rendered me so much,

My Lord, your obliged Servant,

J.M.

The negotiations for the purchase of the third canto were left in the
hands of Mr. Kinnaird, who demurred to Mr. Murray's first offer of 1,500
guineas, and eventually L2,000 was fixed as the purchase price.

Mr. Murray wrote to Lord Byron on December 13, 1816, informing him that,
at a dinner at the Albion Tavern, he had sold to the assembled
booksellers 7,000 of his third canto of "Childe Harold" and 7,000 of his
"Prisoner of Chillon." He then proceeds:

_John Murray to Lord Byron_.

"In literary affairs I have taken the field in great force--opening with
the Third Canto and "Chillon," and, following up my blow, I have since
published 'Tales of my Landlord,' another novel, I believe (but I really
don't know) by the author of 'Waverley'; but much superior to what has
already appeared, excepting the character of Meg Merrilies. Every one is
in ecstasy about it, and I would give a finger if I could send it you,
but this I will contrive. Conversations with your friend Buonaparte at
St. Helena, amusing, but scarce worth sending. Lord Holland has just put
forth a very improved edition of the Life of Lope de Vega and Inez de
Castro.' Gifford's 'Ben Jonson' has put to death all former editions,
and is very much liked."

At Mr. Murray's earnest request, Scott had consented to review the third
canto of "Childe Harold" in the _Quarterly_. In forwarding the MS. he
wrote as follows:

_Mr. Scott to John Murray_.

EDINBURGH, _January_ 10, 1817.

My Dear Sir,

I have this day sent under Croker's cover a review of Lord Byron's last
poems. You know how high I hold his poetical reputation, but besides,
one is naturally forced upon so many points of delicate consideration,
that really I have begun and left off several times, and after all send
the article to you with full power to cancel it if you think any part of
it has the least chance of hurting his feelings. You know him better
than I do, and you also know the public, and are aware that to make any
successful impression on them the critic must appear to speak with
perfect freedom. I trust I have not abused this discretion. I am sure I
have not meant to do so, and yet during Lord Byron's absence, and under
the present circumstances, I should feel more grieved than at anything
that ever befell me if there should have slipped from my pen anything
capable of giving him pain.

There are some things in the critique