arest, and one of the few one could never repent of having loved:
but in ability--ah! you did not know Matthews!

"'Childe Harold' may wait and welcome--books are never the worse
for delay in the publication. So you have got our heir, George
Anson Byron, and his sister, with you.

"You may say what you please, but you are one of the _murderers_ of
Blackett, and yet you won't allow Harry White's genius. Setting
aside his bigotry, he surely ranks next Chatterton. It is
astonishing how little he was known; and at Cambridge no one
thought or heard of such a man till his death rendered all notice
useless. For my own part, I should have been most proud of such an
acquaintance: his very prejudices were respectable. There is a
sucking epic poet at Granta, a Mr. Townsend, _protege_ of the late
Cumberland. Did you ever hear of him and his 'Armageddon?' I think
his plan (the man I don't know) borders on the sublime: though,
perhaps, the anticipation of the 'Last Day' (according to you
Nazarenes) is a little too daring: at least, it looks like telling
the Lord what he is to do, and might remind an ill-natured person
of the line,

'And fools rush in where angels fear to tread.'

But I don't mean to cavil, only other folks will, and he may bring
all the lambs of Jacob Behmen about his ears. However, I hope he
will bring it to a conclusion, though Milton is in his way.

"Write to me--I dote on gossip--and make a bow to Ju--, and shake
George by the hand for me; but, take care, for he has a sad sea
paw.

"P.S. I would ask George here, but I don't know how to amuse
him--all my horses were sold when I left England, and I have not
had time to replace them. Nevertheless, if he will come down and
shoot in September, he will be very welcome: but he must bring a
gun, for I gave away all mine to Ali Pacha, and other Turks. Dogs,
a keeper, and plenty of game, with a very large manor, I have--a
lake, a boat, house-room, and _neat wines_."

* * * * *

LETTER 65. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Newstead Abbey, Notts., Sept. 5. 1811.

"Sir,

"The time seems to be past when (as Dr. Johnson said) a man was
certain to 'hear the truth from his bookseller,' for you have paid
me so many compliments, that, if I was not the veriest scribbler o