My first sight of Lady Blessington was connected with circumstances sufficiently characteristic of her extraordinary personal beauty at the period in question-about five or six and twenty years ago-to excuse my referring to it in detail, though it does not fall within the immediate scope of these Recollections; for it was not till several years afterwards that I became personally acquainted with the subject of them. It was on the opening day of that Royal Academy exhibition which contained Lawrence's celebrated portrait of Lady Blessington-one of the very finest he ever painted, and universally known by the numerous engravings that have since been made from it. In glancing hastily round the room on first entering, I had duly admired this exquisite portrait, as approaching very near to the perfection of the art, though (as I conceived) by no means reaching it; for there were points in the picture which struck me as inconsistent with others that were also present. Yet, I could not, except as a vague theory, lay the apparent discrepancies at the door of the artist. They might belong to the original; though I more than doubted this explanation of them; for there are certain qualities and attributes which necessarily imply the absence of certain others, and consequently of their corresponding expressions.

Presently, on returning to this portrait, I beheld standing before it, as if on purpose to confirm my theory, the lovely original. She was leaning on the arm of her husband, Lord Blessington, while he was gazing in fond admiration on the portrait. And then I saw how impossible it is for an artist to "flatter" a really beautiful woman, and that, in attempting to do so, he is certain, how ever skillful, to fall into the error of blending incompatible expressions in the same face; as in fact, even Lawrence's portraits of celebrated "beauties" invariably do. He

was either not content to represent them as they really were, or incapable of doing so. They one and all include a meretricious look, which is wholly incompatible with the presence of perfect female beauty, either of form or expression.

I have seen no other so striking instance of the inferiority of art to nature, when the latter reaches the ideal standard, as in this celebrated portrait of Lady Blessington. As the original stood before it on the occasion I have alluded to, she fairly "killed" the copy, and this no less in the individual details than in the general effect. Moreover, what I had believed to be errors and shortcomings in the picture were wholly absent in the original. There is about the former a consciousness, a "pretension," a leaning forward, and a looking forth, as if to claim or court notice and admiration, of which there was no touch in the latter.

So strong was the impression made upon my mind by this first sight of, perhaps, the loveliest woman of her day, that, although it is five or six-and-twenty years ago, I could at this moment place my foot on the spot where she stood, and before which her portrait hung-a little to the left of the door, as you enter the great room of the old Royal Academy.

At this time Lady Blessington was about six-and-twenty years of age; but there was about her face, together with that beaming intelligence which rarely shows itself upon the countenance till that period of life, a bloom and freshness which as rarely survive early youth, and a total absence of those undefinable marks which thought and feeling still more rarely leave behind them. Unlike all other beautiful faces that I have seen, hers was, at the time of which I speak, neither a history nor a prophecy-not a book to read and study, a problem to solve, or a mystery to speculate upon; but a star to kneel before and worship-a picture to gaze

upon and admire-a flower the fragrance of which seemed to reach and penetrate you from a distance, by the mere looking upon it-in short, an end and a consummation in itself, not a means to, or a promise of, anything else.

Lady Blessington had not, at the period I have just spoken of, done anything to distinguish herself in the literary world; though the fine taste in art, and the splendid hospitalities of her husband, and her own personal attractions and intellectual fascinations, had already made their residence at St. James's Square the resort of all that was most conspicuous in art, literature, and social and political distinction. It would be difficult to name any one among the many remarkable men of that day (namely, from 1818, when her marriage with Lord Blessington took place, to 1822, when they went abroad to reside for several years-indeed, until Lord Blessington's death in 1829,) who then enjoyed, or have since acquired a European reputation, with whom Lady Blessington was not on terms of social intimacy, which amounted in almost every case to a certain mild and subdued phase of personal friendship-the only friendship which the progress of modern civilization has left among usthat, namely, which may subsist between man and woman.

A tithe only of the names of those who ranked among Lady Blessington's friends at this period, and who remained such during their respective lives, would serve to show that her attractions were not those of mere beauty, or of mere wealth and station. Quite as little were they those of intellectual supremacy or literary distinction; for at this period she had acquired none of the latter, and at no time did she possess the former. In fact, it was the mediocrity of her talents which secured and maintained for Lady Blessington that unique position which she held in the literary and social world of London, during the twenty years following her husband's death. Not that she could ever have compassed, much less have maintained, that position, unassisted by the rank and wealth which her marriage with Lord Blessington gave her, or even in the absence of that personal beauty which gave the crowning prestige and the completing charm to her other attractions. But none of these, nor all of them united, would have enabled her to gain and keep the unparalleled position she has held for the last twenty years, as the centre of all that was brilliant in the intellect, and distinguished in the literary,

political, and social life of London, had she not possessed that indefinable charm of manner and personal bearing which was but the outward expression of a spirit good and beautiful in itself, and therefore intensely sympathizing with all that is good and beautiful in all things. The talisman possessed by Lady Blessington, and which fixed around her all that was bright and rich in intellect and in heart, was that "blest condition" of temperament and of spirit which, for the time being, engendered its like in all who came within the scope of its influence. Her rank and wealth, her beauty and celebrity, did but attract votaries to the outer precincts of the temple, many of whom only came to admire and wonder, or to smile and depreciate, as the case might be. But once within the influence of the spell, all were changed into worshippers, because all felt the presence of the deity-all were penetrated by that atmosphere of mingled goodness and sweetness which beamed forth in her bright smiles, became musical in the modulations of her happy voice, or melted into the heart at her cordial words.

effort to be so.

If there never was a woman more truly "fascinating" than Lady Blessington, it was because there never was one who made less Not that she did not desire to please: no woman desired it more. But she never tried to do so-never felt that she was doing so-never (so to speak) cared whether she did so or not. There was an abandon about her, partly attributable to temperament, partly to her birth and country, and partly, no doubt, to her consciousness of great personal beauty, which, in any woman less happily constituted, would have degenerated into something bordering on vulgarity. But in her it was so tempered by sweetness of disposition, and so kept in check by an exquisite social tact, as well as by natural good breeding as contradistinguished from artificial-in other words, a real sympathy, not an affected one, with the feelings of others-that it formed the chief charm and attraction of her character and bearing.

My personal acquaintance with Lady Blessington did not commence till her return from abroad, after her husband's death. But as her social career from the period of her marriage with Lord Blessington in 1818, up to his death in 1829, was marked by features of great public interest, (particularly that almost daily intercourse with Lord Byron during the last few months of his strange life, which gave rise to her "Conver

sations" with him, and her residence in Paris during the Revolution of July, 1830,) the reader may like to have before him a brief summary of the events of that period, as noted in her own "Diary," which I have reason to believe she continued up to her death.

From her marriage in 1818, till the autumn of 1822, Lord and Lady Blessington resided in St. James's Square, where, as I have said, she formed an acquaintance, and in most cases an intimacy, with a very large portion of the literary and political celebri ties of that day. Here are a few of the names of those of her early friends who have already passed from the scene, or still linger on the verge of it: Luttrell, William Spencer, Dr. Parr, Mathias, Rogers, Moore, John Kemble, Sir William Drummond, Sir William Gell, Cosway, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Sir George Beaumont, Lord Alvanley, Lord Dudley and Ward, Lord Guilford, Sir William Herschell, &c., &c.; and among political celebrities, Lords Grey and Castlereagh, Sir Francis Burdett, Lord John Russell, Lord Lansdowne, Lord Palmerston, &c.

In the autumn of 1822 the Blessingtons left England, with a view to a lengthened residence abroad. They stayed at Paris for a week, and then proceeded rapidly to Switzerland, as rapidly, at least, as the princely style of their travelling arrangements permitted; for nothing could exceed the lavish luxury with which Lord Blessington insisted on surrounding his young and beautiful wife, whose simple tastes, and still more her genial sympathies with all classes of her fellowbeings, by no means coveted such splendor, though her excitable temperament enabled her richly to enjoy its results.

They reached the Jura in five days; travelled in Switzerland for about a month, and then returned, through Geneva and Lyons, to Vienne, in Dauphiny, where, by one of those unaccountable fancies in which only they who are satiated with luxury and splendor ever indulge, they took up their abode at a vile inn (the only one the town afforded,) and submitted for three weeks to all sorts of privations and inconveniences, in order, ostensibly, to explore the picturesque and antiquarian beauties of the most ancient city of the Gauls, and its vicinity, but in reality, to find in a little bracing and wholesome contrast, a relief from that ennui and lassitude which, at that time of day, used to induce sybarite lords to drive Brighton stages, and sensitive ladies to brave alone the dangers of Arabian deserts.

From Vienne they proceeded to Avignon, at which city they made a stay of several weeks, and were feted by the notabilities of the place in an incessant round of dinners, balls, soirées, &c., which, marked as they were by all the deficiencies and désagrémens of French provincial hospitality, were nevertheless enjoyed by Lady Blessington with a relish strongly characteristic of that cordial and happy temperament which rendered her the most popular person of whatever circle she formed a part.

Loitering for about six weeks more between Avignon and Genoa, they arrived at the latter city at the end of March, 1823, and the next day Lady Blessington was introduced (at his own particular request) to Lord Byron, who was residing in the Casa Saluzzo, at the village of Albaro, a short distance from the city.

Lady Blessington's intercourse with Lord Byron, so pleasantly and characteristically described by herself in the well-known published "Conversations," and as she was accustomed to describe it viva voce, and still more pleasantly and characteristically, in her own conversations at Seamore Place and Gore House, formed an era in her life, and probably contributed as much to the unique position which she afterwards held in London society for so many years, as even the charm of her manner, the elegance of her hospitality, and the social tact in which she was unrivalled. For Byron's death occurred so soon after his quitting Genoa for Greece, and the last few months of his residence in Italy had been so almost exclusively devoted to that friendly intercourse with the Blessingtons in which he evidently took unusual pleasure, that Lady Blessington may be considered as having been the depository of his last thoughts and feelings; and she may indeed be regarded as having had no small influence on the tone and color of the last and best days of that most strange and wayward of men.

Lady Blessington's first interview with Byron took place at the gate of the courtyard of his own villa at Albaro. Lord Blessington, who had long been acquainted with Byron, had called on him immediately on their arrival at Genoa, leaving Lady Blessington in the carriage. In the course of conversation Lord Byron requested to be presented to Lady Blessington-a request so unusual on his part in regard to English travellers, of whatever rank or celebrity, that Lord Blessington at once admitted that Lady B. was in the carriage, with her sister,

On the Blessington's departure, Byron asked leave to visit them the next day at their hotel, and from that moment, there commenced an intercourse of genial and friendly intimacy between Byron and Lady Blessington which, untouched as it was by the least taint of flirtation on either side, might, had it endured a little longer, have redeemed the personal character of Byron, and saved him for those high and holy things for which his noble and beautiful genius seems to have been created, but which the fatal Nemesis of his early life interdicted him from accomplishing.

Lady Blessington seems, in fact, to have been the only woman of his own rank and station with whom Byron was ever at his ease, and with whom, therefore, he was himself. With all others he seemed to feel a constraint which irritated and vexed him into the assumption of vices, both of manner and moral feeling, which did not belong to him. It is evident, from Lady Blessington's details of conversations which must be (in substance at least) correctly reported, that Byron had a heart as soft as a woman's or a child's. He used to confess to her that any affecting incident or description in a book moved him to tears; and in recalling some of the events of his early life, he has been frequently so moved in her presence. His treatment, also, of Lord Blessington, when he received the news of the death of his only son, Lord Mountjoy, just after their arrival at Genoa, was marked by an almost feminine softness and gentleness. His personal regard for Lord Blessington had its origin in the same gentleness and goodness of heart. "I must say," exclaimed Byron to Lady Blessington, at an early period of their

It is equally certain that he thought better of womankind after his ten weeks of almost daily intimacy with Lady Blessington at this period; and if his previous engagement with the Greek Committee had not in some sort compelled him to go to Greece, where his life was sacrificed to the excitements and annoyances of the new situation in which he thus placed himself, it is more than probable that his whole character and course of life would have been changed. For what Byron all his life needed in women, and never once found except in his favorite sister, Mrs. Leigh, was a woman not to love or be beloved by (he always found, or fancied he had found, more than enough of both these,) but one whom he could thoroughly esteem and regard, for the frankness, sweetness, and goodness of her disposition and temper, while he could entirely admire in her those perfect graces and elegances of manner, and those exquisite charms of person, in the absence of which his fastidious taste and exacting imagination could not realize that ideal of woman, which was necessary to render his intellectual intercourse with the sex agreeable, or even tolerable. Merely clever or even brilliant women-such as Madame de Stael-he hated; and even those who, like his early acquaintance, Lady J-, were both clever and beautiful, he was more than indifferent to, because, being from their station and personal pretensions, the leaders of fashion, they were compelled to adopt a system of life wholly incompatible with that natural one in which alone his own habits of social intercourse enabled him to sympathize. Those women again who, with a daring reckless as his own, openly professed a passion for him (like the unhappy Lady

or the scarcely less unfortunate Countess Guiccioli,) he either despised and shrank from (as in the first of these instances,) or merely pitied and tolerated (as in