more intolerable agony of a wounded spirit! This is his remorse! La Rochefoucault says, that men repent of their offences only when they feel, or are likely to feel some inconvenience from their consequences. Certainly, penitence is made more lively by a little suffering, and the whole force of this selfish theory is exhibited in the remorse of Manfred. But in what heart-rending language is this late awakening of lost love expressed! "Hear me, hear me ! Astarte! my beloved! speak to me; I have so much endured-so much endure Look on me! the grave hath not changed thee more, Startled the slumbering birds from the hush'd boughs, Which answered me-many things answered me— We must now bring these remarks, which have unexpectedly run out to an unconscionable length under our pen, to an abrupt close. But we cannot consent to end this article without doing Lord Byron the justice to quote the whole of a most animated and eloquent defence of his conduct, which Mr. Moore has furnished from an unpublished MS. heard, and let the reader judge for himself. Let him be "My learned brother proceeds to observe, that it is in vain for Lord B. to attempt in any way to justify his own behaviour in that affair; and now that he has so openly and audaciously invited inquiry and reproach, we do not see any good reason why he should not be plainly told so by the voice of his countrymen.' How far the openness of an anonymous poem, and the audacity' of an imaginary character, which the writer supposes to be meant for lady B., may be deemed to merit this formidable denunciation from their most sweet voices,' I neither know nor care; but when he tells me that I cannot in any way justify my own behaviour in that affair,' I acquiesce, because no man can justify' himself until he knows of what he is accused; and I have never had-and, God knows, my whole desire has ever been to obtain it-any specific charge, in a tangible shape, submitted to me by the adversary, nor by others, unless the atrocities of public rumour and the mysterious silence of the lady's legal advisers may be deemed such. But is not the writer content with what has been already said and done? Has not the general voice of his countrymen' long ago pronounced upon the subject-sentence without trial, and condemnation without a charge? Have I not been exiled by ostracism, except that the shells which proscribed me were anonymous? Is the writer ignorant of the public opinion and the public conduct upon that occasion! If he is, I am not: the public will forget both long before I shall cease to remember either. "The man who is exiled by a faction has the consolation of thinking that he is a martyr; he is upheld by hope and the dignity of his cause, real or imaginary: he who withdraws from the pressure of debt may indulge in the thought that time and prudence will retrieve his circumstance: he who is condemned by the law has a term to his banishment, or a dream of its abbreviation; or, it may be, the knowledge or the belief of some injustice of the law, or of its administration in his own particular: but he who is outlawed by general opinion, without the intervention of hostile politics, illegal judgement, or embarrassed circumstances, whether he be innocent or guilty, must undergo all the bitterness of exile, without hope, without pride, without alleviation. This case was mine. Upon what grounds the public founded their opinion, I am not aware; but it was general, and it was decisive. Of me or of mine they knew little, except that I had written what is called poetry, was a nobleman, had married, became a father, and was involved in differences with my wife and her relatives, no one knew why, because the persons complaining refused to state their grievances. The fashionable world was divided into parties, mine consisting of a very small minority: the reasonable world was naturally on the stronger side, which happened to be the lady's, as was most proper and polite. The press was active and scurrilous; and such was the rage of the day, that the unfortunate publication of two copies of verses, rather complimentary than otherwise to the subjects of both, was tortured into a species of crime, or constructive petty treason. I was accused of every monstrous vice, by public rumour and private rancour: my name, which had been a knightly or a noble one since my fathers helped to conquer the kingdom for William the Norman, was tainted. I felt that, if what was whispered, and muttered, and murmured was true, I was unfit for England; if false, England was unfit for me. I withdrew: but this was not enough. In other countries, in Switzerland, in the shadow of the Alps, and by the blue depth of the lakes, I was pursued and breathed upon by the same blight. I crossed the mountains, but was the same; so I went a little farther, and settled myself by the waves of the Adriatic, like the stag at bay, who betakes him to the waters. If I may judge by the statements of the few friends who gathered round me, the outery of the period to which I allude was beyond all precedent, all parallel, even in those cases where political motives have sharpened slander and doubled enmity. I was advised not to go to the theatres, lest I should be hissed, nor to my duty in Parliament, lest I should be insulted by the way; even on the day of my departure, my most intimate friend told me afterwards that he was under apprehensions of violence from the people who might be assembled at the door of the carriage. However, I was not deterred by these counsels from seeing Kean in his best characters, nor from voting according to my principles; and, with regard to the third and last apprehensions of my friends, I could not share in them, not being made acquainted with their extent till some time after I had crossed the channel. if I had been so, I am not of a nature to be much affected by men's anger, though I may feel hurt by their aversion. Against all individual outrage, I could protect or redress myself; and against that of a crowd, I should probably have been enabled to defend myself, with the assistance of others, as has been done on similar occasions. Even per "I retired from the country, perceiving that I was the object of general obliquy; I did not indeed imagine, like Jean Jacques Rosseau that all mankind was in a conspiracy against me, though I had perhaps as good grounds for such a chimera as ever he had: but I ceived that I had to a great extent become personally obnoxious in England, perhaps through my own fault, but the fact was indisputable; the public in general would hardly have been so much excited against a more popular character, without at least an accusation or a charge of some kind actually expressed or substantiated, for I can hardly conceive that the common and every-day occurrence of a separation between man and wife could in itself produce so great a ferment. I shall say nothing of the usual complaints of being prejudged,'' condemned unheard,' 'unfairness,' 'partiality,' and so forth, the usual changes rung by parties who have had, or are to have, a trial; but I was a little surprised to find myself condemned without being favoured with the act of accusation, and to perceive in the absence of this portentous charge or charges, whatever it or they were to be, that every possible or impossible crime was rumoured to supply its place, and taken for granted. This could only occur in the case of a person very much disliked, and I knew no remedy, having already used to their extent whatever little powers I might possess of pleasing in society. I had no party in fashion, though I was afterward told that there was one-but it was not of my formation, nor did I then know of its existence-none in literature; and in politics I had voted with the Whigs, with precisely that importance which a Whig vote possesses in these Tory days, and with such personal acquaintance with the leaders in both houses as the society in which I lived sanctioned, but without claim or expectation of any thing like friendship from any one, except a few young men of my own age and standing, and a few others more advanced in life, which last it had been my fortune to serve in circumstances of difficulty. This was, in fact, to stand alone : and I recollect, some time after, Madame de Staël said to me in Switzerland, 'You should not have warred with the world-it will not do-it is two strong always for any individual: I myself once tried it in early life, but it will not do.' I perfectly acquiesce in the truth of this remark; but the world had done me the honour to begin the war; and, assuredly, if peace is only to be obtained by courting and paying tribute to it, I am not qualified to obtain its countenance. I thought in the words of Campbell, Then wed thee to an exiled lot, And if the world bath loved thee not, Its absence may be borne.' "I recollect, however, that having been much hurt by Romilly's conduct (he, having a general retainer for me, had acted as adviser to the adversary, alleging, on being reminded of his retainer, that he had forgotten it, as his clerk had so many), I observed that some of those who were now eagerly laying the axe to my roof-tree, might see their own shaken, and feel a portion of what they had inflicted. His fell, and crushed him. "I have heard of, and believe, that there are human beings so constituted as to be insensible to injuries; but I believe that the best mode to avoid taking vengeance is to get out of the way of temptation. I hope that I may never have the opportunity, for I am not quite sure that I could resist it, having derived from my mother something of the 'perfevidum ingenium Scotorum.' I have not sought, and shall not seek it, and perhaps it may never come in my path. I do not in this allude to the party, who might be right or wrong; but to many who made her cause the pretext of their own bitterness. She, indeed, must have long avenged me in her own feelings, for whatever her reasons may have been (and she never adduced them to me, at least) she probably neither contemplated nor conceived to what she became the means of conducting the father of her child, and the husband of her choice. "So much for the general voice of his countrymen:' I will now speak of some in particular. "In the beginning of the year 1817, an article appeared in the Quarterly Review, written, I believe, by Walter Scott, doing great honour to him, and no disgrace to me, though both poetically and personally more than sufficiently favourably to the work and the author of whom it treated. It was written at a time when a selfish man would not, and a timid one dare not, have said a word in favour of either; it was written by one to whom temporary public opinion had elevated me to the rank of a rival- -a proud distinction, and unmerited; but which has not prevented me from feeling as a friend, nor him from more than corresponding to that sentiment. The article in question was written upon the third Canto of Childe Harold, and after many observations, which it would as ill become me to repeat as to forget, concluded with a hope that I might yet return to England.' How this expression was received in England itself I am not acquainted, but it gave great offence at Rome to the respectable ten or twenty thousand English travellers then and there assembled. I did not visit Rome till some time after, so that I had no opportunity of knowing the fact ; but I was informed, long afterward, that the greatest indignation had been manifested in the enlightened Anglo-circle of that year, which happened to comprise within it-amid a considerable leaven of Welbeck-street and Devonshire-place, broken loose upon their travels— several really well-born and well-bred families, who did not the less participate in the feeling of the hour. Why should he return to Enggland?' was the general exclamation-I answer why? It is a question I have occasionally asked myself, and I never yet could give it a satisfactory reply. I had then no thoughts of returning, and if I have any now, they are of business, and not of pleasure. Amid the ties that have been dashed to pieces, there are links yet entire, though the chain itself be broken. There are duties and connexions which may one day require my presence-and I am a father. I have still some friends whom I wish to meet again, and, it may be, an enemy. These things, and those minuter details of business, which time accumulates during absence, in every man's affairs and property, may, and probably will, recall me to England; but I shall return with the same feelings with which I left it, in respect to itself, though altered with regard to individuals, as I have been more or less informed of their conduct since my departure; for it was only a considerable time after it that I was made acquainted with the real facts and full extent of some of their proceedings and language. My friends, like other friends, from conciliatory motives, withheld from me nuch that they could, and some things which they should have unfolded; however, that which is deferred is not lost-but it has been no fault of mine that it has been deferred at all. 6 6 "I have alluded to what is said to have passed at Rome merely to show that the sentiment which I have described was not confined to the English in England, and as forming part of my answer to the reproach cast upon what has been called my selfish exile,' and my voluntary exile.' 'Voluntary' it has been; for who would dwell among a people entertaining strong hostility against him? How far it has been selfish' has been already explained." pp. 249-253. For our own part, we must say, that our opinion have undergone no material change in relation to the essential points of Lord Byron's character and conduct. No one ever denied that VOL. VII.-NO. 13. 6 |