CAIN,

A MYSTERY.

"Now the Serpent was more subtil than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made "- Gen. ch. iii, ver. L

ΤΟ

SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.

THIS MYSTERY OF CAIN

IS INSCRIBED,

BY HIS OBLIGED FRIEND,

AND FAITHFUL SERVANT,

THE AUTHOR. (1)

(1) Sir Walter Scott announced his acceptance of this dedication in the following letter to Mr. Murray: —

"MY DEAR SIR,

Edinburgh, 4th December, 1821: "I accept, with feelings of great obligation, the flattering proposal of Lord Byron to prefix my name to the very grand and tremendous drama of Cain.' I may be partial to it, and you will allow I have cause; but I do not know that his Muse has ever taken so lofty a flight amid her former soarings. He has certainly matched Milton on his own ground. Some part of the language is bold, and may shock one class of readers, whose line will be adopted by others out of affectation or envy. But then they must con.. demn the Paradise Lost,' if they have a mind to be consistent. The fiend-like reasoning and bold blasphemy of the fiend and of his pupil lead exactly to the point which was to be expected, the commission of the first murder, and the ruin and despair of the perpetrator.

"I do not see how any one can accuse the author himself of Manicheism,

"In the second place (second I mean in point of order, for I do not presume to decide which motive predominates in his Lordship's mind), the blasphemous impieties of Cain,' though nothing more in reality than the echo of often refuted sophisms, by being newly dressed and put forth in a form easy to be remembered, may produce considerable effect; that is, they may mislead the ignorant, unsettle the wavering, or confirm the hardened sceptic in his misbelief. These are consequences which Lord Byron must have contemplated; with what degree of complacency he alone can tell. "But, in the third place, if neither of these things happens, and 'Cain' should not prove either lucrative or mischievous, there is another point which Lord Byron has secured to himself, so that he cannot be deprived of it, the satisfaction of insulting those from whom he differs both in faith and practice.... Now, at last, he quarrels with the very conditions of humanity, rebels against that Providence which guides and governs all things, and dares to adopt the language which had never before been attributed to any being but one, Evil, be thou my good.' Such, as far as we can judge, is Lord Byron."

This critic's performance is thus alluded to in one of Lord Byron's letters to Mr. Douglas Kinnaird: :- "I know nothing of Rivington's Remonstrance' by the 'eminent Churchman;' but I suppose the man wants a living."

On hearing that his publisher was threatened with more serious annoyances, in consequence of the appearance of the "Mystery," Lord Byron addressed the following letter to Mr. Murray :

"Pisa, February 8. 1822.

"Attacks upon me were to be expected; but I perceive one upon you in the papers, which I confess that I did not expect. How, or in what manner, you can be considered responsible for what I publish, I am at a loss to conceive. *

* This letter was thus versified at the time in Blackwood's Noctes Ambrosianæ : —

"Attacks on me were what I look'd for, Murray;
But why the devil do they badger you?

These godly newspapers seem hot as curry;
But don't, dear Publisher, be in a stew.
They'll be so glad to see you in a flurry-

I mean those canting Quacks of your Review-
They fain would have you all to their own Set; -
But never mind them-we 're not parted yet.

They surely don't suspect you, Mr. John,

Of being more than accoucheur to Cain;
What mortal ever said you wrote the Don?
I dig the mine- you only fire the train!

"If Cain' be blasphemous,' Paradise Lost is blasphemous; and the very words of the Oxford gentleman, Evil, be thou my good,' are from that very poem, from the mouth of Satan; and is there any thing

But here why, really, no great lengths I've gone

Big wigs and buzz were always my disdain

But my poor shoulders why throw all the guilt on?
There's as much blasphemy, or more, in Milton.

The thing 's a drama, not a sermon-book;

Here stands the Murderer- that's the Old One there-
In gown and cassock how would Satan look?

Should Fratricides discourse like Dr. Blair?

The puritanic Milton freedom took,

Which now-a-days would make a Bishop stare;
But not to shock the feelings of the age,

I only bring your angels on the stage.

To bully You, yet shrink from battling Me,

Is baseness

nothing baser stains The Times: '

While Jeffrey in each catalogue I see

While no one talks of priestly Piayfair's crimes,-
While Drummond, at Marseil'es, blasphemes with glee-
Why all this row about my harmless rhymes?

Depend on't, Piso, 'tis some private pique

'Mong those that cram your Quarterly with Greek.

If this goes on, I wish you 'd plainly tell 'em,
'Twere quite a treat to me to be indicted;
Is it less sin to write such books than sell 'em?
There's muscle! - I'm resolved I'll see you righted.
In me, great Sharpe*, in me converte telum!

Come, Dr. Sewell*, show you have been knighted!-
On my account you never shall be dunn'd;
The copyright, in part, I will refund.

You may tell all who come into your shop,

You and your Bull-dog both remonstrated;
My Jackall did the same, you hints may drop,
(All which, perhaps, you have already said ;)
Just speak the word, I'll fly to be your prop;

They shall not touch a hair, man, on your head.
You 're free to print this letter; you're a fool
If you don't send it first to The John Bull.'"

[* Mr. Sharpe and Sir John Sewell, LL.D., managers of the Constitu tional Association.]