balance of power and the lawfulness of legitimacy, which puts Turgesius into a frenzy—­as Castlereagh’s would, if his audience was chained by the leg.  He draws a dagger and rushes at the orator; but, finding himself at the end of his tether, he sticks it into his own carcass, and dies, saying, he has fulfilled a prophecy.

“Now, this is serious downright matter of fact, and the gravest part of a tragedy which is not intended for burlesque.  I tell it you for the honour of Ireland.  The writer hopes it will be represented:—­but what is Hope? nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of Truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.  I am not sure that I have not said this last superfine reflection before.  But never mind;—­it will do for the tragedy of Turgesius, to which I can append it.

“Well, but how dost thou do? thou bard not of a thousand but three thousand!  I wish your friend, Sir John Piano-forte, had kept that to himself, and not made it public at the trial of the song-seller in Dublin.  I tell you why:  it is a liberal thing for Longman to do, and honourable for you to obtain; but it will set all the ’hungry and dinnerless, lank-jawed judges’ upon the fortunate author.  But they be d——­d!—­the ’Jeffrey and the Moore together are confident against the world in ink!’ By the way, if poor C * * e—­who is a man of wonderful talent, and in distress[86], and about to publish two vols. of Poesy and Biography, and who has been worse used by the critics than ever we were—­will you, if he comes out, promise me to review him favourably in the E.R.?  Praise him I think you must, but you will also praise him well,—­of all things the most difficult.  It will be the making of him.

“This must be a secret between you and me, as Jeffrey might not like such a project;—­nor, indeed, might C. himself like it.  But I do think he only wants a pioneer and a sparkle or two to explode most gloriously.  Ever yours most affectionately, B.

     “P.S.  This is a sad scribbler’s letter; but the next shall be ’more
     of this world.’”

[Footnote 86:  It is but justice both to “him that gave and him that took” to mention that the noble poet, at this time, with a delicacy which enhanced the kindness, advanced to the eminent person here spoken of, on the credit of some work he was about to produce, one hundred pounds.]

* * * * *

As, after this letter, there occur but few allusions to his connection with the Drury Lane Management, I shall here avail myself of the opportunity to give some extracts from his “Detached Thoughts,” containing recollections of his short acquaintance with the interior of the theatre.