but evidently the composition of some one in the habit of writing, and of writing well.  I do not know if he be the author of the ‘Bioscope’ which accompanied them; but whoever he is, if you can discover him, thank him from me most heartily.  The other letters were from ladies, who are welcome to convert me when they please; and if I can discover them, and they be young, as they say they are, I could convince them perhaps of my devotion.  I had also a letter from Mr. Walpole on matters of this world, which I have answered.

“So you are Lucien’s publisher?  I am promised an interview with him, and think I shall ask you for a letter of introduction, as ‘the gods have made him poetical.’  From whom could it come with a better grace than from his publisher and mine?  Is it not somewhat treasonable in you to have to do with a relative of the ’direful foe,’ as the Morning Post calls his brother?

“But my book on ‘Diet and Regimen,’ where is it?  I thirst for Scott’s Rokeby; let me have your first-begotten copy.  The Anti-jacobin Review is all very well, and not a bit worse than the Quarterly, and at least less harmless.  By the by, have you secured my books?  I want all the Reviews, at least the critiques, quarterly, monthly, &c., Portuguese and English, extracted, and bound up in one volume for my old age; and pray, sort my Romaic books, and get the volumes lent to Mr. Hobhouse—­he has had them now a long time.  If any thing occurs, you will favour me with a line, and in winter we shall be nearer neighbours.

“P.S.—­I was applied to, to write the Address for Drury Lane, but the moment I heard of the contest, I gave up the idea of contending against all Grub Street, and threw a few thoughts on the subject into the fire.  I did this out of respect to you, being sure you would have turned off any of your authors who had entered the lists with such scurvy competitors.  To triumph would have been no glory; and to have been defeated—­’sdeath!—­I would have choked myself, like Otway, with a quartern loaf; so, remember I had, and have, nothing to do with it, upon my honour.”

* * * * *

LETTER 109.  TO MR. WILLIAM BANKES.

     “Cheltenham, September 28. 1812.

     “My dear Bankes,

“When you point out to one how people can be intimate at the distance of some seventy leagues, I will plead guilty to your charge, and accept your farewell, but not wittingly, till you give me some better reason than my silence, which merely proceeded from a notion founded on your own declaration of old, that you hated writing and receiving letters.  Besides, how was I to find out a man of many residences?  If I had addressed you now, it had been to your borough, where I must have conjectured you were amongst your constituents.  So now, in despite