LITERARY CRITICISM.

PREFACE.

PRICE 6d.

point of vigour, variety, and liveliness, to any that have yet adorned this branch of our literature.

"What has been said of Petrarch, that his correspondence and verses together afford the progressive interest of a narrative in which the Poet is always identified with the man, will be found applicable, in a far greater degree, to Lord Byron, in whom the literary and the personal character were so closely interwoven, that to have left his works without the instructive commentary which his Life and Correspondence afford, would have been equally an injustice both to himself and the world."

"In presenting these volumes to the public, I should have felt, I own, considerable diffidence, from a sincere distrust. Letters and Journals of Lord Byron; with Notices of his not well convinced that there is in the subject itself, and in in my own powers of doing justice to such a task, were I Life. By Thomas Moore. In Two Vols. Vol. I. the rich variety of materials here brought to illustrate it, a London. John Murray. 1830. 4to. Pp. 670. degree of attraction and interest which it would be difficult, even for hands the most unskilful, to extinguish. HowIn our humble opinion, this is the most interesting ever lamentable were the circumstances under which Lord work that has issued from the British press since the Byron became estranged from his country, to his long ab. death of Lord Byron. Containing, as it does, (and we, sence from England, during the most brilliant period of his. of course, speak of the first volume alone, which is all powers, we are indebted for all those interesting letters that is yet published,) two hundred and forty-one origi-work, and which will be found equal, if not superior, in which compose the greater part of the second volume of this nal letters by Lord Byron, together with numerous ex. tracts from his private journals, memoranda, and unpubfished poems, to say nothing of the rich thread of narrative upon which they are strung, we are not sure but that it is even a more interesting work than "Childe Harold" itself. Having, by the polite attention of the publisher, been favoured with an early copy, we have devoted ourselves to it exclusively for the greater part of the last week; and we have found the contents from beginning to end so irresistible, that they have stood us in stead of both food and sleep. Here, at length, have we seen the mighty problem of Byron's mind and character satisfactorily and fully solved; and now, for the first time, have we been introduced into the private society and secret thoughts of that mighty spirit, whose brief existence gave a colour to the literature of an age. The work would have been intensely interesting had it contained nothing but a statement of facts, interspersed with Moore's obserFations concerning them; but when, in addition to this, we find that its still more prominent feature is, that it teems with the breathing thoughts and burning words of Byron himself, it becomes, beyond all doubt, the most valuable and important piece of biography ever produced in this country.

Whilst we are delighted, in no small degree, with the manner in which Mr Moore performs his task,—with the manly, candid, impartial, and dignified tone of his narrative,—we have been still more delighted to find, that the enlightened and generous views he is disposed to take of the character of his deceased friend are amply-we may say, triumphantly-borne out by the immense mass of the poet's private documents, now for the first time given to the public, and which form an almost inexhaustible literary banquet. To this subject we must, of course, recur at our earliest opportunity; but we shall not at present intrude upon the patience of our readers with any farther remarks of our own, as we are anxious to give them a foretaste, as far as lies in our power, of the pleasure they will receive from a complete perusal of the work itself, which, however, cannot be generally in their possession for some little time to come.

After mentioning that the Dedication is in these words -"To Sir Walter Scott, Baronet, these volumes are inscribed by his affectionate friend, Thomas Moore,"-we think it right to begin our extracts with the Preface, which, though short, cannot fail to convey to the reader the most favourable impressions both of the work and the biographer:

Without attempting to connect the extracts which we shall now subjoin in any way than by a single explanatory remark in introducing them, and by observing a chronological order in their arrangement, we commence at once with the following passage, which is taken from one of Byron's own Note-books:

LORD BYRON AT HARROW.

had never read a Review. But while at Harrow, my ge"Till I was eighteen years old, (odd as it may seem,) I neral information was so great on modern topics, as to induce a suspicion that I could only collect so much information from Reviews, because I was never seen reading, but always idle, and in mischief, or at play. The truth is, that I read eating, read in bed, read when no one else read, and had read all sorts of reading since I was five years old, and yet never met with a Review, which is the only reason I know of why I should not have read them. But it is true; for I remember when Hunter and Curzon, in 1804, told me this opinion at Harrow, I made them laugh, by my ludicrous astonishment, in asking them, What is a Review?' To be sure, they were then less common. In three years more, I was better acquainted with that same; but the first I ever read was in 1806-7.

"At school I was (as I have said) remarked for the extent and readiness of my general information; but in all other respects idle, capable of great sudden exertions such as thirty or forty Greek hexameters, of course with such prosody as it pleased God-but of few continuous drudgeries. My qualities were much more oratorical and martial than poetical, and Dr Drury, my grand patron, (our head master,) had a great notion that I should turn out an orator, from my fluency, my turbulence, my voice, my copiousness of declamation, and my action. I remember that my

"For this display of his declamatory powers, on the speech days, he selected always the most vehement passages,-such as the speech of Zanga over the body of Alonzo, and Lear's address to the storm. Ou one of these public occasions, when it was arranged that he should take the part of Drances, and young Peel that of Turnus, Lo d Byfearing, it was supposed, some ridicule from the inappropriate ron suddenly changed his mind, and preferred the speech of Latinus,

taunt of Turnus, Ventosa in linguâ, pedibusque fugacibus istis,"

first declamation astonished him into some unwonted (for he was economical of such) and sudden compliments, before the declaimers at our first rehearsal. My first Harrow verses, (that is, English, as exercises,) a translation of a chorus from the Prometheus of Eschylus, were received by him but coolly. No one had the least notion that I should subside into poesy.

"Peel, the orator and statesman, ('that was, or is, or is to be,') was my form fellow, and we were both at the top of our remove, (a public school phrase.) We were on good terms, but his brother was my intimate friend. There were always great hopes of Peel amongst us all, masters and scholars; and he has not disappointed them. As a scholar, he was greatly my superior; as a declaimer and actor, I was reckoned at least his equal; as a school-boy, out of school, I was always in scrapes, and he never; and in school, he always knew his lesson, and I rarely; but when I knew it, I knew it nearly as well. In general information, history, &c. &c. I think I was his superior, as well as of most boys of my standing.

"The prodigy of our school-days was George Sinclair, (son of Sir John); he made exercises for half the school (literally), verses at will, and themes without it. He was a friend of mine, and in the same remove, and used, at times, to beg me to let him do my exercise-a request always most readily accorded upon a pinch, or when I wanted to do something else, which was usually once an hour. On the other hand, he was pacific, and I savage; so I fought for him, or thrashed others for him, or thrashed himself to make him thrash others, when it was necessary, as a point of honour and stature, that he should so chastise; or we talked politics, for he was a great politician, and were very good friends. I have some of his letters, written to me from school, still."-P. 40-2.

We think it may be safely said, that it was not till he saw Miss Chaworth that Byron ever seriously fell in love; for, though he himself never quite forgot a boyish sentiment he entertained for a certain Mary Duff, before he was eight years old, it is evident that his subsequent imagination alone could have magnified such a sentiment into real passion. At the age of twelve, however, he met with another young lady, who made a considerable impression upon him; and we shall therefore entitle our next extract

LORD BYRON'S First love.

could meet again-being usually about twelve hours of se paration! But I was a fool then, and am not much wiser now.'"-Pp. 35, 6.

Tracing our hero a year or two farther on in his career, we come to the celebrated attack made upon him in the Edinburgh Review:

LORD BYRON AND THE EDINBURGH REVIEW.

"The effect this criticism produced upon him can only be conceived by those who, besides having an adequate notion of what most poets would feel under such an attack, can understand all that there was in the temper and disposition of Lord Byron to make him feel it with tenfold more acuteness than others. We have seen with what feverish anxiety he awaited the verdict of all the minor reviews, and, from his sensibility to the praise of the meanest of these censors, may guess how painfully he must have writhed under the sneers of the highest. A friend, who found him in the first moments of excitement after reading the article, enquired anxiously whether he had just received a challenge?-not knowing how else to account for the fierce defiance of his looks. It would indeed be difficult for sculptor or painter to imagine a subject of more fearful beauty than the fine countenance of the young poet must have exhibited in the collected energy of that crisis. His pride had been wounded to the quick, and his ambition humbled:-but this feeling of humiliation lasted but for a moment. The very reaction of his spirit against aggression roused him to a full consciousness of his own powers; and the pain and the shame of the injury were forgotten in the proud certainty of re

venge.

"Among the less sentimental effects of this review upon his mind, he used to mention that, on the day he read it, he drank three bottles of claret, to his own share, after dinner;-that nothing, however, relieved him, till he had given vent to his indignation in rhyme, and that, after the first twenty lines, he felt himself considerably better.' His chief care, indeed, afterwards, was amiably devoted,-as we have seen it was, in like manner, before the criticism,— to allaying, as far as he could, the sensitiveness of his mother, who, not having the same motive or power to summon up a spirit of resistance, was of course more helplessly alive to this attack upon his fame, and felt it far more than, after the first burst of indignation, he did himself. But the state of his mind upon the subject will be best understood by the following extract from a letter:

"You have seen the Edinburgh Review, of course. I regret that Mrs Byron is so much annoyed. For my own part, these paper bullets of the brain have only taught me to stand fire; and, as I have been lucky enough upon the whole, my repose and appetite are not discomposed. Pratt, the gleaner, author, poet, &c. &c. addressed a long rhyming epistle to me on the subject, by way of consolation; but it was not well done, so I do not send it, though the name of the man might make it go down. The E. R.s have not performed their task well; at least, the literati tell me this, and I think I could write a more sarcastic critique on myself than any yet published. For instance, instead of the remark,-ill-natured enough, but not keen,-about MacPherson, I (quoad Reviewers) could have said, Alas! this imitation only proves the assertion of Doctor Johnson, that many men, women, and children, could write such poetry as Ossian's.""-P. 143-5.

"It was probably during one of the vacations of this year, that the boyish love for his young cousin, Miss Parker, to which he attributes the glory of having first inspired him with poetry, took possession of his fancy. My first dash into poetry, he says, was as early as 1800. It was the ebullition of a passion for my first cousin, Margaret Parker, (daughter and grand-daughter of the two Admirals Parker,) one of the most beautiful of evanescent beings. I have long forgotten the verses, but it would be difficult for me to forget her her dark eyes-her long eye-lashes-her completely Greek cast of face and figure! I was then about twelve-she, rather older, perhaps a year. She died about a year or two afterwards, in consequence of a fall, which injured her spine, and induced consumption. Her sister, Augusta, (by some thought still more beautiful,) died of the same malady; and it was, indeed, in attending her, that Margaret met with the accident which occasioned her own death. My sister told me, that when she went to see her, Reviewers," elicited by the severity of the latter, was The publication of the "English Bards and Scotch shortly before her death, upon accidentally mentioning my name, Margaret coloured through the paleness of mortality Byron's first stepping-stone to literary eminence; yet, to to the eyes, to the great astonishment of my sister, who (re-show how little malevolence there really existed in his siding with her grandmother, Lady Holderness, and seeing but little of me, for family reasons) knew nothing of our attachment, nor could conceive why my name should affect her at such a time. I knew nothing of her illness, being at Harrow and in the country, till she was gone. Some years after, I made an attempt at an elegy-a very dull one.

nature, we consider the following curious information concerning that satire, not the least interesting portion of the volume before us:

THE ENGLISH BARDS AND SCOTCH REVIEWers.

"But whatever may have been the faults or indiscretions of this satire, there are few who would now sit in judgment upon it so severely as did the author himself, on reading it over nine years after, when he had quitted England, never to return. The copy which he then perused is now in the possession of Mr Murray, and the remarks which he has

position that does not entirely discourage and intimidate us, has ra""Tis a quality very observable in human nature, that any op ther a contrary effect, and inspires us with a more than ordinary grandeur and magnanimity. In collecting our force to overcome the opposition, we invigorate the soul, and give it an elevation with which otherwise it would never have been acquainted."

HUME, Treatise of Human Nature.

left scribbled over its pages, are well worth transcribing. On the first leaf we find The binding of this volume is considerably too valuable for its contents! Nothing but the consideration of its being the property of another prevents me from consigning this miserable record of misplaced anger and indiscriminate acrimony to the flames. B.'-Opposite the passage,

'to be misled

By Jeffrey's heart, or Lamb's Boeotian head,' is written,' This was not just. Neither the heart nor the head of these gentlemen are at all what they are here represented. Along the whole of the severe verses against Mr Wordsworth, he has scrawled, Unjust,' and the same verdict is affixed to those against Mr Coleridge. On his unmeasured attack upon Mr Bowles, the comment is, Too savage all this on Bowles;' and down the margin of the page containing the lines, Health to immortal Jeffrey,' &c. he writes, Too ferocious-this is mere insanity,'-adding, on the verses that follow, ( Can none remember that eventful day?' &c.) All this is bad, because personal.' Sometimes, however, he shows a disposition to stand by his original decisions. Thus, on the passage relating to a writer of certain obscure Epics, (v. 379,) he says, 'All right;' adding of the same person, saw some letters of this fellow to an unfortunate poetess, whose productions (which the poor woman by no means thought vainly of) he attacked so roughly and bitterly, that I could hardly regret assailing him, even were it unjust, which it is not; for, really, he is an ass.' On the strong lines, too, (v. 953,) upon Clarke, (a writer in a Magazine called the Satirist,) he remarks, Right enough,-this was well deserved, and well laid on.' To the whole paragraph beginning, Illustrious Holland,' are affixed the words, Bad enough; and on mistaken grounds, besides.' The bitter verses against Lord Carlisle he pronounces Wrong also-the provocation was not sufficient to justify such acerbity;' and of a subsequent note respecting the same nobleman, he Much too savage,

6

says,

whatever the foundation may be.' Of Rosa Matilda, (v. 738,) he tells us, She has since married the Morning Post, an exceeding good match.' To the verses, When some brisk youth, the tenant of a stall,' &c. he has appended the following interesting note:-This was meant at poor Blackett, who was then patronized by A. I. B.,* but that I did not know, or this would not have been written; at least, I think not.' Farther on, where Mr Campbell and other poets are mentioned, the following jingle on the names of their respective poems is scribbled:

Pretty Miss Jacqueline
Had a nose aquiline;
And would assert rude
Things of Miss Gertrude;
While Mr Marmion
Led a great army on,
Making Kehama look
Like a fierce Mamaluke.'

Opposite the paragraph in praise of Mr Crabbe, he has written, I consider Crabbe and Coleridge as the first of these times in point of power and genius.' On his own line, in a subsequent paragraph, And glory, like the Phonix 'mid her fires,' he says, comically, The Devil take that Phoenix-how came it there?' and his concluding remark on the whole poem is as follows:- The greater part of this satire, I most sincerely wish had never been written; not only on account of the injustice of much of the critical, and some of the personal part of it, but the tone and temper are such as I cannot approve. BYRON.

LETTER TO SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.

"St James's Street, July 6, 1812. "Sir, I have just been honoured with your letter. I feel sorry that you should have thought it worth while to notice the evil works of my nonage,' as the thing is suppressed voluntarily, and your explanation is too kind not to give me pain. The Satire was written when I was very young and very angry, and fully bent on displaying my wrath and my wit, and now I am haunted by the ghosts of my wholesale assertions. I cannot sufficiently thank you for your praise; and now, waving myself, let me talk to you of the Prince Regent. He ordered me to be presented to him at a ball; and after some sayings, peculiarly pleasing from royal lips, as to my own attempts, he talked to me of you, and your immortalities: he preferred you to every bard past and present, and asked which of your works pleased me most. It was a difficult question. I answered, I thought the Lay.' He said his own opinion was nearly similar. In speaking of the others, I told him that I thought you more particularly the Poet of Princes, as they never appeared more fascinating than in Marmion' and the Lady of the Lake.' He was pleased to coincide, and to dwell on the description of your Jameses, as no less royal than poetical. He spoke alternately of Homer and yourself, and seemed well acquainted with both; so that (with the exception of the Turks and your humble servant) you were in very good company. I defy Murray to have exaggerated his Royal Highness's opinion of your powers, nor can I pretend to enumerate all he said on the subject; but it may give you pleasure to hear that it was conveyed in language which would only suffer by my attempting to transcribe it, and with a tone and taste which gave me a very high idea of his abilities and accomplishments, which I had hitherto considered as confined to manners, certainly superior to those of any living gentleman.

"This interview was accidental; I never went to the levee; for having seen the courts of Mussulman and Catholic sovereigns, my curiosity was sufficiently allayed; and my politics being as perverse as my rhymes, I had, in fact, 'no business there.' To be thus praised by your Sovereign, must be gratifying to you; and if that gratification is not alloyed by the communication being made through me, the bearer of it will consider himself very fortunately and sincerely your obliged and obedient servant, "BYRON.

"P. S. Excuse this scrawl, scratched in a great hurry, and just after a journey."-Pp. 359, 60.

Our readers have not, of course, forgotten the meanspirited and vulgar Memoirs of Lord Byron, published some time ago by Mr Leigh Hunt. The manner in which Mr Moore alludes to this person, is to us infinitely delightful; and the calm tone of contempt with which he mentions him, must gall the Cockney to the quick, if he has one spark of gentlemanly feeling in his whole composition :

LORD BYRON'S FIRST INTERVIEW WITH LEIGH HUNT. "It was at this time that Lord Byron became acquainted (and, I regret to have to add, partly through my means) with Mr Leigh Hunt, the editor of a well-known weekly This gentleman I had myself journal, the Examiner. formed an acquaintance with in the year 1811, and, in common with a large portion of the public, entertained a sincere admiration of his talents and courage as a journalist. The interest I took in him personally had been recently much increased by the manly spirit which he had displayed throughout a prosecution, instituted against himself and his brother, for a libel that had appeared in their paper on the Prince Regent, and in consequence of which they were both sentenced to imprisonment for two years. It will be recollected, that there existed among the Whig party, at this period, a strong feeling of indignation at the late defection, the base of the Parnassian hill, he at once stepped up to from themselves and their principles, of the illustrious perthe summit. His name became familiar in the mouths sonage, who had been so long looked up to as the friend and of men, and he himself was courted and flattered every-patron of both. Being myself, at the time, warmly-perwhere. Among other tributes to his fame, he had the honour of being presented to the present King, then Prince Regent, and having occasion to write soon afterwards to Sir Walter Scott, we find him mentioning the particulars of this interview in the following terms:

'Diodati, Geneva, July 14, 1816.'”—P. 169-171. After the publication of the two first cantos of " Childe Harold," in 1812, Lord Byron passed, as it were, into a new state of existence. From simply lingering round

"Lady Byron, then Miss Milbank."

haps intemperately-under the influence of this feeling, I regarded the fate of Mr Hunt with more than common interest, and, immediately on my arrival in town, paid him a visit in his prison. On mentioning the circumstance, soon after, to Lord Byron, and describing my surprise at the sort of luxurious comforts with which I found the wit in the dungeon' surrounded-his trellised flower-garden without, and his books, busts, pictures, and piano-forte within

-the noble poet, whose political view of the case coincided entirely with my own, expressed a strong wish to pay a similar tribute of respect to Mr Hunt; and accordingly, a day or two after, we proceeded for that purpose to the prison. The introduction which then took place was soon followed by a request from Mr Hunt that he would dine with him, and the noble poet having good-naturedly accepted the invitation, the Cold Bath Fields Prison had, in the month of June, 1813, the honour of receiving Lord Byron, as a guest, within its walls.

"Our day in the prison was, if not agreeable, at least novel and odd. I had, for Lord Byron's sake, stipulated with our host beforehand, that the party should be, as much as possible, confined to ourselves; and, as far as regarded dinner, my wishes had been attended to,-there being present, besides a member or two of Mr Hunt's own family, no other stranger, that I can recollect, but Mr Mitchell, the ingenious translator of Aristophanes. Soon after dinner, however, there dropped in some of our host's literary friends, who, being utter strangers to Lord Byron and myself, rather disturbed the ease into which we were all settling. Among these, I remember, was Mr John Scott, the writer afterwards of some severe attacks upon Lord Byron; and it is painful to think that, among the persons there assembled, round the poet, there should have been one so soon to step forth the assailant of his living fame, while another, less manful, would reserve the cool venom for his grave."-P. 400-2.

my draft, and go on as usual: in that case, we shall recur
to our former basis. That I was perfectly serious in wish-
ing to suppress all future publication, is true; but certainly
not to interfere with the convenience of others, and more
particularly your own. Some day, I will tell you the rea-
son of this apparently strange resolution. At present, it
may be enough to say that I recall it at your suggestion;
and as it appears to have annoyed you, I lose no time in
saying so.-Yours truly,
'B.'"
-Pp. 550, 1.

The event which, more than any other, coloured Lord Byron's destiny, was his marriage. Of the ciacumstance which led to it we have the following account:

LORD BYRON'S PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.

"The circumstance of importance' to which he alludes in this letter, was his second proposal for Miss Milbank, for which he was now waiting the result. His own account in his memoranda, of the circumstances that led to this step, is in substance, as far as I can trust my recollection, as follows: A person who had for some time stood high in his affection and confidence, observing how cheerless and unsettled was the state both of his mind and prospects, advised him strenuously to marry; and after much discussion he consented. The next point for consideration was,-who was to be the object of his choice? and while his friend mentioned one lady, he himself named Miss Milbank. To this, however, his adviser strongly objected,remarking to him that Miss Milbank had at present no fortune, and that his embarrassed affairs would not allow him to marry without one; that she was, moreover, a learned lady, which would not at all suit him. In consequence of these representations, he agreed that his friend should write a proposal for him to the other lady named, which was accordingly done, and an answer, containing a refusal, arrived as they were, one morning, sitting together. You see,' said Lord "In this sensitive state of mind, which he but ill dis-Byron, that after all, Miss Milbank is to be the person; guised or relieved by an exterior of gay defiance or philoso--I will write to her. He accordingly wrote on the mophic contempt, we can hardly feel surprised that he should ment, and as soon as he had finished, his friend, remonstrahave, all at once, come to the resolution, not only of perseting still strongly against his choice, took up the letter; but vering in his determination to write no more in future, but on reading it over, observed, Well, really, this is a very of purchasing back the whole of his past copyrights, and pretty letter;-it is a pity it should not go. I never read a suppressing every page and line he had ever written. On prettier one. Then it shall go,' said Lord Byron; and his first mention of this design, Mr Murray naturally so saying, sealed and sent off on the instant this fiat of his fate." doubted as to his seriousness; but the arrival of the following letter, enclosing a draft for the amount of the copyrights, put his intentions beyond question :

In a remarkable mood of mind which overtook him in 1814, Lord Byron formed a sudden resolution not only never to write another word, but to purchase back the copyright of all his previous works, and suppress every line of them. The following extract explains his feelings upon this subject.

LORD BYRON'S DETERMINATION TO SUPPRESS HIS WORKS.

"To MR MURRAY.

2, Albany, April 29, 1814. Dear Sir, I enclose a draft for the money; when paid, send the copyright. I release you from the thousand pounds agreed on for the Giaour and Bride-there's an end.

If any accident occurs to me, you may do then as you please; but, with the exception of two copies of each for yourself only, I expect, and request, that the advertisements be withdrawn, and the remaining copies of all destroyed; and any expense so incurred I will be glad to defray.

For all this, it might be as well to assign some reason. I have none to give, except my own caprice, and I do not consider the circumstance of consequence enough to require explanation.

In course, I need hardly assure you, that they never shall be published with my consent, directly or indirectly, by any other person whatsoever, that I am perfectly satisfied, and have every reason so to be, with your conduct in all transactions between us as publisher and author.

It will give me great pleasure to preserve your acquaintance, and to consider you as my friend. Believe me very truly, and for much attention, your obliged and very obe'BYRON.

dient servant,

TO MR MOORE.

"Newstead Abbey, Sept. 20, 1814. "Here's to her who long Hath waked the Poet's sigh! The girl who gave to song

What gold could never buy!

"My Dear Moore,-I am going to be married-that is, I am accepted, and one usually hopes the rest will follow. My mother of the Gracchi (that are to be) you think too strait-laced for me, although the paragon of only children, and invested with golden opinions of all sorts of men,' and full of most blest conditions' as Desdemona herself. Miss Milbank is the lady, and I have her father's invitation to proceed there in my elect capacity; which, however, I cannot do till I have settled some business in London, and get a blue coat.

"She is said to be an heiress, but of that I really know nothing, certainly I shall not enquire. But I do know that she has talents and excellent qualities, and you will not deny her judgment, after having refused six suitors, and

taken me.

"Now, if you have any thing to say against this, pray do; my mind's made up, positively fixed, determined, and therefore I will listen to reason, because now it can do no harm. Things may occur to break it off, but I will hope not. In the meantime, I tell you-a secret, by the by, at P. S. I do not think that I have overdrawn at Ham- least till I know she wishes it to be public-that I have mersley's; but if that be the case, I can draw for the super-proposed, and am accepted. You need not be in a hurry to flux on Hoares'. The draft is L.5 short, but that I will make up. On payment-not before-return the copyright papers.'

In such a conjuncture, an appeal to his good natured considerateness was, as Mr Murray well judged, his best resource; and the following prompt reply will show how easily, and at once, it succeeded:

TO MR MURRAY.

'May 1, 1814. 'Dear Sir,-If your present note is serious, and it really would be inconvenient, there is an end of the matter: tear

wish me joy, for one mayn't be married for mouths. I am going to town to-morrow, but expect to be here, on my way there, within a fortnight.

"On the day of the arrival of the lady's answer, he was sitting at dinner, when his gardener came in, and presented him with diis mother's wedding-ring, which she had lost many years before, and which the gardener had just found in digging up the mould under her window. Almost at the same moment, the letter from Miss Milbank arrived, and Lord Byron exclaimed. If it contains a couing acceptance of his proposal, and a duplicate of the letter had heen sent, I will be married with this ring.' It did contain a very flattersent to London, in case this should have missed him.— Memoranda.

"On politics, he used sometimes to express a high strain tatious on my part; and, of course, I must send it as it is, without of what is now called Liberalism; but it appeared to me,