“I can easily excuse your not writing, as you have, I hope, something better to do, and you must pardon my frequent invasions on your attention, because I have at this moment nothing to interpose between you and my epistles.
“I cannot settle to any thing, and my days pass, with the exception of bodily exercise to some extent, with uniform indolence, and idle insipidity. I have been expecting, and still expect, my agent, when I shall have enough to occupy my reflections in business of no very pleasant aspect. Before my journey to Rochdale, you shall have due notice where to address me,—I believe at the post-office of that township. From Murray I received a second proof of the same pages, which I requested him to show you, that any thing which may have escaped my observation may be detected before the printer lays the corner-stone of an errata column.
“I am now not quite alone, having an old acquaintance and schoolfellow with me, so old, indeed, that we have nothing new to say on any subject, and yawn at each other in a sort of quiet inquietude. I hear nothing from Cawthorn, or Captain Hobhouse, and their quarto—Lord have mercy on mankind! We come on like Cerberus with our triple publications. As for myself, by myself, I must be satisfied with a comparison to Janus.
“I am not at all pleased with Murray for showing the MS.; and I am certain Gifford must see it in the same light that I do. His praise is nothing to
the purpose: what could he say? He could not spit in the face of one who had praised him
in every possible way. I must own that I wish to have the impression removed from his
mind, that I had any concern in such a paltry transaction. The more I think, the more it
disquiets me; so I will say no more about it. It is bad enough to be a scribbler,
without having recourse to such shifts to extort praise, or deprecate censure. It is
anticipating, it is begging, kneeling, adulating
| A. D. 1811. | LIFE OF LORD BYRON. | 297 |
