A Publisher And His Friends (Fiscle Part-4) by Samuel Smiles (the top 100 crime novels of all time txt) ๐
- Author: Samuel Smiles
Book online ยซA Publisher And His Friends (Fiscle Part-4) by Samuel Smiles (the top 100 crime novels of all time txt) ๐ยป. Author Samuel Smiles
Ugo Foscolo, Who Was Eccentric To An Excess, And Very Extravagant, Had
Many Attached Friends, Though He Tried Them Sorely. To Mr. Murray He
Became One Of The Troubles Of Private As Well As Publishing Life. He Had
A Mania For Building, And A Mania For Ornamentation, But He Was Very
Short Of Money For Carrying Out His Freaks. He Thought Himself At The
Same Time To Be Perfectly Moderate, Simple, And Sweet-Tempered. He Took
A House In South Bank, Regent's Park, Which He Named Digamma
Cottage--From His Having Contributed To The _Quarterly Review_ An
Article On The Digamma--And Fitted It Up In Extravagant Style.
Foscolo Could Scarcely Live At Peace With Anybody, And, As The Result Of
One Of His Numerous Altercations, He Had To Fight A Duel. "We Are," Lady
Dacre Wrote To Murray (December 1823), "To Have The Whole Of Foscolo's
Duel To-Morrow. He Tells Me That It Is Not About A 'Fair Lady': Thank
Heaven!"
Foscolo Was One Of Mr. Murray's Inveterate Correspondents--About
Lectures, About Translations, About Buildings, About Debts, About Loans,
And About Borrowings. On One Occasion Mr. Murray Received From Him A
Letter Of Thirteen Pages Quarto. A Few Sentences Of This May Be Worth
Quoting:
_Mr. Foscolo To John Murray_.
South Bank, _August_ 20, 1822.
"During Six Years (For I Landed In England The 10th September, 1816) I
Have Constantly Laboured Under Difficulties The Most Distressing; No One
Knows Them So Well As Yourself, Because No One Came To My Assistance
With So Warm A Friendship Or With Cares So Constant And Delicate. My
Difficulties Have Become More Perplexing Since The Government Both Of
The Ionian Islands And Italy Have Precluded Even The Possibility Of My
Returning To The Countries Where A Slender Income Would Be Sufficient,
And Where I Would Not Be Under The Necessity Of Making A Degrading Use
Of My Faculties. I Was Born A Racehorse; And After Near Forty Years Of
Successful Racing, I Am Now Drawing The Waggon--Nay, To Be The Teacher
Of French To My Copyists, And The Critic Of English To My
Translators!-To Write Sophistry About Criticism, Which I Always
Considered A Sort Of Literary Quackery, And To Put Together Paltry
Articles For Works Which I Never Read. Indeed, If I Have Not Undergone
The Doom Of Almost All Individuals Whose Situation Becomes Suddenly
Opposed To Their Feelings And Habits, And If I Am Not Yet A Lunatic, I
Must Thank The Mechanical Strength Of My Nerves. My Nerves, However
Chapter 22 ( Washington Irving--Ugo Foscolo--Lady Caroline Lamb--"Hajji Baba"--Mrs. Markham's Histories.) Pg 49Will Not Withstand The Threatenings Of Shame Which I Have Always
Contemplated With Terror. Time And Fortune Have Taught Me To Meet All
Other Evils With Fortitude; But I Grow Every Day More And More A Coward
At The Idea Of The Approach Of A Stigma On My Character; And As Now I
Must Live And Die In England, And Get The Greater Part Of My Subsistence
From My Labour, I Ought To Reconcile, If Not Labour With Literary
Reputation, At Least Labour And Life With A Spotless Name."
He Then Goes On To State That His Debts Amount To L600 Or Thereabouts,
Including A Sum Of L20 Which He Owed To Mr. Murray Himself. Then He Must
Have The Money Necessary For His Subsistence, And He "Finds He Cannot
Live On Less Than L400 Per Annum."
"My Apartments," He Continues, "Decently Furnished, Encompass Me With An
Atmosphere Of Ease And Respectability; And I Enjoy The Illusion Of Not
Having Fallen Into The Lowest Circumstances.
I Always Declare That I Will Die Like A Gentleman, On A Decent Bed,
Surrounded By Casts (As I Cannot Buy The Marbles) Of The Venuses, Of The
Apollos, And Of The Graces, And The Busts Of Great Men; Nay, Even Among
Flowers, And, If Possible, With Some Graceful Innocent Girl Playing An
Old Pianoforte In An Adjoining Room. And Thus Dies The Hero Of My Novel.
Far From Courting The Sympathy Of Mankind, I Would Rather Be Forgotten
By Posterity Than Give It The Gratification Of Ejaculating Preposterous
Sighs Because I Died Like Camoens And Tasso On The Bed Of An Hospital.
And Since I Must Be Buried In Your Country, I Am Happy In Having Insured
For Me The Possession During The Remains Of My Life Of A Cottage Built
After My Plan, Surrounded By Flowering Shrubs, Almost Within The
Tumpikes Of The Town, And Yet As Quiet As A Country-House, And Open To
The Free Air. Whenever I Can Freely Dispose Of A Hundred Pounds, I Will
Also Build A Small Dwelling For My Corpse, Under A Beautiful Oriental
Plane-Tree, Which I Mean To Plant Next November, And Cultivate _Con
Amore_. So Far I Am Indeed An Epicure; In All Other Things I Am The Most
Moderate Of Men."
The Upshot Of The Letter Is, That He Wishes Mr. Murray To Let Him Have
L1,000, To Be Repaid In Five Years, He Meanwhile Writing Articles For
The _Quarterly_--One-Half Of The Payment To Be Left With The Publisher,
And The Remaining Half To Be Added To His Personal Income. He Concludes:
"In Seeking Out A Way Of Salvation, I Think It Incumbent On Me To
Prevent The Tyranny Of Necessity, That I Might Not Be Compelled By It To
Endanger My Character And The Interest Of A Friend Whose Kindness I Have
Always Experienced, And Whose Assistance I Am Once More Obliged To
Chapter 22 ( Washington Irving--Ugo Foscolo--Lady Caroline Lamb--"Hajji Baba"--Mrs. Markham's Histories.) Pg 50Solicit."
Mr. Murray Paid Off Some Of His More Pressing Embarrassments--L30 To
Messrs. Bentley For Bills Not Taken Up; L33 7_S_. To Mr. Kelly The
Printer; L14 To Mr. Antonini; And L50 To Foscolo's Builder--Besides
Becoming Security For L300 To His Bankers (With Whom Foscolo Did
Business), In Order To Ensure Him A Respite For Six Months. On The Other
Hand, Foscolo Agreed To Insure His Life For L600 As A Sort Of Guarantee.
"Was Ever" Impecunious Author "So Trusted Before"? At This Crisis In His
Affairs Many Friends Came About Him And Took An Interest In The Patriot;
Mr. Hallam And Mr. Wilbraham Offered Him Money, But He Would Not Accept
"Gratuities" From Them, Though He Had No Objection To Accepting Their
"Loans." Arrangements Were Then Made For Foscolo To Deliver A Series Of
Lectures On Italian Literature. Everything Was Settled, The Day
Arrived, The Room Was Crowded With A Distinguished Assembly, When At The
Last Moment Foscolo Appeared Without His Ms., Which He Had Forgotten.
The Course Of Lectures, However, Which Had Been Designed To Relieve Him
From The Pressure Of His Debts, Proved Successful, And Brought Him In,
It Is Said, As Much As L1,000; Whereupon He Immediately Set To Work To
Squander His Earnings By Giving A Public Breakfast To His Patrons, For
Which Purpose He Thought It Incumbent On Him, Amongst Other Expenses, To
Make A New Approach And A Gravelled Carriage Road To Digamma Cottage.
Ugo Foscolo Lived On Credit To The End Of His Life, Surrounded By All
That Was Luxurious And Beautiful. How He Contrived It, No One Knew, For
His Resources Remained At The Lowest Ebb. Perhaps His Friends Helped
Him, For English Liberals Of Good Means Regarded Him As A Martyr In The
Cause Of Freedom, One Who Would Never Bow The Knee To Baal, And Who Had
Dared The First Napoleon When His Very Word Was Law. But Foscolo's
Friends Without Doubt Became Tired Of His Extravagance And His
Licentious Habits, And Fell Away From Him. Disease At Last Found Him
Out; He Died Of Dropsy At Turnham Green, Near Hammersmith, In 1827, When
Only In The Fiftieth Year Of His Age, And Was Buried In Chiswick
Churchyard; But In June 1871 His Body Was Exhumed And Conveyed To
Florence, Where He Was Buried In Santa Croce, Between The Tomb Of
Alfieri And The Monument Of Dante.
Lady Caroline Lamb Had Continued To Keep Up Her Intimacy With Mr.
Murray; And Now That She Was Preparing A New Work For The Press, Her
Correspondence Increased. While He Was At Wimbledon During Summer, She
Occasionally Met Literary Friends At His House. She Had Already
Published "Glenarvon," The Hero Of Which Was Supposed To Represent Lord
Byron, And Was Now Ready With "Penruddock." "I Am In Great Anxiety," She
Wrote To Mr. Murray, "About Your Not Informing Me What Gifford Says. I
Think It Might Be A Civil Way Of Giving Me My Death-Warrant--If
Chapter 22 ( Washington Irving--Ugo Foscolo--Lady Caroline Lamb--"Hajji Baba"--Mrs. Markham's Histories.) Pg 51'Penruddock' Does Not."
Whether The Criticism Of Mr. Gifford Was Too Severe, Or Whether Mr.
Murray Was So Much Engaged In Business And Correspondence As To Take No
Notice Of Lady Caroline Lamb's Communication, Does Not Appear; But She
Felt The Neglect, And Immediately Followed It Up With Another Letter As
Follows:
_Lady Caroline Lamb To John Murray_.
_December 8, 1822_.
My Dear And Most Obstinately Silent Sir,
From One Until Nine Upon Tuesday I Shall Be At Melbourne House Waiting
For You; But If You Wish To See The Prettiest Woman In England,--Besides
Myself And William--Be At Melbourne House At Quarter To Six, At Which
Hour We Dine; And If You Will Come At Half-Past One, Or Two, Or Three,
To Say You Will Dine And To Ask Me To Forgive Your Inexorable And
Inhuman Conduct, Pray Do, For I Arrive At Twelve In That Said Home And
Leave It At Nine The Ensuing Morning. What Can Have Happened To You That
You Will Not Write?
The Following Letter From William Lamb (Afterwards Lord Melbourne), The
Long-Suffering And Generous Husband Of This Wayward Lady, Refers To A
Novel Entitled "Ada Reis."
_The Honble. William Lamb To John Murray_.
_December 20, 1822_.
"The Incongruity Of, And Objections To, The Story Of 'Ada Reis' Can Only
Be Got Over By Power Of Writing, Beauty Of Sentiment, Striking And
Effective Situation, Etc. If Mr. Gifford Thinks There Is In The First
Two Volumes Anything Of Excellence Sufficient To Overbalance Their
Manifest Faults, I Still Hope That He Will Press Upon Lady Caroline The
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