LORD  BYRON  and  his  TIMES
Documents Biography Criticism

Memoir of John Murray
John Murray to Lord Byron, 7 September 1812

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. XXIX.
Chap. XXX.
Chap. XXXI.
Chap. XXXII.
Chap. XXXIV.
Chap. XXXV.
Chap. XXXVI.
Creative Commons License

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Produced by CATH
September 7th, 1812.
My Lord,

By the mail I have sent two letters, two parcels, and two Reviews. Mr. Ridgway assures me that it is impossible to complete a copy of the new edition of ‘Adair on Diet’ before to-morrow or the day following.

The tardy engraver promises the portrait in ten days, and I shall do myself the pleasure of sending a copy, for your Lordship’s remarks, before it is prefixed to the poem, the demand for which proceeds with undiminished vigour. I have now sold, within a few copies, 4500 in less than six months, a sale so unprecedented, except in one instance, that you should cease to reproach the public and the publisher for “tardy editions.” You will readily believe that I am delighted to find you thinking of a new poem, for which I should be proud to give a thousand guineas, and I should ever gratefully remember the fame it would cast over my new establishment, upon which I enter at the close of the present month.

Since I had the pleasure of seeing you I have had occasion to visit Lucien Bonaparte, to make arrangements for his poem, which, with the translation, will form two volumes in quarto, and which I am to publish immediately if his brother will permit its circulation on the Continent. Lucien is commanding and interesting in his person and address.

Walter Scott has, I am informed by his intimate friend Mr. Heber, retained very closely the subject of his new poem, which is, perhaps, not impolitic. The name of
‘Rokeby’ is that of his friend
Mr. Morritt’s estate in Yorkshire, to whom it is no doubt intended as a compliment. The poem, as the publisher informs me, will not be published before Christmas.

Indeed, my Lord, I hope that you will cut the tugging strings of care, and allow your mind to soar into its congenial element of poesy.
“From a delirious earth avert thine eyes
And dry thy fruitless tears, and seek fictitious skies.”
You will easily conceive my contempt for anything in the
Anti-Jacobin Review, when I venture to send you their vituperative criticism without previous notice. I am ashamed to see how long I may have trespassed upon your patience.

I am ever, &c.,
John Murray.