Thomas Moore- Collected Poetical Works

by Thomas Moore

  “P.S. Pray attend to what I stated yesterday on technical topics.”

  LETTER 163. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Monday, February 14. 1814.

  “Before I left town yesterday, I wrote you a note, which I presume you received. I have heard so many different accounts of your proceedings, or rather of those of others towards you, in consequence of the publication of these everlasting lines, that I am anxious to hear from yourself the real state of the case. Whatever responsibility, obloquy, or effect is to arise from the publication, should surely not fall upon you in any degree; and I can have no objection to your stating, as distinctly and publicly as you please, your unwillingness to publish them, and my own obstinacy upon the subject. Take any course you please to vindicate yourself, but leave me to fight my own way; and, as I before said, do not compromise me by any thing which may look like shrinking on my part; as for your own, make the best of it. Yours, BN.”

  LETTER 164. TO MR. ROGERS.

  “February 16. 1814.

  “My dear Rogers,

  “I wrote to Lord Holland briefly, but I hope distinctly, on the subject which has lately occupied much of my conversation with him and you. As things now stand, upon that topic my determination must be unalterable.

  “I declare to you most sincerely that there is no human being on whose regard and esteem I set a higher value than on Lord Holland’s; and, as far as concerns himself, I would concede even to humiliation, without any view to the future, and solely from my sense of his conduct as to the past. For the rest, I conceive that I have already done all in my power by the suppression. If that is not enough, they must act as they please; but I will not ‘teach my tongue a most inherent baseness,’ come what may. You will probably be at the Marquis Lansdowne’s to-night. I am asked, but I am not sure that I shall be able to go. Hobhouse will be there. I think, if you knew him well, you would like him.

  “Believe me always yours very affectionately,

  “B.”

  LETTER 165. TO MR. ROGERS.

  “February 16. 1814.

  “If Lord Holland is satisfied, as far as regards himself and Lady Hd., and as this letter expresses him to be, it is enough.

  “As for any impression the public may receive from the revival of the lines on Lord Carlisle, let them keep it, — the more favourable for him, and the worse for me, — better for all.

  “All the sayings and doings in the world shall not make me utter another word of conciliation to any thing that breathes. I shall bear what I can, and what I cannot I shall resist. The worst they could do would be to exclude me from society. I have never courted it, nor, I may add, in the general sense of the word, enjoyed it — and ‘there is a world elsewhere!’

  “Any thing remarkably injurious, I have the same means of repaying as other men, with such interest as circumstances may annex to it.

  “Nothing but the necessity of adhering to regimen prevents me from dining with you to-morrow.

  “I am yours most truly,

  “BN.”

  LETTER 166. TO MR. MOORE.

  “February 16. 1814.

  “You may be assured that the only prickles that sting from the Royal hedgehog are those which possess a torpedo property, and may benumb some of my friends. I am quite silent, and ‘hush’d in grim repose.’ The frequency of the assaults has weakened their effects, — if ever they had any; — and, if they had had much, I should hardly have held my tongue, or withheld my fingers. It is something quite new to attack a man for abandoning his resentments. I have heard that previous praise and subsequent vituperation were rather ungrateful, but I did not know that it was wrong to endeavour to do justice to those who did not wait till I had made some amends for former and boyish prejudices, but received me into their friendship, when I might still have been their enemy.

  “You perceive justly that I must intentionally have made my fortune like Sir Francis Wronghead. It were better if there were more merit in my independence, but it really is something nowadays to be independent at all, and the less temptation to be otherwise, the more uncommon the case, in these times of paradoxical servility. I believe that most of our hates and likings have been hitherto nearly the same; but from henceforth they must, of necessity, be one and indivisible, — and now for it! I am for any weapon, — the pen, till one can find something sharper, will do for a beginning.

  “You can have no conception of the ludicrous solemnity with which these two stanzas have been treated. The Morning Post gave notice of an intended motion in the House of my brethren on the subject, and God he knows what proceedings besides; — and all this, as Bedreddin in the ‘Nights’ says, ‘for making a cream tart without pepper.’ This last piece of intelligence is, I presume, too laughable to be true; and the destruction of the Custom-house appears to have, in some degree, interfered with mine; added to which, the last battle of Buonaparte has usurped the column hitherto devoted to my bulletin.

  “I send you from this day’s Morning Post the best which have hitherto appeared on this ‘impudent doggerel,’ as the Courier calls it. There was another about my diet, when a boy — not at all bad — some time ago; but the rest are but indifferent.

  “I shall think about your oratorical hint; — but I have never set much upon ‘that cast,’ and am grown as tired as Solomon of every thing, and of myself more than any thing. This is being what the learned call philosophical, and the vulgar lack-a-daisical. I am, however, always glad of a blessing; pray, repeat yours soon, — at least your letter, and I shall think the benediction included.

  “Ever,” &c.

  LETTER 167. TO MR. DALLAS.

  “February 17. 1814.

  “The Courier of this evening accuses me of having ‘received and pocketed’ large sums for my works. I have never yet received, nor wish to receive, a farthing for any. Mr. Murray offered a thousand for The Giaour and Bride of Abydos, which I said was too much, and that if he could afford it at the end of six months, I would then direct how it might be disposed of; but neither then, nor at any other period, have I ever availed myself of the profits on my own account. For the republication of the Satire I refused four hundred guineas; and for the previous editions I never asked nor received a sous, nor for any writing whatever. I do not wish you to do any thing disagreeable to yourself; there never was nor shall be any conditions nor stipulations with regard to any accommodation that I could afford you; and, on your part, I can see nothing derogatory in receiving the copyright. It was only assistance afforded to a worthy man, by one not quite so worthy.

  “Mr. Murray is going to contradict this; but your name will not be mentioned: for your own part, you are a free agent, and are to do as you please. I only hope that now, as always, you will think that I wish to take no unfair advantage of the accidental opportunity which circumstances permitted me of being of use to you. Ever,” &c.

  In consequence of this letter, Mr. Dallas addressed an explanation to one of the newspapers, of which the following is a part; — the remainder being occupied with a rather clumsily managed defence of his noble benefactor on the subject of the Stanzas.

  TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST.

  “Sir,

  “I have seen the paragraph in an evening paper, in which Lord Byron is accused of ‘receiving and pocketing’ large sums for his works. I believe no one who knows him has the slightest suspicion of this kind; but the assertion being public, I think it a justice I owe to Lord Byron to contradict it publicly. I address this letter to you for that purpose, and I am happy that it gives me an opportunity at this moment to make some observations which I have for several days been anxious to do publicly, but from which I have been restrained by an apprehension that I should be suspected of being prompted by his Lordship.

  “I take upon me to affirm, that Lord Byron never received a shilling for any of his works. To my certain knowledge, the profits of the Satire were left entirely to the publisher of it. The gift of the copyright of Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage I have already publicly acknowledge
d in the dedication of the new edition of my novels; and I now add my acknowledgment for that of The Corsair, not only for the profitable part of it, but for the delicate and delightful manner of bestowing it while yet unpublished. With respect to his two other poems, The Giaour and The Bride of Abydos, Mr. Murray, the publisher of them, can truly attest that no part of the sale of them has ever touched his hands, or been disposed of for his use. Having said thus much as to facts, I cannot but express my surprise that it should ever be deemed a matter of reproach that he should appropriate the pecuniary returns of his works. Neither rank nor fortune seems to me to place any man above this; for what difference does it make in honour and noble feelings, whether a copyright be bestowed, or its value employed, in beneficent purposes? I differ with my Lord Byron on this subject as well as some others; and he has constantly, both by word and action, shown his aversion to receiving money for his productions.”

  LETTER. 163. TO MR. MOORE.

  “February 26. 1814.

  “Dallas had, perhaps, have better kept silence; — but that was his concern, and, as his facts are correct, and his motive not dishonourable to himself, I wished him well through it. As for his interpretations of the lines, he and any one else may interpret them as they please. I have and shall adhere to my taciturnity, unless something very particular occurs to render this impossible. Do not you say a word. If any one is to speak, it is the person principally concerned. The most amusing thing is, that every one (to me) attributes the abuse to the man they personally most dislike! — some say C * * r, some C * * e, others F * * d, &c. &c. &c. I do not know, and have no clue but conjecture. If discovered, and he turns out a hireling, he must be left to his wages; if a cavalier, he must ‘wink, and hold out his iron.’

  “I had some thoughts of putting the question to C * * r, but H., who, I am sure, would not dissuade me if it were right, advised me by all means not;— ‘that I had no right to take it upon suspicion,’ &c. &c. Whether H. is correct I am not aware, but he believes himself so, and says there can be but one opinion on that subject. This I am, at least, sure of, that he would never prevent me from doing what he deemed the duty of a preux chevalier. In such cases — at least, in this country — we must act according to usages. In considering this instance, I dismiss my own personal feelings. Any man will and must fight, when necessary, — even without a motive. Here, I should take it up really without much resentment; for, unless a woman one likes is in the way, it is some years since I felt a long anger. But, undoubtedly, could I, or may I, trace it to a man of station, I should and shall do what is proper.

  “* * was angerly, but tried to conceal it. You are not called upon to avow the ‘Twopenny,’ and would only gratify them by so doing. Do you not see the great object of all these fooleries is to set him, and you, and me, and all persons whatsoever, by the ears? — more especially those who are on good terms, — and nearly succeeded. Lord H. wished me to concede to Lord Carlisle — concede to the devil! — to a man who used me ill? I told him, in answer, that I would neither concede, nor recede on the subject, but be silent altogether; unless any thing more could be said about Lady H. and himself, who had been since my very good friends; — and there it ended. This was no time for concessions to Lord C.

  “I have been interrupted, but shall write again soon. Believe me ever, my dear Moore,” &c.

  Another of his friends having expressed, soon after, some intention of volunteering publicly in his defence, he lost no time in repressing him by the following sensible letter: —

  LETTER 169. TO W * * W * *, ESQ.

  “February 28. 1814.

  “My dear W.,

  “I have but a few moments to write to you. Silence is the only answer to the things you mention; nor should I regard that man as my friend who said a word more on the subject. I care little for attacks, but I will not submit to defences; and I do hope and trust that you have never entertained a serious thought of engaging in so foolish a controversy. Dallas’s letter was, to his credit, merely as to facts which he had a right to state; I neither have nor shall take the least public notice, nor permit any one else to do so. If I discover the writer, then I may act in a different manner; but it will not be in writing.

  “An expression in your letter has induced me to write this to you, to entreat you not to interfere in any way in such a business, — it is now nearly over, and depend upon it they are much more chagrined by my silence than they could be by the best defence in the world. I do not know any thing that would vex me more than any further reply to these things.

  “Ever yours, in haste,

  “B.”

  LETTER 170. TO MR. MOORE.

  “March 3. 1814.

  “My dear Friend,

  “I have a great mind to tell you that I am ‘uncomfortable,’ if only to make you come to town; where no one ever more delighted in seeing you, nor is there any one to whom I would sooner turn for consolation in my most vapourish moments. The truth is, I have ‘no lack of argument’ to ponder upon of the most gloomy description, but this arises from other causes. Some day or other, when we are veterans, I may tell you a tale of present and past times; and it is not from want of confidence that I do not now, — but — but — always a but to the end of the chapter.

  “There is nothing, however, upon the spot either to love or hate; — but I certainly have subjects for both at no very great distance, and am besides embarrassed between three whom I know, and one (whose name, at least,) I do not know. All this would be very well if I had no heart; but, unluckily, I have found that there is such a thing still about me, though in no very good repair, and, also, that it has a habit of attaching itself to one whether I will or no. ‘Divide et impera,’ I begin to think, will only do for politics.

  “If I discover the ‘toad’ as you call him, I shall ‘tread,’ — and put spikes in my shoes to do it more effectually. The effect of all these fine things I do not enquire much nor perceive. I believe * * felt them more than either of us. People are civil enough, and I have had no dearth of invitations, — none of which, however, I have accepted. I went out very little last year, and mean to go about still less. I have no passion for circles, and have long regretted that I ever gave way to what is called a town life; — which, of all the lives I ever saw (and they are nearly as many as Plutarch’s), seems to me to leave the least for the past and future.

  “How proceeds the poem? Do not neglect it, and I have no fears. I need not say to you that your fame is dear to me, — I really might say dearer than my own; for I have lately begun to think my things have been strangely over-rated; and, at any rate, whether or not, I have done with them for ever. I may say to you what I would not say to every body, that the last two were written, The Bride in four, and The Corsair in ten days, — which I take to be a most humiliating confession, as it proves my own want of judgment in publishing, and the public’s in reading things, which cannot have stamina for permanent attention. ‘So much for Buckingham.’

  “I have no dread of your being too hasty, and I have still less of your failing. But I think a year a very fair allotment of time to a composition which is not to be Epic; and even Horace’s ‘Nonum prematur’ must have been intended for the Millennium, or some longer-lived generation than ours. I wonder how much we should have had of him, had he observed his own doctrines to the letter. Peace be with you! Remember that I am always and most truly yours, &c.

  “P.S. I never heard the ‘report’ you mention, nor, I dare say, many others. But, in course, you, as well as others, have ‘damned good-natured friends,’ who do their duty in the usual way. One thing will make you laugh. * * * *”

  LETTER 171. TO MR. MOORE.

  “March 12. 1814.

  “Guess darkly, and you will seldom err. At present, I shall say no more, and, perhaps — but no matter. I hope we shall some day meet, and whatever years may precede or succeed it, I shall mark it with the ‘white stone’ in my calendar. I am not sure that I shall not soon be in your neighbourhood again. If so, an
d I am alone (as will probably be the case), I shall invade and carry you off, and endeavour to atone for sorry fare by a sincere welcome. I don’t know the person absent (barring ‘the sect’) I should be so glad to see again.

  “I have nothing of the sort you mention but the lines (the Weepers), if you like to have them in the Bag. I wish to give them all possible circulation. The Vault reflection is downright actionable, and to print it would be peril to the publisher; but I think the Tears have a natural right to be bagged, and the editor (whoever he may be) might supply a facetious note or not, as he pleased.

  “I cannot conceive how the Vault has got about, — but so it is. It is too farouche; but, truth to say, my satires are not very playful. I have the plan of an epistle in my head, at him and to him; and, if they are not a little quieter, I shall embody it. I should say little or nothing of myself. As to mirth and ridicule, that is out of my way; but I have a tolerable fund of sternness and contempt, and, with Juvenal before me, I shall perhaps read him a lecture he has not lately heard in the C —— t. From particular circumstances, which came to my knowledge almost by accident, I could ‘tell him what he is — I know him well.’

  “I meant, my dear M., to write to you a long letter, but I am hurried, and time clips my inclination down to yours, &c.

  “P.S. Think again before you shelf your poem. There is a youngster, (older than me, by the by, but a younger poet,) Mr. G. Knight, with a vol. of Eastern Tales, written since his return, — for he has been in the countries. He sent to me last summer, and I advised him to write one in each measure, without any intention, at that time, of doing the same thing. Since that, from a habit of writing in a fever, I have anticipated him in the variety of measures, but quite unintentionally. Of the stories, I know nothing, not having seen them; but he has some lady in a sack, too, like The Giaour: — he told me at the time.