“I send you the errata in the “Prometheus,” some changes Mr. Shelley wished made in the “Adonais,” and a suppressed stanza of “Hellas.” I am tempted to offer to write a brief outline of Mr. Shelley’s life, if Galignani chooses; but then my secret must be kept religiously, and no alterations made. It would be very short; and its chief merit, the absence of incorrectness.
“I have now some hopes of the portrait. The lady who painted it is in town, and will meet Mr. Davis, and offer her suggestions to-morrow; but I would give the world to have it engraved here, where any defect in the drawing might be corrected, and we could superintend the whole. At any rate it will be better than a likeness after the imagination of a Frenchman—that is the drollest, stupidest idea, ever man intent on selling an edition hit upon.
“P.S. The drawing is getting better and better. Pray keep them to their promise of letting me have it. I shall feel highly gratified. As it is now finished, and at my house, perhaps you will call as soon after twelve as you can.”
