Your letter to me was received both by myself and Lord Byron with great pleasure. Yours of the day
following has not arrived, which is a pity, as in your last you talk of a
journal in it which, to Lord Byron—who hears nothing
but reports of Insurrection in the East, Rebellions in the West, and Murders
North and South—would be a great gratification. Lord Liverpool resigned, Lord
Wellington blown up, and half-a-dozen greatly lettered
names—with some pleasant accidents after them—is all we have to
keep us newspaperly alive. We are also quite ignorant of all literary news;
something of some poems by Coleridge,
Maturin’s play, ‘The Antiquary,’ and
‘Glenarvon’ have reached us. Since it has given you hopes of
entering well into the literary world next winter, that ‘Childe Harold’ has got
another canto of 118 stanzas, you will be more pleased to hear of another poem
of 400 lines called ‘The
‘CHILDE HAROLD,’ CANTO III. | 365 |