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From the same :

"Rouen, May 10th, 1824.

"MY DEAR DOCTORIBUS,-I don't know whether your compliments on the flourishing state of my health were the signal for the devil to recommence his torments, for I was, after reading your epistle, seized with a slow, deliberate fit, which began by being nothing at all, and is now arrived in both knees, both feet, and an elbow, not to mention the fatal consequences produced by an ass-ride of seven hours in the sun, so that I can neither walk, stand, sit, nor lie down; and it requires no small share of genius to know how to proceed under so many untoward circumstances. Nothing can exceed the beauty of our climate just now, as they have put off May this year till July; but Craven, who writes from the banks of a little lake called Wallensee, near Munich, says there is a hard frost every evening, snow yet reaching down to the lake, even the elder not in flower, nor the apples yet in bloom; and all this, he says, two days after he had been eating oranges and cherries, and roasting himself in Italy! Oh, the delights of a German climate! He says neither peas nor salad yet exist at Munich, and that, in consequence of the change of atmosphere, he has got every sort of cough, cold, and consumption possible, and longs for a box of your celebrated Leake's patent pills. I scrambled all over this country on jackasses, while I was well, in a very agreeable We went in a party to somebody's overgrown feudal palace, which the people very kindly lent us, and Lady Mary Deerhurst became the hostess of the castle, while we passed our days in exploring the country.


"I have long ventured an opinion, that wherever there was an ancient town, some traces of its walls or buildings will be found, if any one would take the pains to search; but I only spoke of Greece, whereas now I think the same may be said of Italy; and I should not despair of finding out, in time, all the towns which Romulus and the Tarquins took. We have found in the Via Appia that, by turning three miles to the right at about eight miles from Rome, and making for the highest of the eminences toward the sea, there is an ancient city, the walls of which are quite perfect as far as two, three, four, or five courses all round. The stones are great square masses of tufa, and have all the appearance of an ancient Greek city; it is about half a mile round, and in the form of a parallelogram, or nearly so. It is quite singular that the Roman antiquaries always stick to the modern carriage-road, as if they had all the gout like me.

"The gout being in my elbow, I can not write any better, so you must excuse me. Craven saw Lady W- at Venice and enza, but she was so entirely taken up with Mr. Battier's case, and the decease of Lord Byron before he had time to reform, that she had little time left for Egypt, so means to take England on her way there, having first gone to the military governor for a courier, which she is sure is the only way to avoid being cheated. In short, she is to winter at Catania, on her way to Egypt, if she is not exhausted before that time by the double cases of Mr. Battier and Lord Byron. What

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fun she must have, and all unknown, as you say, to the inhabitants of Cheshire, in being able to agitate her nerves so much out of a newspaper. Speaking of which, I send you a Greek inscription, which some think sepulchral, and some a dedication. It is newly discovered, and you scholars may comment on it, and you and Sir William Drummond may make it out together. You will perceive that it is of a period when the Romans thought it right to affect Greek literature. The Greeks have begun to write to Dodwell and myself to assist them, as their maladetta revoluzione has left them nothing to live on abroad, and the total want of any government at home hinders them from staying there. They are Athenians who write, and are fled to Genoa. "WILLIAM Gell."

Letter of introduction of Dr. Quin from Sir W. Gell to Lady Manvers : "Naples, July 22d, 1824. My dear Lady MANVERS,—I send you in this letter Dr. Quin, the medical gentleman who came out with the poor Duchess of Devonshire, and who was with her at her death. He is going to England for a few months, and will give you all the news of Italy, and tell you that the new Torlonia house, at the Porte del Popolo, is finished, and that a pendant to it has started up on the other side, exactly similar. There will be no dancing this year, on account of the Anno Santo, so I don't know what your ladyship and I shall do to achieve our long engagement. Eating turkeys, however, is not yet forbidden, and, I dare say, we shall have all sorts of queer figures, and strange people of all countries, as pilgrims, to console us for the loss of our hops. I am very much improved in general health, and am delighted to hear that you are also much better. Your house at the Sentinella, at Ischia, is tenanted by the Duchess of Sagan, the great lady of Courland, who is cured of all her misfortunes, when she has any, by Dr. Quin's prescriptions.

"I think my expedition to Egypt is expiring, and shall hope to put in practice our plot for meeting at the Holy City. You will find Dr. Quin a very clever and agreeable person, and not one who sits still and says nothing, as a certain person did whom I once introduced to you.

"Truly and affectionately, my dear Lady Manvers, your slave and dog, "WILLIAM GELL."

From the same to Dr. Quin :

"Rome, 4th January, 1825.

"DOCTISSIME QUINIE,-The book about which you order me to write is in three volumes, and if Dr. Nott, Nell, or Noll be a friend of yours, you may lend it to him-only make him return it when he has finished his studies. I wish you would make Sir William Drummond send you back the volume of Cellarius, for fear he should forget it, which would ruin the whole work, and I have suffered so much from the lending of odd volumes, that I have a right to look sharp. I am quite delighted, as well as surprised, at the progress of

the illustrious Rocca* in arts and humanities, which pray tell him from me. We have lost, somehow or other, a certain number of pages of bad writingpaper, on which was written a part of a novel, about a family of the name of Tregannock. The author being at Rome, it was laid out in my house at Naples to be brought to him, but somehow mislaid, and never arrived, and being now wanting, we are distressed for it; there may be about twenty sheets of letter-paper, sewed together very ill, and perhaps doubled lengthways down the middle. It begins with the words, 'Well said, Mr. Nathaniel Randall Tregannock,' and that is all we can recollect of it; and if you can find this most precious MS. about the house, pray send it by Mr. Frederick Dundas, or any other traveler.

"So Mawbles is at the very pinnacle of glory, dealing out protection, dispensation, and plenary indulgence in the bosom of her admiring family. I hope my geraniums are not all dead of the frost at Naples, as they are all defunct, without confessing their sins, at the pressing instance of a hoar frost.

"You have now balls and routs enough, as I hear, to keep the world alive, and to swell the lists of Galen and Co. One does not desire that either an earthquake or an eruption should take place, but if it must, one wishes to be witness of it; and so, if the people will persevere in being ill, I wish they would at least have the good sense to fall into your hands. Senna and sirup of buckthorn are your fellows, for they have all overeaten themselves, and are overgorged.

"Don't imagine I neglect my Dr. Necker, whose poisoned sugar I take every five days with great success and the most innocent results. I am uncommonly well withal, and go out every day to dinner, without finding myself worse. Moreover, my pains seem diminishing gradually, and I waddle about with tolerable success. Last night I went to the Opera of the Princess Volkonsky, the Camilla' of Paer, in which she performed admirably, and, though ill supported by the rest of the company, succeeded, on the whole, very well, being the first Opera I have ever seen at a private theatre. Don't tell any one that I am not coming back to Naples soon, but you need not begin to fear for yourself till April. Believe me most truly yours, great descendant of Queen Quintiquiniestra, W. GELL."

From the same:

"Rome, Friday night.

"MY DEAR QUINIBUS,-I have written to the Drummonds some days ago, and sent them a silver medal of Lord Byron, therefore I have no right to dumpify. I have deluded my tyrant, the gout, for some time. If the Abbate Giustio calls, listen to all he has got to say about the library, which is to be sold, and let me know the result. Lord D says he would rather trust the negotiation to you than any body he knows, which is sensible of his lordship,

* A servant Sir William Gell had recommended to Dr. Quin.

is it not? Write soon, and then I will tell Mawbles that you are a good boy. God bless you, magnanimous Quin his Curtius, your sincere friend, "WILLIAM GELL."


"Though of all things, dear doctor, I know you know much,
I should never have dreamed you had studied Low Dutch,
Or supposed that the subjects your studies would choose
Was a large folio Jewish account of the Jews!

I know, my dear Quin, and we all of us know,

That Jewish accounts are on long folio:

And too well do I know for my dear money-bags,
That in Jewish accounts the interest ne'er flags.

But those great, thick, fat tomes about Aaron and Moses,
What connection on earth can they have with small doses?
Four close-printed volumes of folio pages,
Composed by the sagest of Israel's sages.
The story of those who sell second-hand togs,
Done into language of Dutchmen and frogs.
Oh, tell me, dear doctor! oh, tell me, are such
The books you most fancy in English or Dutch?
There must be some reason—
-I'm certain there is,
Why books such as these show their ugly phiz.
And, after reflection, I think I have hit on
The reason you bought them to carry to Britain.
It is this as you say that all maladies must
Yield to infinitesimal doses of dust,
It may be that those volumes the patient espies,
Are only put there to throw dust in his eyes.

From the same:

W. G."

"Rome, April 8th

"My dear Dr. Quin, I have now to ask,

If you won't think I'm going to put you to task,
To take in my servant, and give him his room-
His name is Luigi, my coachman and groom-
Who is going to Naples for carriage and horses,
And to spend a large sum of money, which worse is.
So, if you'll be so good to order your man
To get his room ready as fast as he can-

Above or below, 'tis to me all the same,

And then send him back just as fast as he came,

You'll oblige me, and serve me, and much I shall thank you,
And among my particular friends I shall rank you.

As to balls and to dinners, and fêtes and such bawbles,
The city's most truly indebted to Mawbles,
Who, being a person of great notoriety,
Contrives to be useful to all the society,
Inviting the people to parties and routs,
Promiscuously treating the ins and the outs.
In short, I may say we are going on well,
And that I am most truly your friend,



"Apollo had two famous sons,

Phaeton and Esculapius;
The first dared drive his horses once,
The other drove the vapors.

Now Esculapius is grown gay,
He too must manage horses,
Sport chariot and cabriolet,

And be a friend of D'Orsay's.

Apollo's learned son, beware,

Why dash at such a rate on?
Be wise for once, and have a care,
Lest you should fall like Phaeton.

"Apothecaries' Hall, St. Valentine's day."

No. XVI.

In vol. i., page 251.

"What language, let me think, is meet

For you, well called the Marguerite.
The Tuscan has too weak a tone,
Too rough and rigid is our own;
The Latin-no, it will not do,
The Attic is alone for you.


"Quoniam carmine te alloquar decenter
Vero nomine dicta Margarita !
Sermo est durior Anglicanus: atque
Tuscus displicet: est enim vigoris

W. S. L."

A Latin version by Mr. Landor of the above lines followed the latter, which escaped notice in time for insertion in its proper place, and is therefore placed in this Appendix.

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