I shall now give the few letters in my possession written by him at this time, and then subjoin to them such anecdotes as I have been able to collect relative to the same period.

[Footnote 103:  Dated April 16.]

[Footnote 104:  It will be seen, from a subsequent letter, that the first stanza of that most cordial of Farewells, “My boat is on the shore,” was also written at this time.]

[Footnote 105:  In one of his letters to Mr. Hunt, he declares it to be his own opinion that “an addiction to poetry is very generally the result of ‘an uneasy mind in an uneasy body;’ disease or deformity,” he adds, “have been the attendants of many of our best.  Collins mad—­Chatterton, I think, mad—­Cowper mad—­Pope crooked—­Milton blind,” &c. &c.]

[Footnote 106:  The Deformed Transformed.]

[Footnote 107:  Childe Harold, Canto iii. stanza 17.]

* * * * *

LETTER 242.  TO MR. MURRAY.

     “Ouchy, near Lausanne, June 27. 1816.

“I am thus far (kept by stress of weather) on my way back to Diodati (near Geneva) from a voyage in my boat round the Lake; and I enclose you a sprig of Gibbons acacia and some rose-leaves from his garden, which, with part of his house, I have just seen.  You will find honourable mention, in his Life, made of this ‘acacia,’ when he walked out on the night of concluding his history.  The garden and summer-house, where he composed, are neglected, and the last utterly decayed; but they still show it as his ‘cabinet,’ and seem perfectly aware of his memory.

     “My route, through Flanders, and by the Rhine, to Switzerland, was
     all I expected, and more.

“I have traversed all Rousseau’s ground with the Heloise before me, and am struck to a degree that I cannot express with the force and accuracy of his descriptions and the beauty of their reality.  Meillerie, Clarens, and Vevay, and the Chateau de Chillon, are places of which I shall say little, because all I could say must fall short of the impressions they stamp.

“Three days ago, we were most nearly wrecked in a squall off Meillerie, and driven to shore.  I ran no risk, being so near the rocks, and a good swimmer; but our party were wet, and incommoded a good deal.  The wind was strong enough to blow down some trees, as we found at landing:  however, all is righted and right, and we are thus far on our return.

     “Dr. Polidori is not here, but at Diodati, left behind in hospital
     with a sprained ankle, which he acquired in tumbling from a
     wall—­he can’t jump.

     “I shall be glad to hear you are well, and have received for me
     certain helms and swords, sent from Waterloo, which I rode over
     with pain and pleasure.