Chapter 3

high, and that the turf under it was particularly soft. Away he went.

Matthews and myself had travelled down from London together, talking all the way incessantly upon one single topic. When we got to Loughborough, I know not what chasm had made us diverge for a moment to some other subject, at which he was indignant. "Come," said he, "don't let us break through--let us go on as we began, to our journey's end;" and so he continued, and was as entertaining as ever to the very end. He had previously occupied, during my year's absence from Cambridge, my rooms in Trinity, with the furniture; and Jones, [8] the tutor, in his odd way, had said, on putting him in,

"Mr. Matthews, I recommend to your attention not to damage any of the moveables, for Lord Byron, Sir, is a young man of _tumultuous passions_."

Matthews was delighted with this; and whenever anybody came to visit him, begged them to handle the very door with caution; and used to repeat Jones's admonition in his tone and manner. There was a large mirror in the room, on which he remarked, "that he thought his friends were grown uncommonly assiduous in coming to _see him_, but he soon discovered that they only came to _see themselves_." Jones's phrase of "_tumultuous passions_" and the whole scene, had put him into such good humour, that I verily believe that I owed to it a portion of his good graces.

When at Newstead, somebody by accident rubbed against one of his white silk stockings, one day before dinner; of course the gentleman apologised.

"Sir," answered Matthews, "it may be all very well for you, who have a great many silk stockings, to dirty other people's; but to me, who have only this _one pair_, which I have put on in honour of the Abbot here, no apology can compensate for such carelessness; besides, the expense of washing."

He had the same sort of droll sardonic way about every thing. A wild Irishman, named Farrell, one evening began to say something at a large supper at Cambridge, Matthews roared out "Silence!" and then, pointing to Farrell, cried out, in the words of the oracle, "Orson is endowed with reason." You may easily suppose that Orson lost what reason he had acquired, on hearing this compliment. When Hobhouse published his volume of poems, the _Miscellany_ (which Matthews would call the "_Miss-sell-any_"), all that could be drawn from him was, that the preface was "extremely like _Walsh_." Hobhouse thought this at first a compliment; but we never could make out what it was, [9] for all we know of _Walsh_ is his Ode to King William, [10] and Pope's epithet of "_knowing Walsh_." [11] When the Newstead party broke up for London, Hobhouse and Matthews, who were the greatest friends possible, agreed, for a whim, to _walk together_ to town. They quarrelled by the way, and actually walked the latter half of the journey, occasionally passing and repassing, without speaking. When Matthews had got to Highgate, he had spent all his money but three-pence halfpenny, and determined to spend that also in a pint of beer, which I believe he was drinking before a public-house, as Hobhouse passed him (still without speaking) for the last time on their route. They were reconciled in London again.

One of Matthews's passions was "the fancy;" and he sparred uncommonly well. But he always got beaten in rows, or combats with the bare fist. In swimming, too, he swam well; but with _effort_ and _labour_, and _too high_ out of the water; so that Scrope Davies [1] and myself, of whom he was therein somewhat emulous, always told him that he would be drowned if ever he came to a difficult pass in the water. He was so; but surely Scrope and myself would have been most heartily glad that

"the Dean had lived, And our prediction proved a lie."

His head was uncommonly handsome, very like what _Pope's_ was in his youth.

His voice, and laugh, and features, are strongly resembled by his brother Henry's, if Henry be _he_ of _King's College_. His passion for boxing was so great, that he actually wanted me to match him with Dogherty [13] (whom I had backed and made the match for against Tom Belcher [14]), and I saw them spar together at my own lodgings with the gloves on. As he was bent upon it, I would have backed Dogherty to please him, but the match went off. It was of course to have been a private fight, in a private room.

On one occasion, being too late to go home and dress, he was equipped by a friend (Mr. Baillie, I believe,) in a magnificently fashionable and somewhat exaggerated shirt and neckcloth. He proceeded to the Opera, and took his station in Fop's Alley. During the interval between the opera and the ballet, an acquaintance took his station by him and saluted him:

"Come round," said Matthews, "come round."

"Why should I come round?" said the other; "you have only to turn your head--I am close by you."

"That is exactly what I cannot do," said Matthews; "don't you see the state I am in?"

pointing to his buckram shirt collar and inflexible cravat,--and there he stood with his head always in the same perpendicular position during the whole spectacle.

One evening, after dining together, as we were going to the Opera, I happened to have a spare Opera ticket (as subscriber to a box), and presented it to Matthews.

"Now, sir," said he to Hobhouse afterwards, "this I call _courteous_ in the Abbot--another man would never have thought that I might do better with half a guinea than throw it to a door-keeper;--but here is a man not only asks me to dinner, but gives me a ticket for the theatre."

These were only his oddities, for no man was more liberal, or more honourable in all his doings and dealings, than Matthews. He gave Hobhouse and me, before we set out for Constantinople, a most splendid entertainment, to which we did ample justice. One of his fancies was dining at all sorts of out-of-the-way places. Somebody popped upon him in I know not what coffee-house in the Strand--and what do you think was the attraction? Why, that he paid a shilling (I think) to _dine with his hat on_. This he called his "_hat_ house," and used to boast of the comfort of being covered at meal times.

When Sir Henry Smith [15] was expelled from Cambridge for a row with a tradesman named "Hiron," Matthews solaced himself with shouting under Hiron's windows every evening,

"Ah me! what perils do environ The man who meddles with _hot Hiron_."

He was also of that band of profane scoffers who, under the auspices of----, used to rouse Lort Mansel (late Bishop of Bristol) from his slumbers in the lodge of Trinity; and when he appeared at the window foaming with wrath, and crying out, "I know you, gentlemen, I know you!" were wont to reply, "We beseech thee to hear us, good Lort!"--"Good Lort deliver us!" (Lort was his Christian name.) As he was very free in his speculations upon all kinds of subjects, although by no means either dissolute or intemperate in his conduct, and as I was no less independent, our conversation and correspondence used to alarm our friend Hobhouse to a considerable degree.

You must be almost tired of my packets, which will have cost a mint of postage.

Salute Gifford and all my friends.

Yours, etc.

[Footnote 1: This letter, though written twelve years later, belongs to the Cambridge period of Byron's life. It is therefore introduced here. (For John Murray, see [Foot]note [1] to letter to R. C. Dallas [Letter 167] of August 21, 1811.)]

[Footnote 2: Charles Skinner Matthews was known at Eton as Matthews 'major', his 'minor' being his brother Henry, the author of 'The Diary of an Invalid', afterwards a Judge in the Supreme Court of Ceylon, who died in 1828. They were the sons of John Matthews of Belmont, Herefordshire, M.P. for that county (1802-6). C. S. Matthews became a Scholar of Trinity, Cambridge; Ninth Wrangler in 1805; First Members' Prizeman in 1807; Fellow of Downing in 1808. He was drowned in the Cam in August, 1811. He at the time contemplated standing as Member for the University of Cambridge. For a description of the accident, see letter from Henry Drury to Francis Hodgson ('Life of the Rev. Francis Hodgson', vol. i. pp. 182-185). In the note to 'Childe Harold', Canto I. stanza xci., Byron speaks of Matthews:

"I should have ventured a verse to the memory of the late Charles Skinner Matthews, Fellow of Downing College, Cambridge, were he not too much above all praise of mine. His powers of mind, shown in the attainment of greater honours, against the ablest candidates, than those of any graduate on record at Cambridge, have sufficiently established his fame on the spot where it was acquired; while his softer qualities live in the recollection of friends who loved him too well to envy his superiority."]

[Footnote 3: See page 120 [Letter 67], [Foot]note 1.]

[Footnote 4: See page 73 [Letter 31], [Foot]note 2.]

[Footnote 5: See page 163 [Letter 83], note 1 [5].]

[Footnote 6: Of this visit to Newstead, Matthews wrote the following account to his sister:--

"London, May 22, 1809.

"My Dear----,--I must begin with giving you a few particulars of the singular place which I have lately quitted.

Newstead Abbey is situate 136 miles from London,--four on this side Mansfield. It is so fine a piece of antiquity, that I should think there must be a description, and, perhaps, a picture of it in Grose. The ancestors of its present owner came into possession of it at the time of the dissolution of the monasteries,--but the building itself is of a much earlier date. Though sadly fallen to decay, it is still completely an _abbey_, and most part of it is still standing in the same state as when it was first built. There are two tiers of cloisters, with a variety of cells and rooms about them, which, though not inhabited, nor in an inhabitable state, might easily be made so; and many of the original rooms, amongst which is a fine stone hall, are still in use. Of the abbey church only one end remains; and the old kitchen, with a long range of apartments, is reduced to a heap of rubbish. Leading from the abbey to the modern part of the habitation is a noble room, seventy feet in length, and twenty-three in breadth; but every part of the house displays neglect and decay, save those which the present Lord has lately fitted up.

The house and gardens are entirely surrounded by a wall with battlements. In front is a large lake, bordered here and there with castellated buildings, the chief of which stands on an eminence at the further extremity of it. Fancy all this surrounded with bleak and barren hills, with scarce a tree to be seen for miles, except a solitary clump or two, and you will have some idea of Newstead. For the late Lord, being at enmity with his son, to whom the estate was secured by entail, resolved, out of spite to the same, that the estate should descend to him in as miserable a plight as he could possibly reduce it to; for which cause, he took no care of the mansion, and fell to lopping of every tree he could lay his hands on, so furiously, that he reduced immense tracts of woodland country to the desolate state I have just described. However, his son died before him, so that all his rage was thrown away.

So much for the place, concerning which I have thrown together these few particulars, meaning my account to be, like the place itself, without any order or connection. But if the place itself appear rather strange to you, the ways of the inhabitants will not appear much less so. Ascend, then, with me the hall steps, that I may introduce you to my Lord and his visitants. But have a care how you proceed; be mindful to go there in broad daylight, and with your eyes about you. For, should you make any blunder,--should you go to the right of the hall steps, you are laid hold of by a bear; and should you go to the left, your case is still worse, for you run full against a wolf!--Nor, when you have attained the door, is your danger over; for the hall being decayed, and therefore standing in need of repair, a bevy of inmates are very probably banging at one end of it with their pistols; so that if you enter without giving loud notice of your approach, you have only escaped the wolf and the bear to expire by the pistol-shots of the merry monks of Newstead.

Our party consisted of Lord Byron and four others, and was, now and then, increased by the presence of a neighbouring parson. As for our way of living, the order of the day was generally this:--for breakfast we had no set hour, but each suited his own convenience, --everything remaining on the table till the whole party had done; though had one wished to breakfast at the early hour of ten, one would have been rather lucky to find any of the servants up. Our average hour of rising was one. I, who generally got up between eleven and twelve, was always,--even when an invalid,--the first of the party, and was esteemed a prodigy of early rising. It was frequently past two before the breakfast party broke up. Then, for the amusements of the morning, there was reading, fencing, single-stick, or shuttle-cock, in the great room; practising with pistols in the hall; walking--riding--cricket--sailing on the lake, playing with the bear, or teasing the wolf. Between seven and eight we dined; and our evening lasted from that time till one, two, or three in the morning. The evening diversions may be easily conceived.

I must not omit the custom of handing round, after dinner, on the removal of the cloth, a human skull filled with burgundy. After revelling on choice viands, and the finest wines of France, we adjourned to tea, where we amused ourselves with reading, or improving conversation,--each, according to his fancy,--and, after sandwiches, etc., retired to rest. A set of monkish dresses, which had been provided, with all the proper apparatus of crosses, beads, tonsures, etc., often gave a variety to our appearance, and to our pursuits.

You may easily imagine how chagrined I was at being ill nearly the first half of the time I was there. But I was led into a very different reflection from that of Dr. Swift, who left Pope's house without ceremony, and afterwards informed him, by letter, that it was impossible for two sick friends to live together; for I found my shivering and invalid frame so perpetually annoyed by the thoughtless and tumultuous health of every one about me, that I heartily wished every soul in the house to be as ill as myself.

"The journey back I performed on foot, together with another of the guests. We walked about twenty-five miles a day; but were a week on the road, from being detained by the rain. So here I close my account of an expedition which has somewhat extended my knowledge of this country. And where do you think I am going next? To Constantinople!--at least, such an excursion has been proposed to me. Lord B. and another friend of mine are going thither next month, and have asked me to join the party; but it seems to be but a wild scheme, and requires twice thinking upon.

"Addio, my dear I., yours very affectionately, C. S. MATTHEWS."]

[Footnote 7: A joke, related by Hobhouse, reminds us of the youth of the party. In the Long Gallery at Newstead was placed a stone coffin, from which, as he passed down the Gallery at night, he heard a groan proceeding. On going nearer, a cowled figure rose from the coffin and blew out the candle. It was Matthews.]

[Footnote 8: The Rev. Thomas Jones. (See page 79 [Letter 36], [Foot]note 1.)]

[Footnote 9: The only thing remarkable about Walsh's preface is that Dr. Johnson praises it as "very judicious," but is, at the same time, silent respecting the poems to which it is prefixed (Moore).]

[Footnote 10: No "Ode" under this title is to be found in Walsh's Poems. Byron had, no doubt, in mind _The Golden Age Restored_--a composition in which, says Dr. Johnson, "there was something of humour, while the facts were recent; but it now strikes no longer."]

[Footnote 11:

"----Granville the polite, And _knowing Walsh_, would tell me I could write."

"About fifteen," says Pope, "I got acquainted with Mr. Walsh. He used to encourage me much, and tell me, that there was one way left of excelling: for though we had several great poets, we never had any one great poet that was correct; and he desired me to make that my study and aim" (Spence's _Anecdotes_, edit. 1820, p. 280).]

[Footnote 12: See page 165 [Letter 86], [Foot]note 2.]

[Footnote 13: Dan Dogherty, Irish champion (1806-11), came into notice as a pugilist in 1806. He was beaten by Belcher in April, 1808, near the Rubbing House on Epsom Downs, and again on the Curragh of Kildare, in 1813, in thirty-five minutes, after twenty-six rounds.]

[Footnote 14: Tom Belcher (1783-1854), younger brother of Jem Belcher the champion, fought and won his first fight in London, in 1804, against Warr. The fight took place in Tothill Fields, Westminster. Twice beaten by Dutch Sam (Elias Samuel), in 1806 and 1807, he never held the championship, which a man of his height (5 ft. 9 ins.) and weight (10 st. 12 lbs.) could scarcely hope to win. But he repeatedly established the superiority of art over strength, and was one of the most popular and respectable pugilists of the day. Under his management the Castle Tavern at Holborn, in which he succeeded Gregson (page 207 [Letter 108], [Foot]note 1 [2]), was the head-quarters of pugilism.]

[Footnote 15: Sir Henry Smyth, Baronet, of Trinity Hall, A.M. 1805, was found between eleven and twelve at night, on May 11, 1805, "inciting to a disturbance" at the shop of a Mrs. Thrower on Market Hill. Other members of the University seem to have been equally guilty. The sentence of the Vice-Chancellor and Heads was "that he be suspended from his degree and banished from the University." The others were admonished only; so it was clearly considered that Smyth was the ring-leader.]

85.--To Henry Drury. [1]

Dorant's Hotel, Jan. 13, 1808.

My Dear Sir,--Though the stupidity of my servants, or the porter of the house, in not showing you up stairs (where I should have joined you directly), prevented me the pleasure of seeing you yesterday, I hoped to meet you at some public place in the evening. However, my stars decreed otherwise, as they generally do, when I have any favour to request of them. I think you would have been surprised at my figure, for, since our last meeting, I am reduced four stone in weight. I then weighed fourteen stone seven pound, and now only _ten stone and a half_. I have disposed of my _superfluities_ by means of hard exercise and abstinence.

Should your Harrow engagements allow you to visit town between this and February, I shall be most happy to see you in Albemarle Street. If I am not so fortunate, I shall endeavour to join you for an afternoon at Harrow, though, I fear, your cellar will by no means contribute to my cure. As for my worthy preceptor, Dr. B., [2] our encounter would by no means prevent the _mutual endearments_ he and I were wont to lavish on each other. We have only spoken once since my departure from Harrow in 1805, and then he politely told Tatersall [3] I was not a proper associate for his pupils. This was long before my strictures in verse; but, in plain _prose_, had I been some years older, I should have held my tongue on his perfections. But, being laid on my back, when that schoolboy thing was written--or rather dictated--expecting to rise no more, my physician having taken his sixteenth fee, and I his prescription, I could not quit this earth without leaving a memento of my constant attachment to Butler in gratitude for his manifold good offices.

I meant to have been down in July; but thinking my appearance, immediately after the publication, would be construed into an insult, I directed my steps elsewhere. Besides, I heard that some of the boys had got hold of my _Libellus_, contrary to my wishes certainly, for I never transmitted a single copy till October, when I gave one to a boy, since gone, after repeated importunities. You will, I trust, pardon this egotism. As you had touched on the subject I thought some explanation necessary. Defence I shall not attempt, _Hic murus aheneus esto, nil conscire sibi_--and "so on" (as Lord Baltimore [4] said on his trial for a rape)--I have been so long at Trinity as to forget the conclusion of the line; but though I cannot finish my quotation, I will my letter, and entreat you to believe me, gratefully and affectionately, etc.

P.S.--I will not lay a tax on your time by requiring an answer, lest you say, as Butler said to Tatersall (when I had written his reverence an impudent epistle on the expression before mentioned), viz. "that I wanted to draw him into a correspondence."

[Footnote 1: See page 12 [Letter 4], [Foot]note 1 [2]; and page 41 [Letter 14], [Foot] note 2 [1].]

[Footnote 2: Dr. Butler, Head-master of Harrow (see page 58 [Letter 22], [Foot]note 1).]

[Footnote 3: See page 59 [Letter 22], [Foot]note 1 [2].]

[Footnote 4: Francis Calvert, seventh Lord Baltimore (1731-1771), was charged with decoying a young milliner, named Sarah Woodcock, to his house, and with rape. On February 12, 1768, he was committed for trial at the Spring assizes, was tried at Kingston, March 26, 1768, and acquitted. The story is the subject of a romance, 'Injured Innocence; or the Rape of Sarah Woodcock;' A Tale, by S. J., Esq., of Magdalen College, Oxford. New York (no date).

"I thank God," Lord Baltimore is reported to have said, "that I have had firmness and resolution to meet my accusers face to face, and provoke an enquiry into my conduct, 'Hic murus aheneus esto, nil conscire sibi'"

('Ann. Register' for 1768, p. 234). His body lay in state at Exeter Change, previous to its interment at Epsom (Leigh Hunt's 'The Town', edit. 1893, p. 191).]

86.--To John Cam Hobhouse. [1]

Newstead Abbey, Notts, January 16, 1808.

My Dear Hobhouse,--I do not know how the _dens_-descended Davies [2] came to mention his having received a copy of my epistle to you, but I addressed him and you on the same evening, and being much incensed at the account I had received from Wallace, I communicated the contents to the Birdmore, though without any of that malice wherewith you charge me. I shall leave my card at Batts, and hope to see you in your progress to the North.

I have lately discovered Scrope's genealogy to be ennobled by a collateral tie with the Beardmore, Chirurgeon and Dentist to Royalty, and that the town of Southwell contains cousins of Scrope's, who disowned them (I grieve to speak it) on visiting that city in my society.

How I found this out I will disclose, the first time "we three meet again." But why did he conceal his lineage? "Ah, my dear H., it was _cruel_, it was _insulting_, it was _unnecessary_."

I have (notwithstanding your kind invitation to Wallace) been alone since the 8th of December; nothing of moment has occurred since our anniversary row. I shall be in London on the 19th; there are to be oxen roasted and sheep boiled on the 22nd, with ale and uproar for the mobility; a feast is also providing for the tenantry. For my own part, I shall know as little of the matter as a corpse of the funeral solemnized in its honour.

A letter addressed to Reddish's will find me. I still intend publishing the _Bards_, but I have altered a good deal of the "Body of the Book," added and interpolated, with some excisions; your lines still stand, [3] and in all there will appear 624 lines.

I should like much to see your Essay upon Entrails: is there any honorary token of silver gilt? any cups, or pounds sterling attached to the prize, besides glory? I expect to see you with a medal suspended from your button-hole, like a Croix de St. Louis.

Fletcher's father is deceased, and has left his son tway cottages, value ten pounds per annum. I know not how it is, but Fletch., though only the third brother, conceives himself entitled to all the estates of the defunct, and I have recommended him to a lawyer, who, I fear, will triumph in the spoils of this ancient family. A Birthday Ode has been addressed to me by a country schoolmaster, in which I am likened to the Sun, or Sol, as he classically saith; the people of Newstead are compared to Laplanders. I am said to be a Baron, and a Byron, the truth of which is indisputable. Feronia is again to reign (she must have some woods to govern first), but it is altogether a very pleasant performance, and the author is as superior to Pye, as George Gordon to George Guelph. To be sure some of the lines are too short, but then, to make amends, the Alexandrines have from fifteen to seventeen syllables, so we may call them Alexandrines the great.

I shall be glad to hear from you, and beg you to believe me,

Yours very truly,

BYRON.

[Footnote 1: John Cam Hobhouse (1786-1869), created in 1851 Baron Broughton de Gyfford, was the eldest son of Mr. Benjamin Hobhouse, created a baronet in 1812, and M.P. (from 1797 to 1818) successively for Bletchingley, Grampound, and Hindon. From a school at Bristol, John Cam Hobhouse was sent to Westminster, and thence to Trinity, Cambridge, where he won (1808) the Hulsean Prize for an essay on "Sacrifices," and made acquaintance with Byron, as related in Letter 84. In 1809 he published a poetical miscellany, consisting of sixty-five pieces, under the title of 'Imitations and Translations from the Ancient and Modern Classics, together with original Poems never before published' (London, 1809, 8vo). (For Byron's nine contributions, see 'Poems', vol. i., Bibliographical Note.) In 1809-10 he was Byron's travelling companion abroad (see 'A Journey through Albania, etc.' London, 1813, 4to).

In 1813 he travelled with Douglas Kinnaird in Sweden, Germany, Austria, and Italy; in 1814 he was at Paris with the allied armies; and in April, 1815, was there again till the second Napoleonic war broke out, returning to witness the second restoration of the Bourbons (see his 'Letters--written by an Englishman resident in Paris, etc.' Anon., London, 1816, 2 vols., 8vo). During 1814 he was much with Byron in London. He notes going with him to Drury Lane, and being introduced with him to Kean (May 19); dining with him at Lord Tavistock's (June 4); dining with him at Douglas Kinnaird's, to meet Kean (December 14). He was Byron's best man at his marriage at Seaham (January 2, 1815), and it was to him that the bride said, "If I am not happy, it will be my own fault." He was the last person who shook hands with Byron on Dover pier, when the latter left England in 1816. Later in the same year he was with him at the Villa Diodati, on the Lake of Geneva, and travelled with him to Venice. To him Byron dedicated 'The Siege of Corinth', In the next year he was again with Byron in the Villa La Mira on the banks of the Brenta, and at Venice, where he prepared the commentary on the fourth canto of 'Childe Harold', which Byron dedicated to him. Part of the notes were published separately ('Historical Illustrations, etc.' London, 1818, 8vo). In 1818 Hobhouse stood for Westminster, but was defeated by George Lamb, the representative of the official Whigs. He was an original member of "The Rota Club," afterwards known as "Harrington's," to which Michael Bruce, Douglas Kinnaird, Scrope Davies, and others belonged, and which Byron, writing from Italy, expressed a wish to join. He had now embarked on political life. His pamphlet, 'A Defence of the People' (1819), was followed in the same year by 'A Trifling Mistake', which was declared by the House of Commons to be a breach of privilege. In consequence, he was committed to Newgate. The death of George III., and the dissolution of Parliament, set him free. He contested Westminster, won the seat with Sir Francis Burdett as his colleague, and represented it for thirteen years. He took the part of Queen Caroline against the Government. At the Queen's funeral (August 7, 1821) he attended the procession which escorted her body (August 13) from Brandenburg House to Harwich, and saw the coffin placed upon the vessel.

His political career was long, independent, useful, and distinguished, and he specially associated himself with such questions as the shortening of the hours for infant labour, the opening up of metropolitan vestries, and the subject of parliamentary reform. In 1832 he was made a Privy Councillor, and became Secretary at War in Lord Grey's Ministry. This post, finding himself unable to effect essential reforms at the War Office, he exchanged for that of Secretary for Ireland (1833); but he resigned both his office and his seat a few weeks later, being opposed to the Government on a question of taxation. In 1834 he joined Lord Melbourne's Government as First Commissioner of Woods and Forests, with a seat in the Cabinet. In Lord Melbourne's second administration, and again in Lord J. Russell's Government of 1846, he was President of the Board of Control. On his retirement from public life, in 1852, he received high recognition of his official services from the Queen, who conferred on him the Grand Cross of the Bath and a peerage. Hobhouse was present at Her Majesty's first Council, and is said to have originated the phrase, "Her Majesty's Opposition."

In 1822 he travelled in Italy (see 'Italy: Remarks made in Several Visits from the Year 1816 to 1834', London, 1859, 2 vols., 8vo). There, on September 20, at Pisa, he for the last time saw Byron, whose parting words were, "Hobhouse, you should never have come, or you should never go." In July, 1824, when Byron's body was brought home, he boarded the 'Florida' in Sandgate Creek, and took charge of the funeral ceremonies from Westminster Stairs to the interment at Hucknall Torkard. He prepared an article for the 'Quarterly Review', exposing the absurdities of Medwin's 'Conversations' and of Dallas's 'Recollections'; but, owing to difficulties with Southey, it was not published. It was the substance of this article which afterwards appeared in the 'Westminster Review' in 1825. In 1830 he wrote, but, by Lord Holland's advice, withheld, a refutation of the charges made against the dead poet as to his separation from Lady Byron. He has, however, left on record that it was not fear which induced Byron to agree to the separation, but that, on the contrary, he was ready to "go into court."

The staunchest of Byron's friends, Hobhouse was also the most sensible and candid. As such Byron valued him. Talking to Lady Blessington at Genoa, in 1823, he said ('Conversations', p. 93) that Hobhouse was

"the most impartial, or perhaps," added he, "'unpartial', of my friends; he always told me my faults, but I must do him the justice to add, that he told them to 'me', and not to others."

On another occasion he said (p. 172),

"If friendship, as most people imagine, consists in telling one truth--unvarnished, unadorned truth--he is indeed a friend: yet, hang it, I must be candid, and say I have had many other, and more agreeable, proofs of Hobhouse's friendship than the truths he always told me; but the fact is, I wanted him to sugar them over a little with flattery, as nurses do the physic given to children; and he never would, and therefore I have never felt quite content with him, though, 'au fond', I respect him the more for his candour, while I respect myself very much less for my weakness in disliking it."]

[Footnote 2: Scrope Berdmore Davies (1783-1852), born at Horsley, in Gloucestershire, was educated at Eton, and King's College, Cambridge, where he was admitted a Scholar in July, 1802, and a Fellow in July, 1805. In 1803 he was awarded by the Provost of Eton the Belham Scholarship, given to those Scholars of King's who had behaved well at Eton, and held it till 1816. A witty companion, with "a dry caustic manner, and an irresistible stammer" ('Life of Rev, F. Hodgson', vol. i. p. 204), Davies was, during the Regency and afterwards, a popular member of fashionable society. A daring gambler and shrewd calculator, he at one time won heavily at the gaming-tables. On June 10, 1814, as he told Hobhouse, he won £6065 at Watier's Club at Macao. Captain Cronow, in his 'Reminiscences' (ed. 1860, vol. i. pp. 93-96), sketches him among "Golden Ball" Hughes, "King" Allen, and other dandies. But luck turned against him, and he retired, poverty-stricken and almost dependent upon his Fellowship, to Paris, where he died, May 23, 1852. It was supposed he had for many years occupied himself with writing his recollections of his friends. But the notes, if they were ever written, have disappeared.

Byron, who hated obligations, as he himself says, counted Davies as a friend, though not on the same plane as Hobhouse. He borrowed from Davies £4800 before he left England in 1809, repaid him in 1814, and dedicated to him his 'Parisina'. In his 'MS. Journal' ('Life', pp. 129, 130) he says,

"One of the cleverest men I ever knew, in conversation, was Scrope Berdmore Davies. Hobhouse is also very good in that line, though it is of less consequence to a man who has other ways of showing his talents than in company. Scrope was always ready, and often witty--Hobhouse was witty, but not always so ready, being more diffident."

Byron appointed him one of the executors of his will of 1811. In his 'Journal' for March 28, 1814 ('Life', p. 234), occurs this entry:

"Yesterday, dined tête à tête at the Cocoa with Scrope Davies--sat from six till midnight--drank between us one bottle of champagne and six of claret, neither of which wines ever affect me. Offered to take Scrope home in my carriage; but he was tipsy and pious, and I was obliged to leave him on his knees praying to I know not what purpose or pagod. No headach, nor sickness, that night, nor to-day. Got up, if anything, earlier than usual--sparred with Jackson 'ad sudorem', and have been much better in health than for many days. I have heard nothing more from Scrope."

Scrope Davies visited Byron at the Villa Diodati, in 1816, and brought back with him 'Childe Harold', canto iii. On his return he gave evidence in the case of 'Byron v. Johnson', before the Lord Chancellor, November 28, 1816, when an injunction was obtained to restrain Johnson from publishing a volume containing 'Lord Byron's Childe Harold's Pilgrimage to the Holy Land', and other works, which he professed to have bought from Byron for £500.

According to Gronow ('Reminiscences', vol. i. p. 153, 154), Scrope Davies, asked to give his private opinion of Byron, said that he considered him

"very agreeable and clever, but vain, overbearing, suspicious, and jealous. Byron hated Palmerston, but liked Peel, and thought that the whole world ought to be constantly employed in admiring his poetry and himself."]

[Footnote 3: For Hobhouse's lines on Bowles, see 'English Bards, etc.', line 384, and note.]

87.--To Robert Charles Dallas. [1]

Dorant's Hotel, Albemarle Street, Jan. 20, 1808.

Sir,--Your letter was not received till this morning, I presume from being addressed to me in Notts., where I have not resided since last June; and as the date is the 6th, you will excuse the delay of my answer.

If the little volume you mention has given pleasure to the author of _Percival_ and _Aubrey_, I am sufficiently repaid by his praise. Though our periodical censors have been uncommonly lenient, I confess a tribute from a man of acknowledged genius is still more flattering. But I am afraid I should forfeit all claim to candour, if I did not decline such praise as I do not deserve; and this is, I am sorry to say, the case in the present instance.

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 [2] 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', [3] 'Monthly', [4] and 'Anti-Jacobin [5] Reviews' have been very indulgent; but the 'Eclectic' [6] 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." [7] 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 collection 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" [1] 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. [1]

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. [1]

Dorant's Hotel, Albemarle Street, Feb. II, 1808.

My Dear Harness,--As I had no opportunity of returning 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 [2] 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;"

and again (iii. 326), as

"a man of taste, of High Church principles and liberal in spirit."

Miss Mitford ('The Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford', vol. ii. p. 289) writes that

"he has neither Catholic nor Puseyite tendencies,--only it is a large and liberal mind like Bishop Stanley's, believing good men and good Christians may exist among Papists, and will be as safe there as if they were Protestants."

Again (vol. ii. p. 295) she says of him:

"Besides his varied accomplishments, and his admirable goodness and kindness, he has all sorts of amusing peculiarities. With a temper never known to fail, an indulgence the largest, a tenderness as of a woman, he has the habit of talking like a cynic! and with more learning, ancient and modern, and a wider grasp of literature than almost any one I know, professes to read nothing and care for nothing but 'Shakespeare and the Bible.' He is the finest reader of both that I ever heard. His preaching, which has been so much admired, is too rapid, but his reading the prayers is perfection. The best parish priest in London, and the truest Christian."

Miss Mitford's praise may be exaggerated; but she had known Harness for a lifetime.

Harness edited 'Shakespeare' (1825, 8 vols.), as well as 'Massinger' (1830) and 'Ford' (1831); wrote for the 'Quarterly' and 'Blackwood'; and published a number of sermons, including 'The Wrath of Cain', 'A Boyle Lecture' (1822). He wrote 'The Life of Mary Russell Mitford' (1870), in collaboration with the Rev. A. G. L'Estrange, whose 'Life of the Rev. W. Harness' is the chief authority for his career.

His friendship with Byron began at Harrow ('Life', pp. 23, 24), where Byron, who was older than Harness, took pity upon his lameness and weakness, and protected him from the bullies of the school. At a later period they became estranged, as is shown by the following letter from Byron to Harness ('Life', pp. 24, 25):--

"We both seem perfectly to recollect, with a mixture of pleasure and regret, the hours we once passed together, and I assure you, most sincerely, they are numbered among the happiest of my brief chronicle of enjoyment. I am now 'getting into years', that is to say, I was 'twenty' a month ago, and another year will send me into the world to run my career of folly with the rest. I was then just fourteen,--you were almost the first of my Harrow friends, certainly the 'first' in my esteem, if not in date; but an absence from Harrow for some time, shortly after, and new connections on your side, and the difference in our conduct (an advantage decidedly in your favour) from that turbulent and riotous disposition of mine, which impelled me into every species of mischief,--all these circumstances combined to destroy an intimacy, which affection urged me to continue, and memory compels me to regret. But there is not a circumstance attending that period, hardly a sentence we exchanged, which is not impressed on my mind at this moment. I need not say more,--this assurance alone must convince you, had I considered them as trivial, they would have been less indelible. How well I recollect the perusal of your 'first flights'! There is another circumstance you do not know;--the 'first lines' I ever attempted at Harrow were addressed to 'you'. You were to have seen them; but Sinclair had the copy in his possession when we went home;--and, on our return, we were 'strangers'. They were destroyed, and certainly no great loss; but you will perceive from this circumstance my opinions at an age when we cannot be hypocrites.

I have dwelt longer on this theme than I intended, and I shall now conclude with what I ought to have begun. We were once friends,--nay, we have always been so, for our separation was the effect of chance, not of dissension. I do not know how far our destinations in life may throw us together, but if opportunity and inclination allow you to waste a thought on such a hare-brained being as myself, you will find me at least sincere, and not so bigoted to my faults as to involve others in the consequences. Will you sometimes write to me? I do not ask it often; and, if we meet, let us be what we 'should' be, and what we 'were'."

The following is Harness's own account of the circumstances in which