Page:Life of Edmond Malone.djvu/300

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LIFE OF EDMOND MALONE.

The Malones urge my stay—but listen to my reasons for not protracting it as much as they wish. I dine to-day with Lord Sunderlin. The ladies put me down at night on their way to Lady Clonmell’s.

It was my intention (May 6) to write daily to you, but was prevented by a visitor, who occupied the only time I had left. I dined yesterday at Lord Sunderlin’s; Luttrell and Courtenay were of the party—but the irreconcileable differences between their notions on politics, morals, taste, &c, and those of Mr. M., rather dullified the day, though not altogether.

In the midst of much discomfort, he gained patience to endure it by contrasting with his own the afflictions of his friend Mr. R. M. Jephson, settled at Gibraltar, from whom accounts were at this time received. His situation was indeed deplorable. Pestilence in the form of fever had visited that fortress and made hideous ravages in every class of the population. His wife, child, brother, and many intimate associates perished in what he calls “this charnell house.” Even a dear friend (chief medical officer of

    tional powers, rather than a literary man. Moore consulted him about destroying Byron’s autobiography. . . . . I may mention that he had a bad temper: so had Rogers; and they were ever and anon falling out. On one occasion I was the innocent cause of a dreadful quarrel, during which they used such language to each other as none could have expected from the lips of two men who had associated not only with the highest nobility, but with kings and queens.”

    In Rogers’ Table Talk, Mr. Dyce quotes the old poet on the literary qualifications of this gentleman. “What a pity it is,” said he, “that Luttrell gives up nearly his whole time to persons of mere fashion! Everything that he has written is very clever. Are you acquainted with his epigram on Miss Tree (Mrs. Bradshaw)? It is quite a little fairy tale:—

    “‘On this Tree when a Nightingale settles and sings,
    The Tree will return her as good as she brings.’

    Luttrell is indeed a most pleasant companion. None of the talkers whom I meet in London society can slide in a brilliant thing with such readiness as he does.”—p. 280, third edition.