what people mean: you all talk in the style of C * * L * *'s
novels.

"It is not Mr. St. John, but _Mr. St. Aubyn_, son of Sir John St.
Aubyn. _Polidori_ knows him, and introduced him to me. He is of
Oxford, and has got my parcel. The Doctor will ferret him out, or
ought. The parcel contains many letters, some of Madame de Staël's,
and other people's, besides MSS., &c. By ----, if I find the
gentleman, and he don't find the parcel, I will say something he
won't like to hear.

"You want a 'civil and delicate declension' for the medical
tragedy? Take it--

"Dear Doctor, I have read your play,
Which is a good one in its way,--
Purges the eyes and moves the bowels,
And drenches handkerchiefs like towels
With tears, that, in a flux of grief,
Afford hysterical relief
To shatter'd nerves and quicken'd pulses,
Which your catastrophe convulses.
"I like your moral and machinery;
Your plot, too, has such scope for scenery!
Your dialogue is apt and smart;
The play's concoction full of art;
Your hero raves, your heroine cries,
All stab, and every body dies.
In short, your tragedy would be
The very thing to hear and see: