one with interest-a view of Abbotsford! Scott, smiling sadly, remarked, “I have a faithful picture of that"—meaning in his heart-and walked away! DEATH. Just before his death, Scott recognized no one, till his old friend and factor, Laidlaw, appeared at his bedside. He shook him warmly by the hand, and said, “I know I am at Abbotsford." In a short time he revived a little. He had himself borne into his garden, and afterwards into his library. Here he requested paper and pens to be set before him, and then asked to be alone; he attempted to take up the pen, but the palsied fingers refused their office. He sat back in his chair, with a look of the utmost melancholy. Laidlaw, who saw him, said, "I hope you are happy now, sir." "No;" said he; “there is no more happiness for Sir Walter! powerful frame struggled with death for some days; but at last it yielded, and on the 21st September, 1832, Sir Walter Scott expired. His age was exactly sixty-one years, one month, and six days. His LORD BYRON. FAME AND WICKEDNESS. In March, 1812, Byron published the two first cantos of "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage." Though the measure was totally different from that of the current poetry of the time, and the tone of the poem at once sceptical and misanthropic, such were its wonderful beauties, that it bore the author, at one bound, to the pinnacle of fame. He said of himself, at this time, "I went to bed a common man, and when I got up in the morning, I found myself famous." He was immediately ranked among the wonderful men of the day; letters of gratulation poured in from all sides; the great, the rich, the powerful-lords and ladies-the flush and the fair-all crowded upon him their attentions and flatteries. It was hardly in human nature to resist the seductions of such adulation-it surely was not in Byron's; and, completely intoxicated, he yielded to the delicious current upon which he was launched. Down he glided, giving himself up to every species of indulgence, dissipation and debauchery. There was at this time, in London, a person of talent and literary pretensions, but not of very good reputation, by the name of Lady Caroline Lamb. She was, however, a woman of rank and fashion, and her house was the rendezvous of the choice spirits of London. She was captivated by the fame of Byron, and, it would seem, fascinated also by his person. For a time, the poet appears to have been pleased with her notice, and was often seen at her parties. She also visited Byron in the guise of a page, fancifully and beautifully attired. This intoxication soon passed away on the part of Byron, and the lady took revenge by writing a novel, in which the hero, under the name of Glenarvon, a monster of vice and crime, is intended to stand as the representative of her ungrateful lover. She speaks of him as possessing "an imagination of flame, playing round a heart of ice "and, perhaps, thus fairly draws the outline of Byron's real character. UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. During his fits of gloom, Byron frequently shut himself up at Newstead. By his profligacy, he had incurred heavy debts, which, though his income was large, weighed heavily upon his spirits. He appears to have had false shame at the idea of earning money, and so gave away the proceeds of his poems. He now cast about for extrication from his embarrassments, by marriage; and accordingly offered his hand to Miss Millbank, a great heiress in prospect, but of no ready money. Though twice refused, he was at last accepted, and was married October, 1814. He rather increased than mitigated his difficulties by this step; his door was beset by duns, and in the first year of his marriage, he had nine executions in his house. He became irritable and unreasonable; and his wife, being a person of cold heart and manners, did little to soften him. She bore him a child, afterwards named Ada, and now Lady King; but this could not unite the hearts of the parents. Difficulties grew up between them, and in January, 1816, she, with her child, left her husband's house, and he saw them no more. Out of humor with himself, the world, and especially his own country-which had offered him rank and wealth and showered down upon him a flood of honors-he took his leave, with the determination never to return to England-a resolution which he sternly kept. APPEARANCE AND HABITS. In person, Lord Byron was of middling stature; his head was so remarkably small, that not one man in ten could wear his hat. It was, however, finely formed, with a lofty forehead. His lips were large and full, his eye deep, his hair thin, brown and curling. When excited, his countenance bore a remarkable expression of soft, yet melancholy sentiment. Though crippled in one of his feet, the defect was scarcely observed in his gait, and it did not prevent his being a vigorous swimmer. When in Greece, he swam across the Hellespont, from Sestos to Abydos, a distance of four miles. He was abstemious in eating, often making his dinner of biscuit and water. He was vain of his skill in boxing and pistol shooting, and more proud of his descent than his talents. While writhing under the reprobation which his vices called down upon his head, he affected to despise the world. While he professed to be a sceptic and lived as if there were no God, he yielded to superstitious impressions. Having all the means of happiness, he was still wretched; with powers to do infinite good, it is certain that if, on the whole, his existence prove not a curse to mankind, it will His talents were arise from no good intentions of his own. indeed great, but his moral character was detestable. Though he had generous impulses, they flowed from no principle, and were rooted in no virtue. There is enough. in his story to reconcile us all to a humble lot in life, and to a sincere utterance of Agur's prayer, "Give me neither poverty nor riches; " applying it as well to intellectual as pecuniary wealth. DEATH. In 1823, Byron received flattering overtures from the Greek committee in London, if he would go to Greece, and lend his name and fame to aid that oppressed country in its struggle for freedom. He yielded to these offers, and set out for Greece. He reached Missolonghi in January, 1824, and devoted himself with great energy to the cause he came to serve. He gave his money liberally, and was prodigal of his personal exertions. In all this, he not only showed devotion and sincerity, but he surprised every one by the good sense and practical wisdom which he displayed. In the beginning of February he got wet through, on the evening of the 15th he was seized with a dreadful convulsive fit, and was for some time speechless and senseless. Soon after the paroxysm, while stretched on his bed, faint with bleeding, a crowd of mutinous Suliotes, whom he had engaged to fight for their country, burst into his apartment, brandishing their arms, and furiously demanding their pay. Sick and nerve-shaken as he was, Byron is said to have displayed great calmness and courage on this trying occasion; and his manner soon inspired the mutineers with respect and awe. On the 9th of April, he again got wet, and a fever set in, at a time when he was dispirited at seeing that his efforts were unavailing to inspire a feeling of harmony among the wrangling leaders of Greece. His danger was seen by his physician, and bleeding was advised; but Byron obstinately refused to allow it. His mind at last G |