* * * * *

LETTER 103.  TO LORD HOLLAND.

     “September 29. 1812.

“Shakspeare certainly ceased to reign in one of his kingdoms, as George III. did in America, and George IV. may in Ireland.[53] Now, we have nothing to do out of our own realms, and when the monarchy was gone, his majesty had but a barren sceptre.  I have cut away, you will see, and altered, but make it what you please; only I do implore, for my own gratification, one lash on those accursed quadrupeds—­’a long shot, Sir Lucius, if you love me.’  I have altered ‘wave,’ &c., and the ‘fire,’ and so forth for the timid.

     “Let me hear from you when convenient, and believe me, &c.

     “P.S.—­Do let that stand, and cut out elsewhere.  I shall choke,
     if we must overlook their d——­d menagerie.”

[Footnote 53:  Some objection, it appears from this, had been made to the passage, “and Shakspeare ceased to reign.”]

* * * * *

LETTER 105.  TO LORD HOLLAND.

        “Far be from him that hour which asks in vain
        Tears such as flow for Garrick in his strain;

     or,

        “Far be that hour that vainly asks in turn
                              {_crown’d his_}
        Such verse for him as { wept o’er } Garrick’s urn.

     “September 30. 1812.

     “Will you choose between these added to the lines on Sheridan?[54]
     I think they will wind up the panegyric, and agree with the train
     of thought preceding them.

“Now, one word as to the Committee—­how could they resolve on a rough copy of an Address never sent in, unless you had been good enough to retain in memory, or on paper, the thing they have been good enough to adopt?  By the by, the circumstances of the case should make the Committee less ‘avidus glorias,’ for all praise of them would look plaguy suspicious.  If necessary to be stated at all, the simple facts bear them out.  They surely had a right to act as they pleased.  My sole object is one which, I trust, my whole conduct has shown; viz. that I did nothing insidious—­sent in no Address whatever—­but, when applied to, did my best for them and myself; but, above all, that there was no undue partiality, which will be what the rejected will endeavour to make out.  Fortunately—­most fortunately—­I sent in no lines on the occasion.  For I am sure that had they, in that case, been preferred, it would have been asserted that I was known, and owed the preference to private friendship.  This is what we shall probably have to encounter; but, if once spoken and approved, we sha’n’t be much embarrassed by their brilliant conjectures; and, as to criticism, an old author, like