being, the mysteries of the framing of man. They have gone down into those depths which every man may sound for himself, though not for another; and they have made disclosures to the world of what they beheld and knew there-disclosures that have commanded and forced a profound and universal sympathy, by proving that all mankind, the troubled and the untroubled, the lofty and the low, the strongest and the frailest, are linked together by the bonds of a common but inscrutable nature.

with rapturous admiration, sometimes with re-
gret, but always with the deepest interest.»-Yet
the impression of his works still remains vivid
and strong. The charm which cannot pass away
is there, life breathing in dead words, — the
stern grandeur-the intense power and energy-
the fresh beauty, the undimmed lustre—the im-
mortal bloom, and verdure, and fragrance of life,
all those still are there. But it was not in these
alone, it was in that continual impersonation of
himself in his writings, by which he was for ever

Thus, each of these wayward and richly-gifted | kept brightly before the eyes of men.
spirits has made himself the object of profound
interest to the world, and that too during pe-
riods of society when ample food was every where
spread abroad for the meditations and passions of

men.

"

Although of widely dissimilar fortunes and birth, a close resemblance in their passions and their genius may be traced too between Byron and Robert Burns. Their careers were short and glorious, and they both perished in the rich summer of their life and song," and in all the splendour of a reputation more likely to increase than diminish. One was a peasant, and the other was a peer; but nature is a great leveller, and makes amends for the injuries of fortune by the richness of her benefactions: the genius of Burns raised him to a level with the nobles of the land; by nature, if not by birth, he was the peer of Byron. They both rose by the force of their genius, and both fell by the strength of their passions; one wrote from a love, and the other from a scorn of mankind; and they both sung of the emotions of their own hearts with a vehemence and an originality which few have equalled, and none surely have surpassed.

It might, at first, seem that his undisguised revelation of feelings and passions, which the becoming pride of human nature, jealous of its own dignity, would in general desire to hold in unviolated silence, could have produced in the public mind only pity, sorrow, or repugnance. But in the case of men of real genius, like Byron, it is otherwise: they are not felt, while we read, as declarations published to the world, but almost as secrets whispered to chosen ears. Who is there that feels for a moment, that the voice which reaches the inmost recesses of his heart is speaking to the careless multitudes around him? Or if we do so remember, the words seem to pass by others like air, and to find their way to the hearts for whom they were intended; kindred and sympathetic spirits, who discern and own that secret language, of which the privacy is not violated, though spoken in hearing of the uninitiated, because it is not understood. A great poet may address the whole world in the language of intensest passion, concerning objects of which rather than speak face to face with any one human being on earth, he would perish in his misery. For it is in solitude The versatility of authors who have been able that he utters what is to be wafted by all the to draw and support characters as different from winds of heaven: there are, during his inspiraeach other as from their own, has given to their tion, present with him only the shadows of men. productions the inexpressible charm of variety, He is not daunted, or perplexed, or disturbed, and has often secured them from that neglect or repelled by real living breathing features. which in general attends what is technically called | He can updraw just as much of the curtain as mannerism. But it was reserved for Lord Byron he chouses that hangs between his own solitude (previous to his Don Juan) to present the same character on the public stage again and again, varied only by the exertions of that powerful genius, which, searching the springs of passion and of feeling in their innermost recesses, knew how to combine their operations, so that the interest was eternally varying, and never abated, although the most important person of the drama retained the same lincaments.

and the world of life. He there pours his soul out partly to himself alone; partly to the ideal abstractions and impersonated images that float around him at his own conjuration; and partly to human beings like himself, moving in the dark distance of the every-day world. He confesses himself, not before men, but before the spirit of humanity; and he thus fearlessly lays open his heart, assured that nature never prompted unto genius that which will not triumphantly force its wide way into the human heart.

We have admitted that Byron has depicted much of himself in all his heroes; but when we seem to see the poet shadowed out in all those states

for their extensive manors in Lancashire and other parts of the kingdom, but for their prowess in arms. John de Byron attended Edward the

of disordered being which his Childe Harolds, Giaours, Conrads, Laras, and Alps, exhibit, we are far from believing that his own mind has gone through those states of disorder, in its own ex-first in several warlike expeditions. Two of the perience of life. We merely conceive of it as Byrons fell at the battle of Cressy. Another having felt within itself the capacity of such member of the family, Sir John de Byron, rendisorders, and therefore exhibiting itself before dered good service in Bosworth field, to the Earl us in possibility. This is not general,—it is rare of Richmond; and contributed, by his valour, with great poets. Neither Homer, nor Shak- to transfer the crown from the head of Richard speare, nor Milton, ever so show themselves in the third to that of Henry the seventh. This the characters which they portray. Their poeti-Sir John was a man of honour, as well as a brave cal personages have no references to themselves; warrior. He was very intimate with his neighbat are distinct, independent creatures of their bour Sir Gervase Cliftou; and, although Byron minds, produced in the full freedom of intellec-fought under Henry, and Clifton under Richard, tual power. In Byron there does not seem this it did not diminish their friendship, but, on the freedom of power:-there is little appropriation contrary, put it to a severe test. Previous to the of character to events. Character is first, and battle, the prize of which was a kingdom, they all in all. It is dictated, compelled by some force had mutually promised that whichever of them in his own mind necessitating him,-and the was vanquished, the other should endeavour to events obey. His poems, therefore, excepting prevent the forfeiture of his friend's estate. While Don Juan, are not full and complete nar-Clifton was bravely fighting at the head of his rations of some one definite story, containing within itself a picture of human life. They are merely bold, confused, and turbulent exemplifications of certain sweeping energies and irresistible passions. They are fragments of a poet's dark dream of life. The very personages, vividly as they are pictured, are yet felt to be fictitious, and derive their chief power over us from their supposed mysterious connexion with the poet himself, and, it may be added, with each other. The law of his mind was to embody his peculiar feelings in the forms of other men. In all his heroes we accordingly recognise, though with infinite modifications, the same great characteristics: a high and audacious conception of the power of the mind,-an intense sensibility of passion,—an almost boundless capacity of tumultuous emotion,-a boasting admiration of the grandeur of disordered power, and, above all, a soul-felt, blood-felt delight in beauty;-a beauty, which, in his wild creation, is often scared away from the agitated surface of life by stormier passions, but which, like a bird of calm, is for ever returning, on its soft, silvery wings, ere the black swell has finally subsided into sunshine and peace.

troop, he was struck off his horse, which Byron perceiving, he quitted the ranks and ran to the relief of his friend, whom he shielded, but who died in his arms. Sir John de Byron kept his word; he interceded with the king: the estate was preserved to the Clifton family, and is now in the possession of a descendant of the gallant Sir Gervase.

In the wars between Charles the first and the parliament, the Byrons adhered to the royal cause. Sir Nicholas Byron, the eldest brother and représentative of the family, was an eminent loyalist, who, having distinguished himself in the wars of the Low Countries, was appointed governor of Chelsea in 1642. He had two sons, who both died without issue; and his younger brother, Sir John, became their heir. This person was made a knight of the Bath at the coronation of James the first. He had eleven sons, most of whom distinguished themselves for their loyalty and gallantry on the side of Charles the first. Seven of these brothers were engaged at the battle of Marston-moor, of whom four fell in defence of the royal cause. Sir John Byron, one of the survivors, was appointed to many important commands, and on the 26th of October, 1643, was created These reflexions naturally precede the sketch Lord Byron, with a collateral remainder to his we are about to attempt of Lord Byron's lite-brothers. On the decline of the king's affairs, rary and private life: indeed they are in a man- he was appointed governor to the Duke of York, ner forced upon us by his poetry, by the sentiments of weariness of existence and enmity with the world which it so frequently expresses, and by the singular analogy which such sentiments hold with the real incidents of his life.

and, in this office, died without issue, in France, in 1652;-upon which his brother Richard, a celebrated cavalier, became the second Lord Byron. He was governor of Appleby Castle, and distinguished himself at Newark. He died in Lord Byron was descended from an illustrious 1697, aged seventy-four, and was succeeded by line of ancestry. From the period of the con- his eldest son William, who married Elizabeth, quest his family were distinguished, not merely the daughter of John Viscount Chaworth, of

the kingdom of Ireland, by whom he had five sons, all of whom died young except William; whose eldest son, William, was born in 1722, and came to the title in 1736.

own rank, his unhappy temper found abundant exercise in continual war with his neighbours and tenants, and sufficient punishment in their hatred. One of his amusements was feeding crickets, which were his only companions. He had made them so tame as to crawl over him; and used to whip them with a wisp of straw, if too familiar. In this forlorn condition he lin

William, Lord Byron, passed the early part of his life in the navy. In 1763 he was made master of the stag hounds; and in 1765 was sent to the Tower, and tried before the House of Peers for killing his relation and neighbour, Mr Cha-gered out a long life, doing all in his power to worth, in a duel.-The following details of this ruin the paternal mansion for that other branch fatal event are peculiarly interesting from subse- of the family to which he was aware it must pass sequent circumstances connected with the sub- at his death, all his own children having descended ject of our sketch. before him to the grave.

John, the next brother to William, and born in the year after him, that is in 1723, was of a very different disposition, although his career in life was almost an unbroken scene of misfortunes. The hardships he endured while accompanying Commodore Anson in his expedition to the South Seas are well known, from his own highly popu

The old Lord Byron belonged to a club of which Mr Chaworth was also a member. It met at the Star and Garter tavern, Pall Mall, once a month, and was called the Nottinghamshire Club. On the 29th January, 1765, they met at four o'clock to dinner as usual, and every thing went agreeably on, until about seven o'clock, when a dispute arose betwixt Lord Byron and Mr Cha-lar and affecting narrative. His only son, born worth concerning the quantity of game on their in 1751, who received an excellent education, estates. The dispute rose to a high pitch, and and whose father procured for him a commission Mr Chaworth, having paid his share of the bill, in the guards, was so dissipated that he was retired. Lord Byron followed him out of the known by the name of «mad Jack Byron.» He room in which they had dined, and, stopping him was one of the handsomest men of his time; on the landing of the stairs, called to the waiter but his character was so notorious that his fato show them into an empty room. They were ther was obliged to desert him, aud his company shown into one, and a single candle being placed was shunned by the better part of society. In on the table,—in a few minutes the bell was rung, his twenty-seventh year he seduced the Marand Mr Chaworth found mortally wounded. He chioness of Carmarthen; who had been but a said that Lord Byron and he entered the room few years married to a husband with whom she together, Lord Byron leading the way; that his had lived in the most happy state, until she lordship, in walking forward, said something|formed this unfortunate connexion, After one relative to the former dispute, on which he pro- fruitless attempt at reclaiming his lady, the posed fastening the door; that on turning him- | marquis obtained a divorce; and a marriage was self round from this act, he perceived his lordship with his sword half drawn, or nearly so: on which, knowing his man, he instantly drew his own, and made a thrust at him, which he thought had wounded or killed him; that then, perceiving his lordship shorten his sword to return the thrust, he thought to have parried it with his left hand; that he felt the sword enter his body and go deep through his back; that he struggled, and being the stronger man, disarmed his lordship, and expressed a concern, as under the apprehension of having mortally wounded him; that Lord Byron replied by saying something to the like effect, adding at the same time, that he hoped he would now allow him to be as brave a man as any in the kingdom,

For this offence he was unanimously convicted of manslaughter, but, on being brought up for judgment, pleaded his privilege as a peer, and was, in consequence, discharged. After this affair he was abandoned by his relations, and retired to Newstead Abbey; where, though he lived

brought about between her and her seducer; which, after the most brutal conduct on his part, and the greatest misery and keenest remorse on hers, was dissolved in two years by her sinking to the grave, the victim of a broken heart. About three years subsequent, Captain Byron sought to recruit his fortunes by matrimony, and having made a conquest of Miss Catherine Gordon, an Aberdeenshire heiress, (lineally descended from the Earl of Huntley and the Princess Jane, daughter of James II. of Scotland) he united himself to her, ran through her property in a few years, and, leaving her and her only child, the subject of this memoir, in a destitute and defenceless state, fled to France to avoid his creditors, and died at Valenciennes, in 1791.

In Captain Medwin's « Conversations of Lord Byron, the following expressions are said to have fallen from his lordship on the subject of his unworthy father:

I lost my father when I was only six years in a state of perfect exile from persons of his of age. My mother, when she was in a rage

deur of nature around him; the feeling that he
was upon hills where

<< Foreign tyrant never trod,
But Freedom, with her falchion bright,
Swept the stranger from her sight;»

with me (and I gave her cause enough), used to say, Ah! you little dog, you are a Byron all over; you are as bad as your father!' It was very different from Mrs Malaprop's saying, 'Ah! good dear Mr Malaprop! I never loved him till he was dead" But, in fact, my father was, in his youth, his intercourse with a people whose chief amuseany thing but a Calebs in search of a wife.' He ments consisted in the recital of heroic tales of would have made a bad hero for Hannah More. other times, feats of strength, and a display of He ran out three fortunes, and married or ran independence, blended with the wild supernaaway with three women; and once wanted a gui-tural stories peculiar to remote and thinly-peonca, that he wrote for: I have the note. He seemed born for his own ruin, and that of the He began by seducing Lady Carmarthen, and spent for her four thousand pounds asear; and, not content with one adventure of this Lind, afterwards eloped with Miss Gordon. This marriage was not destined to be a very fortunate one either, and I don't wonder at her differing from Sheridan's widow in the play; they cerLauly could not have claimed 'the flitch.'»

other sex.

pled districts;-all these were calculated to foster that poetical feeling innate in his character.

When George was seven years of age, his mother sent him to the grammar-school at Aberdeen, where he remained till his removal to Harrow, with the exception of some intervals of absence, which were deemed requisite for the establishment of his health. His progress beyond that of the general run of his class-fellows was never so remarkable as after those occasional intervals, when, in a few days, he would master exercises which, in the school routine, it had required weeks to accomplish. But when he had overtaken the rest of the class he always relaxed his exertions, and, contenting himself with

George Byron Gordon (for so he was called on account of the neglect his father's family had shown to his mother) was born at Dover, on the 22d of January, 1788. On the unnatural desertion of las father, the entire care of his infant years devolved upon his mother, who retired to Aber-being considered a tolerable scholar, never made deen, where she lived in almost perfect seclusion, on the rains of her fortune. Her undivided affection was naturally concentred in her son, who was her darling; and when he only went out for an ordinary walk, she would entreat him, with the tear glistening in her eye, to take care of himself, as she had nothing on earth but huu to live for; a conduct not at all pleasing to his adventurous spirit; the more especially, as some of his companions, who witnessed the affectionate scene, would laugh and ridicule him about

any extraordinary effort to place himself at the head of the highest form. It was out of school that he aspired to be the leader of every thing; in all boyish games and amusements he would be first if possible. For this he was eminently calculated; quick, enterprising, and daring, the energy of his mind enabled him to overcome the impediments which nature had thrown in his way. Even at that early period (from eight to ten years of age), all his sports were of a manly character; fishing, shooting, swimming, and managing a horse, or steering and trimming the sails of a boat, constituted his chief delights, and, to the superficial observer, seemed his sole occupations.

He was exceedingly brave, and in the juvenile wars of the school, he generally gained the victory; upon one occasion a boy pursued by another took refuge in Mrs Byron's house: the latter, who had been much abused by the former, proceeded to take vengeance on him even on the landing-place of the drawing-room stairs, when George interposed in his defence, declaring that nobody should be ill-used while under his

This excessive maternal indulgence, and the absence of that salutary discipline and control, so necessary to childhood, doubtless contributed to the formation of the less pleasing features of Lord Byron's character. It must, however, be remembered, in Mrs Byron's extenuation, not only that the circumstances in which she had been left with her son were of a very peculiar nature, but also that a slight malformation of one of his feet, and great weakness of constitation, naturally solicited for him in the heart of a mother a more than ordinary portion of tenderness. For these latter reasons he was not sent very early to school, but was allowed to ex-roof and protection. Upon this the aggressor pand his lungs, and brace his limbs, upon the mountains of the neighbourhood. This was evidently the most judicious method for imparting strength to his bodily frame; and the sequel showed that it was far from the worst for giving tone and vigour to his mind. The savage gran- tirely exhausted.

dared him to fight, and, although the former was by much the stronger of the two, the spirit of young Byron was so determined, that after the combat had lasted for nearly two hours, it was suspended because both the boys were en