Byron

humour of the situation no doubt appealed to Byron's acute sense of proportion, and induced him to feed the calumnies against himself, by painting his own portrait in the darkest colours.

er the separation was a glaring blunder, for which no subsequent a

ce he suffered at the hands of those who were fed on baseless calumnies raised in his breast a feeling of profound contempt for his fellow-creatures-a contempt which led him into many follies; thus, instead of standing up against the storm and meeting his detractors face to fa

and they were right; they did after their kind. It is not every day that the savage envy of as

ion, but his past experiences had checked its course, and left it to prey on the aching void in his breast. He could never forget his sorrows, which in a certain sense had unhinged his mind,

great poet, the charlatanism of affecting to be a Satanic character, in this our matter-of-fact nineteenth century, would be very amusing: but when the genius of the man is taken into account, it appears too ridiculous, and one feels

s an interest to details which otherwise would not be worth mentioning. She tells us, for instance, that one of the strongest anomalies

scriptions are so glowing, and the elegancies and comforts of

ant of what in his class of life

ing alarming in it, and congratulate himself that he had no such luxuries, or did not require them. I should say that a bad and vulgar taste predominated in all Byron's equipments, whether in dress or in furniture. I saw his bed at Genoa, when I passed through in 1826, and it certainly was the most vulgarly gaudy thing I ever saw; the curtains in the

rare with men, though frequent in the society of

I must in candour admit, that if any person ever had an excuse for an extraordinary portion of it, she has; as in all her thoughts, words, and deeds, she is the most decorous woman that ever existed, and must appear a perfect and refined gentlewoman even to her femme-de-chambre. This extraordinary degree of self-command in Lady Byron produced an opposite effect on me. When I have

t he owed the little good which he could boast, to her influence over his wayward nature

gland offers to my view.' 'Augusta,' said Byron, 'knew all my weaknesses, but she had love enough to bear with them. She has given me such good advice, and y

chose to immolate himself, and took a sort of Tarpeian leap, passing the remainder of his existence in bemoaning his bruises, and reviling the spectators who were not responsible for his fall. One of the main results of this conduct was his separation

ce may conceal my portrait from her eyes,[9] it cannot hereafter conceal my thoughts and feelings, which will talk to her when he to whom they belonged has ceased to exist. The triumph will then be mine; and the tears that

l-bound, and then remarked ingenuously: 'Please do not think that it is affectation on my part when I declare to you that I have been brought up in complete ignorance of all that concerns my father.' Never until that moment had Ada seen the handwriting of her father, and, as we know, even his portrait had been hidden from her. When Byron's genius was revealed to his daughter, an enthusiasm for his memory filled her soul. She shut hersel

l Hate as duty s

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closed between us

u wilt love me;

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ove me, still that m