[Footnote 78:
“A Persian’s Heav’n
is easily made—
’Tis but black eyes
and lemonade.”
]
* * * * *
LETTER 134. TO MR. MOORE.
“August 28. 1813.
“Ay, my dear Moore, ’there was a time’—I have heard of your tricks, when ‘you was campaigning at the King of Bohemy.’ I am much mistaken if, some fine London spring, about the year 1815, that time does not come again. After all, we must end in marriage; and I can conceive nothing more delightful than such a state in the country, reading the county newspaper, &c., and kissing one’s wife’s maid. Seriously, I would incorporate with any woman of decent demeanour to-morrow—that is, I would a month ago, but, at present, * * *
“Why don’t you ’parody that Ode?’[79]—Do you think I should be tetchy? or have you done it, and won’t tell me?—You are quite right about Giamschid, and I have reduced it to a dissyllable within this half hour.[80] I am glad to hear you talk of Richardson, because it tells me what you won’t—that you are going to beat Lucien. At least tell me how far you have proceeded. Do you think me less interested about your works, or less sincere than our friend Ruggiero? I am not—and never was. In that thing of mine, the ‘English Bards,’ at the time when I was angry with all the world, I never ‘disparaged your parts,’ although I did not know you personally;—and have always regretted that you don’t give us an entire work, and not sprinkle yourself in detached pieces—beautiful, I allow, and quite alone in our language[81], but still giving us a right to expect a Shah Nameh (is that the name?) as well as gazels. Stick to the East;—the oracle, Stael, told me it was the only poetical policy. The North, South, and West, have all been exhausted; but from the East, we have nothing but S * ’s unsaleables,—and these he has contrived to spoil, by adopting only their most outrageous fictions. His personages don’t interest us, and yours will. You will have no competitor; and, if you had, you ought to be glad of it. The little I have done in that way is merely a ‘voice in the wilderness’ for you; and if it has had any success, that also will prove that the public are orientalising, and pave the path for you.
“I have been thinking of a story, grafted on the amours of a Peri and a mortal—something like, only more _philanthropical_ than, Cazotte’s Diable Amoureux. It would require a good deal of poesy, and tenderness is not my forte. For that, and other reasons, I have given up the idea, and merely suggest it to you, because, in intervals of your greater work, I think it a subject you might make much of.[82] If you want any more books, there is ’Castellan’s Moeurs des Ottomans,’ the best compendium of the kind I ever met with, in six small tomes. I am really taking a liberty by talking in this style to my ’elders and my betters;’—pardon it, and don’t _Rochefoucault_ my motives.”
[Footnote 79: The Ode of Horace,