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publication anticipated by the "Cambridge" or other Chronicles.

(1816, December 4. Letter 617, to John Murray, Vol. IV., p. 17.)

So you have seen Holmes [the miniature painter]. By the way, owing to some foolery of Scrope's, he had cut my hair in his picture (not quite so well as Blake). I desired him to restore it: pray make him do, or see that he has done so. He may send his print in a letter if he likes, unless you see it and don't like it.

(1817, March 25. Letter 638, to the Hon.

Augusta Leigh, Vol. IV., p. 82.)

You talk of "approximations to indelicacy "[made in Don Juan]; this reminds me of George Lamb's quarrel at Cambridge with Scrope Davies. "Sir," said George, "he hinted at my illegitimacy." "Yes," said Scrope, "I called him a damned adulterous bastard"; the approximation and the hint are not unlike.

(1819, May 20. Letter 735, to John Murray, Vol. IV., p. 304.)

Our friend Scrope [ruined by high play] is dished, diddled, and done up; what he is our mutual friends have written to me somewhat more coldly than I think our former connections with him warrant: but where he is I know not, for neither they nor he have informed me.

(1820, December 22. Letter 855, to Francis

Hodgson, Vol. V., p. 141.)

Baillie (commonly called Long Baillie, a very clever man, but odd), complained in riding to our friend Scrope B. Davies, "that he had a stitch in his side." "I don't wonder at it" (said Scrope) (said Scrope) "for you ride like a tailor." Whoever had seen B. on horseback, with his very tall figure on a small nag, would not deny the justice of the repartée.

In 1808, Scrope and myself being at Supper at Steevens's (I think Hobhouse was there too) after the Opera, young Goulburne (of the Blues and of the Blueviad) came in full of the praises of his horse, Grimaldi, who had just won a race at Newmarket. "Did he win easy?" said Scrope. "Sir," replied Goulburne, "he did not even condescend to puff at coming in.' "No" (said Scrope) "and so you puff

for him."

One of the cleverest men I ever knew in Conversation was Scrope Beardmore Davies. Hobhouse is also very good in that line, though it is of less consequence to a man who has other ways of showing his talents than in company. Scrope was always ready, and often witty: Hobhouse as witty, but not always so ready, being more diffident.

When Brummell was obliged (by that affair of poor Meyler, who thence acquired the name of "Dick the Dandy-killer"-it was about money and debt and all that) to retire to France, he knew no French; and having obtained a Grammar for the purposes of Study, our friend Scrope Davies was asked what progress Brummell had made in French, to which he responded, "that B. had been stopped like Buonaparte in Russia by the Elements." I have I have put this pun into "Beppo," which is "a fair exchange and no robbery"; for

Scrope made his fortune at several dinners (as he owned himself), by repeating occasionally as his own some of the buffooneries with which I had encountered him in the Morning.

A private play being got up at Cambridge, a M Tulk, greatly to the inconvenience of Actors and audience, declined his part on a sudden, so that it was necessary to make an apology to the Company. In doing this, Hobhouse (indignant like all the rest at this inopportune caprice of the Seceder) stated to the audience "that in consequence of a M' Tulk having unexpectedly thrown up his part, they must request their indulgence, etc., etc." Next day, the furious Tulk demanded of Hobhouse, "did you, Sir, or did you not use that expression?" Sir," (said Hobhouse) "I did or did not use that expression." "Perhaps" (said Scrope Davies, who was present), "you object to the indefinite article, and prefer being entitled the Mr Tulk?" The Tulk eyed Scrope indignantly; but aware, probably, that the said Scrope, besides being a profane Jester, had the misfortune to be a very good shot, and had already fought two or three duels, he retired without further objections to either article, except a conditional menace -if he should ascertain that an intention, etc., etc.,

etc.

("Detached Thoughts," 1821-22. "Thoughts" 19, 20, 26, 28, 35, Vol. V., pp. 419, 422, 427.)

One night, Scrope Davies at a gaming house (before I was of age), being tipsy as he usually was at the Midnight hour, and having lost monies, was in

vain intreated by his friends, one degree less intoxicated than himself, to come or go home. In despair, he was left to himself, and to the demons of the dice box. Next day, being visited, about two of the Clock, by some friends just risen with a severe headache and empty pockets (who had left him losing at four or five in the morning), he was found in a sound sleep, without a night-cap, and not particularly encumbered with bed-cloathes: a Chamber-pot stood by his bed-side, brim-full ofBank Notes! all won, God knows how, and crammed, Scrope knew not where; but there they were, all good legitimate notes, and to the amount of some thousand pounds.

At Brighthelmstone (I love orthography at length), in the year 1808, Hobhouse, Scrope Davies, Major Cooper, and myself, having dined together with Lord Delvin, Count (I forget the french Emigrant nomenclature), and others, did about the middle of the night (we four) proceed to a house of Gambling, being then amongst us possest of about twenty guineas of ready cash, with which we had to maintain as many of your whorson horses and servants, besides house-hold and whore-hold expenditure. We had, I say, twenty guineas or so, and we lost them, returning home in bad humour. Cooper went home. Scrope and Hobhouse and I (it being high Summer), did firstly strip and plunge into the sea, whence, after half an hour's swimming of those of us (Scrope and I) who could swim, we emerged in our dressing-gowns to discuss a bottle or two of Champaigne and Hock (according to choice) at our quarters. In course of this discussion, words arose; Scrope seized H. by the throat; H. seized a knife in self-defence, and stabbed

AMANTIUM IRE REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS 319

Scrope in the shoulder to avoid being throttled. Scrope fell bathed in blood and wine-for the bottle fell with him, being infinitely intoxicated with Gaming, Sea-bathing at two in the morning, and Supplementary Champaigne. The skirmish had past before I had time or thought to interfere. Of course I lectured against gambling

"Pugnare Thracum est,"

and then examined Scrope's wound, which proved to be a gash long and broad, but not deep nor dangerous. Scrope was furious: first he wanted to fight, then to go away in a post-chaise, and then to shoot himself, which latter intention I offered to forward, provided that he did not use my pistols, which, in case of suicide, would become a deo-dand to the King. At length, with many oaths and some difficulty, he was gotten to bed. In the morning, Cool reflection and a Surgeon came, and, by dint of loss of blood, and sticking plaister, the quarrel (which Scrope had begun), was healed as well as the wound, and we were all friends as for years before and after.

("Detached Thoughts,"1821-22. "Thoughts" 77 and 78, Vol. V., pp. 447, 448.)

Charles Skinner Matthews

You did not know Matthews: he was a man of the most astonishing powers, as he sufficiently proved at Cambridge, by carrying off more prizes and fellowships, against the ablest candidates, than any other graduate on record; but a most decided atheist, indeed noxiously so, for he proclaimed his principles