The best and the worst
to me is, that I have given up two guineas a week at the "Post," and
regained my health and spirits, which were upon the wane. I grew sick,
and Stuart unsatisfied. _Ludisti satis, tempus abire est_; I must cut
closer, that's all. Mister Fell--or as you, with your usual
facetiousness and drollery, call him, Mr. Fell--has stopped short in the
middle of his play. Some _friend_ has told him that it has not the least
merit in it. Oh that I had the rectifying of the Litany! I would put in
a _Libera nos (Scriptores videlicet) ab amicis_! That's all the news. _A
propos_ (is it pedantry, writing to a Frenchman, to express myself
sometimes by a French word, when an English one would not do as well?
Methinks my thoughts fall naturally into it)--
In all this time I have done but one thing which I reckon tolerable, and
that I will transcribe, because it may give you pleasure, being a
picture of _my_ humors. You will find it in my last page. It absurdly is
a first number of a series, thus strangled in its birth.
More news! The Professor's Rib [1] has come out to be a disagreeable
woman, so much so as to drive me and some more old cronies from his
house. He must not wonder if people are shy of coming to see him because
of the _Snakes_.
C. L.
[1] Mrs. Godwin
XLIII.
TO WILLIAM GODWIN.
_November_ 10, 1803.
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