“I return the proof, which I should wish to be shown to Mr. Dallas, who understands typographical arrangements much better than I can pretend to do.  The printer may place the notes in his own way, or any way so that they are out of my way; I care nothing about types or margins.

     “If you have any communication to make, I shall be here at least a
     week or ten days longer.

     “I am, Sir,” &c. &c.

[Footnote 26:  On a leaf of one of his paper-books I find an Epigram written at this time, which, though not perhaps particularly good, I consider myself bound to insert:—­

“ON MOORE’S LAST OPERATIC FARCE, OR FARCICAL OPERA.

      “Good plays are scarce,
      So Moore writes farce: 
    The poet’s fame grows brittle—­
      We knew before
      That Little’s Moore,
    But now ’tis Moore that’s little. 
                    Sept. 14. 1811.”
]

* * * * *

LETTER 68.  TO MR. DALLAS.

     “Newstead Abbey, Sept. 17. 1811.

“I can easily excuse your not writing, as you have, I hope, something better to do, and you must pardon my frequent invasions on your attention, because I have at this moment nothing to interpose between you and my epistles.

“I cannot settle to any thing, and my days pass, with the exception of bodily exercise to some extent, with uniform indolence, and idle insipidity.  I have been expecting, and still expect, my agent, when I shall have enough to occupy my reflections in business of no very pleasant aspect.  Before my journey to Rochdale, you shall have due notice where to address me—­I believe at the post-office of that township.  From Murray I received a second proof of the same pages, which I requested him to show you, that any thing which may have escaped my observation may be detected before the printer lays the corner-stone of an errata column.

“I am now not quite alone, having an old acquaintance and school-fellow with me, so old, indeed, that we have nothing new to say on any subject, and yawn at each other in a sort of quiet inquietude.  I hear nothing from Cawthorn, or Captain Hobhouse; and their quarto—­Lord have mercy on mankind!  We come on like Cerberus with our triple publications.  As for myself, by myself, I must be satisfied with a comparison to Janus.

“I am not at all pleased with Murray for showing the MS.; and I am certain Gifford must see it in the same light that I do.  His praise is nothing to the purpose:  what could he say?  He could not spit in the face of one who had praised him in every possible way.  I must own that I wish to have the impression removed from his mind, that I had any concern in such a paltry transaction.  The more I think,