Speaking of the multitude of strangers, whose visits of curiosity or impertinence he was harassed by for some years after he came abroad, particularly at Venice, he said: Who would wish to make a show"bear of himself, and dance to any tune 66 any fool likes to play? Madame de "Staël said, I think of Goethe, that 66 people who did not wish to be judged by what they said, did not deserve that "I can't but say it is an awkward sight, "The growing waters-it unmans one quite."- Don Juan, Canto II. Stanza 12. "Self-exiled Harold wanders forth again, "With nought of hope left." Childe Harold, Canto III. Stanza 16. F "the world should trouble itself about "what they thought. She had herself 66 66 a most unconscionable insatiability of talking and shining. If she had talked less, it would have given her time to "have written more, and would have "been better. For my part, it is indif"ferent to me what the world says or "thinks of me. Let them know me in 66 my books. My conversation is never "brilliant. "Americans are the only people to "whom I never refused to shew myself. 66 66 The Yankees are great friends of mine. I wish to be well thought of on the "other side of the Atlantic; not that I 66 66 am better appreciated there, than on this; perhaps worse. Some American "Reviewer has been persevering in his "abuse and personality, but he should “have minded his ledger; he never ex 66 66 66 cited my spleen.* I was confirmed in my resolution of shutting my door against all the travelling English by the impertinence of an anonymous scrib *The taste and critical acumen of the American magazine will appear from the following extract: "The verses (it is of The Prisoner of Chillon' "that it speaks) are in the eight syllable mea66 sure, and occasionally display some pretty 66 66 66 poetry; at all events, there is little in them to offend. "We do not find any passage of sufficient beauty or originality to warrant extract.' Am. Critical Review, 1817. "bler, who said he might have known me, "but would not." 66 "I I interrupted him by telling him he need not have been so angry on that occasion, that it was an authoress who had been guilty of that remark. don't wonder," added I, that a spinster should have avoided associating with so dangerous an acquaintance as you had the character of being at Venice." "Well, I did not know that these "Sketches of Italy' were the produc"tion of a woman; but whether it was 66 66 a Mr., Mrs., or Miss, the remark was equally uncalled for. To be sure, the "life I led at Venice was not the most "saintlike in the world." Yes," said I, 66 if you were to be canonized, it must be as San Ciappelletto." "Not so bad as that either," said he somewhat seriously. 66 Venice," resumed he, "is a melan"choly place to reside in:-to see a city "die daily as she does, is a sad contem"plation. I sought to distract my mind "from a sense of her desolation, and my 66 own solitude, by plunging into a vortex "that was any thing but pleasure. When 66 66 one gets into a mill-stream, it is difficult to swim against it, and keep out of the wheels. The consequences of being carried down by it would furnish an ex"cellent lesson for youth. You are too "old to profit by it. But, who ever pro |
