addressed a challenge to him, in turn; this was confided to his friend Hanson, and somehow never reached its destination.
There is another allusion to this ridiculous affair in a forgotten volume, which is worthy of record as the first novel of Theodore Hook This is entitled the Man of Sorrow, and it purports to be written by "Alfred Allendale." One of the portraits sketched in these volumes,—which, by the way, have been republished since the authors death,—is that of our poet, under the name of " Mr. Minus." Here occurs the following epigram, which may be thought the worthier of preservation here, as it has been attributed to one of the authors of Rejected Addresses:—
"When Anacreon would fight, as the poets have said,
A reverse he display'd in his vapour,
For while all his poems were loaded with lead,
His pistols were loaded with paper!
"For excuses, Anacreon old custom may thank,
Such a salvo he would not abuse,
For the cartridge, by rule, is always made blank
Which is fired away at Reviews."[1]
There is a necessary correspondence between the mechanical handiwork of man and the instruments by which it is produced. So also with the creations of the mind. Rousseau, we are told, was wont to write the amatory' billets between Julie and Saint-Preux, in what Burke terms his "famous work of philosophic gallantly," La Nouvelle Héloise, on scented note paper, with the finest of crow quills; and, with like fitness of means, Moore, we are told by his countryman, Mr. Percy Boyd, always wore a pair of kid gloves when he was writing, the ends of which he was wont to nibble in the throes of composition, till the tip of each finger was quite bitten through. These memorials were carefully preserved by his sister Ellen; and their possession was competed for with avidity by his lady friends.
It was at Mayfield Cottage, near Ashbourne, on the Staffordshire side of the river Dove, that Moore wrote Lalla Rookh, and spent some of the happiest years of his life. The whole neighbourhood, though not often alluded to in literature, is haunted land to the literary pilgrim. Within a mile or two is Wootton Hall, where Rousseau lived and botanized for years, and where he wrote his Confessions; a mile away, on the other side of the Dove, dwelt Michael Thomas Sadler; at Oakover, within a short walk, was the home of Ward, the author of Tremaine; two miles further up the river, a grotto is preserved in which Congreve wrote his first drama; hard by is the grand entrance to Dovedale, immortalized by old Isaak Walton; at Chatsworth, almost within sight, Hobbes, the philosopher of Malmesbury, smoked and thought; at Lissington lived Richard Graves, the author of the Spiritual Quixote, of whose fine head a pencil sketch by Wilkie is before me as I write; Mayfield Cottage has since been the residence of Alfred Butler, the novelist;[2] and lastly, Dr. Taylor, one of Dr. Johnson's most esteemed friends, was an inhabitant of Ashbourne, and there were recorded by Boswell some of the lexicographer's most amusing conversation and peculiarities.
After the splendid success of Lalla Rookh, Moore paid two visits to
- ↑ Life of Theodore Hook.
- ↑ Author of Elphinstone, The Herberts, etc.
