by Lord Byron
My compositions speak for themselves, and must stand or fall by their own worth or demerit: thus far I feel highly gratified by your favourable opinion. But my pretensions to virtue are unluckily so few, that though I should be happy to merit, I cannot accept, your applause in that respect. One passage in your letter struck me forcibly: you mention the two Lords Lyttleton in the manner they respectively deserve, and will be surprised to hear the person who is now addressing you has been frequently compared to the latter. I know I am injuring myself in your esteem by this avowal, but the circumstance was so remarkable from your observation, that I cannot help relating the fact. The events of my short life have been of so singular a nature, that, though the pride commonly called honour has, and I trust ever will, prevent me from disgracing my name by a mean or cowardly action, I have been already held up as the votary of licentiousness, and the disciple of infidelity. How far justice may have dictated this accusation, I cannot pretend to say; but, like the gentleman to whom my religious friends, in the warmth of their charity, have already devoted me, I am made worse than I really am. However, to quit myself (the worst theme I could pitch upon), and return to my poems, I cannot sufficiently express my thanks, and I hope I shall some day have an opportunity of rendering them in person. A second edition is now in the press, with some additions and considerable omissions; you will allow me to present you with a copy. The ‘Critical’, ‘Monthly’, and ‘Anti-Jacobin Reviews’ have been very indulgent; but the ‘Eclectic’ has pronounced a furious Philippic, not against the book but the author, where you will find all I have mentioned asserted by a reverend divine who wrote the critique.
Your name and connection with our family have been long known to me, and I hope your person will be not less so: you will find me an excellent compound of a “Brainless” and a “Stanhope.” I am afraid you will hardly be able to read this, for my hand is almost as bad as my character; but you will find me, as legibly as possible,
Your obliged and obedient servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Robert Charles Dallas (1754-1842), born in Jamaica and educated in Scotland, read law at the Inner Temple. About 1775 he returned to Jamaica to look after his property and take up a lucrative appointment. Three years later he returned to England, married, and took his wife back with him to the West Indies. His wife’s health compelled him to return to Europe, and he lived for some time in France. At the outbreak of the Revolution he emigrated to America; but finally settled down to literary work in England. His first publication (1797) was Miscellaneous Writings consisting of Poems; Lucretia, a Tragedy; and Moral Essays, with a Vocabulary of the Passions. He translated a number of French books bearing on the French Revolution, by Bertrand de Moleville, Mallet du Pan, Hue, and Joseph Weber; also a work on Volcanoes by the Abbé Ordinaire, and an historical novel by Madame de Genlis, The Siege of Rochelle. He wrote a number of novels, among them Percival, or Nature Vindicated (1801); Aubrey: a Novel (1804); The Morlands; Tales illustrative of the Simple and Surprising (1805); The Knights; Tales illustrative of the Marvellous (1808). Later (1819 and 1823) he published two volumes of poems. He says (preface to Percival, p. ix.) that his object is “to improve the heart, as well as to please the fancy, and to be the auxiliary of the Divine and the Moralist.” He is one of the writers, others being “Gleaner” Pratt and Lord Carlisle, “whose writings” (Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Percival Stockdale, 1809, vol. i. Preface, p. xvi.) “dart through the general fog of our literary dulness.” Stockdale further says of him that he was “a man of a most affectionate and virtuous mind. He has had the moral honour, in several novels, to exert his talents, which were worthy of their glorious cause, in the service of good conduct and religion.”
Dallas’s sister, Henrietta Charlotte, married George Anson Byron, the son of Admiral the Hon. John Byron, and was therefore Byron’s aunt by marriage. On the score of this connection, Dallas introduced himself to Byron by complimenting him, in a letter dated January 6, 1808, on his Hours of Idleness. A well-meaning, self-satisfied, dull, industrious man, he gave Byron excellent moral advice, to which the latter responded as the fanfaron de ses vices, evidently with great amusement to himself. English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers was brought out under Dallas’s auspices, as well as Childe Harold and The Corsair, the profits of which Byron made over to him. Dallas distrusted his own literary judgment in the matter of Byron’s verse, and consulted Walter Wright, the author of Horæ Ioniæ, about the prospects of ‘Childe Harold’.
“I have told him,” said Wright, “that I have no doubt this will succeed. Lord Byron had offered him before some translations from Horace, which I told him would never sell, and he did not take them”
(‘Diary of H. Crabb Robinson’, vol. i. pp. 29, 30).
The connection between Dallas and Byron practically ended in 1814. The publication of Dallas’s ‘Recollections of the Life of Lord Byron from the Year 1808 to the end of 1814’ was stopped by a decree obtained by Byron’s executors, in the Court of Chancery, August 23, 1824. But the book was published by the writer’s son, the Rev. A. R. C. Dallas.]
[Footnote 2: Byron refers to the following passage in Dallas’s letter of
January 6, 1808:
“A spirit that brings to my mind another noble author, who was not only a fine poet, orator, and historian, but one of the closest reasoners we have on the truth of that religion, of which forgiveness is a prominent principle: the great and the good Lord Lyttelton, whose fame will never die. His son, to whom he had transmitted genius but not virtue, sparkled for a moment, and went out like a falling star, and with him the title became extinct. He was the victim of inordinate passions, and he will be heard of in this world only by those who read the English Peerage”
(‘Correspondence of Lord Byron’, p. 20, the suppressed edition).
Dallas was, of course, aware that Byron’s predecessor in the title,
William, fifth Lord Byron, was known as the “wicked Lord Byron.” George,
first Lord Lyttelton (1709-1773), to whom Pope refers (‘Imitations of
Horace’, bk. i. Ep. i. 1. 30) as
“Still true to virtue, and as warm as true,”
was a voluminous writer in prose and verse, but owed his political importance to his family connection with Chatham, Temple, and George Grenville. Horace Walpole calls him a “wise moppet” (‘Letters’, vol. ii. p. 28, ed. Cunningham), and repeatedly sneers at his dulness. His son Thomas, second Lord Lyttelton (1744-1779), the “wicked Lord Lyttelton,” appears in W. Combe’s ‘Diaboliad’ as the
”Peer of words,
Well known, — and honour’d in the House of Lords, —
Whose Eloquence all Parallel defies!”
who claims the throne of Hell as the worst of living men. His ‘Poems by a Young Nobleman lately deceased’ (published in 1780, after his death) may have helped Dallas in his allusion. He was the hero and the victim of the famous ghost story which Dr. Johnson was “willing to believe.”]
[Footnote 3: ‘The Critical Review’ (3rd series, vol. xii. pp. 47-53) specially praises lines “On Leaving Newstead Abbey” and “Childish Recollections.”]
[Footnote 4: In ‘Monthly Literary Recreations’ (July, 1807, pp. 67-71),
“Childish Recollections” and “The Tear” are particularly commended.
“As friends to the cause of literature, we have thought proper not to disguise our opinion of his powers, that we might alter his determination, and lead him once more to the Castalian fount.”]
[Footnote 5: ‘The Anti-Jacobin Review’ (December, 1807, pp. 407, 408) says that the poems
”exhibit strong proofs of genius, accompanied by a lively but
chastened imagination, a classical taste, and a benevolent heart.”]
[Footnote 6: The Eclectic Review (vol. iii. part ii. pp. 989-993) begins its review thus:
“The notice we take of this publication regards the author rather than the book; the book is a collectio
n of juvenile pieces, some of very moderate merit, and others of very questionable morality; but the author is a nobleman!”]
[Footnote 7: Characters in the novel called Percival.]
88. — To Robert Charles Dallas.
Dorant’s, January 21, 1808.
Sir, — Whenever leisure and inclination permit me the pleasure of a visit, I shall feel truly gratified in a personal acquaintance with one whose mind has been long known to me in his writings.
You are so far correct in your conjecture, that I am a member of the University of Cambridge, where I shall take my degree of A.M. this term; but were reasoning, eloquence, or virtue, the objects of my search, Granta is not their metropolis, nor is the place of her situation an “El Dorado,” far less an Utopia. The intellects of her children are as stagnant as her Cam, and their pursuits limited to the church — not of Christ, but of the nearest benefice.
As to my reading, I believe I may aver, without hyperbole, it has been tolerably extensive in the historical department; so that few nations exist, or have existed, with whose records I am not in some degree acquainted, from Herodotus down to Gibbon. Of the classics, I know about as much as most school-boys after a discipline of thirteen years; of the law of the land as much as enables me to keep “within the statute” — to use the poacher’s vocabulary. I did study the “Spirit of Laws” and the Law of Nations; but when I saw the latter violated every month, I gave up my attempts at so useless an accomplishment: — of geography, I have seen more land on maps than I should wish to traverse on foot; — of mathematics, enough to give me the headach without clearing the part affected; — of philosophy, astronomy, and metaphysics, more than I can comprehend; and of common sense so little, that I mean to leave a Byronian prize at each of our “Almæ Matres” for the first discovery, — though I rather fear that of the longitude will precede it.
I once thought myself a philosopher, and talked nonsense with great decorum: I defied pain, and preached up equanimity. For some time this did very well, for no one was in pain for me but my friends, and none lost their patience but my hearers. At last, a fall from my horse convinced me bodily suffering was an evil; and the worst of an argument overset my maxims and my temper at the same moment: so I quitted Zeno for Aristippus, and conceive that pleasure constitutes the [Greek (transliterated): to kalon].
In morality, I prefer Confucius to the Ten Commandments, and Socrates to St. Paul (though the two latter agree in their opinion of marriage). In religion, I favour the Catholic emancipation, but do not acknowledge the Pope; and I have refused to take the sacrament, because I do not think eating bread or drinking wine from the hand of an earthly vicar will make me an inheritor of heaven. I hold virtue, in general, or the virtues severally, to be only in the disposition, each a feeling, not a principle. I believe truth the prime attribute of the Deity, and death an eternal sleep, at least of the body. You have here a brief compendium of the sentiments of the wicked George, Lord Byron; and, till I get a new suit, you will perceive I am badly cloathed.
I remain yours, etc.,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: In Byron’s “List of historical writers whose works I have perused in different languages” (‘Life’, pp. 46, 47), occurs the name of Montesquieu. It is to his ‘Esprit des Lois’ that Byron refers.]
89. — To John Hanson.
Dorant’s, January 25th, 1808.
Sir, — The picture I have drawn of my finances is unfortunately a true one, and I find the colours may be heightened but not improved by time. — I have inclosed the receipt, and return my thanks for the loan, which shall be repaid the first opportunity. In the concluding part of my last I gave my reasons for not troubling you with my society at present, but when I can either communicate or receive pleasure, I shall not be long absent.
Yrs., etc.,
BYRON.
P.S. — I have received a letter from Whitehead, of course you know the contents, and must act as you think proper.
90. — To John Hanson.
Dorant’s, January 25th, 1808.
Dear Sir, — Some time ago I gave Mitchell the sadler [sic] a letter for you, requesting his bill might be paid from the Balance of the Quarter you obliged me by advancing. If he has received this you will further oblige me by paying what remains, I believe somewhere about five pounds, if so much.
You will confer a favour upon me by the loan of twenty. I will endeavour to repay it next week, as I have immediate occasion for that sum, and I should not require it of you could I obtain it elsewhere.
I am now in my one and twentieth year, and cannot command as many pounds. To Cambridge I cannot go without paying my bills, and at present I could as soon compass the National Debt; in London I must not remain, nor shall I, when I can procure a trifle to take me out of it. Home I have none; and if there was a possibility of getting out of the Country, I would gladly avail myself of it. But even that is denied me, my Debts amount to three thousand, three hundred to Jews, eight hundred to Mrs. B. of Nottingham, to coachmaker and other tradesmen a thousand more, and these must be much increased, before they are lessened.
Such is the prospect before me, which is by no means brightened by ill-health. I would have called on you, but I have neither spirits to enliven myself or others, or inclination to bring a gloomy face to spoil a group of happy ones. I remain,
Your obliged and obedt. sert.,
BYRON.
P.S. — Your answer to the former part will oblige, as I shall be reduced to a most unpleasant dilemma if it does not arrive.
91. — To James De Bathe.
Dorant’s Hotel, February 2d, 1808.
My Dear De Bathe, — Last Night I saw your Father and Brother, the former I have not the pleasure of knowing, but the latter informed me you came to Town on Saturday and returned yesterday.
I have received a pressing Invitation from Henry Drury to pay him a visit; in his Letter he mentions a very old Friend of yours, who told him he would join my party, if I could inform him on what day I meant to go over. This Friend you will readily conclude to be a Lord B.; but not the one who now addresses you. Shall I bring him to you? and insure a welcome for myself which perhaps might not otherwise be the case. This will not be for a Fortnight to come. I am waiting for Long, who is now at Chatham, when he arrives we shall probably drive down and dine with Drury.
I confess Harrow has lost most of its charms for me. I do not know if Delawarr is still there; but, with the exception of yourself and the Earl, I shall find myself among Strangers. Long has a Brother at Butler’s, and all his predilections remain in full force; mine are weakened, if not destroyed, and though I can safely say, I never knew a Friend out of Harrow, I question whether I have one left in it. You leave Harrow in July; may I ask what is your future Destination?
In January 1809 I shall be twenty one & in the Spring of the same year proceed abroad, not on the usual Tour, but a route of a more extensive Description. What say you? are you disposed for a view of the Peloponnesus and a voyage through the Archipelago? I am merely in jest with regard to you, but very serious with regard to my own Intention which is fixed on the Pilgrimage, unless some political view or accident induce me to postpone it. Adieu! if you have Leisure, I shall be as happy to hear from you, as I would have been to have seen you. Believe me,
Yours very truly,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Sir James Wynne De Bathe (1792-1828) succeeded his father as second baronet, February 22, 1808. “Clare, Dorset, Charles Gordon, De Bathe, Claridge, and John Wingfield, were my juniors and favourites, whom I spoilt by indulgence” (‘Life’, p. 21). De Bathe’s name does not appear in the Harrow School lists. A Captain De Bathe interested himself in the case of Medora Leigh in 1843 (see Charles Mackay’s ‘Medora Leigh’, pp. 92, 93, and elsewhere in the volume).]
92. — To William Harness.
Dorant’s Hotel, Albemarle Street, Feb. II, 1808.
My Dear Harness, — As I had no opportunity of returni
ng my verbal thanks, I trust you will accept my written acknowledgments for the compliment you were pleased to pay some production of my unlucky muse last November, — I am induced to do this not less from the pleasure I feel in the praise of an old schoolfellow, than from justice to you, for I had heard the story with some slight variations. Indeed, when we met this morning, Wingfield had not undeceived me; but he will tell you that I displayed no resentment in mentioning what I had heard, though I was not sorry to discover the truth. Perhaps you hardly recollect, some years ago, a short, though, for the time, a warm friendship between us. Why it was not of longer duration I know not. I have still a gift of yours in my possession, that must always prevent me from forgetting it. I also remember being favoured with the perusal of many of your compositions, and several other circumstances very pleasant in their day, which I will not force upon your memory, but entreat you to believe me, with much regret at their short continuance, and a hope they are not irrevocable,
Yours very sincerely, etc.,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: William Harness (1790-1869), son of Dr. J. Harness,
Commissioner of the Transport Board, was educated at Harrow and Christ’s
College, Cambridge. Ordained in 1812, he was, from 1823 to 1826, Curate
at Hampstead.
”I could quiz you heartily,” writes Mrs. Franklin to Miss Mitford
(September 6, 1824), “for having told me in three successive letters
of Mr. Harness’s chapel at Hampstead. I understand he now lives a very
retired life”
(‘The Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford’, vol. i. p. 61). From 1826 to 1844 he was Incumbent of Regent Square Chapel; Minister of Brompton Chapel (1844-47); Perpetual Curate (1849-69) of All Saints’, Knightsbridge, which he built from subscriptions raised by himself. He is described by Crabb Robinson (‘Diary’, vol. iii. p. 212) as
“a clergyman with Oxford propensities, and a worshipper of the heathen Muses as well as of the Christian Graces;”