LORD  BYRON  and  his  TIMES
Byron
Documents Biography Criticism

Memoir of John Murray
Isaac D’Israeli to John Murray, [1805?]
INTRODUCTION & INDEXES
DOCUMENT INFORMATION
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Preface
Vol. 1 Contents
Chapter I.
Chapter II.
Chapter III.
Chapter IV.
Chapter V.
Chapter VI.
Chapter VII.
Chapter VIII.
Chapter IX.
Chapter X.
Chapter XI.
Chapter XII.
Chapter XIII.
Chapter XIV.
Chapter XV.
Chapter XVI.
Chapter XVII.
Chapter XVIII.
Chapter XIX.
Vol. 2 Contents
Chap. XX.
Chap. XXI.
Chap. XXII.
Chap. XXIII.
Chap. XXIV.
Chap. XXV.
Chap. XXVI.
Chap. XXVII.
Chap. XXVIII.
Chap. XXIX.
Chap. XXX.
Chap. XXXI.
Chap. XXXII.
Chap. XXXIII.
Chap. XXXIV.
Chap. XXXV.
Chap. XXXVI.
Chap. XXXVII.
Index
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It is a most disagreeable office to give opinions on MSS.; one reads them at a moment when one has other things in one’s head—then one is obliged to fatigue the brain with thinking; but if I can occasionally hinder you from publishing nugatory works, I do not grudge the pains. At the same time I surely need not add, how very confidential such communications ought to be.

When you write, make your letter as short as you choose,
ISAAC D’ISRAELI.51
for I see you are deeply occupied. The
Prince’s band is now arranged before my house, and I shall be overtaken by a storm of music! Mellish has been the grand dasher here; had £25,000 depending on two or three races! Had his horse Sancho not been extraordinarily successful ’tis said he meant to have shot himself. He kissed and hugged him on the grounds. At length closes his present account with a poor £5000 winner. Rode a donkey-race with Lord Petersham, who, Phaethon-like, could not manage his ass, and was dashed into a cloud of dust, rolling on the earth by (like Phaethon) carrying himself too near it. I have not done with Mellish; I hope one day to begin on him. He has thrown out a fine estate in Yorkshire, from a dice-box; anticipated his mother’s jointure; drives round the Steyne all the morning, to the terror of nurses and children; bursts into the shops of milliners. This delightful boy of folly has not yet shot himself; but the time ought to be very near. He is getting old—twenty-five! he has lasted a good while, and the chink of his last guinea will soon be heard.

Your humble and affectionate nephew,
I. D’I.