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Not to the aching frame alone confined,

Our tricks of mischief, every childish game,

Unchanged by time or distance, seem the same; Unyielding pangs assail the drooping mind : What grisly forms, the spectre-train of woe, Through winding paths along the glade, 1 trace Bid shuddering Nature shrink beneath the blow, The social smile of every welcome face;

My wonted haunts, my scenes of joy and woe, With Resignation wage relentless strife, While Hope retires appallid, and clings to life! Each early boyish friend, or youthful foe, Yet less the pang when, through the tedious hour, Our feuds dissolved, but not my friendship past:Remembrance sheds around her genial power,

I bless the former, and forgive the last. Calls back the vanish'd days to rapture given,

Hours of my youth! when, nurtured in my breast, When love was bliss, and beauty form’d our heaven; To love a stranger, friendship made me blest; Or, dear to youth, portrays each childish scene, Friendship, the dear peculiar bond of youth, Those fairy bowers, where all in turn have been. When every artless bosom throbs with truth; As, when through clouds that pour the summer Untaught by worldly wisdom how to feign, The orb of day unveils his distant form, (storm, and check each impulse with prudential rein ; Gilds with faiat beams the crystal dews of rain,

When all we feel, our honest souls discloseAnd dimly twinkles o’er the watery plain;

In love to friends, in open hale to foes ; Thus, while the future dark and cheerless gleams, No varnish'd tales the lips of youth repeat, The sun of memory, clowing through my dreams, No dear-bought knowledge purchased by deceit. Though sunk the radiance of his former blaze, Hypocrisy, the gift of lengthen d years, To scenes far distant points his paler rays;

Matured by age, the garb of prudence wears. Still, rules my senses with unbounded sway,

When now the boy is ripen’d into man, The past confounding with the present day.

His careful sire chalks forth some wary plan;

Instructs his son from candour's path to shrink, Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought,

Smoothly to speak, and cautiously to think; Which still recurs, unlook'd for and unsought;

Still to assent, and never to denyMy soul to Fancy's fond suggestion yields,

A patron's praise can well reward the lie: And roams romantic o'er her airy fields ;

And who, when Fortune's warning voice is heard, Scenes of my youth, developed, crowd to view, Would lose his opening prospects for a word; To which I long have bade a last adieu!

Although against that word his heart rebel,
Seats of delight, inspiring youthful themes;

And truth indignant all his bosom swell ?
Friends lost to me for aye, except in dreams;
Some who in marble prematurely sleep,

Away with themes like this! not mine the task Whose forms I now remember but to weep;

From flattering fiends lo tear the hateful mask; Some who yet urge the same scholasic course

Let keener bards delight in satire's sling; Of early science, future fame the source ;

My fancy soars not on Delraction's wing: Who, still contending in the studious race,

Once, and but once, she aim'd a deadly blow, In quick rotation till the senior place.

To hurl defiance on a secret foe; These with a thousand visions now unite,

But when ihal foe, from feeling or from shame, To dazzle, though they please, my aching sight.(1) | The cause unknown, yet still to me the same, Ida! blest spot, where Science holds her reign,

Warn’d by some friendly hint perchance, retired, How joyous once I join'd thy youthful train!

With this submission all her rage expired : Bright in idea gleams thy lofty spire,

From dreaded pangs that feeble foe to save, Again I mingle with thy playful quire;

She hush'd her young resentment, and forgave.

fering under severe i Iness and depression of spirits. "I was
laid, " he says, " on my back when that schoolboy thing was
written, or rather dictated-expecting to rise no more, my
physician having taken bis sixteenth fee.” In the private vo-
lume the poem opened with the following lines :-
"Hence! thou unvarying song of varied loves,
Which youth commends, maturer age reproves ;
Which every rhyming bard repeats by rote,
By thousands echo'd to the self-same note.
Tired of the dull, unceasing, copious strain,
My soul is panting to be free again,
Farewell ! ye aymphs propitious to my verse,
Some olber Damon will your charms rehearse,
fome other print bis pangs, in hope of bliss,
Or dwell in rapture on your nectar'd kiss.
Those beauties. grateful to my ardent sight,
No more entrance my senses in deli;ht;
Those bosoms, form d of animaled snow,
Alike are tasteless anıl unfeeling now.
These to some happier lover I resign-
The memory of those joys .lone is mine,

Censure no more shall brand my humble name,
The child of passion and the fool of fame.
Weary of love, of life, devour'd with spleen,
I rest a perfect Timon, not nineteen.
World ! I renounce Ibee ! all my hope's o'ercast :
One sigh I give ther, but that sigh's the last.
Friends, foes, and females, now alike adieu !
Would I could add remembrance of you too!
Yet though the future dark and cheerless gleams,
The curse of memory, bovering in my dreams,
Depicts with glowing pencil all those years,
Ere yet my cup, empoison'd, flow'd with tears ;
Still rules my senses with tyrannic sway,
The past confounding with the present day,

* Alas! in vain I check the maddening thought; It still recurs, unlook'il for and unsought :

My soul to Fancy's," etc., etc., as at line 29.-E. (1) The next filty-six lines, 10

“ Here first remember'd be the joyous band,"

were added in the first edition of Hours of Idleness. - E.

of my muse a pedant's portrait drew,

To her awhile resigns her youthful train, POMPOSUS' (1) virtues are but known to few: Who move in joy, and dance along the plain; I never fear'd the young usurper's nod,

In scatter'd groups each favour'd haunt pursue; And he who wields must sometimes feel the rod. Repeat old pastimes, and discover new; If since on Granta's failings, known to all

Flush'd with his rays, beneath the noontide sun, Who share the converse of a college hall,

In rival bands, between the wickels run, She sometimes trifled in a lighter strain,

Drive o'er the sward the ball with active force, ’T is past, and thus she will not sin again;

Or chase with nimble feet its rapid course, Soon must her early song for ever cease,

But these with slower steps direct their way, And all may rail when I shall rest in peace. Where Brent's cool waves in limpid currents stray;

While yonder few search out some green retreat, Here first remember'd be the joyous band,

And arbours shade them from the summer heat ; Who hail'd me chief,(2) obedient to command;

Others, again, a pert and lively crew, Who join'd whith me in every boyish sport

Some rough and thoughtless stranger placed in view, Their first adviser, and their last resort;

With frolic quaint their antic jests expose, Nor shrunk beneath the upstart pedant's frown,

And tease the grumbling rustic as he goes; Or all the sable glories of his gown;

Nor rest with this, but many a passing fray Who, thus transplanted from his father's school, Tradition treasures for a future day [fought, Unfit to govern, ignorant of rule

“ 'T was here the gather'd swains for vengeance Succeeded him whom all unite to praise,

And here we earn’d the conquest dearly bought; The dear preceptor of my early days;

Here have we fled before superior might, PROBUS (3), the pride of science, and the boast,

And here renewd the wild tumultuous Night.” To Ida now, alas ! for ever lost.

While thus our souls with early passions swell, With him, for years, we search'd the classic page,

In lingering tones resounds the distant bell; And fear’d the master, though we loved the sage; The allotted hour of daily sport is o'er, Retired at last, his small yet peaceful seat

And Learning beckons from her temple's door. From learning's labour is the blest retreat.

No splendid tablets grace her simple hall, POMPOSUS fills his magisterial chair;

But ruder records fill the dusky wall; POM POSUS governs,-but, my muse! forbear:(4)

There, deeply carved, behold! each tyro's name Contempt, in silence, be the pedant's lot;

Secures its owner's academic fame; His name and precepts be alike forgot;

Here, mingling, view the names of sire and son No more his mention shall my verse degrade,

The one long graved, the other just begun : To him my tribute is already paid.

These shall survive alike when son and sire High, through those elms, with hoary branches Beneath one common stroke of fate expire : (5) crown'd,

Perhaps their last memorial these alone, Fair Ida's bower adorns the landscape round;

Denied in death a monumental stone, There Science, from her favour'd seat, surveys

Whilst to the gale in mournful cadence wave The vale where rural Nature claims her praise;

The sighing weeds that hide their nameless grave.

(1) Dr. Butler, bead-master of Harrow school. Had Lord By- superfluous : it would be useless to enumerate qualifications ron published another edition of these poems, it appears, from a which were never doubled. A considerable contest took place loose sheet in his handwriting, to have been his intention, instead between three rival candidates for his vacant chair : of this I can of the passage beginning

only say, “ Or if my muse a pedant's portrait drew,"

Si mea cum vestris valuissent rota, Pelasgi! lo josert

Non foret ambiguus tanti certaminis hæres. “ If once my muse a harsher portrait drew, Warm with her wrongs, and deem'd the likeness true,

(Such was Byron's parting eulogy on Dr. Drury. It may be inBy cooler judgment taught, her fault she owns,

leresting to see by the side of it the Doctor's own account of bis With noble minds a fault confess'd atones."-E.

pupil, when first committed to his care : -"I look," says the (2) When Dr. Drury retired, in 1805, three candidates present- Doctor, “ my young disciple into my study, and endeavoured 10 ed themselves for the vacant chair, Messrs. Drury, Evans, and bring him forward by inquiries as to his former amusements, emButler. “On the first movement to which this contest gave rise ployments, and associates, but with little or no effect; and I soon in the school, young Wildman," says Moore, “ was at the head of found that a wild mountain colt had been submitted to my mathe party for Mark Drury, while Byron held himself aloof from nagement. But there was mind in his eye. His manner and temper any. Anxious, however, to have him as an ally, one of the Drury soon convinced me, that he might be led by a silken string lo a faction said to Wildman— Byron , I know, will not join, because point, rather than by a cable;—and on that principle I acted.”-E.) he does not choose lo act second to any one, but, by giving up (4) To this passage, had Lord Byron published another edition the leadership to him, you may at once secure him.'” This Wild of Hours of Idleness, it was his intention to give the following man accordingly did, and Byron took the command.-E.

turn. (3) Dr. Drury. This most able and excellent man retired

« Another fills his magisterial chair ; from his situation in March, 1805, after having resided thirty Reluctant Ida owns a stranger's care ; five years at Harrow; the last twenty as head-master; an office Oh! may like honours crown his future name : he held with equal honour to himself and advantage to the very

Il such bis virtues, such sbl be his fame."--E. extensive school over which he presided. Panegyric would here be (5) During a rebellion at Harrow, the poet prevented the school

And here my name, and many an early friend's, Advanced to claim his friend with honest joy,
Along the wall in lengthen'd line extends. My eyes, my beart, proclaim'd me still a boy;
Though still our deeds amuse the youthful race, The glittering scene, the fluttering groups around,
Who tread our steps, and ill our former place, Were quite forgotten when my friend was found :
Who young obey'd their lords in silent awe; The smiles of beauty—(for, alas ! I've known
Whose nod commanded, and whose voice was law; What 'tis to bend before Love's mighty throne)
And now, in turn, possess the reins of power, The smiles of beauty, though tho:e smiles were dear,
To rule, the little tyrants of an hour ;-

Could hardly charm me, when that friend was near:
Though sometimes, with the tales of ancient day, My thoughts bewilder'd in the fond surprise,
They pass the dreary winter's eve away :-

The woods of Ida danced before my eyes : “ And thus our former rulers stemm’d the tide, I saw the sprightly wanderers pour along, And thus they dealt the combat side by side; I saw and join'd again the joyous throng; Just in this place the mouldering walls they scaled, Panting, again I traced her lofty grove, Nor bolts nor bars against their strength avail'd; (1) And friendship’s feelings triumph'd over love. (2) Here PROBUS came, the rising fray to quell,

Yet, why should I alone with such delight And here he falter'd forth his last farewell; Retrace the circuit of my former flight ? And here one night abroad they dared to roam, there no cause beyond the common claim While bold POMPOSUS bravely staid at home!”, Endear'd to all in childhood's very name ? While thus they speak, the hour must soon arrive, Ah! sure some stronger impulse vibrates here, When names of these, like ours, alone survive : Which whispers friendship will be doubly dear

Yet a few years, one general wreck will whelm To one who thus for kindred hearts must roam, The faint remembrance of our fairy realm.

And seek abroad the love denied at home. Dear honest race! though now we meet no more, Those hearts, dear Ida, have I found in theeOne last long look on what we were before A home, a world, a paradise to me. Our first kind greetings, and our last adieu Stern Death forbade my orphan youth to share Drew tears from eyes unused to weep with you. The tender guidance of a father's (3) care. Through splendid circles, fashion’s gaudy world, Can rank, or e'en a guardian's name, supply Where folly's glaring standard waves unfurld, The love which glistens in a father's eye? I plunged to drown in noise my fond regret, For this can wealth or title's sound atone, And all I sought or hoped was to forget.

Made, by a parent's early loss, my own ? Vain wish! if chance some well-remember'd face, What brother springs a brother's love to seek ? Some old companion of my early race,

What sister's gentle kiss has prest my cheek ? room from being burnt down, by pointing out to the boys the reprobation, for which the ascertained facts of his bistory afford names of their fathers and grandfathers on the walls.-E. but a slender pretext. He had, like his son, the misfortune of

(1) Lord Byron elsewhere thus describes his usual course of life being brought up by a mother alone-Admiral Byron, his father, while at Harrow: - "Always cricketing, rebelling, rowing, and being kept at a distance from his family by professional duties. in all manner of mischiess.” One day, in a fit of defiance, he tore His education was completed at a foreign military academy, not, down all the gratings from the window of the hall; and when called in those days at least, a very favourable school ; and from this, upon by Dr. Butler to say why he had committed this violence, ans on receiving a commission in the Coldstream Guards, he was wered, with stern coolness, “because they darkened the room."- E. plunged, while yet a boy, into all the temptations to which a per

(2) This description of what the young poet felt in 1806, on en son of singular beauty, and manners of the most captivating countering in the world any of his former schoolsellows, falls far grace, can expose the heir of a noble name in our luxurious meshort of the page in which he records an accidental meeting with tropolis. The unfortunate intrigue, which has been gravely Lord Clare, on the road between Imola and Bologoa, in 1821. talked of as marking his character with something like horror, oc“ This meeling,” he says, “appibilated for a moment all the curred when he was bardly of age. At all events, as Caplain years bel ween the present time and the days of Harrow. It was a Byron, who died in his thirly-ifth year, could have had no Dew and inexplicable feeling, like rising from the grave, to me. influence in determining the course of his son's education or Clare, too, was much agitated - more in appearance than was pursuits, it is difficult to understand on what grounds his per. myself; for I could feel bis heart beat to his finger’s ends, unless, sonal qualities have been made the theme of discussion, to say indeed, it was the pulse of my own which made me think so. We nothing of angry vituperation, either in Memoirs of Lord B. or were but five minutes together, and on the public road; but I Reviews of those Memoirs. hardly recollect an hour of my existence which could be weighed Some unworthy reflections on the subject were hazarded in a against them.” – We may also quote the following interesting biographical sketch of the noble Poet, prefixed to a French transsentences of Madame Guiccioli :-“In 1822 (says she), a few days lation of one of his works, which appeared very shortly before ho before leaving Pisa, we were one evening seated in the garden left Genoa for Greece ; and the remarks which these drew from of the Palazzo Lanfranchi. At this moment a servant announced the son at the time will probably go far to soften the general imMr. Hobbouse. The slight shade of melancholy diffused over Lord pression respecting the father. As the letter which Lord Byron Byron's face gave instant place to the liveliest joy; but it was so addressed to the gentleman who had forwarded the offensive tract great, that il almost deprived him of strengtb. A fearful paleness from Paris has not hitherto been priated, and was probably the came over bis cheeks, and his eyes were filled with tears as he last he wrote before quitting Italy, we make no apology for the embraced his friend : his emotion was so great that he was forced length of the following extract :to sit down." - E.

Genoa, 10 th July, 1823. (3) In all the lives of Lord Byron hitherto published, the charac “As to the Essay, etc., I have nothing to object to it, with reler of the poet's father has been alluded to in terms of unmitigated gard to what concerns myself personally, though naturally there

For me how dull the vacant moments rise,
To no fond bosom link'd by kindred ties !
Oft, in the progress of some fleeting dream,
Fraternal smiles collected round me seem ;
While still the visions to my heart are prest,
The voice of love will murmur in my rest :
I hear-I wake and in the sound rejoice;
I hear again,-but, ah! no brother's voice.
A hermit, ‘midst of crowds, I fain must stray
Alone, though thousand pilgrims fill the way;
While these a thousand kindred wreaths entwine,
I cannot call one single blossom mine :
What then remains ? in solitude to groan,
To mix in friendship, or to sigh alone.(1)
Thus must I cling to some endearing hand,
And none more dear than JDA's social band.

ALONZO! (2) best and dearest of my friends,
Thy name ennobles him who thus commends :

From this fond tribute thou canst gain no praise ;
The praise is his who now that tribute pays.
Oh! in the promise of thy early youth,
If hope anticipate the words of truth,
Some loftier bard shall sing thy glorious name,
To build his own upon thy deathless fame.
! Friend of my heart! and foremost of the list
1 of those with whom I lived supremely blest,
Oft have we drain'd the font of ancient lore;
Though drinking deeply, thirsting still the more.
Yet, when confinement's lingering hour was done,(3)
Our sports, our studies, and our souls were one:
Together we impelld the flying ball;
Together waited in our tu!or's hall;
Together join'd in cricket's manly toil,
Or shared the produce of the river's spoil;
Or, plunging from the green declining shore,
Our pliant limbs the buojant billows bore;

are some of the facts in it discoloured, and sereral crrors into evil pleases him; but I desire that he should speak of my relawhich the author bas been led by the accounts of others. I allude lions only as they deserve. If you could find an occasion of 10 facts, and not criticisms. But the same author has cruelly ca- making him rectify the facts relative to my father, and pubumniated my father and my grand-uncle, but more especially the lish them, you would do me a great service ; for I cannot bear former. So far from being brutal,' he was according, to the testi to have him unjustly spokon os. mony of all who knew him, of an extremely amiable and joyous "P.S.-The 11th or 12th of this month I shall embark for character, but careless and dissipated. We had consequently the Greece. Should I return, I shall pass through Paris, and shall reputation of a good officer, and showed himself such in America. be much Mattered in meeting you and your friends. Should I The facts themselves refute the assertion. It is not by' bruta not relurn, give me as affectionate a place in your rememJily' that a young officer of the guards seduces and carries off a

brance as possible."-E. Marchioness, and marries iwo heiresses. It is true that he was (1) " It has been reserved for our own time to produce one a very handsome man, which goes a good way. Ilis first wise distinguished example of the Muse having descended upon a (Lady Conyers and Marchioness of Carmarthen) did not dic of bard of a wounded spirit, and lent her lyre to tell, and we trust grier, but of a malady which she caught by having imprudently to soothe, afflictions of no ordinary description ; afflictions oriinsisted upon accompanying my father to a hunt, before she was ginating probably in that singular combination of feeling completely recovered from the accouchement which gave birth to which has been called the poetical temperament, and which my sister Augusta. His second wise, ny respectable mother, had, has so often saddened the days of those on whom it has I assure you, 100 proud a spirit to bear with the ill usage of any | been conserred. If ever a man could lay claim 10 that chaman, no matter who he might be; and this she would have soon

racter in all its strength and all its weakness, with its unproved. I should add, that he lived a long time at Paris, and was bounded range of enjoyment, and its exquisite sensibility of in habits of intimacy with the old Marshal Byron, commandant of pleasure and of pain, it must certainly be granıcd to Lord the French guards, who, from the similarity of names, and Nor. Byron. llis own talc is partly cold in two lines of Lara : man origin of our family, supposed that there was some distant relationship between us. He died some years before the age of

Left by his sire, too young such loss to know,

Lord of himsell-that berilage of wor!'" Sir Wulier Scott..-L. forty; and wha:ever may have been his faults, they were certainly not those of harsliness and grossness. If the notice should reach (2) The llon. John Wingfield, of the Coldstream Guards, England, I am certain that the passage relative to my father will brother 10 Richard, fourth Viscount P’owerscourt. He died of give much more pain to my sister even than to me. Augusta and a fever, in his twentieth year, at Coimbra, May 141h 1811.-I have always loved the memory of our father as much as we “ of all human beings," says Lord Byron, " I was, perhaps, loved each other; and this at least forms a presumption, that the at one time the most allached 10 poor Wingtield. I had known stain of barshness was not applicable to it. If he dissipated his him the better hall of his life, and the happiest part of mine.” fortune, that concerns us alone, for we are his heirs; and till we On hearing of the death of his beloved schoolsel ow, be added reproach him with it, I know no one else who has a right to do so. the following stanzas to the first ranto of Childe Harold :

* As to the Lord Byron who killed Mr. Chaworth in a duel, " And thou, my friend !--since unavailing'woe
so far from retiring from the world, he made the lour of Eu Bursts from my lieart, and mingles with the strain-
rope, and was appointed Master of the Stag-hounds, after

Had the sword laid ibee with the mighty low,

Pride might forbid er'n Friendship to complain : that event; and did not give up society until his son bad

But thus unlaurel't to descend in vain, offended him by marrying in a manner contrary to his duty. By all forgollen, save the lonely breast, So far from feeling any remorse for having killed Dr. Cha And mir unbleeding with the bousted slain, worth, who was a spadassin, and celebrated for his quarrel

While Glory crowns so many a meaner crest! some disposition, he always kept the sword which he used

What badst thou done to sink so y cacefully tv rest? upon that occasion in his hedchamber, and there it still was “Oh, known the carliest, and esteem'd the most! when he died. It is singular enough, that when very young,

Dear to a heart where nought was left su dear! I formed a strong altachment for the grand-niece and heiress

Though to my hopeless day's fur ever lost, of Mr. Chaworth, who stood in the sa i e degree of relation

In dreams deny me not to sce thee here!" etc.-E. ship as myself to Lord Byron ; and at one time it was thought (3)“ There needs no beller record of his mode of life as a that a union would have takvo place. This is a long letter, schoolboy, than what these fondly circumstantial esfusions and principaily about my family; but it is the fault of my be- supply. Thus the sports he delighted and excelled in aro bere nevolent biographier. lle may say of ine whatever of good or enumeralcd." - Moore.

In every element, unchanged, the same,

Though yet in embryo these perfections shine, All, all that brothers should be, but the name. Lycus! thy father's fame will soon be thine. Nor yet are you forgot, my jocund boy!

Where learning nurtures the superior mind, Davus, (1) the harbinger of childish joy;

What may we hope from genius thus refined ! For ever foremost in the ranks of fun,

When time at length matures thy growing years, The laughing herald of the harmless pun;

How wilt thou tower above thy fellow peers! Yet with a breast of such materials made Prudence and sense, a spiri' bold and free, Anxious to please, of pleasing half afraid;

With honour's soul, united beam in thee. Candid and liberal, with a heart of steel

Shall fair EURYALLS (5) pass by unsung? In danger's path, though not untaught to feel.

From ancient lineage, not unworthy, sprung: Still I remember, in the factious strife,

What though one sad dissension bade us part, The ruslic's musket aim'd against my life :(2)

That name is yet embalm’d within my heart; High poised in air the massy weapon hung,

Yet at the mention does that heart rebound, A cry of horror burst from every tongue;

And palpitate, responsive to the sound. Whilst I, in combat with another foe,

Envy dissolved our ties, and not our will : Fought on, unconscious of the impending blow;

We once were friends,—I'll think we are so still.(6) Your arm, brave boy, arrested his career

A form unmatch’d in nature's partial mould, Forward you spruny, insensible to fear;

A heart untainted, we in thee behold : Disarm'd and baffled by your conquering hand,

Yet not the senate's thunder thou shalt wield, The grovelling savage rollid upon the sand :

Nor seek for glory in the tented field; An act like this, can simple thanks repay ? (3)

To minds of ruder texture these be givenOr all the labours of a grateful lay?

Thy soul shall nearer soar its native heaven. Oh no! whene'er my breast forgets the deed,

Haply, in polish'd courts might be thy seat, That instant, Davus, it deserves to bleed.

But that thy longue could never forge deceit : Lycus!(4) on me thy claims are justly great : The courtier's supple bow and sneering smile, Thy milder virtues could my muse relate, The flow of compliment, the slippery wile, To thee alone, unrivalld, would belong

Would make that breast with indignation burn, The feeble efforts of my lengthen’d song.

And all the glittering snares to tempt thee spurn. Well canst thou boast, to lead in senates fit, Domestic happiness will stamp thy fate; A Spartan firmness with Athenian wit :

Sacred to love, unclouded e'er by hate; (1) The Rev. John Cecil Tattersall, B. A., of Christ Church, to my study in consequence of some childish misunderstanding, Oxford; who died Dec. 8, 1812, at Hall's Place, Kent, aged-the only one which ever arose between us. It was of short twediy-four. “His mind,” says a writer in the Gent. Mag., duration, and I retain this note solely for the purpose of sub

" was comprehensive and perspicuous; his affections warm and milling it to his perusal, that we may smile over the recollecsincere. Through extreme aversion to hypocrisy, he was so far tion of the insignificance of our first and last quarrel. "-E. fron assuming the false appearances of virtue, that much of (6) George-John, listh Earl Delaware, born Oct. 26, 1791; bis real excellence was unseen, whilst he was eager to acknow- succeeded hs father, John Richard, July 28, 1798. This ancient ledge every fault into wbich he was led. He was an ardent ramily have been barons by the male line from 1342; their friend, a stranger to feelings of enmity; he lived in good faith ancestor, Sir Thomas West, having been summoned to parliatowards men, and died with hope in God."-E.

ment as Lord West, the 10th Edw. II. We find the following 2) The “ factious strise” here recorded, was accidentally notices in some hitherto unpublished letters of Lord Byron :-brought on by the breaking up of school, and the dismissal of Harrow, Oct. 25, 1804.-I am happy enough and comfortable

some volunteers from drill, both happening at the same hour. here. My friends are not numerous, but select. Among the On this occasion, it appears, the butt-end of a musket was principal, I rank Lord Delaware, who is very amiable, and my aimed at Byron's bead, and would have selled him to the ground, particular friend.” “Nov. 2, 1804. – Lord Delaware is consibut for the interposition of Tattersall..-E.

derably younger than me, but the most good-tempered, amiable, (3) In the private volume:

clever fellow in the universe. To all which he adds the qua“ Thus did you save that life I scarcely prize

lity ( a good one in the eyes of women) of being remarkably A life unworthy such a sacrifice."-E.

handsome. Delaware and myself are, in a manner, connected, (6Jobn Fitzgibbon, second Earl of Clare, born June 2, 1792. for one of my forefathers, in Charles the First's time, married His fatber, whom be succeeded Jan. 28, 1802, was for nearly into their family.”– E. twelve years Lord Chancellor of Ireland. See anle, p. 3. c. 1, (6) It is impossible to peruse the following extract of a letler, note 3. His Lordship is now (1834) Governor of Bombay. “I addressed 10 Lord Clare in February, 1807, without acknowledgdever," Lord Byron says, in 1821, “ hear the word • Clare,'|ing the noble candour and conscientiousness of the writer.vitboot a beating of the heart even now; and I write it with “You will be astonished to hear I have lately written to Deiathe feelings of 1803-4-5, ad infinitum." of the tenaciousness ware, for the purpose of explaining (as far as possible, without with which be cluog to all the kindly impressions of his youth. involving some old friends of mine in the business,) the cause ibere can be no stronger proof than the interesting fact, that of my beliaviour to him during my last residence at Harrow, after bis death almost all the notes and letters which his prin- which you will recollect was rather en cavalier. Since that eipal school favourites bad ever addressed to him were found period I have discovered he was treated with injustice, both carefully preserved among his papers. The following is the by those who misrepresented his conduct, and by me in conendorsement upon one of them : -"This and another letter sequence of their suggestions. I have therefore, made all the

were written at Harrow, by my then and, I hope, ever beloved reparation in my power, by apologizing for my mistake, friend, Lord Clare, when we were both schoolboys; and send though with very raint hopes of success. However, I have

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