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however, gave me her picture, and that was miserable. I was both when I wrote the something to make verses upon. *

· Hours of Idleness ;' some of those poems, “ During the last year that I was at in spite of what the reviewers say, are as Harrow, all my thoughts were occupied on good as any I ever produced. this love-affair. I had, besides, a spirit For some years after the event that that ill brooked the restraints of school had so much influence on my fate, I tried discipline; for I had been encouraged by to drown the remembrance of it and her in servants in all my violence of temper, and the most depraving dissipation; but the was used to command. Every thing like a poison was in the cup.” task was repugnant to my nature; and I came away a very indifferent classic, and read in nothing that was useful. That indeed the birth of his poetry, though

If the death of his happiness was subordination, which is the soul of all dis- the world might be a gainer by his cipline, I submitted to with great difficulty ; yet I did submit to it: and I have always sufferings, one could not but lament retained a sense of Drury's kindness, which that so much enjoyment to us had enabled me to bear it and fagging too. The resulted from so much pain to him; Duke of Dorset was my fag. I was not a but (with Milton and several others very hard task-master.' There were times in our recollection) we have some in which, if I had not considered it as a doubts whether it be necessary for a school, I should have been happy at Har- man either to be in love or be miserow. There is one spot I should like to see rable to make him a poet. We are again : I was particularly delighted with also but little disposed to agree with the view from the Church-yard, and used the noble advocate of himself, when to sit for hours on the stile leading into the he asserts that the “ whole tenor of fields ;--even then I formed a wish to be buried there. Of all my schoolfellows, I his life would have been different know no one for whom I have retained so

had he been linked to a radiant angel much friendship as for Lord Clare. I have herself; his faults were too heredibeen constantly corresponding with him tary, and had been too much conever since I knew he was in Italy; and ' firmed by a loose education. Is look forward to seeing him, and talking there not an evident inconsistency over with him our old Harrow stories, with between the termination of his first infinite delight. There is no pleasure in paragraph, as given above, and the life equal to that of meeting an old friend. beginning of his fifth ? You know how glad I was to see Hay.

His judgment in critical matters Why did not Scroope Davics come to see me? Some one told me that he was at Flo

was more discriminating than we rence, but it is impossible.

could have legitimately inferred from “ There are two things that strike me at

his perpetual sneers and tirades, this moment, which I did at Harrow: I whenever the name of Shakspeare or fought Lord Calthorpe for writing • D-d Milton was mentioned.

He passes Atheist !! under my name; and prevented many opinions on the genius and the school-room from being burnt during a style of his cotemporaries, which rebellion, by pointing out to the boys the are for the most part judicious, and names of their fathers and grandfathers on often leaning much more to the side the walls.

of mercy than we could have ex“ Had I married Miss CT; perhaps pected, or can (as critics) approve: the whole tenor of my life would have been different. She jilted me, however, but her “ Like Gray,” said he,“ Campbell marriage proved any thing but a happy smells too much of the oil: he is never saone. She was at length separated from tisfied with what he does ; his finest things Mr. M- and proposed an interview have been spoiled by over-polish the with me, but by the advice of my sister I sharpness of the outline is worn off. Like declined it. I remember meeting her after paintings, poems may be too highly finishmy return from Greece, but pride had con- ed. The great art is effect, no matter how quered my love; and yet it was not with produced.... perfect indifference I saw her.

“ Coleridge is like Sosia in Amphy“For a man to become a poet (witness trion ; '-he does not know whether he is Petrarch and Dante) he must be in love, or himself, or not. If he had never gone to

+ He had always a black ribbon round his neck, to which was attached a locket containing hair and a picture. We had been playing at billiards one night till the balls appeared double, when all at once he searched hastily for something under his waistcoat, and said, in great alarm, “ Good God! I have lost my !” but before he had finished the sentence, he had discovered the hidden treasure.

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Germany, nor spoilt his fine genius by the Byron, or rather Lady Byron's with me,
transcendental philosophy and German and had some influence over my wife,
metaphysics, nor taken to write lay ser- - as much as any person but her mother,
mons, he would have made the greatest which is not saying much. I believe Ma-
poet of the day. What poets had we in dame de Staël did her utmost to bring
1795? Hayley had got a monopoly, such about a reconciliation between us. She was
as it was. Coleridge might have been any the best creature in the world.
thing: as it is, he is a thing that dreams " Women never see consequences ---
are made of.'”* * *

never look at things straight forward, or as I knew Madame de Staël in England. they ought Like figurantes at the Opera, When she came over she created a great they make a hundred pirouttes and return sensation, and was much courted in the to where they set out. With Madame de literary as well as the political world. On Staël this was sometimes the case. She the supposition of her being a Liberal, she was very indefinite and vague in her man. was invited to a party, where were present ner of expression. In endeavouring to be Whitbread, Sheridan, and several of the new she became often obscure, and someopposition leaders.

times unintelligible. What did she mean by * To the great horror of the former, she saying that · Napoleon was a system, and soon sported her Ultruisms. No one pos- not a man?' sessed so little tact as Madame de Staël,- I cannot believe that Napoleon was acwhich is astonishing in one who had seen quainted with all the petty persecutions so much of the world and of society. She that she used to be so garrulous about, or used to assemble at her routs politicians of that he deemed her of sufficient importboth sides of the House, and was fond of ance to be dangerous : besides, she adsetting two party-men by the ears in argu- mired him so much, that he might have

I once witnessed a curious scene of gained her over by a word. But, like this kind. She was battling it very warm. me, he had perhaps too great a contempt ly, as she used to do, with Canning, and for wonen ; he treated them as puppets, all at once turned round to (I think he and thought he could make them dance at said) Lord Grey, who was at his elbow, any time by pulling the wires. That for his opinion. It was on some point story of Gardez vos enfans' did not tell upon which he could not but most cordially much in her favour, and proves what I disagree. She did not understand London say. I shall be curious to see Las Cases society, and was always sighing for her book, to hear what Napoleon's real concoterie at Paris. The dandies took an in- duct to her was." * * * vincible dislike to the De Staëls, mother “ She was always aiming to be brilliant and daughter. Brummel was her aversion ; -- to produce a sensation, no matter how, -she, his. There was a double marriage when, or where. She wanted to make all talked of in town that season :-Auguste her ideas, like figures in the modern (the present Baron) was to have married French school of painting, prominent and Miss Milbank; 1, the present Duchess of showy,--standing out of the canvas, each Broglio. I could not have been worse in a light of its own. She was vain : but embroiled.

who had an excuse for vanity if she had “ Madame de Staël had great talent in not? I can easily conceive her not wishing conversation, and an overpowering flow of to change her name, or acknowledge that words. It was once said of a large party of Rocca. I liked Rocca ; he was a genthat were all trying to shine, There is tleman and a clever man; no man said not one who can go home and think.' better things, or with a better grace. The This was not the case with her. She was remark about the Meillerie road that I often troublesome, some thought rude, in quoted in the Notes of Childe Harold, her questions ; but she never offended me, La route vaut mieux que les souvenirs,' because I knew that her inquisitiveness did was the observation of a thorough Frenchnot proceed from idle curiosity, but from a wish to sound people's characters. She “ How could it be otherwise ?" said he. was a continual interrogatory to me, in “ Some of them were called translations, order to fathom mine, which requires a and I spoke in the character of a Frenchlong plumb line. She once asked me if man and a soldier. But Napoleon was his my real character was well drawn in a own antithesis (if I may say so). He was favourite novel of the day ( Glenarvon'). a glorious tyrant, after all. Look at his She was only singular in putting the ques- public works ; compare his face, even on tion in the dry way she did. There are his coins, with those of the other sovemany who pin their faith on that insincere reigns of Europe. I blame the manner production.

of his death : he showed that he possessed “ No woman had so much bonne foi as much of the Italian character in consentMadame de Staël : hers was a real kind- ing to live. There he lost himself in his ness of heart. She took the greatest pos- dramatic character, in my estimation. He sible interest in my quarrel with Lady was master of his own destiny; of that, at

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least, his enemies could not deprive him. of peculiar brilliancy and fire; but below He should have gone off the stage like a

he showed the satyr. hero : it was expected of him.”

“ Lewis had been, or thought he had Talking of romances, he said :

been, unkind to a brother whom he lost « • The Monk' is perhaps one of the young; and when any thing disagreeable best in any language, not excepting the was about to happen to him, the vision of German. It only wanted one thing, as I his brother appeared : he came as a sort of told Lewis, to have rendered it perfect. monitor. He should have made the dæmon really in “ Lewis was with me for a considerable love with Ambrosio: this would have given period at Geneva; and we went to Coppet it a human interest. · The Monk' was several times together ; but Lewis was written when Lewis was only twenty, and there oftener than I. he seems to have exhausted all his genius “ Madame de Staël and he used to have on it. Perhaps at that age he was in violent arguments about the Slave Trade, earnest in his belief of magic wonders. —which he advocated strongly, for most of That is the secret of Walter Scott's inspi- his property was in negroes and plantaration : he retains and encourages all the tions. Not being satisfied with three thousuperstitions of his youth. Lewis caught sand a-year, he wanted to make it five; his passion for the marvellous, and it and would go to the West Indies ; but he amounted to a mania with him, in Ger. died on the passage of sea-sickness, and many; but the groundwork of “The obstinacy in taking an emetic." *** Monk,' is neither original nor German : “« The Fudge Family' pleases me as it is derived from the tale of Santon Bar- much as any of Moore's works. The letter sisa.' The episode of · The Bleeding Nun,' which he versified at the end was given him which was turned into a melodrama, is by Douglas Kinnaird and myself, and was from the German."

addressed by the Life-guardsman, after the " Lewis was not a very successful wri- battle of Waterloo, to Big Ben. Witty as ter. His Monk' was abused furiously Moore's epistle is, it falls short of the oriby Matthias, in his “Pursuits of Litera- ginal. “Doubling'up the Mounseers in brass, ture,' and he was forced to suppress it is not so energetic an expression as was used • Abellino' he merely translated. • Pi. by our hero,--all the alliteration is lost. zarro' was a sore subject with him, and no “ Moore is one of the few writers who wonder that he winced at the name. She will survive the age in which he so de ridan, who was not very scrupulous about servedly flourishes. He will live in his applying to himself literary property at Irish Melodies ; ' they will go down to least, manufactured his play without so posterity with the music; both will last much as an acknowledgment, pecuniary or as long as Ireland, or as music and otherwise, from Lewis's ideas; and bad as poetry.' * Pizarro’ is, I know (from having been on Hunt would have made a fine writer, the Drury-Lane Committee, and knowing, for he has a great deal of fancy and feeling, consequently, the comparative profits of if he had not been spoiled by circumstances. plays,) that it brought in more money than He was brought up at the Blue-coat founany other play has ever done, or perhaps dation, and had never till lately been ten ever will do.

miles from St. Paul's. What poetry is to “ But to return to Lewis. He was even be expected from such a course of education? worse treated about " The Castle Spectre,' He has his school, however, and a host of which had also an immense run, a prodi. disciples. A friend of mine calls · Rimini;' gious success. Sheridan never gave him Nimini Pimini ; and · Foliage,' Follyage. any of its profits either. One day Lewis Perhaps he had a tumble in climbing trees being in company with him, said, She- in the Hesperides !! But Rimini' has a ridan, I will make you a large bet.' She- great deal of merit. There never were so ridan, who was always ready to make a many fine things spoiled as in Rimini.'” wager, (however he might find it incon. venient to pay it if lost,) asked eagerly Superstition is often the weakness 'what bet? • All the profits of my Castle of a strong mind. Cæsar and NapoSpectre,' replied Lewis. I will tell you leon are said to have felt its inwhat,' said Sheridan, (who never found fluence. Goethe, it appears (though his match at repartee, I will make we have no intention of classing a you a very small one, - what it is

poetical old woman with men of worth.' I asked him if he had known Sheridan?

strong minds) is subject to the same “ Yes," said he. “ Sheridan was an

infirmity; and, authorised by his extraordinary compound of contradictions, example, Byron seems to have inand Moore will be much puzzled in recon- dulged the same unphilosophical prociling them for the Life he is writing. The pensity to make the spirits, who diupper part of Sheridan's face was that of rect the great wheels of the universe a God--a forehead niost expansive, an eye attendants upon his petty concerns,

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-to make the grand phenomena of and thirty-seven were to be dangerous ages Nature mere prophecies of events, in my life. * One has come true.” which are to embellish his insignifi- " Yes," added I, “ and did she: not. cant history.

prophecy tliat you were to die a monk and

a miser? I have been told so." During our drive and ride this evening, he declined our usual amusements of pistol- That the domestic feelings were firing, without assigning a cause. He powerful in Lord Byron's breast is hardly spoke a word during the first half- undeniable, notwithstanding their hour, and it was evident that something having frequently yielded to the suweighed heavily on his mind. There was perior violence of his other passions, a sacredness in his melancholy that I His love of his child, his ill-concealed dared not interrupt. At length he said : “ This is Ada's birthday, and might from Lady B. and even his attach

anguish on account of his separation have been the happiest day of my life: as it is

He stopped, seemingly ment to the Countess Guiccioli, are ashamed of having betrayed his feelings. proofs of this. The Note-taker of his He tried in vain to rally his spirits by conversation says, turning the conversation ; but he created a laugh in which he could not join, and soon

Notwithstanding the tone of raillery relapsed into his former reverie. It lasted with which he sometimes speaks in Don till we came within a mile of the Argine Byron, and his saying, as he did to-day,

Juan' of his separation from Lady gate. There our silence was all at once

that the only thing he thanks Lady Byron interrupted by shrieks that seemed to proceed from a cottage by the side of the dent that it is the thorn in his side-the

for is, that he cannot marry, &c., it is eviroad. We pulled up our horses, to inquire of a contadino standing at the little poison in his cup of life! The veil is garden-wicket. He told us that a widow easily seen through. He endeavours to had just lost her only child, and that the of his heart, by assuming a gaiety that

mask his griefs, and to fill up the void sounds proceeded from the wailings of does not belong to it. All the terider and some women over the corpse. Lord Byron was much affected ; and his superstition, endearing ties of social and domestic life acted upon by a sadness

that seemned to be rudely torn asunder, he has been wandering presentiment, led him to augur some dis- on from place to place without finding any

to rest in. Switzerland, Venice, Ravenna, " I shall not be happy,” said he, “ till

and I might even have added Tuscany, I hear that my daughter is well. I have a

were doomed to be no asylum for him, &c. great horror of anniversaries : people only His platonic liaison, if that be its laugh at, who have never kept a register adequate title, was more durable than of them. I always write to my sister on Ada's birthday. I did so last year ; and,

many legitimate connexions.

Even this picture has its charm, what was

very remarkable, my letter reached her on my wedding-day, and her

though it certainly is not a moral one. answer reached me at Ravenna on my When I called, I found him sitting in birth-day! Several extraordinary things the garden under the shade of some orangehave happened to me on my birth-day ; so trees, with the Countess. They are now they did to Napoleon; and a more won. always together, and he is now become derful circumstance still occurred to Marie quite domestic.

He calls her Piccinina, Antoinette."

and bestows on her all the pretty diminu“I told you I was not oppressed in tive epithets that are so sweet in Italian. spirits last night without a reason. Who His kindness and attention to the Guiccioli 'can help being superstitious ? Scott believes have been invariable. A three years' conin second-sight. Rousseau tried whether stancy proves that he is not altogether so he was to be d-d or not, by aiming at a unmanageable by a sensible woman tree with a stone: I forget whether he hit might be supposed. In fact no man is so or missed., Goethe trusted to the chance easily led : but he is not to be driven. of a knife's striking the water, to deter. mine whether he was to prosper in some

Of the interesting female to whom

the latter extract refers there are undertaking. The Italians think the dropping of oil very unlucky. Pietro

frequent notices in the volume before (Count Gamba) dropped some the same

us. Though we will not assist in giv* night before his exile, and that of his fa. ing currency to the scandalous parts ‘mily, from Ravenna. Have you ever had

of these Conversations, we consider 'your fortune told ? Mrs. Williams told this subject as within the proper mine. She predicted that twenty-seven

limits of biography.

aster.

as

* He was married in his twenty-seventh, and died in his thirty-seventh year.

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The Countess Guiccioli is twenty-three the Guiccioli. The old Count did not years of age, though she appears no more object to her availing herself of the privi. than seventeen or eighteen. Unlike most leges of her country; an Italian would of the Italian women, her complexion is have reconciled him to the thing: indeed delicately fair. Her eyes, large, dark, and for some time he winked at our intimacy, languishing, are shaded by the longest eye. but at length made an exception against lashes in the world; and her hair, which is me, as a foreigner, a heretic, an English. ungathered on her head, plays over her man, and, what was worse than all, a falling shoulders in a profusion of natural liberal. ringlets of the darkest auburn. Her figure " He insisted-the Guiccioli was as obis, perhaps, too much embonpoint for her stinate ; her family took her part. Catholics height, but her bust is perfect ; her features cannot get divorces. But, to the scandal want little of possessing a Grecian regu- of all Romagna, the matter was at length larity of outline; and she has the most referred to the Pope, who ordered her a beautiful mouth and teeth imaginable. It separate maintenance, on condition that she is impossible to see without admiring-to should reside under her father's roof. All hear the Guiccioli speak without being fas- this was not agreeable, and at length I cinated. Her amiability and gentleness was forced to snuggle her out of Ravenna, shew themselves in every intonation of her having disclosed a plot laid with the sancvoice, which, and the music of her perfect tion of the Legate for shutting her up in a Italian, give a peculiar charm to every convent for life, which she narrowly thing she utters. Grace and elegance escaped.” seem component parts of her nature. Not. withstanding that she adores Lord Byron,

Yet his opinion of women is deit is evident that the exile and poverty of grading to the sex and to him ; it her aged father sometimes affect her spirits, plainly evinces that he was not capaand throw a shade of melancholy on her ble of a lasting and sincere attachcountenance, which adds to the deep inter- ment, either to wife or mistress : est this lovely girl creates. “ Extraordinary pains,” said Lord By.

“ Women were there, as they have ever ron one day, “ were taken with the educa- been fated to be, my bane. Like Napo. tion of Teresa. Her conversation is lively, leon, I have always had a great contempt without being frivolous ; without being for women ; and forined this opinion of learned, she has read all the best authors them not hastily, but from my own fatal of her own and the French language. She experience. My writings, indeed, tend to often conceals what she knows, from the exalt the sex ; and my imagination has fear of being thought to know too much; always delighted in giving them a beau idéal possibly because she knows I am not fond likeness, but I only drew them as a painter of blues. To use an expression of Jeffrey's,

or statuary would do, -as they should be. If she has blue stockings, she contrives Perhaps my prejudices, and keeping them that her petticoat shall hide them.”

at a distance, contributed to prevent the

illusion from altogether being worn out and Her lover's excuse for her morality, destroyed as to their celestial qualities. or rather that of her country, is per

They are in an unnatural state of sohaps, the best and only one which ciety. The Turks and Eastern people macan be made.

nage these matters better than we do.

They lock them up, and they are much “ The Count Guiccioli, for instance, who happier. Give a woman a looking-glass is the richest man in Romagna, was sixty and a few sugar-plums, and she will be sawhen he married Teresa; she sixteen. tisfied.” From the first they had separate apartments, and she always used to call him We have always held that Lord Sir. What could be expected from such a Byron's poetry was more the result preposterous connexion ? For some time of feeling than of imagination, and she was an Angiolina, and he a Marino his confession in the next paragraph Faliero, a good old man; but young fully bears us out in our opinion. : women, and your Italian ones too, are not satisfied with your good old men. Love is “ I wrote The Prophecy of Dante' not the same dull, cold, calculating feeling at the suggestion of the Countess. I was here as in the North. It is the business, at that time paying my court to the Guicthe serious occupation of their lives; it is a cioli, and addressed the dedicatory sonnet want, a. necessity. Somebody properly to her. She had heard of my having defines a woman, a creature that loves written something about Tasso, and thought They die of love; particularly the Romans: Dante's exile and death would furnish as they begin to love earlier, and feel the fine a subject. I can never write but on passion later than the Northern people. the spot. Before I began “The Lament,' When I was at Venice, two dowagers of I went to Ferrara, to visit the Dungeon. sixty made love to me. But to return to Hoppner was with me, and part of it, the

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