297.--To Francis Hodgson.
June 6, 1813.
MY DEAR HODGSON,--I write to you a few lines on business. Murray has thought proper at his own risk, and peril, and profit (if there be any) to publish "The Giaour"; and it may possibly come under your ordeal in the "Monthly" [1] I merely wish to state that in the published copies there are additions to the amount of ten pages, _text_ and _margin_ (_chiefly_ the last), which render it a little less unfinished (but more unintelligible) than before. If, therefore, you review it, let it be from the published copies and not from the first sketch. I shall not sail for this month, and shall be in town again next week, when I shall be happy to hear from you but more glad to see you. You know I have no time or turn for correspondence(!). But you also know, I hope, that I am not the less
Yours ever,
[Greek: MPAIRON].
[Footnote 1: "The Giaour" was reviewed in the "Monthly Review" for June, 1813 (N.S. vol. lxxi. p. 202). In the Editor"s copy is added in MS. at the end of the article, as indicating the author of the review, the word "Den."]
298.--To Francis Hodgson.
June 8th, 1813.
My dear Hodgson,--In town for a night I find your card. I had written to you at Cambridge merely to say that Murray has thought it expedient to publish "The Giaour" at his own risk (and reimburs.e.m.e.nt, if he can), and that, as it will probably be in your department in the "Monthly", I wished to state that, in the published copies, there are additions to the tune of 300 lines or so towards the end, and, if reviewed, it should _not_ be from the privately printed copy. So much for scribbling.
I shall manage to see you somewhere before I sail, which will be next month; till then I am yours here, and afterwards any where and every where,
Dear H., _tutto tuo_,
BN.
299.--To John Murray.
Je. 9, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I regret much that I have no profane garment to array you with for the masquerade. As my motions will be uncertain, you need not write nor send the proofs till my return.
Yours truly,
BN.
P.S.--My wardrobe is out of town--or I could have dressed you as an Albanian--or a Turk--or an officer--or a Waggoner.
300.--To John Murray.
June 12, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Having occasion to send a servant to London, I will thank you to inform me whether I left with the other things 3 miniatures in your care (--if not--I know where to find them), and also to "report progress" in unpacking the books? The bearer returns this evening.
How does Hobhouse"s work go on, or rather off--for that is the essential part? In yesterday"s paper, immediately under an advertis.e.m.e.nt on "Strictures in the Urethra," I see--most appropriately consequent--a poem with "_strictures_ on Ld B., Mr. Southey and others,"[1] though I am afraid neither "Mr. S."s" poetical distemper, nor "mine," nor "others," is of the suppressive or stranguary kind. You may read me the prescription of this kill or cure physician. The medicine is compounded at White and Cochrane"s, Fleet Street. As I have nothing else to do, I may enjoy it like Sir Fretful, or the Archbishop of Grenada, or any other personage in like predicament.
Recollect that my lacquey returns in the Evening, and that I set out for Portsmouth [2] to-morrow. All here are very well, and much pleased with your politeness and attention during their stay in town.
Believe me, yours truly,
B.
P.S.--Are there anything but books? If so, let those _extras_ remain untouched for the present. I trust you have not stumbled on any more "Aphrodites," and have burnt those. I send you both the advertis.e.m.e.nts, but don"t send me the first treatise--as I have no occasion for _Caustic_ in that quarter.