dining for a few Pauls when alone,-spending hundreds when he has friends." Nil fuit unquam sic impar sibi.” I am sorry to find that he has become more indolent. He has almost discontinued his rides on horseback, and has starved himself into an unnatural thinness; and his digestion is become weaker. In order to keep up the stamina that he requires, he indulges somewhat too freely in wine, and in his favourite beverage, Hollands, of which he now drinks a pint almost every night. 66 He said to me humorously enough— 66 Why don't you drink, Medwin? source of all my inspiration. If you were to drink as “much as I do, you would write as good verses: depend "on it, it is the true Hippocrene.” On the 28th of August I parted from Lord Byron with increased regret, and a sadness that looked like presentiment. He was preparing for his journey to Genoa, whither he went a few days after my departure. I shall, I hope, be excused in presenting the public with the following sketch of his character, drawn and sent to a friend a few weeks after his death, and to which I adapted the following motto Αστηρ πριν μεν έλαμπες ενι ζωοισιν Εωος, Νυν δε θανων λαμπεις ̔Εσπερος εν φθιμενοις. "Born an aristocrat, I am naturally one by temper,” said Lord Byron. Many of the lines in 'The Hours of Idleness,' particularly the Farewell to Newstead, shew that in early life he prided himself much on his ancestors: but it is their exploits that he celebrates; and when he mentioned his having * The following passage in an unpublished life of Alfieri, which I lately met with, might not inaptly be applied to Lord Byron : "Dès son enfance tous les symptômes d'un caractère fier, indomtable et mélancolique se manifestèrent. Taciturne et tranquille à l'ordinaire, mais quelquefois très babillard, très vif, et presque toujours dans les extrêmes-obstiné et rebelle à la force, très soumis aux avis donnés par amitié; contenu plutôt par la crainte d'être grondé, que par toute autre chose; inflexible quand on voudroit le prendre à rebours ;-tel fut-il dans ses jeunes années." had his pennant hauled down, he said they might have respected a descendant of the great navigator. Almost from infancy he shewed an independence of character, which a long minority and a maternal education contributed to encourage. His temper was quick, but he never long retained anger. Impatient of control, he was too proud to justify himself when right, or if accused, to own himself wrong; yet no man was more unopiniated, more open to conviction, and more accessible to advice,* when he knew that it proceeded from friendship, or was motived by affection or regard. Though opposed to the foreign policy of England, he was no revolutionist. The best proof of his prizing the "Perhaps of all his friends Sir Walter Scott had the most influence over him. The sight of his hand-writing, he said, put him in spirits for the day. Shelley's disapprobation of a poem caused him to destroy it. In compliance with the wishes of the public, he relinquished the drama. Disown it as he may, he is ambitious of fame, and almost as sensitive as Voltaire or Rousseau: even the gossip of this little town annoys him." Extract from a Letter to a Friend, written at Pisa. constitution of his own country, was that he wished to see it transplanted on the Continent, and over the world: and his first and last aspirations were for Greece, her liberty and independence. "Like Petrarch, disappointed love, perhaps, made him a poet. You know my enthusiasm about him. I consider him in poetry what Michael Angelo was in painting: he aimed at sublime and effect, rather than the finishing of his pictures; he flatters the vanity of his admirers by leaving them something to fill up. If the eagle flights of his genius cannot always be followed by the eye, it is the fault of our weak vision and limited optics. It requires a mind particularly organized to dive into and sound the depths of his metaphysics. What I admire is the hardihood of his ideas the sense of power that distinguishes his writings from all others. He told me that, when he wrote, he neither knew nor cared what was coming next. the real inspiration of the poet. This is "But, note or text, I never know the word which will come next." Don Juan, Canto IX. Stanza 41. "Which is the finest of his works ?—It is a question I have often heard discussed. I have been present when 'Childe Harold,' Manfred,' 'Cain,' The Corsair,' and even 'Don Juan,' were named ;—a proof, at least, of the versatility of his powers, and that he succeeded in many styles of writing. But I do not mean to canvass the merits of these works, a work on his poetical character and writings is already before the public.* "Lord Byron's has been called the Satanic school of poetry. It is a name that never has stuck, and never will stick, but among a faction. "To superficial or prejudiced readers he appeared to confound virtue and vice; but if the shafts of his ridicule fell on mankind in general, they were only levelled against the hypocritical cant, the petty interests, and despicable cabals and intrigues of the age. No man respected more the liberty from which the social virtues emanate. No writings ever tended more to exalt and ennoble the dignity of man and of human nature. A generous action, the memory of * I alluded to Sir E. Brydges' Letters. |