“Nobody hates bustle so much as I do; but there seems a fatality over every scene of my drama, always a row of some sort or other.  No matter—­Fortune is my best friend; and as I acknowledge my obligations to her, I hope she will treat me better than she treated the Athenian, who took some merit to himself on some occasion, but (after that) took no more towns.  In fact, she, that exquisite goddess, has hitherto carried me through every thing, and will I hope, now; since I own it will be all her doing.

“Well, now, for thee.  Your article on * * is perfection itself.  You must not leave off reviewing.  By Jove, I believe you can do any thing.  There is wit, and taste, and learning, and good humour (though not a whit less severe for that), in every line of that critique.

“Next to your being an E. Reviewer, my being of the same kidney, and Jeffrey’s being such a friend to both, are amongst the events which I conceive were not calculated upon in Mr.—­what’s his name?’s—­’Essay on Probabilities.’

“But, Tom, I say—­Oons!  Scott menaces the ’Lord of the Isles.”  Do you mean to compete? or lay by, till this wave has broke upon the shelves? (of booksellers, not rocks—­a broken metaphor, by the way.) You ought to be afraid of nobody; but your modesty is really as provoking and unnecessary as a * ’s.  I am very merry, and have just been writing some elegiac stanzas on the death of Sir P. Parker.  He was my first cousin, but never met since boyhood.  Our relations desired me, and I have scribbled and given it to Perry, who will chronicle it to-morrow.  I am as sorry for him as one could be for one I never saw since I was a child; but should not have wept melodiously, except ‘at the request of friends.’

     “I hope to get out of town and be married, but I shall take
     Newstead in my way; and you must meet me at Nottingham and
     accompany me to mine Abbey.  I will tell you the day when I know it.

     “Ever,” &c.

“P.S.  By the way my wife elect is perfection, and I hear of nothing but her merits and her wonders, and that she is ‘very pretty.’  Her expectations, I am told, are great; but what, I have not asked.  I have not seen her these ten months.”

* * * * *

LETTER 204.  TO MR. MOORE.

     “October 14. 1814.

“An’ there were any thing in marriage that would make a difference between my friends and me, particularly in your case, I would ’none on’t.’  My agent sets off for Durham next week, and I shall follow him, taking Newstead and you in my way.  I certainly did not address Miss Milbanke with these views, but it is likely she may prove a considerable