tion of the drawings[80], &c. when I had the pleasure of
seeing you this morning. The fact is, that till this moment I had
not seen them, nor heard of their arrival: they were carried up
into the library, where I have not been till just now, and no
intimation given to me of their coming. The present is so very
magnificent, that--in short, I leave Lady Byron to thank you for it
herself, and merely send this to apologise for a piece of apparent
and unintentional neglect on my own part. Yours," &c.

[Footnote 80: Mr. Murray had presented Lady Byron with twelve drawings,
by Stothard, from Lord Byron's Poems.]

* * * * *

LETTER 222. TO MR. MOORE.[81]

"13. Piccadilly Terrace, June 12. 1815.

"I have nothing to offer in behalf of my late silence, except the
most inveterate and ineffable laziness; but I am too supine to
invent a lie, or I _certainly_ should, being ashamed of the truth.
K * *, I hope, has appeased your magnanimous indignation at his
blunders. I wished and wish you were in the Committee, with all my
heart.[82] It seems so hopeless a business, that the company of a
friend would be quite consoling,--but more of this when we meet.
In the mean time, you are entreated to prevail upon Mrs. Esterre to
engage herself. I believe she has been written to, but your
influence, in person or proxy, would probably go further than our
proposals. What they are, I know not; all _my_ new function
consists in listening to the despair of Cavendish Bradshaw, the
hopes of Kinnaird, the wishes of Lord Essex, the complaints of
Whitbread, and the calculations of Peter Moore,--all of which, and
whom, seem totally at variance. C. Bradshaw wants to light the
theatre with _gas_, which may, perhaps (if the vulgar be believed),
poison half the audience, and all the _dramatis personae_. Essex has
endeavoured to persuade K * * not to get drunk, the consequence of
which is, that he has never been sober since. Kinnaird, with equal
success, would have convinced Raymond, that he, the said Raymond,
had too much salary. Whitbread wants us to assess the pit another
sixpence,--a d----d insidious proposition,--which will end in an
O.P. combustion. To crown all, R * *, the auctioneer, has the
impudence to be displeased, because he has no dividend. The villain