kindly friend and hostess, the admiration, of an astonished world. We know no other writer who has done for his country what Sir Walter did for his, unless we seek that writer in a rank above the highest which we dare claim for our beloved romancer and historian-in the larger sphere of Shakspeare, or in the narrow but intensest circle of Dante. We do not claim for him a place beside the poet of England or him of Florence; but being his superiors, they are the only names which, on their higher level, are his equals in this which he did for his country and for his race.-MRS. OLIPHANT.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Biographies of Scott: By Lockhart, | For description of Abbotsford and its and by Leslie Stephen, edited by surroundings, see

GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON
(1788-1824).

PORTRAITS OF BYRON.

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Of the numerous representations of Byron, Thorwaldsen's bust is considered the best. It was done at Rome, in 1817, for Mr. Hobhouse, and pronounced by the poet's sister the finest likeness that had been taken of him. The sculptor, who was the contemporary and rival of Canova, afterwards described the poet's sitting to his fellow-countryman, Hans Christian Andersen: "Byron placed himself opposite to me, but at once began to put on a quite different expression from that usual to him. Will you not sit still?' said I. 'You need not assume that look.' 'That is my expression,' said Byron. 'Indeed,' said I; and I then represented him as I wished. When the bust was finished he said, 'It is not at all like me; my expression is more unhappy.'" Some time after, Thorwaldsen executed the statue of marble which is now in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge. The face of Thorwaldsen's bust has been often repeated, and forms the basis of the poet's likeness in the accepted design for the monument by Richard Belt. The design represents Byron sitting on a rock, his favorite dog, Boatswain, at his feet, gazing up in his face, and a cloak overspreading the rock. Another famous likeness is the bust done by Bartolini at Pisa, in 1822. "Bartolini, the celebrated sculptor," writes the poet to Mr. Murray, "wrote to me to desire to take my bust. I consented, on condition that he also took that of the Countess Guiccioli. He has taken both, and I think it will be allowed that hers is beautiful. Of my own I can hardly speak, except that it is thought very like what I now am, which is different from what I was, of course, since you saw me. The sculptor is a famous one, and as it was done by his own particular request, will be done well, probably." Again, "I assure you Bartolini's is dreadful, though my mind misgives me that it is hideously like. If it is, I cannot be long for this world, for it overlooks seventy." In 1822 Byron sat for his portrait to the great American painter, Benjamin West, who succeeded Sir Joshua Reynolds as President of the Royal Academy in England. “I found him a bad sitter," says Mr. West. "He talked all the time, and asked a multitude of questions about America, how I liked Italy, what I thought of the Italians, etc. He assumed a countenance that did not belong to him, as though he were thinking of a frontispiece to 'Childe Harold.'" This portrait was taken for the Academy of New York, and has been severely criticised. But of all his portraits-representing him often in Greek or peer or sailor or college costume - that by the skilful artist, Thomas Phillips, is generally regarded the best.

PERSONAL APPEARANCE.

Of his face, the beauty may be pronounced to have been of the highest order, as combining at once regularity of features with the most varied and interesting expression. The same facility, indeed, of change observable in the movements of his mind was seen also in the free play of his features, as the passing thoughts within darkened or shone through them. His eyes, though of a light gray, were capable of all extremes of expression-from the most joyous hilarity to the deepest sadness; from the very sunshine of benevolence to the most concentrated scorn or rage. Of this latter passion I had once an opportunity of seeing what fiery interpreters they could be, on my telling him, thoughtlessly enough, that a friend of mine had said to me, "Beware of Lord Byron; he will some day or other do something very wicked." "Was it a man or woman