“On the land side of the embankment, not far from the smaller fort, was a boundary stone which probably marked some division of property,—­all the side of the island nearest the Lagune being divided into gardens for the cultivation of vegetables for the Venetian markets.  At the foot of this stone Lord Byron repeatedly told me that I should cause him to be interred, if he should die in Venice, or its neighbourhood, during my residence there; and he appeared to think, as he was not a Catholic, that, on the part of the government, there could be no obstacle to his interment in an unhallowed spot of ground by the sea-side.  At all events, I was to overcome whatever difficulties might be raised on this account.  I was, by no means, he repeatedly told me, to allow his body to be removed to England, nor permit any of his family to interfere with his funeral.

“Nothing could be more delightful than these rides on the Lido were to me.  We were from half to three quarters of an hour crossing the water, during which his conversation was always most amusing and interesting.  Sometimes he would bring with him any new book he had received, and read to me the passages which most struck him.  Often he would repeat to me whole stanzas of the poems he was engaged in writing, as he had composed them on the preceding evening; and this was the more interesting to me, because I could frequently trace in them some idea which he had started in our conversation of the preceding day, or some remark, the effect of which he had been evidently trying upon me.  Occasionally, too, he spoke of his own affairs, making me repeat all I had heard with regard to him, and desiring that I would not spare him, but let him know the worst that was said.”

* * * * *

LETTER 308.  TO MR. MURRAY.

     “Venice, Feb. 20. 1818.

“I have to thank Mr. Croker for the arrival, and you for the contents, of the parcel which came last week, much quicker than any before, owing to Mr. Croker’s kind attention and the official exterior of the bags; and all safe, except much friction amongst the magnesia, of which only two bottles came entire; but it is all very well, and I am exceedingly obliged to you.

“The books I have read, or rather am reading.  Pray, who may be the Sexagenarian, whose gossip is very amusing?  Many of his sketches I recognise, particularly Gifford, Mackintosh, Drummond, Dutens, H. Walpole, Mrs. Inchbald, Opie, &c., with the Scotts, Loughborough, and most of the divines and lawyers, besides a few shorter hints of authors, and a few lines about a certain ‘noble author,’ characterised as malignant and sceptical, according to the good old story, ’as it was in the beginning, is now, but not always shall be:’  do you know such a person, Master Murray? eh?—­And pray, of the booksellers, which be you? the dry, the dirty, the honest, the opulent,