rather the
undress--of the party, where I had introduced myself in a devil of
a hurry, and the astonishment that ensued. I had gone out of the
theatre, for coolness, into the garden;--there I had tumbled over
some dogs, and, coming away from them in very ill humour,
encountered the man in a worse, which produced all this confusion.

"Well--and why don't you 'launch?'--Now is your time. The people
are tolerably tired with me, and not very much enamoured of * *,
who has just spawned a quarto of metaphysical blank verse, which is
nevertheless only a part of a poem.

"Murray talks of divorcing Larry and Jacky--a bad sign for the
authors, who, I suppose, will be divorced too, and throw the blame
upon one another. Seriously, I don't care a cigar about it, and I
don't see why Sam should.

"Let me hear from and of you and my godson. If a daughter, the
name will do quite as well.

"Ever," &c.

[Footnote 45: His servant had brought him up a large jar of ink, into
which, not supposing it to be full, he had thrust his pen down to the
very bottom. Enraged, on finding it come out all smeared with ink, he
flung the bottle out of the window into the garden, where it lighted, as
here described, upon one of eight leaden Muses, that had been imported,
some time before, from Holland,--the ninth having been, by some
accident, left behind.]

* * * * *

LETTER 196. TO MR. MOORE.

"August 13. 1814.

"I wrote yesterday to Mayfield, and have just now enfranked your
letter to mamma. My stay in town is so uncertain (not later than
next week) that your packets for the north may not reach me; and as
I know not exactly where I am going--however, _Newstead_ is my most
probable destination, and if you send your despatches before
Tuesday, I can forward them to our new ally. But, after that day,
you had better not trust to their arrival in time.

"* * has been exiled from Paris, _on dit_, for saying the Bourbons
were old women. The Bourbons might have been content, I think, with
returning the compliment.

"I told you all about Jacky and Larry yesterday;--they are to be
separated,--at least, so says the grand M., and I know no more of
the matter. Jeffrey has done me more than 'justice;' but as to
tragedy--um!--I have no time for fiction at present. A man can