(Lord Byron) George Gordon Byron - Life of Lord Byron, With His Letters And Journals, Vol. 5 (of 6)

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[Footnote 62: "See the Cries of Bologna, as drawn by Aunibal Caracci. He
was of very humble origin; and, to correct his brother's vanity, once
sent him a portrait of their father, the tailor, threading his needle."]

[Footnote 63: "The principal gondolier, il fante di poppa, was almost
always in the confidence of his master, and employed on occasions that
required judgment and address."]

[Footnote 64: "Adrianum mare.--CICERO."]

[Footnote 65: "See the Prophecy of Dante."]

[Footnote 66: "See the tale as told by Boccaccio and Dryden."]

[Footnote 67: "They wait for the traveller's carriage at the foot of
every hill."]

* * * * *

On the road to Bologna he had met with his early and dearest friend,
Lord Clare, and the following description of their short interview is
given in his "Detached Thoughts."

"Pisa, November 5. 1821.

"'There is a strange coincidence sometimes in the little things of this
world, Sancho,' says Sterne in a letter (if I mistake not), and so I
have often found it.

"Page 128. article 91. of this collection, I had alluded to my friend
Lord Clare in terms such as my feelings suggested. About a week or two
afterwards I met him on the road between Imola and Bologna, after not
having met for seven or eight years. He was abroad in 1814, and came
home just as I set out in 1816.

"This meeting annihilated for a moment all the years between the present
time and the days of _Harrow_. It was a new and inexplicable feeling,
like rising from the grave, to me. Clare, too, was much agitated--more
in _appearance_ than was myself; for I could feel his heart beat to his
fingers' ends, unless, indeed, it was the pulse of my own which made me
think so. He told me that I should find a note from him left at Bologna.
I did. We were obliged to part for our different journeys, he for Rome,
I for Pisa, but with the promise to meet again in spring. We were but
five minutes together, and on the public road; but I hardly recollect an
hour of my existence which could be weighed against them. He had heard
that I was coming on, and had left his letter for me at Bologna, because
the people with whom he was travelling could not wait longer.

"Of all I have ever known, he has always been the least altered in every
thing from the excellent qualities and kind affections which attached me
to him so strongly at school. I should hardly have thought it possible
for society (or the world, as it is called) to leave a being with so
little of the leaven of bad passions.

"I do not speak from personal experience only, but from all I have ever
heard of him from others, during absence and distance."

* * * * *

After remaining a day at Bologna, Lord Byron crossed the Apennines with
Mr. Rogers; and I find the following note of their visit together to the
Gallery at Florence:--

"I revisited the Florence Gallery, &c. My former impressions were
confirmed; but there were too many visiters there to allow one to _feel_
any thing properly. When we were (about thirty or forty) all stuffed
into the cabinet of gems and knick-knackeries, in a corner of one of the
galleries, I told Rogers that it 'felt like being in the watchhouse.' I
left him to make his obeisances to some of his acquaintances, and
strolled on alone--the only four minutes I could snatch of any feeling
for the works around me. I do not mean to apply this to a _tete-a-tete_
scrutiny with Rogers, who has an excellent taste, and deep feeling for
the arts, (indeed much more of both than I can possess, for of the
FORMER I have not much,) but to the crowd of jostling starers and
travelling talkers around me.

"I heard one bold Briton declare to the woman on his arm, looking at the
Venus of Titian, 'Well, now, this is really very fine indeed,'--an
observation which, like that of the landlord in Joseph Andrews on 'the
certainty of death,' was (as the landlord's wife observed) 'extremely
true.'

"In the Pitti Palace, I did not omit Goldsmith's prescription for a
connoisseur, viz. 'that the pictures would have been better if the
painter had taken more pains, and to praise the works of Pietro
Perugino.'"

* * * * *

LETTER 466. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Pisa, November 3. 1821.

"The two passages cannot be altered without making Lucifer talk
like the Bishop of Lincoln, which would not be in the character of
the former. The notion is from Cuvier (that of the _old worlds_),
as I have explained in an additional note to the preface. The other
passage is also in character: if _nonsense_, so much the better,
because then it can do no harm, and the sillier Satan is made, the
safer for every body. As to 'alarms,' &c. do you really think such
things ever led any body astray? Are these people more impious than
Milton's Satan? or the Prometheus of AEschylus? or even than the
Sadducees of * *, the 'Fall of Jerusalem' * *? Are not Adam, Eve,
Adah, and Abel, as pious as the catechism?

"Gifford is too wise a man to think that such things can have any
_serious_ effect: _who_ was ever altered by a poem? I beg leave to
observe, that there is no creed nor personal hypothesis of mine in
all this; but I was obliged to make Cain and Lucifer talk
consistently, and surely this has always been permitted to poesy.
Cain is a proud man: if Lucifer promised him kingdom, &c. it would
_elate_ him: the object of the Demon is to _depress_ him still
further in his own estimation than he was before, by showing him
infinite things and his own abasement, till he falls into the frame
of mind that leads to the catastrophe, from mere _internal_
irritation, _not_ premeditation, or envy of _Abel_ (which would
have made him contemptible), but from the rage and fury against
the inadequacy of his state to his conceptions, and which
discharges itself rather against life, and the Author of life, than
the mere living.

"His subsequent remorse is the natural effect of looking on his
sudden deed. Had the _deed_ been _premeditated_, his repentance
would have been tardier.

"Either dedicate it to Walter Scott, or, if you think he would like
the dedication of 'The Foscaris' better, put the dedication to 'The
Foscaris.' Ask him which.

"Your first note was queer enough; but your two other letters, with
Moore's and Gifford's opinions, set all right again. I told you
before that I can never _recast_ any thing. I am like the tiger: if
I miss the first spring, I go grumbling back to my jungle again;
but if I do _hit_, it is crushing. * * * You disparaged the last
three cantos to me, and kept them back above a year; but I have
heard from England that (notwithstanding the errors of the press)
they are well thought of; for instance, by American Irving, which
last is a feather in my (fool's) cap.

"You have received my letter (open) through Mr. Kinnaird, and so,
pray, send me no more reviews of any kind. I will read no more of
evil or good in that line. Walter Scott has not read a review of
_himself_ for _thirteen years_.

"The bust is not _my_ property, but _Hobhouse_'s. I addressed it to
you as an Admiralty man, great at the Custom-house. Pray deduct the
expenses of the same, and all others.

"Yours," &c.

* * * * *

LETTER 467. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Pisa, Nov. 9. 1821.

"I _never read_ the Memoirs at all, not even since they were
written; and I never will: the pain of writing them was enough; you
may spare me that of a perusal. Mr. Moore has (or may have) a
discretionary power to omit any repetition, or expressions which do
not seem _good_ to _him_, who is a better judge than you or I.

"Enclosed is a lyrical drama, (entitled 'A Mystery,' from its
subject,) which, perhaps may arrive in time for the volume. You
will find _it pious_ enough, I trust,--at least some of the Chorus
might have been written by Sternhold and Hopkins themselves for
that, and perhaps for melody. As it is longer, and more lyrical and
Greek, than I intended at first, I have not divided it into _acts_,
but called what I have sent _Part First_, as there is a suspension
of the action, which may either close there without impropriety, or
be continued in a way that I have in view. I wish the first part to
be published before the second, because, if it don't succeed, it is
better to stop there than to go on in a fruitless experiment.

"I desire you to acknowledge the arrival of this packet by return
of post, if you can conveniently, with a proof.

"Your obedient, &c.

"P.S. My wish is to have it published at the same time, and, if
possible, in the same volume, with the others, because, whatever
the merits or demerits of these pieces may be, it will perhaps be
allowed that each is of a different kind, and in a different style;
so that, including the prose and the Don Juans, &c. I have at least
sent you _variety_ during the last year or two."

* * * * *

LETTER 468. TO MR. MOORE.

"Pisa, November 16. 1821.

"There is here Mr. * *, an Irish genius, with whom we are
acquainted. He hath written a really _excellent_ Commentary on
Dante, full of new and true information, and much ingenuity. But
his verse is such as it hath pleased God to endue him withal.
Nevertheless, he is so firmly persuaded of its equal excellence,
that he won't divorce the Commentary from the traduction, as I
ventured delicately to hint,--not having the fear of Ireland before
my eyes, and upon the presumption of having shotten very well in
his presence (with common pistols too, not with my Manton's) the
day before.

"But he is eager to publish all, and must be gratified, though the
Reviewers will make him suffer more tortures than there are in his
original. Indeed, the _Notes_ are well worth publication; but he
insists upon the translation for company, so that they will come
out together, like Lady C * *t chaperoning Miss * *. I read a
letter of yours to him yesterday, and he begs me to write to you
about his Poeshie. He is really a good fellow, apparently, and I
dare say that his verse is very good Irish.

"Now, what shall we do for him? He says that he will risk part of
the expense with the publisher. He will never rest till he is
published and abused--for he has a high opinion of himself--and I
see nothing left but to gratify him, so as to have him abused as
little as possible; for I think it would kill him. You must write,
then, to Jeffrey to beg him _not_ to review him, and I will do the
same to Gifford, through Murray. Perhaps they might notice the
Comment without touching the text. But I doubt the dogs--the text
is too tempting. * *

"I have to thank you again, as I believe I did before, for your
opinion of 'Cain,' &c.

"You are right to allow ---- to settle the claim; but I do not see
why you should repay him out of your _legacy_--at least, not
yet.[68] If you _feel_ about it (as you are ticklish on such
points) pay him the interest now, and the principal when you are
strong in cash; or pay him by instalments; or pay him as I do my
creditors--that is, not till they make me.

"I address this to you at Paris, as you desire. Reply soon, and
believe me ever, &c.

"P.S. What I wrote to you about low spirits is, however, very true.
At present, owing to the climate, &c. (I can walk down into my
garden, and pluck my own oranges,--and, by the way, have got a
diarrhoea in consequence of indulging in this meridian luxury of
proprietorship,) my spirits are much better. You seem to think that
I could not have written the 'Vision,' &c. under the influence of
low spirits; but I think there you err.[69] A man's poetry is a
distinct faculty, or Soul, and has no more to do with the every-day
individual than the Inspiration with the Pythoness when removed
from her tripod."

[Footnote 68: Having discovered that, while I was abroad, a kind friend
had, without any communication with myself, placed at the disposal of
the person who acted for me a large sum for the discharge of this claim,
I thought it right to allow the money, thus generously destined, to be
employed as was intended, and then immediately repaid my friend out of
the sum given by Mr. Murray for the manuscript.

It may seem obtrusive, I fear, to enter into this sort of personal
details; but, without some few words of explanation, such passages as
the above would be unintelligible.]

[Footnote 69: My remark had been hasty and inconsiderate, and Lord
Byron's is the view borne out by all experience. Almost all the tragic
and gloomy writers have been, in social life, mirthful persons. The
author of the Night Thoughts was a "fellow of infinite jest;" and of the
pathetic Rowe, Pope says--"He would laugh all day long--he would do
nothing else but laugh."]

* * * * *

The correspondence which I am now about to insert, though long since
published by the gentleman with whom it originated[70], will, I have no
doubt, even by those already acquainted with all the circumstances, be
reperused with pleasure; as, among the many strange and affecting
incidents with which these pages abound, there is not one, perhaps, so
touching and singular as that to which the following letters refer.

TO LORD BYRON.

"Frome, Somerset, November 21. 1821.

"My Lord,

"More than two years since, a lovely and beloved wife was taken
from me, by lingering disease, after a very short union. She
possessed unvarying gentleness and fortitude, and a piety so
retiring as rarely to disclose itself in words, but so influential
as to produce uniform benevolence of conduct. In the last hour of
life, after a farewell look on a lately born and only infant, for
whom she had evinced inexpressible affection, her last whispers
were 'God's happiness! God's happiness!' Since the second
anniversary of her decease, I have read some papers which no one
had seen during her life, and which contain her most secret
thoughts. I am induced to communicate to your Lordship a passage
from these papers, which, there is no doubt, refers to yourself; as
I have more than once heard the writer mention your agility on the
rocks at Hastings.

"'Oh, my God, I take encouragement from the assurance of thy word,
to pray to Thee in behalf of one for whom I have lately been much
interested. May the person to whom I allude (and who is now, we
fear, as much distinguished for his neglect of Thee as for the
transcendant talents thou hast bestowed on him) be awakened to a
sense of his own danger, and led to seek that peace of mind in a
proper sense of religion, which he has found this world's
enjoyments unable to procure! Do Thou grant that his future example
may be productive of far more extensive benefit than his past
conduct and writings have been of evil; and may the Sun of
righteousness, which, we trust, will, at some future period, arise
on him, be bright in proportion to the darkness of those clouds
which guilt has raised around him, and the balm which it bestows,
healing and soothing in proportion to the keenness of that agony
which the punishment of his vices has inflicted on him! May the
hope that the sincerity of my own efforts for the attainment of
holiness, and the approval of my own love to the great Author of
religion, will render this prayer, and every other for the welfare
of mankind, more efficacious!--Cheer me in the path of duty;--but,
let me not forget, that, while we are permitted to animate
ourselves to exertion by every innocent motive, these are but the
lesser streams which may serve to increase the current, but which,
deprived of the grand fountain of good, (a deep conviction of
inborn sin, and firm belief in the efficacy of Christ's death for
the salvation of those who trust in him, and really wish to serve
him,) would soon dry up, and leave us barren of every virtue as
before.

"'July 31. 1814--Hastings.'

"There is nothing, my Lord, in this extract which, in a literary
sense, can _at all_ interest you; but it may, perhaps, appear to
you worthy of reflection how deep and expansive a concern for the
happiness of others the Christian faith can awaken in the midst of
youth and prosperity. Here is nothing poetical and splendid, as in
the expostulatory homage of M. Delamartine; but here is the
_sublime_, my Lord; for this intercession was offered, on your
account, to the supreme _Source_ of happiness. It sprang from a
faith more confirmed than that of the French poet: and from a
charity which, in combination with faith, showed its power
unimpaired amidst the languors and pains of approaching
dissolution. I will hope that a prayer, which, I am sure, was
deeply sincere, may not be always unavailing.

"It would add _nothing_, my Lord, to the fame with which your
genius has surrounded you, for an unknown and obscure individual to
express his admiration of it. I had rather be numbered with those
who wish and pray, that 'wisdom from above,' and 'peace,' and 'joy,'
may enter such a mind.

"JOHN SHEPPARD."

[Footnote 70: See "Thoughts on Private Devotion," by Mr. Sheppard.]

* * * * *

However romantic, in the eyes of the cold and worldly, the piety of this
young person may appear, it were to be wished that the truly Christian
feeling which dictated her prayer were more common among all who profess
the same creed; and that those indications of a better nature, so
visible even through the clouds of his character, which induced this
innocent young woman to pray for Byron, while living, could have the
effect of inspiring others with more charity towards his memory, now
that he is dead.

The following is Lord Byron's answer to this affecting communication.

LETTER 469. TO MR. SHEPPARD.

"Pisa, December 8. 1821.

"Sir,

"I have received your letter. I need not say, that the extract
which it contains has affected me, because it would imply a want of
all feeling to have read it with indifference. Though I am not
quite _sure_ that it was intended by the writer for _me_, yet the
date, the place where it was written, with some other circumstances
that you mention, render the allusion probable. But for whomever it
was meant, I have read it with all the pleasure which can arise
from so melancholy a topic. I say _pleasure_--because your brief
and simple picture of the life and demeanour of the excellent
person whom I trust you will again meet, cannot be contemplated
without the admiration due to her virtues, and her pure and
unpretending piety. Her last moments were particularly striking;
and I do not know that, in the course of reading the story of
mankind, and still less in my observations upon the existing
portion, I ever met with any thing so unostentatiously beautiful.
Indisputably, the firm believers in the Gospel have a great
advantage over all others,--for this simple reason, that, if true,
they will have their reward hereafter; and if there be no
hereafter, they can be but with the infidel in his eternal sleep,
having had the assistance of an exalted hope, through life, without
subsequent disappointment, since (at the worst for them) 'out of
nothing, nothing can arise, not even sorrow. But a man's creed does
not depend upon _himself_: _who_ can say, I _will_ believe this,
that, or the other? and least of all, that which he least can
comprehend. I have, however, observed, that those who have begun
life with extreme faith, have in the end greatly narrowed it, as
Chillingworth, Clarke (who ended as an Arian), Bayle, and Gibbon
(once a Catholic), and some others; while, on the other hand,
nothing is more common than for the early sceptic to end in a firm
belief, like Maupertuis, and Henry Kirke White.

"But my business is to acknowledge your letter, and not to make a
dissertation. I am obliged to you for your good wishes, and more
than obliged by the extract from the papers of the beloved object
whose qualities you have so well described in a few words. I can
assure you that all the fame which ever cheated humanity into
higher notions of its own importance would never weigh in my mind
against the pure and pious interest which a virtuous being may be
pleased to take in my welfare. In this point of view, I would not
exchange the prayer of the deceased in my behalf for the united
glory of Homer, Caesar, and Napoleon, could such be accumulated upon
a living head. Do me at least the justice to suppose, that

"'Video meliora proboque,'

however the 'deteriora sequor' may have been applied to my conduct.

"I have the honour to be

"Your obliged and obedient servant,

"BYRON.

"P.S. I do not know that I am addressing a clergyman; but I presume
that you will not be affronted by the mistake (if it is one) on the
address of this letter. One who has so well explained, and deeply
felt, the doctrines of religion, will excuse the error which led me
to believe him its minister."

* * * * *

LETTER 470. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Pisa, December 4. 1821.

"By extracts in the English papers,--in your holy ally, Galignani's
'Messenger,'--I perceive that 'the two greatest examples of human
vanity in the present age' are, firstly, 'the ex-Emperor Napoleon,'
and, secondly, 'his Lordship, &c. the noble poet,'meaning your
humble servant, 'poor guiltless I.'

"Poor Napoleon! he little dreamed to what vile comparisons the turn
of the wheel would reduce him!

"I have got here into a famous old feudal palazzo, on the Arno,
large enough for a garrison, with dungeons below and cells in the
walls, and so full of ghosts, that the learned Fletcher (my valet)
has begged leave to change his room, and then refused to occupy his
_new_ room, because there were more ghosts there than in the other.
It is quite true that there are most extraordinary noises (as in
all old buildings), which have terrified the servants so as to
incommode me extremely. There is one place where people were
evidently _walled up_; for there is but one possible passage,
broken through the wall, and then meant to be closed again upon
the inmate. The house belonged to the Lanfranchi family, (the same
mentioned by Ugolino in his dream, as his persecutor with
Sismondi,) and has had a fierce owner or two in its time. The
staircase, &c. is said to have been built by Michel Agnolo. It is
not yet cold enough for a fire. What a climate!

"I am, however, bothered about these spectres, (as they say the
last occupants were, too,) of whom I have as yet seen nothing, nor,
indeed, heard (_myself_); but all the other ears have been regaled
by all kinds of supernatural sounds. The first night I thought I
heard an odd noise, but it has not been repeated. I have now been
here more than a month.

"Yours," &c.

* * * * *

LETTER 471. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Pisa, December 10. 1821.

"This day and this hour, (one, on the clock,) my daughter is six
years old. I wonder when I shall see her again, or if ever I shall
see her at all.

"I have remarked a curious coincidence, which almost looks like a
fatality.

"My _mother_, my _wife_, my _daughter_, my _half-sister_, my
_sisters mother_, my _natural daughter_ (as far at least as _I_ am
concerned), and _myself_, are all only children.

"My father, by his first marriage with Lady Conyers (an only
child), had only my sister; and by his second marriage with an only
child, an only child again. Lady Byron, as you know, was one also,
and so is my daughter, &c.

"Is not this rather odd--such a complication of only children? By
the way, send me my daughter Ada's miniature. I have only the
print, which gives little or no idea of her complexion.

"Yours, &c. B."

* * * * *

LETTER 472. TO MR. MOORE.

"Pisa, December 12. 1821.

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