unquestionably a least be pity, were it visible that the misery of the impious soal more thorough and intense infusion of genius and vice-power equalled its darkness ;-but for offences such as this, which canand profligacy-than in any poem which had ever before been not proceed either from the madness of sudden impulse, or the written in the English or, indeed, in any other modern language. bewildered agonies of doubt-but which speak the wilsul and Had the wickedness been less inextricably mingled with tbe determined spite of an unrepenting, unsostened, smiling, sarbeauty, and the grace, and the strength of a most inimitable and castic, joyous sioner-chere can be peither pity nor pardon. incomprehensible muse, our lask would have been easy. Don Our knowledge that it is committed by one of the most powerful Juan is by far the most admirable specimen of the mixture of intellects our island ever has produced, lends intensity a thouease, strength, gaiety, and seriousness, extant in the whole body sand-fold to the bitterness of our indignation. Every bigb thougbi
English poetry: the author has devoted bis powers to the that was ever kindled in our breasts by the muse of Byronworst of purposes and passions; and it increases his guilt, and every pure and lofty feeling that ever responded from within us our sorrow, that he has devoted them entire.
to the sweep of his majestic inspirations-every remembered "The moral strain of the whole poem is pitched in the lowest moment of admiration and enthusiasm, is up in arms against key. Love-honour-patriotism-religion, are mentioned only him. We look back with a mixture of wrath and scorn to the to be scoffed al, as if their sole resting-place were, or ought to delight with which we suffered ourselves to be filled by one who be, in the bosoms of fools. It appears, in short, as if this miser- all the while he was furnishing us with delight, must, we cannot able man, having exhausted every species of sensual gratificaliou doubt it, have been mocking us with a cruel mockery-less cruel -having drained the cup of sin even to its bitterest dregs were only, because less peculiar than that with which he has noz resolved to show us that he is no longer a human being, even in turned him, from the lurking-place of bis selfish and polluted esile. bis frailties; but a cool unconcerned fiend, laughing with a delo pour the pitiful chalice of his contumely on the surrendered Testable glee over the whole of the better and worse elements of devotion of a virgin-bosom, and the holy hopes of the mother of which human life is composed-creating well-nigh with equal his child. It is indeed a sad and a humiliating thing to knor, derision the most pure of virtues, and the most odious of vices that in the same year there proceeded from the same pen (wo -dead alike to the beauty of the one, and the deformity of the productions, in all things so different, as the Fourth Canlo ol other-a mere heartless despiser of that frail but noble human- Childe Harold and this loathsome Don Juan. ity, whose lype was never exhibited in a shape of more de- “We bave mentioned one, and, all will admit, the worst ioplorable degradation than in his own contemptuously distinct stance of the private malignity which has been embodied in so delineation of himself. To consess to his Maker, and weep over many passages of Don Juan; and we are quite sure, the loftyin secret agonies, the wildest and most fantastic transgressions minded and virtuous men whom Lord Byron bas de based himself of heart and mind, is the part of a conscicus sinner, in whom by insulting, will close the volume which conlains their own sin has not become the sole principle of life and action. But, to injuries, with no feelings save those of pity for Ilim that has lay bare to the eye of man-and of woman-all the hidden con inflicted them, and for ller who partakes so largely in tbe sams vulsions of a wicked spirit-and to do all this without one sympo injuries.”—(Aug. 1819.)
ONE OF THE NUMBER.
to be continued, feel, or should feel themselves so UPON AN ARTICLE IN BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE,
aggrieved as to require a more explicit answer, No. XXIX. AUGUST, 1819.
privately and personally, they shall have it. "Why, how now, Hecate, you look angrily."- Macbeth. I have never shrunk from the responsibility of
what I have written, and have more than once inTO I, D'ISRAELI, ESQ.
curred obloquy by neglecting to disavow what was THE AMIABLE AND INGENIOUS AUTHOR OF attributed to my pen without foundation. THE CALAMITIES” AND “QUARRELS OF AUTHORS;" The greater part, however, of the “Remarks on THIS ADDITIONAL QUARREL AND CALAMITY
Don Juan" contain but little on the work itself, IS INSCRIBED BY
which receives an extraordinary portion of praise as a composition. With the exception of some
quotations, and a few incidental remarks, the rest RAVENNA, March 15, 1820. of the article is neither more nor less than a per“The life of a writer” has been said, by Pope, 1 sonal attack upon the imputed author. It is not believe, to be “a warfareupon earth.” As far as the first in the same publication : for I recollect my own experience has gone, I have nothing to to have read, some time ago, similar remarks upon say against the proposition; and, like the rest, Beppo (said to have been written by a celebrateil having once plunged into this state of hostility, northern preacher); in which the conclusion drawn must, however reluctantly, carry it on. An ar-was, that“Childe Harold, Byron, and the Countin ticle has appeared in a periodical work, entitled Beppo, were one and the same person;" thereby "Remarks on Don Juan,” which has been so full making me turn out to be, as Mrs. Malapropii) of this spirit, on the part of the writer, as to require says, “like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once.” some observations on mine.
That article was signed “Presbyter Anglicanus," In the first place, I am not aware by what right which, I presume, being interpreted, means Scotch the writer assumes this work, which is anony- Presbyterian.(2) 1 must here observe,-and it is mous, to be my production. He will answer, that at once ludicrous and vexatious to be compelled there is internal evidence; that is to say, that there so frequently to repeat the same thing,—that my are passages which appear to be written in my name, case, as an author, is peculiarly hard, in being or in my manner. But might not this have been everlastingly taken, or mistaken, for my own prodone on purpose by another? He will say, why tagonist. It is unjust and particular. I never heard
not then deny it? To this I could answer, that of that my friend Moore was set down for a fire-worall the things attributed to me within the last five shipper on account of his Guebre; that Scott was years,— Pilgrimages to Jerusalem, Deaths upon identified with Roderick Dhu, or with Balfour of Pale Horses, Odes to the Land of the Gaul, Adieus Burley; or that, notwithstanding all the magicians to England, Songs to Madame La Valette, Odes in Thalaba, any body has ever taken Mr. Southey lo St. Helena, Vampires, and what not,-of which, for a conjuror; whereas I have had some difficulty God knows, I never composed nor read a syllable in extricating me even from Manfred, who, as beyond their titles in advertisements, I never Mr. Southey slily observes in one of his articles in thought it worth while to disavow any except one the Quarterly, “met the devil on the Jungfrau, which came linked with an account of my Resi- and bullied him:" (3) and I answer Mr. Southey, dence in the Isle of Mitylene, where, I never re- who has apparently, in his poetical life, not been sided, and appeared to be carrying the amusement 80 successful against the great enemy, that, in this, of those persons, who think my name can be of Manfred exactly followed the sacred precept,any use to them, a little too far.
_“Resist the devil, and he will flee from you,”I should hardly, therefore, if I did not take the I shall have more to say on the subject of this pertrouble to disavow these things published in my son—not the devil, but his most humble servant, name, and yet not mine, go out of my way to deny Mr. Southey-before I conclude; but, for the prean anonymous work; which might appear an act sent, I must return to the article in the Edinburgh of supererogation. With regard to Don Juan, I Magazine. neither deny nor admit it to be mine-every body In the course of this article, amidst some extra-may form their own opinion; but, if there be any ordinary observations, there occur the following who now, or in the progress of that poem, if it is words :—“It appears, in short, as if this miserable
(1) In Sheridan's comedy of The Rivals.-E.
p. 366.), speaking incidentally of the Jungfrau, I said, 'It was the (2) See Blackwood, vol. iii. p. 329. Lord B., as it appears scene where Lord Byron's Manfred met the devil, and bullied from one of his letters, ascribed this paper to the Rev. Dr. bim-though the devil must have won his cause before any triChalmers-E.
bunal in this world, or the next, if he had not pleaded more (3) “As the passage was curtailed in the press, I take this reebly for himself than his advocate, in a cause of canonisation, opportunity of restoring it. In the Quarterly Review (vol. xxi. ever pleaded for him.'" Southey -E.
man having exhausted every species of sensual and shame him, by applying to the Consul-General gratification,-having drained the cup of sin even of our nation, resident in the place, who will be to its bitterest dregs, were resolved to show us that in the case either to confirm or deny what I have he is no longer a human being even in his frailties, asserted.(1) but a cool unconcerned fiend, laughing with a de- I neither make, nor have ever made, pretensions lestable glee over the whole of the better and worse to sanctity of demeanour, nor regularity of conduct; elements of which human life is composed.” In but my means have been expended principally on another place there appears, “the lurking-place my own gratification neither now nor heretofore,
of his selfish and polluted exile.”—“By my troth, neither in England nor out of it; and it wants but these be bitter words!"—With regard to the first a word from me, if I thought that word decent or sentence, I shall content myself with observing, necessary, to call forth the most willing witnesses, that it appears to have been composed for Sarda- and at once witnesses and proofs, in England itself, napalus, Tiberius, the Regent Duke of Orleans, or to show that there are those who have derived not Louis XV.; and that I have copied it with as much the mere temporary relief of a wretched boon, but indifference as I would a passage from Suetonius, the means which led them to immediate happiness or from any of the private memoirs of the regency, and ultimate independence, by my want of that conceiving it to be amply refuted by the terms in very “selfishness," as grossly as falsely now imwhich it is expressed, and to be utterly inappli- puled to my conduct. cable lo any private individual. On the words, Had I been a selfish man-had I been a grasping “lurking-place,"and "selfish and polluted exile," man-had I been in the worldly sense of the word, I have something more to say. How far the capital even a prudent man,-1 should not be where ! city of a government, which survived the vicissi- now am; I should not have taken the step which tudes of thirteen hundred years, and might still was the first that led to the events which have sunk have existed but for the treachery of Bonaparte, and swoln a gulf between me and mine: but in this and the iniquily of his imitators,-a city which was respect the truth will one day be made known: in the emporium of Europe when London and Edin-the mean time, as Durandearte says, in the Cave burgh were dens of barbarians,-may be termed of Montesinos, “Patience, and shuffle the cards." “a lurking-place,” I leave lo those who have seen I bitterly feel the ostentation of this statement, or heard of Venice to decide. How far my exile the first of the kind I have ever made: I feel the may have been “polluted,” it is not for me to say, degradation of being compelled to make it; but I because the word is a wide one, and, with some of also feel its truth, and I trust to feel it on my deathits branches, may chance to overshadow the actions bed, should it be my lot to die there. I am not of most men: but that it has been “selfish” I deny. I less sensible of the egotism of all this; but, alas! JF, 1o the extent of my means and my power, and who have made me thus egotistical in my own de my information of their calamities, to have assisted fence, if not they, who, by perversely persisting in many miserable beings, reduced by the decay of referring fiction to truth, and tracing poetry to life, the place of their birth, and their consequent loss and regarding characters of imagination as creaof substance—if to have never rejected an appliatures of existence, have made me personally rescation which appeared founded on truth-if 10 ponsible for almost every poetical delineation which have expended in this manner sums far out of pro- fancy, and a particular bias of thought, may bare portion to my fortune, there and elsewbere, be tended to produce ? selfish, then have I been selfish. To have done The writer continues :--" Those who are acsuch things I do not deem much; but it is hard in- quainted, as who is not? with the main incidents deed to be compelled to recapitulate them in my of the private life of Lord B.," etc. Assuredly, own defence, by such accusations as that before whoever may be acquainted with these “main inme, like a panel before a jury calling iestimonies cidents,” the writer of the “Remarks on Don to his character, or a soldier recording his services Juan” is not, or he would use a very different to obtain his discharge. If the person who has | language.
That which I believe he alludes to as a made the charge of “selfishness” wishes to informi "main incident,” happened to be a very subordihimself further on the subject, he may acquire, not nate one, and the natural and almost inevitable what he would wish to find, but what will silence consequence of events and circumstances long prior
(1) “Lord Byron was ever ready to assist the distressed, and “The house of a shoemaker near his Lordship's residence in he was most unosientatious in his charities; for, besides consi- Sl. Samuel was burnt to the ground, with all it contained, by derable sums which he gave away to applicants at bis own house, which the proprietor was reduced lo indigence. Byron not only he contributed largely, by weekly and monthly allowances, to caused a new and superior house to be erecled, but also prepersons whom he bad never seen and who, as the money reached sented the susserer with a sum of money equal in value to the them by other hands, did not even know who was their bede-whole of his stock-in-trade and furniture."-Galt. factor." Hoppner.
lo the period at which it occurred. It is the last what has been already said and done? Has not drop which makes the cup run over, and mine was "the general voice of his countrymen” long ago already full. But,-lo return to this man's charge: pronounced upon the subject-sentence without he accuses Lord B. of “an elaborate satire on the trial, and condemnation without a charge? Have character and manners of his wife.” From what I not been exiled by ostracism, except that the parts of Don Juan the writer has inferred this he shells which prescribed me were anonymous ? Is himself best knows. As far as I recollect of the the writer ignorant of the public opinion and the female characters in that production, there is but public conduct upon that occasion ? If he is,
I am one who is depicted in ridiculous colours, or not:the public will forget both, long before I shall that could be interpreted as a satire upon any body. cease to remember either. But here my poetical sins are again visited upon me, The man who is exiled by a faction has the consupposing that the poem be mine. If I depict a solation of thinking that he is a martyr; he is upheld corsair, a misanthrope, a libertine, a chief of insur- by hope and the dignity of his cause, real or imagents, or an infidel, he is set down to the author; ginary: he who withdraws from the pressure of and if, in a poem by no means ascertained to be debt may indulge in the thought that time and my production, there appears a disagrerable, ca- prudence will retrieve his circumstances: be who suistical, and by no means respectable female is condemned by the law has a term to his banishpedant, it is set down for my wife. Is there any ment, or a dream of its abbreviation; or, it may be, resemblance ? If there be, it is in those who make the knowledge or the belief of some injustice of the it: I can see none. In my writings I have rarely law, or of its administration in his own particular: described any character under a fictitious name: but he who is outlawed by general opinion, without those of whom I have spoken have had their own- the intervention of hostile politics, illegal judgin many cases a stronger salire in itself than any ment, or embarrassed circumstances, whether he which could be appended to it. But of real cir- be innocent or guilty, must undergo all the bitcumstances I have availed myself plentifully, both terness of exile, without hope, without pride, within the serious and the ludicrous—they are to poetry out alleviation. This case was mine. Upon what what landscapes are to the painter; but my figures grounds the public founded their opinion, I am not are not portraits. It may even have happened, aware; but it was general, and it was decisive. Of that I have seized on some events that have oc- me or of mine they knew little, except that I had curred under my own observation, or in my own written what is called poetry, was a nobleman, had family, as I would paint a view from my grounds, married, became a father, and was involved in difdid it harmonise with my picture; but I never ferences with my wife and her relatives, no one would introduce the likenesses of its living mem-knew why, because the persons complaining refused bers, unless their features could be made as favour- to state their grievances. The fashionable world able to themselves as to the effect; which, in the was divided into parties, mine consisting of a very above instance, would be extremely difficult. small minority: the reasonable world was naturally
My learned brother proceeds to observe, that on the stronger side, which happened to be the “it is in vain for Lord B. to attempt in any way lady's, as was most proper and polite. The press to justify his own behaviour in that affair; and was active and scurrilous; and such was the rage now that he has so openly and audaciously in- of the day, that the unfortunate publication of two rited inquiry and reproach, we do not see any good copies of verses, rather complimentary than otherreason why he should not be plainly told so by the wise to the subjects of both, was tortured into a voice of his countrymen.” How far the “ open- species of crime, or constructive petty treason. I ness” of an anonynious poem, and the “audacity” was accused of every monstrous vice by public of an imaginary character, which the writer sup- rumour and private rancour: my name, which had poses to be meant for Lady B., may be deemed to been a knightly or a noble one since my fathers inerit this formidable denunciation from their helped to conquer the kingdom for William the “most sweet voices,” I neither know nor care; but Norman, was tainted. I felt that, if what was when he tells me that I cannot“in any way justify whispered, and muttered, and murmured, was true, my own behaviour in that affair," I acquiesce, be- I was unfit for England; if false, England was unfit cause no man can“justify” himself until he knows for me. I withdrew; but this was not enough. In of what he is accused ; and I have never had—and, other countries, in Switzerland, in the shadow of God knows, my whole desire has ever been to ob- the Alps, and by the blue depth of the lakes, I was tain it-any specific charge, in a tangible shape, pursued and breathed upon by the same blight. I submitted to me by the adversary, nor by others, crossed the mountains, but it was the same; so I unless the atrocities of public rumour and the mys- went a little farther, and settled myself by the waves terivus silence of the lady's legal advisers may be of the Adriatic, like the stag at bay, who belakes deemed such. But is not the writer content with him to the waters.