"Murray has sent me the Quarterly and the Edinburgh. When I tell you that Walter Scott is the author of the article in the former, you will agree with me that such an article is still more honourable to him than to myself. I am perfectly pleased with Jeffrey's also, which I wish you to tell him, with my remembrances--not that I suppose it is of any consequence to him, or ever could have been, whether I am pleased or not, but simply in my private relation to him, as his well-wisher, and it may be one day as his acquaintance. I wish you would also add, what you know, that I was not, and, indeed, am not even now, the misanthropical and gloomy gentleman he takes me for, but a facetious companion, well to do with those with whom I am intimate, and as loquacious and laughing as if I were a much cleverer fellow. "I suppose now I shall never be able to shake off my sables in public imagination, more particularly since my moral * * clove down my fame. However, nor that, nor more than that, has yet extinguished my spirit, which always rises with the rebound. "At Venice we are in Lent, and I have not lately moved out of doors, my feverishness requiring quiet, and--by way of being more quiet--here is the Signora Marianna just come in and seated at my elbow. "Have you seen * * *'s book of poesy? and, if you have seen it, are you not delighted with it? And have you--I really cannot go on: there is a pair of great black eyes looking over my shoulder, like the angel leaning over St. Matthew's, in the old frontispieces to the Evangelists,--so that I must turn and answer them instead of you. "Ever," &c. * * * * * LETTER 267. TO MR. MOORE. "Venice, March 25. 1817. "I have at last learned, in default of your own writing (or _not_ writing--which should it be? for I am not very clear as to the application of the word _default_) from Murray, two particulars of (or belonging to) you; one, that you are removing to Hornsey, which is, I presume, to be nearer London; and the other, that your Poem is announced by the name of Lalla Rookh. I am glad of it,--first, that we are to have it at last, and next, I like a tough title myself--witness The Giaour and Childe Harold, which choked half the Blues at starting. Besides, it is the tail of Alcibiades's dog,--not that I suppose you want either dog or tail. Talking of tail, I wish you had not called it a '_Persian Tale_'[130] Say a 'Poem' or 'Romance,' but not 'Tale.' I am very sorry that I called some of my own things 'Tales,' because I think that they are something better. Besides, we have had Arabian, and Hindoo, and Turkish, and Assyrian Tales. But, after all, this is frivolous in me; you won't, however, mind my nonsense.