provided for. Live and prosper--I wish so much to both. Live and
prosper--you have the means. I think but of my real kin and
kindred, who may be the victims of this accursed bubble.

"You neither know nor dream of the consequences of this war. It is
a war of _men_ with monarchs, and will spread like a spark on the
dry, rank grass of the vegetable desert. What it is with you and
your English, you do not know, for ye sleep. What it is with us
here, I know, for it is before, and around, and within us.

"Judge of my detestation of England and of all that it inherits,
when I avoid returning to your country at a time when not only my
pecuniary interests, but, it may be, even my personal security,
require it. I can say no more, for all letters are opened. A short
time will decide upon what is to be done here, and then you will
learn it without being more troubled with me or my correspondence.
Whatever happens, an individual is little, so the cause is
forwarded.

"I have no more to say to you on the score of affairs, or on any
other subject."

* * * * *

The second enclosure in the note consisted of some verses, written by
him, December 10th, 1820, on seeing the following paragraph in a
newspaper:--"Lady Byron is this year the lady patroness at the annual
Charity Ball given at the Town Hall at Hinckley, Leicestershire, and Sir
G. Crewe, Bart, the principal steward." These verses are full of strong
and indignant feeling,--every stanza concluding pointedly with the words
"Charity Ball,"--and the thought that predominates through the whole may
be collected from a few of the opening lines:--

"What matter the pangs of a husband and father,
If his sorrows in exile be great or be small,
So the Pharisee's glories around her she gather,
And the Saint patronises her 'Charity Ball.'

"What matters--a heart, which though faulty was feeling,
Be driven to excesses which once could appal--
That the Sinner should suffer is only fair dealing,
As the Saint keeps her charity back for 'the Ball,'" &c. &c.

* * * * *

LETTER 460. TO MR. MOORE.

"September--no--October 1. 1821.

"I have written to you lately, both in prose and verse, at great
length, to Paris and London. I presume that Mrs. Moore, or whoever
is your Paris deputy,