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cipled character, and lead him through those ranks of so. ciety, whose high external accomplishments cover and cloak internal and secret vices, and I paint the natural effects of such characters; and certainly they are not so highly co. loured as we find them in real life.”
« This may be true; but the question is, what are your motives and object for painting nothing but scenes of vice and folly?"-" To remove the cloak which the manners and maxims of society," said his Lordship, “throw over their secret sids, and show them to the world as they really are."
uence of this is, that his Muse, like some of her own be. Foines, takes our hearts with far more ease than she keeps hem. He bas, however, such confidence in his own powers, bat be reverses the rule of Horace, 'Si vis me flere,' etc. and not only makes us weep without weeping himself, but aughs in our face for doing so. He must abstain from these contradictions, or his poetical dynasty, like the political one of Verander, will be more extensive than durable. The heavenorn enthusiasm, the pure and lofty aspirations, so charac. eristic of the genuine poet, are feigned by him rather than elt, and assumed rather than inspired. That the illusion is dmirably kept up and sustained, his readers must willingly oncede; but the composition after all is artificial, and has puch of the brilliance, but little of the worth of the diamond.
will not insult the understanding of the public, by quoting massages in support of the above proposition; the task would e both needless and endless ; it would be neither more nor ess than to cite the one half of his works, in opposition to the ther. Those who choose to amuse themselves, by pursuing mueb comparisons, may find that there is hardly a subject that is Lordship has not honoured both with his scurrilities and is sublimities. He can play either tragedy, comedy, or arce, like an actor, or defend either vice or virtue, like a ounsellor, without being very seriously affected either by he one, or by the otber. His Lordship's Muse, like Lucifer, an indeed at times assume the appearance of an angel of ght; like Him, she can impose upon the centinels, and atrade into Paradise, only to blaspheme, to tempt, and to estroy."
In a little journal conducted by the great poet of sermany, Goethe, and entitled Kunst und Alterthum, .e. “Art and Antiquity," (Part III. 1821), there ppeared a translation into German of part of the first anto of Don Juan, with some remarks on the poem, by the venerable Editor, of which we next submit a specimen :
XL. GOETHE. "Don Juan is a thoroughly geniat work-misanthropical
the bitterest savageness, tender to the most exquisite decacy of sweet feelings; and when we once understand and ppreciate the author, and make up our minds not fretfully ad vainly to wish him other than he is, it is impossible ot to enjoy what he chooses to pour out before us with ich unbounded audacity-with such utter recklessness. he technical execution of tbe verse is in every respect aswerable to the strange wild simplicity of the conception ad plan: the poet no more thinks of polishing his phrase, lan he does of flattering his kind; and yet, when we tamine the piece more narrowly, we feel that English Setry is in possession of what the German has never at. ined, a classically elegant comic style.... "If I am blamed for recommending this work for transtion-for throwing out hints which may serve to introIce so immoral a performance among a quiet and uncorpted nation-I answer, that I really do not perceive any elihood of our virtue's sustaining serious damage in this wy: poets and romancers, bad as they may be, have not I learned to be more perpicious than the daily newspapers hich lie on every table."
After Scott and Goethe, we should be sorry to quote y body but Lord Byron himself. In Mr. Kennedy's count of his Conversations with the noble poet at -phalonia, a few weeks before his death, we find e following passage,- with which let these prolegona conclude.
XLI. BYRON ipse (apud Kennedy). "I cannot,” said Lord Byron, “ conceive why people will Fays mix up my own character and opinions with those the imaginary beings which, as a poet, I have the right and erty to draw.” "They certainly," said I, “ do not spare your Lordship in it respect; and in Childe Harold, Lara, the Giaour, and * Juan, they are too much disposed to think that you int, in many costumes, yourself, and that these characters
only the vehicles for the expression of your own sentints and feelings.” "They do me great injustice, be replied, “and wbat was ver before done to any poet. Even in Don Juan 1 bave en equally misunderstood. I take a vicious and unprin.
no bones ;” but it may break a bookseller, or, it may LETTER TO THE EDITOR OF
be the cause of bones being broken. The jest is but “MY GRANDMOTHER'S REVIEW." (1)
a bad one at the best for the author, and might have been a still worse one for you, if your copious contra
diction did not certify to all whom it may concera [See “ Testimonies of Authors," No, XVI. antè, p. 782.)
your own indignant innocence, and the immaculate
purity of the British Review. I do not doubt you MY DEAR ROBERTS,
word, my dear Roberts, yet I cannot help wishing As a believer in the Church of England - to say that, in a case of such vital importance, it had asnothing of the State - I have been an occasional reader sumed the more substantial shape of an alhidavit and great admirer of, though not a subscriber to, your sworn before the Lord Mayor Atkins, who readily Review, which is rather expensive. But I do not receives any deposition; and doubtless would have know that any part of its contents ever gave me much brought it in some way as evidence of the designs of surprise till the eleventh article of your twenty-seventh | the Reformers to set fire to London, at the same time number made its appearance. You have there most that he himself meditates the same good office to vigorously refuted a calumnious accusation of bribery wards the river Thames. and corruption, the credence of which in the public I am sure, my dear Roberts, that you will take these mind might not only have damaged your reputation observations of mine in good part; they are writtaa as a clergyman (2) and an editor, but, what would in a spirit of friendship not less pure than your own have been still worse, have injured the circulation of editorial integrity. I have always admired you; and, your journal; which, I regret to hear, is not so exten- not knowing any shape which friendship and admira sive as the “purity" (as you well observe) “ of its," tion can assume more agreeable and useful than that etc. etc. and the present taste for propriety, would of good advice, I shall continue my lucubrations, induce us to expect. The charge itself is of a solemn mixed with here and there a monitory hint as to what nature, and, although in verse, is couched in terms I conceive to be the line you should pursue, in ce of such circumstantial gravity, as to induce a belief you should ever again be assailed with bribes, or as little short of that generally accorded to the thirty- cused of taking them. By the way, you don't sy nine articles, to which you so frankly subscribed on much about the poem, except that it is "flagitios.' taking your degrees. It is a charge the most revolting This is a pity - you should have cut it up; because, to the heart of man, from its frequent occurrence; to to say the truth, in not doing so, you somewhat asset the mind of a statesman, from its occasional truth: 1 any notions which the malignant might entertaisen and to the soul of an editor, from its moral impos- the score of the anonymous asseveration which has sibility. You are charged then in the last line of one made you so angry. octave stanza, and the whole eight lines of the next, You say no bookseller “ was willing to take up viz. 209th and 210th of the first canto of that “pesti- himself the publication, though most of them disgrace lent poem," Don Juan, with receiving, and still more themselves by selling it." Now, my dear friend, tbonch foolishly acknowledging the receipt of, certain mo we all know that those fellows will do any thing for neys, to eulogise the unknown author, who by this | money, methinks the disgrace is more with the para account must be known to you, if to nobody else. An chasers; and some such, doubtless, there are, it impeachment of this nature, so seriously made, there there can be no very extensive selling (as you w is but one way of refuting; and it is my firm per- perceive by that of the British Review) without bety suasion, that whether you did or did not (and I believe ing. You then add, “ What can the critic sar." that you did not) receive the said moneys, of which I I am sure I don't know; at present he says very bite wish that he had specified the sum, you are quite and that not much to the purpose. Then comes, * ft right in denying all knowledge of the transaction. praise, as far as regards the poetry, many passages If charges of this nefarious description are to go forth, might be exhibited: for condemnation, as far as to sanctioned by all the solemnity of circumstance, and gards the morality, all." Now, my dear goods guaranteed by the veracity of verse (as Counsellor Roberts, I feel for you, and for your reputation : Phillips (3) would say), what is to become of readers, heart bleeds for both ; and I do ask you, whether i hitherto implicitly confident in the not less veracious not such language does not come positively under prose of our critical journals? What is to become of description of the puff collusive," for which see 33 the reviews ? And, if the reviews fail, what is to ridan's farce of The Critic (by the way, a little bit become of the editors? It is common cause, and you facetious than your own farce under the same llega have done well to sound the alarm. I myself, in my towards the close of scene second, act the first humble sphere, will be one of your echoes. In the The poem is, it seems, sold as the work of Lord words of the tragedian Liston, “ I love a row," and you Byron ; but you feel yourself " at liberty to suppose seem justly deterinined to make one.
it not Lord B.'s composition. Why did you ever It is barely possible, certainly improbable, that the suppose that it was ? I approve of your indignation writer might have been in jest; but this only aggra I applaud it I feel as angry as you can; bat pertap vates his crime. A joke, the proverb says, “breaks your virtuous wrath carries you a little too far, wica
he is i
(1) "Bologna, Aug. 23, 1819. I send you a letter to Ro. berts, signed ' Wortley Clutterbuck,' which you may publish in what form you please, in answer to his article. I have had many proofs of men's absurdity, but he beats all in folly. Why, the wolf in sheep's clothing has tumbled into the very trap!"- Lord B. to Mr. Murray.-L.E.
(2) Mr. Roberts is not, as Lord Byron seems to have supposed, a clergyman, but a barrister-at-law. In 1792, he
established a paper called The Looker-on, which bessert
(3) Charles Philips, barrister, was in those days celer for ultra-Irish eloquence. See the Edinburgh Rettes, vii.-L.E.
. Lord B. tom. Ps clothing has the beats all in fave
you say that “no misdemeanour, not even that of send- nuation might derive from the circumstance of your ing into the world obscene and blasphemous poetry, wearing a gown, as well as from your time of life, the product of studious lewdness and laboured impiety, your general style, and various passages of your writappears to you in so detestable a light as the accept- ings,- I will take upon myself to exculpate you from ance of a present by the editor of a review, as the all suspicion of the kind, and assert, without calling condition of praising an author.” The devil it does | Mrs. Roberts in testimony, that if ever you should be n't!- Think a little. This is being critical overmuch. chosen pope, you will pass through all the previous In point of Gentile benevolence or Christian charity, | ceremonies with as much credit as any pontiff since it were surely less criminal to praise for a bribe, than the parturition of Joan. It is very unfair to judge to abuse a fellow-creature for nothing; and as to the of sex from writings, particularly from those of the assertion of the comparative innocence of blasphemy British Review. We are all liable to be deceived; and obscenity, confronted with an editor's “ acceptance and it is an indisputable fact, that many of the best of a present," I shall merely observe, that as an Editor articles in your journal, which were attributed to a you say very well, but, as a Christian divine, I would veteran female, were actually written by you yourself: not recommend you to transpose this sentence into a and yet to this day there are people who could never sermon.
find out the difference. But let us return to the more And yet you say, “the miserable man (for miser immediate question. able he is, as having a soul of which he cannot get I agree with you, that it is impossible Lord Byron rid)" -- But here I must pause again, and inquire should be the author, not only because, as a British what is the meaning of this parenthesis? We have peer and a British poet, it would be impracticable for heard of people of " little soul,” or of “ no soul at all," him to have recourse to such facetious fiction, but for but never till now of “the misery of having a soul of some other reasons which you have omitted to state. which we cannot get rid;" a misery under which you In the first place, his Lordship has no grandmother. are possibly no great sufferer, having got rid apparent Now, the author – and we may believe him in this ly of some of the intellectual part of your own when - doth expressly state that the British is his “Grandyou penned this pretty piece of eloquence.
mother's Review;" and if, as I think I have disBut to continue. You call upon Lord Byron, al- tinctly proved, this was not a mere figurative allusion ways supposing him not the author, to disclaim “ with to your supposed intellectual age and sex, my dear all gentlemanly haste," etc. etc. I am told that Lord friend, it follows, whether you be she or no, that there Bis in a foreign country, some thousand miles off it is such an elderly lady still extant. And I can the may be; so that it will be difficult for him to hurry more readily credit this having a sexagenary aunt of to your wishes. In the mean time, perhaps you your my own, who perused you constantly, till unfortunately self have set an example of more haste than gentility; falling asleep over the leading article of your last numbut “the more haste the worse speed."
ber, her spectacles fell off and were broken against the Let us now look at the charge itself, my dear Ro- fender, after a faithful service of fifteen years, and berts, which appears to me to be in some degree not she has never been able to fit her eyes since; so that quite explicitly worded :
I have been forced to read you aloud to her; and this “I bribed my Grandmother's Review, the British."
is in fact the way in which I became acquainted with
the subject of my present letter, and thus determined I recollect hearing, soon after the publication, this to become your public correspondent. subject discussed at the tea-table of Mr. Sotheby the In the next place, Lord B.'s destiny seems in some poet, who expressed himself, I remember, a good deal sort like that of Hercules of old, who became the author siurprised that you had never reviewed his epic poem of all unappropriated prodigies. Lord B. has been of Saul, nor any of his six tragedies ; of which, in one supposed the author of the Vampire, of a Pilgrimage instance, the bad taste of the pit, and, in all the rest, to Jerusalem, To the Dead Sea, of Death upon the the barbarous repugnance of the principal actors, pre- | Pale horse, of odes to La Valette, to Saint Helena, Fented the performance. Mrs. and the Misses S. to the Land of the Gaul, and to a sucking-child. being in a corner of the room, perusing the proof- Now, he turned out to have written none of these things. sheets of Mr. S.'s poems in Italy, or on Italy, as he Besides, you say, he knows in what a spirit of, etc. says (I wish, by the by, Mrs. S. would make the tea you criticise:- Are you sure he knows all this ? that a little stronger), the male part of the conversazione he has read you, like my poor dear aunt? They tell were at liberty to make a few observations on the me he is a queer sort of a man; and I would not be poem and passage in question; and there was a dif too sure, if I were you, either of what he has read or ference of opinion. Some thought the allusion was of what he has written. I thought his style had been to the British Critic;(1) others, that by the expres the serious and terrible. As to his sending you money, sion, “My Grandmother's Review,” it was intimated this is the first time that ever I heard of his paying that my grandmother” was not the reader of the his reviewers in that coin ; I thought it was rather in review, but actually the writer; thereby insinuating, their own, to judge from some of his earlier producmy dear Roberts, that you were an old woman; be tions. Besides, though he may not be profuse in his cause, as people often say, “Jeffrey's Review," " Gif- | expenditure, I should conjecture that his reviewer's ford's Review,” in lieu of Edinburgh and Quarterly; bill is not so long as bis tailor's. 80" my Grandmother's Review” and Roberts's might Shall I give you what I think a prudent opinion ? be also synonymous. Now, whatever colour this insi- I don't mean to insinuate, God forbid! but if, by any accident, there should have been such a correspond P.S.-My letter is too long to revise, and the post is ence between you and the unknown author, whoever going. I forget whether or not I asked you the meat he may be, send him back his money: I dare say he ing of your last words "the forgery of a groundless will be very glad to have it again; it can't be much, fiction." Now, as all forgery is fiction, and all fictis considering the value of the article and the circulation a kind of forgery, is not this tautological? The sa of the journal ; and you are too modest to rate your tence would have ended more strongly with “forgery;" praise beyond its real worth.—Don't be angry, -1 only, it hath an awful Bank of England sound, and know you won't, -at this appraisement of your pow. would have ended like an indictment, besides sparir ers of eulogy; for on the other hand, my dear friend, you several words, and conferring some meaning depend upon it your abuse is worth, not its own weight, upon the remainder. But this is mere verbal criticism.
“Whether it be the British Critic or the British Review, I public paper, to make a serious reply. As we are not so against which the noble lord prefers so grave a charge, or seriously inclined, we shall leave our share of this accusation ther so tacetious an accusation, we are at a loss to de- to its fate."
to its fate." brit. CNC.
Brit. Critic.-L.E. termine. The latter has thought it worth its while, in a
- that's a feather, — but your weight in gold. So Good-bye-- once more, yours truly, W.C. don't spare it: if he has bargained for that, give it
P.S. 2d. - Is it true that the Saints make up the handsomely, and depend upon your doing him a
loss of the Review?- It is very handsome in them to friendly office. But I only speak in case of possibility; for, as I
be at so great an expense. Twice more, yours,
W.C. said before, I cannot believe, in the first instance, that you would receive a bribe to praise any person whatever; and still less can I believe, that your praise
SOME OBSERVATIONS could ever produce such an offer. You are a good UPON AN ARTICLE IN BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE, creature, my dear Roberts, and a clever fellow, else
No. XXIX. AUGUST, 1819. I could almost suspect that you had fallen into the very trap set for you in verse by this anonymous wag, "Why, how now, Hecate, you look angrily." —Macbeti. who will certainly be but too happy to see you saving
(See "Testimonies of Authors," No. XVII, antè, p. 782 him the trouble of making you ridiculous. The fact is, that the solemnity of your eleventh article does make you look a little more absurd than you ever yet
TO I. D'ISRAELI, ESQ. looked, in all probability, and at the same time, does
TRE AMIABLE AND INGENIOUS AUTHOR OF no good; for if any body believed before in the octave
W THE CALAMITIES” AND “ QUARRELS OF AUTHORS;" stanzas, they will believe still, and you will find it not less difficult to prove your negative, than the learned
THIS ADDITIONAL QUARREL AND CALAMITY Partridge found it to demonstrate his not being dead,
IS INSCRIBED BY to the satisfaction of the readers of almanacks.
ONE OF TUE NUMBER. What the motives of this writer may have been for (as you magnificently translate his quizzing you) * stating, with the particularity which belongs to fact,
RATENXA, March 15, 1890. the forgery of a groundless fiction,” (do, pray, my dear «The life of a writer” has been said, by Pope, R., talk a little less "in King Cambyses vein,”) i believe, to be “a warfare upon earth." As far as cannot pretend to say; perhaps to laugh at you, but my own experience has gone, I have nothing to sur that is no reason for your benevolently making all against the proposition; and, like the rest, having ance the world laugh also. I approve of your being angry; plunged into this state of hostility, must, howet I tell you I am angry too; but you should not have reluctantly, carry it on. An article has appeared in shown it so outrageously. Your solemn “if some- a periodical work, entitled " Remarks on Don Juan," body personating the Editor of the, etc. etc. has re- which has been so full of this spirit, on the part de ceived from Lord B. or from any other person,” reminds the writer, as to require some observations on miet. me of Charley Incledon's usual exordium when people In the first place, I am not aware by what night came into the tavern to hear him sing without paying the writer assumes this work, which is anonymous, their share of the reckoning:-"If a maun, or ony | be my production. He will answer, that there is no maun, or ony other maun," etc. etc.; you have both ternal evidence; that is to say, that there are passara the same redundant eloquence. But why should you which appear to be written in my name, or in! think any body would personate you? Nobody would manner. But might not this have been done on par dream of such a prank who ever read your compositions, pose by another? He will say, why not then deny | and perhaps not many who have heard your conversa To this I could answer, that of all the things attrition. But I bave been inoculated with a little of your | buted to me within the last five years, --Pilgrimagens prolixity. The fact is, my dear Roberts, that some to Jerusalem, Deaths upon Pale Horses, Odes to the body has tried to make a fool of you, and what he did Land of the Gaul, Adieus to England, Songs le not succeed in doing, you have done for him and for damc La Valette, Odes to St. Helena, Vampires, and yourself.
what not,--of which, God knows, I never compused With regard to the poem itself, or the author, whom nor read a syllable beyond their titles in advertise I cannot find out, (can you?) I have nothing to say; | ments,--I never thought it worth while to disavow my business is with you. I am sure that you will, / any, except one which came linked with an account upon second thoughts, be really obliged to me for the l of my Residence in the Isle of Mitylene, where I meru intention of this letter, however far short my expres | resided, and appeared to be carrying the amuseme sions may have fallen of the sincere goodwill, admi | of those persons, who think my name can be of aby ration, and thorough esteem, with which I am ever, my use to them, a little too far. dear Roberts,
I should hardly, therefore, if I did not take the troete Most truly yours,
to disavow these things published in my name, is Sept. 4th, 1819, WORTLEY CLUTTERBUCK.
yet not mine, go out of my way to deny an anonymous Little Piddlington.
work; which might appear an act of supererogalke
With regard to Don Juan, I neither deny nor admit dregs, were resolved to show us that he is no longer it to be mine-every body may form their own opinion; a human being even in his frailties,-but a cool unbut, if there be any who now, or in the progress of concerned fiend, laughing with a detestable glee over that poem, if it is to be continued, feel, or should feel the whole of the better and worse elements of which themselves so aggrieved as to require a more explicit human life is composed." In another place there apanswer, privately and personally, they shall have it. pears, "the lurking-place of his selfish and polluted
I have never shrunk from the responsibility of what exile." -"By my troth, these be bitter words!" I have written, and have more than once incurred ob | With regard to the first sentence, I shall content myoquy by neglecting to disavow what was attributed self with observing, that it appears to have been comlo my pen without foundation.
posed for Sardanapalus, Tiberius, the Regent Duke of The greater part, however, of the “Remarks on | Orleans, or Louis XV.; and that I have copied it Don Juan” contain but little on the work itself, with as much indifference as I would a passage from which receives an extraordinary portion of praise as Suetonius, or from any of the private memoirs of the i composition. With the exception of some quota regency, conceiving it to be amply refuted by the terms lions, and a few incidental remarks, the rest of the in which it is expressed, and to be utterly inapplitrticle is neither more nor less than a personal attack cable to any private individual. On the words, “lurkipon the imputed author. It is not the first in the ing-place,” and “selfish and polluted exile,” I have ame publication : for I recollect to have read, some something more to say. How far the capital city ime ago, similar remarks upon Beppo (said to have of a government, which survived the vicissitudes of been written by a celebrated northern preacher); in thirteen hundred years, and might still have existed which the conclusion drawn was, that “Childe Ha- | but for the treachery of Bonaparte, and the iniquity fold, Byron, and the Count in Beppo, were one and of his imitators,-a city, which was the emporium of he same person;" thereby making me turn out to be, Europe when London and Edinburgh were dens of is Mrs. Malaprop(1) says, “like Cerberus, three barbarians,-may be termed "a lurking-place," I leave pentlemen at once." That article was signed" Pres to those who have seen or heard of Venice to decide. byter Anglicanus;" which, I presume, being inter How far my exile may have been "polluted,” it is not preted, means Scotch Presbyterian.(2) I must here for me to say, because the word is a wide one, and, Ibserve, and it is at once ludicrous and vexatious to with some of its branches, may chance to overshadow le compelled so frequently to repeat the same thing, the actions of most men; but that it has been “self-that my case, as an author, is peculiarly hard, in ish” I deny. If, to the extent of my means and my being everlastingly taken, or mistaken, for my own | power, and my information of their calamities, to have protagonist. It is unjust and particular. I never assisted many miserable beings, reduced by the decay heard that my friend Moore was set down for a fire of the place of their birth, and their consequent loss worshipper on account of his Guebre; that Scott was of substance-if to have never rejected an application dentified with Roderick Dhu, or with Balfour of Bur- which appeared founded on truth-if to have expended by; or that, notwithstanding all the magicians in in this manner sums far out of proportion to my forThalaba, any body has ever taken Mr. Southey for a tune, there and elsewhere, be selfish, then have I been vnjuror; whereas I have had some difficulty in ex- selfish. To have done such things I do not deem ricating me even from Manfred, who, as Mr. Southey much; but it is hard indeed to be compelled to recafily observes in one of his articles in the Quarterly, pitulate them in my own defence, by such accusations met the devil on the Jungfrau, and bullied him:"(3) as that before me, like a panel before a jury calling And I answer Mr. Southey, who has apparently, in testimonies to his character, or a soldier recording his s poetical life, not been so successful against the services to obtain his discharge. If the person who reat enemy, that, in this, Manfred exactly followed | has made the charge of "selfishness" wishes to inhe sacred precept,-“Resist the devil, and he will form himself further on the subject, he may acquire, lee from you.”_I shall have more to say on the sub not what he would wish to find, but what will silence part of this person--not the devil, but his most humble and shame him, by applying to the Consul-General of ervant, Mr. Southey--before I conclude; but, for the our nation, resident in the place, who will be in the resent, J must return to the article in the Edinburgh case either to confirm or deny what I have asserted. (4) lagazine.
I neither make, nor have ever made, pretensions to In the course of this article, amidst some extraor- | sanctity of demeanour, nor regularity of conduct; but inary observations, there occur the following words: my means have been expended principally on my own -“It appears, in short, as if this miserable man, gratification neither now nor heretofore, neither in iving exhausted every species of sensual gratification, England nor out of it; and it wants but a word from -having drained the cup of sin even to its bitterest me, if I thought that word decent or necessary, to call
(1) In Sheridan's comedy of The Rivals.-L.E.
I. Ixi, p. 366.), speaking incidentally of the Jungfrau, I ud, 'It was the scene where Lord Byron's Manfred met the Wil, and bullied him-though the devil must have won his fase before any tribunal in this world, or the next, if he
not pleaded more feebly for himself than his advocate, a cause of canonisation, ever pleaded for him.'” Southey.
and he was most unostentatious in his charities; for, besides considerable sums which he gave away to applicants at his own house, he contributed largely, by weekly, and monthly allowances, to persons whom he had never seen and who, as the money reached them by other hands, did not eveu know who was their benefactor." Hoppner.-L. E.
Mr. Galt mentions the following instance of Byron's generosity at Venice :-" The house of a shoemaker near his Lordship's residence in St. Samuel was burnt to the ground, with all it contained, by which the proprietor was reduced to indigence. Byron not only caused a new and superior house to be erected, but also presented the sufferer with a sum of money equal in value to the whole of his stock-intrade and furniture."-P.E.
" "Lord Byron was ever ready to assist the distressed,