ments; and the following verses are said to have dropped from his pen to excuse a transient expression of melancholy which overclouded the general gaiety. « When from the heart where Sorrow sits, And clouds the brow, or fills the eye- And bleed within their silent cell.» It was impossible to notice a dejection belonging neither to the rank, the age, nor the success of this young nobleman, without feeling an indefinable curiosity to ascertain whether it had a deeper cause than habit or constitutional temperament. It was obviously of a degree incalculably more serious than that alluded to by Prince Arthur some distance at the time, but, on learning who he was, His Royal Highness sent a gentleman to him to desire that he would be presented. Of course the presentation took place; the Regent expressed his admiration of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, and entered into a conversation which so fascinated the poet, that had it not been for an accident which deferred a levee intended to have been held the next day, he would have gone to court. Soon after, however, an unfortunate influence counteracted the effect of royal praise, and Lord Byron permitted himself to write and speak disrespectfully of the prince. The whole of Byron's political career may be summed up in the following anecdotes: On The Earl of Carlisle having declined to introduce Lord Byron to the House of Peers, he resolved to introduce himself, and accordingly went there a little before the usual hour, when he knew few of the lords would be present. entering he appeared rather abashed and looked very pale, but passing the woolsack, where the Chancellor (Lord Eldon) was engaged in some of the ordinary routine of the house, he went directly to the table, where the oaths were administered to him in the usual manner. Lord Chancellor then approached, and offered his hand in the most open familiar manner, con The seat. Lord Byron only placed the tips of his fingers in the Chancellor's hand; the latter returned to his seat, and Byron, after lounging a few minutes on one of the opposition benches, retired. To his friend, Mr Dallas, who followed him out, he gave as a reason for not entering into the spirit of the Chancellor, « that it might have been supposed he would join the court party, whereas he intended to have nothing at all to do with politics." I remember when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Only for wantonnessBut howsoever derived, this, joined to Lord Byron's air of mingling in amusements and sports as if he contemned them, and felt that his sphere was far above the fashionable and frivolous crowd which surrounded him, gave a strong ef-gratulating him on his taking possession of his fect of colouring to a character whose tints were otherwise decidedly romantic. Noble and far descended, the pilgrim of distant and savage countries, eminent as a poet among the first whom Britain has produced, and having besides cast around him a mysterious charm arising from the sombre tone of his poetry, and the occasional melancholy of his deportment, Lord Byron occupied the eyes, and interested the feelings of all. The enthusiastic looked on him to admire, the serious with a wish to admonish, and the soft with a desire to console. Even literary envy, a base sensation, from which, perhaps, this age is more free than any other, forgave the man whose splendour dimmed the fame of his competitors. The generosity of Lord Byron's disposition, his readiness to assist merit in distress, and to bring it forward where unknown, deserved and obtained general regard; while his poetical effusions, pour-others say, they gathered round him while speaked forth with equal force and fertility, showed at once a daring confidence in his own powers, and a determination to maintain, by continued effort, the high place he had attained in British lite rature. At one of the fashionable parties where the noble bard was present, His Majesty, then Priuce Regent, entered the room: Lord Byron was at He only addressed the house three times the first of his speeches was on the Frame-work Bill; the second in favour of the Catholic claims which gave good hopes of his becoming an orator; and the other related to a petition of Major Cartwright. Byron himself says, the Lords told him « his manner was not dignified enough for them, and would better suit the lower house; » ing, listening with the greatest attention—a sign at any rate that he was interesting. He always voted with the opposition, but evinced no likelihood of becoming the blind partisan of either side. The following is a pleasing instance of the generosity, the delicacy, and the unwounding bene volence of Byron's niture: A young lady of considerable talents, but who had never been able to succeed in turning them to any profitable account, was reduced to great hardships through the misfortunes of her fady. The only persons from whom she could nave hoped for relief were abroad, and so urged on, more by the sufferings of those she held dear than by her own, she summoned up resoIntion to wait on Lord Byron at his apartments in the Albany, and ask his subscription to a I volume of poems; she had no previous knowledge of him except from his works, but from the boldness and feeling expressed in them, she concluded that he must be a man of kind heart and amiable disposition. Experience did not disappoint her, and though she entered the apartment with faltering steps and a palpitating beart, she soon found courage to state her request, which she did in the most simple and delicate manner: he heard it with the most marked attention and the keenest sympathy; and when she had ceased speaking, he, as if to avert her thoughts from a subject which could not be bat painful to her, began to converse in words 15 fascinating, and tones so gentle, that she Early perceived he had been writing, until he pat a folded slip of paper into her hand, saying it was his subscription, and that he most heartily wished her success: but, added he, ❝ we are both young, and the world is very censorious, and so if I were to take any active part in procuring subscribers to your poems, I fear it would do you harm rather than good. The young lady, overpowered by the prudence and delicacy of his conduct, took her leave, and upon opening in the street the paper, which in her agitation she had not previously looked at, she found it was a draft upon his banker for fifty pounds! The enmity that Byron entertained towards the Earl of Carlisle was owing to two causes: the earl had spoken rather irreverently of the Hours of Idleness, when Byron expected, as a relation, that he would have countenanced it. He had moreover refused to introduce his kiusman to the House of Lords, even, it is said, somewhat doubting his right to a seat in that | honourable house. The Earl of Carlisle was a great admirer of Í the classic drama, and once published a sixpenny pamphlet, in which he strenuously argued in behalf of the propriety and necessity of small theatres: on the same day that this weighty publication appeared, he subscribed a thousand pounds for some public purpose. On this occasion Byron enposed the following epigram: Carlisle subscribes a thousand pound And for a sixpence circles round Byron retained his antipathy to this relative to the last. On reading some lines in the newspapers addressed to Lady Holland by the Earl of Carlisle, persuading her to reject the snuff-box bequeathed to her by Napoleon, beginning: He « Lady, reject the gift,» etc. immediately wrote the following parody: «Lady, accept the gift a hero wore, In spite of all this elegiac stuff: Let not seven stanzas written by a bore Prevent your ladyship from taking souff.» Sir Lumley Skeffington had written a tragedy, called, if we remember right, «The Mysterious Bride,» which was fairly damned on the first night: a masquerade took place soon after this fatal catastrophe, to which went John Cam Hobhouse as a Spanish nun who had been ravished by the French army, and was under the protection of his lordship. Skeffington,compassionating the unfortunate young woman, asked, in a very sentimental manThe Mysterious ner, of Byron, who is she?» Bride," replied his lordship. On Byron's return from his first tour, Mr Dallas called upon him, and, after the usual salutations had passed, enquired if he was prepared with any other work to support the fame which he had already acquired. Byron then delivered for his examination a poem, entitled Hints from Horace," being a paraphrase of the art of poetry. tion of this piece as he had done that of the Mr Dallas promised to superintend the publicasatire, and accordingly it was carried to Cawthorn the bookseller, and matters arranged; but Mr Dallas, not thinking the poem likely to increase his lordship's reputation, allowed it to linger in press. It began thus: the « Who would not laugh if Lawrence, hired to grace Mr Dallas expressed his sorrow that his lordship had written nothing else. Byron then told him that he had occasionally composed some verses in Spenser's measure, relative to the countries he at which several persons had been engaged digging, fell in, and buried some of them alive: he was at dinner when he heard of the accident, and, starting up from the table, ran to the spot, accompanied by his physician, who took a supply of medicines with him. The labourers who were employed to extricate their companions, soon became alarmed for themselves, and refused to go on, saying, they believed they had dug out all the bodies which had been covered by the ruins. Lord Byron endeavoured to induce them to continue their exertions, but finding menaces had visited. They are not worth troubling you with," said his lordship, but you shall have them all with you: he then took Childe Harold's Pilgrimage» from a trunk, and delivered it to him. Mr Dallas having read the poem, was in raptures with it; he instantly resolved to do his utmost in suppressing the Hints from Horace, and to bring out Childe Harold. He urged Byron to publish this last poem; but he was unwilling, and preferred to have the Hints" published. He would not be convinced of the great merit of the Childe, and as some person had seen it before Mr Dallas, and ex-in vain, he seized a spade and began to dig most pressed disapprobation, Byron was by no means zealously; at length the peasantry joined him, sure of its kind reception by the world. In a and they succeeded in saving two more persons short time afterwards, however, he agreed to its from certain death. publication, and requested Mr Dallas not to deal with Cawthorn, but offer it to Miller of Albemarle Street he wished a fashionable publisher; but Miller declined it, chiefly on account of the strictures it contained on Lord Elgin, whose publisher he was. Longman had refused to publish the Satire, and Byron would not suffer any of his works to come from that house: the work was therefore carried to Mr Murray, who then kept a shop opposite St Dunstan's church in Fleet Street. Mr Murray had expressed a desire to publish for Lord Byron, and regretted that Mr Dallas had not taken the « English Bards and Scotch Reviewers» to him; but this was after its success. It is stated in the Conversations," that Byron was engaged in several duels,-that in one instance he was himself principal in an « affair of honour » with Hobhouse,—and would have been so in another with Moore, if the Bard of Erin's challenge had been properly forwarded to him. On the 2d of January, 1815, Lord Byron married, at Seaham, in the county of Durham, Anne Isabella, only daughter of Sir Ralph Millbank (since Noel), Bart. To this lady he had made a proposal twelve months before, but was rejected; well would it have been for their mutual happiness had that rejection been repeated. After their marriage Lord and Lady Byron took a house in London; gave splendid dinner-parByron fell into company with Hogg, the Et-ties; kept separate carriages; and, in short, trick Shepherd, at the Lakes. The Shepherd was standing at the inn door of Ambleside when, forth came a strapping young man from the house, and off with his hat, and out with his hand. Hogg did not know him, and, appearing at a dead halt, the other relieved him by saying, « Mr | Hogg, I hope you will excuse me; my name is Byron, and I cannot help thinking that we ought to hold ourselves acquainted. The poets accordingly shook hands immediately, and, while they continued at the Lakes, were hand and glove, drank furiously together, and laughed at their brother bards. On Byron's leaving the Lakes, he sent Hogg a letter quizzing the Lakists, which the Shepherd was so mischievous as to show to them. When residing at Mitylene in the year 1812, he portioned eight young girls very liberally, and even danced with them at the marriage feast; he gave a cow to one man, horses to another, and cotton and silk to several girls who lived by weaving these materials: he also bought a new boat for a fisherman who had lost his own in a gale, and he often gave Greek testaments to the poor children. While at Metaxata, in 1823, an embankment, launched into every sort of fashionable extravagance. This could not last long; the portion which his lordship had received with Miss Millbank (ten thousand pounds) soon melted away; and, at length, an execution was actually levied on the furniture of his residence. It was then agreed that Lady Byron, who on the 10th of December, 1815, had presented her lord with a daughter, should pay a visit to her father till the storm was blown over, and some arrangements had been made with their creditors. From that visit she never returned, and a separation ensued, for which various reasons have been assigned; the real cause or causes, however, of that regretted event, are up to this moment involved in mystery, though, as might be expected, a wonderful sensation was excited at the time, and every description of contradictory rumour was in active circulation. Byron was first introduced to Miss Millbank at Lady's. In going up stairs he stumbled, and remarked to Moore, who accompanied him, that it was a bad omen; on entering the room, he perceived a lady more simply dressed than the rest sitting on a sofa. He asked Moore if she was a humble companion to any of the ladies. The latter replied, « She is a great heiress; you'd There is a singular history attached to the better marry her, and repair the old place New-ring; the very day the match was concluded, a stead.. The following anecdotes on the subject of this unfortunate marriage are given from Lord Byron's Conversations, in his own words: ring of my mother's that had been lost was dug up by the gardener at Newstead. I thought it was sent on purpose for the wedding; but my mother's marriage had not been a fortunate one, and this ring was doomed to be the seal of an unhappier union still. « After the ordeal was over, we set off for a country seat of Sir Ralph's, and I was surprised at the arrangements for the journey, and somewhat out of humour to find a lady's maid stuck between me and my bride. It was rather too early to assume the husband, so I was forced to submit, but it was not with a very good grace. . There was something piquant, and what we term pretty, in Miss Millbank; her features were small and feminine, though not regular; she had the fairest skin imaginable; her figure was perfect for her height, and there was a simplicity, a retired modesty about her, which was very characteristic, and formed a happy contrast to the cold artificial formality and studied stiffness which is called fashion: she interested me exceedingly. It is unnecessary to detail the pro- I have been accused of saying, on getting gress of our acquaintance: I became daily more into the carriage, that I had married Lady Byron attached to her, and it ended in my making her out of spite, and because she had refused me a proposal that was rejected; her refusal was twice. Though I was for a moment vexed at her | couched in terms that could not offend me. I prudery, or whatever it may be called, if I had was besides persuaded that in declining my offer made so uncavalier, not to say brutal, a speech, she was governed by the influence of her mother; I and was the more confirmed in this opinion by her reviving our correspondence herself twelve months after. The tenor of her letter was, that although she could not love me, she desired my friendship. Friendship is a dangerous word for young ladies; it is love full-fledged, and waiting for a fine day to fly. a I was not so young when my father died, but that I perfectly remember him, and had very early a horror of matrimony from the sight of domestic broils; this feeling came over me very strongly at my wedding. Something whispered me that I was sealing my own death-warrant. I am a great believer in presentiments; Socrates' lemon was not a fiction; Monk Lewis had his monitor; and Napoleon many warnings. At the last moment I would have retreated if I could have done so; I called to mind a friend of mine, who had married a young, beautiful, and rich girl, and yet was miserable; he had strongly arged me against putting my neck in the same yoke and to show you how firmly I was resolved to attend to his advice, I betted Hay fifty guineas to one that I should always remain single. six years afterwards I sent him the money. The day before I proposed to Lady Byron, I had no idea of doing so. . It had been predicted by Mrs Williams, that twenty-seven was to be a dangerous age for me; the fortune-telling witch was right, it was destined to prove so. I shall never forget the 2d of January! Lady Byron (Byrn, he pronounced it was the only unconcerned person present, Lady Noel, her mother, cried; I trembled like a leaf, made the wrong responses, and after the ceremony called her Miss Millbank. am convinced Lady Byron would instantly have left the carriage to me and the maid (I mean the lady's); she had spirit enough to have done so, and would properly have resented the affront. « Our honey-moon was not all sunshine, it had its clouds; and Hobhouse has some letters which would serve to explain the rise and fall in the barometer; but it was never down at zero. A curious thing happened to me shortly after the honey-moon, which was very awkward at the time, but has since amused me much. It so happened that three married women were on a wedding visit to my wife (and in the same room at the same time), whom I had known to be all birds of the same nest. Fancy the scene of confusion that ensued. «The world says I married Miss Millbank for her fortune, because she was a great heiress. All I have ever received, or am likely to receive (and that has been twice paid back too), was 10,000l.; my own income at this period was small and somewhat bespoke. Newstead was a very unprofitable estate, and brought me in a bare 1500l. a year; the Lancashire property was hampered with a law-suit, which has cost me 14,000l. and is not yet finished. I heard afterwards that Mrs Charlment had been the means of poisoning Lady Noel's mind against me; that she had employed herself and others in watching me in London, and had reported having traced me into a house in Portland-Place. There was one act unworthy of any one but such a confidante; I allude to the breaking open my writing-desk: a book was found in it that did not do much credit to my taste in literature, and some letters from a mar her knowledge of mankind infallible. She had got some foolish idea of Madame de Stael's into her head, that a person may be better known in the first hour than in ten years. She had the habit of drawing people's characters after she had seen them once or twice. She wrote pages on pages about my character, but it was as unlike as possible. She was governed by what she called fixed rules and principles, squared mathe wrangler at Cambridge. It must be confessed, All ried woman with whom I had been intimate before my marriage. The use that was made of the latter was most unjustifiable, whatever may be thought of the breach of confidence that led to their discovery. Lady Byron sent them to the husband of the lady, who had the good sense to take no notice of their contents. The gravest accusation that has been made against me is that of having intrigued with Mrs Mardyn in my own house, introduced her to my own table, etc.;matically. She would have made an excellent there never was a more unfounded calumny. Being on the Committee of Drury-Lane Theatre, I have no doubt that several actresses called on me; but as to Mrs Mardyn, who was a beautiful woman, and might have been a dangerous visitress, I was scarcely acquainted (to speak) with her. I might even make a more serious charge against than employing spies to watch suspected amours. I had been shut up in a dark street in London writing The Siege of Corinth,' and had refused myself to every one till it was finished. I was surprised one day by a doctor and a lawyer almost forcing themselves at the same time into my room; I did not know till afterwards the real object of their visit. I thought their questions singular, frivolous, and somewhat importunate, if not impertinent; but what should I have thought if I had known that they were sent to provide proofs of my insanity? I have no doubt that my answers to these emis-abandoned and wicked of men; and my wife as saries' interrogations were not very rational or consistent, for my imagination was heated by other things; but Dr Baillie could not conscientiously make me out a certificate for Bedlam, and perhaps the lawyer gave a more favourable report to his employers. The doctor said after-the theatre, whence the unfortunate Mrs Mardyn wards he had been told that I always looked down when Lady Byron bent her eyes on me, and exhibited other symptoms equally infallible, particularly those that marked the late kng's case so strongly. I do not, however, tax Lady Byron with this transaction: probably she was In addition to all these mortifications, my not privy to it; she was the tool of others. affairs were irretrievably involved, and almost Her mother always detested me, she had not so as to make me what they wished. I was comeven the decency to conceal it in her own house.pelled to part with Newstead, which I never Dining one day at Sir Ralph's (who was a good sort of man, and of whom you may form some idea, when I tell you that a leg of mutton was always served at his table, that he might cut the same joke upon it), I broke a tooth, and was in great pain, which I could not avoid showing. It will do you good,' said Lady Noel; I am glad of it! I gave her a look! Lady Byron had good ideas, but could never express them; wrote poetry too, but it was only good by accident; her letters were always enigmatical, often unintelligible. She was easily made the dupe of the designing, for she thought a suffering angel, an incarnation of all the virtues and perfections of the sex. I was abused in the public prints, made the common talk of private companies, hissed as I went to the House of Lords, insulted in the streets, afraid to go to had been driven with insult. The Examiner was the only paper that dared say a word in my defence, and Lady Jersey the only person in the fashionable world that did not look upon me as a monster." could have ventured to sell in my mother's lifetime. As it is, I shall never forgive myself for having done so, though I am told that the estate would not now bring half as much as I got for it: this does not at all reconcile me to having parted with the old Abbey. I did not make up my mind to this step but from the last necessity; I had my wife's portion to repay, and was determined to add ro,oool. more of my own to it, which I did: I always hated being in debt, and do not owe a guinea., The moment I had put my affairs in train, and in little more than eighteen months after my marriage, I left Eng |