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dance together. An old man of one of them enters, and reproves the young men for dancing with the females of the opposite family. The male relatives of the latter resent this. Both parties rush home, and arm themselves. They meet directly, by moonlight, in the public way, and fight t out. Three are killed on the spot, and six wounded, mos of them dangerously,-pretty well for two families, me thinks-and all fact, of the last week. Another assassiration has taken place at Cesenna,—in all about forty in Romagna within these last three months. These people retain much of the middle ages.

"February 15, 1821. "Last night finished the first act of Sardanapalus. Tonight, or to-morrow, I ought to answer letters.

"February 16, 1821.

ballad on Charlotte Lynes, given in Miss Seward's Memoirs of Darwin, which is pretty-I quote from memory of these last fifteen years.

For my first night I'll go

To those regions of snow,
Where the sun for six months never shines;
And think, even then,

He too soon came again,

To disturb me with fair Charlotta Lynes.'

"To-day I have had no communication with my Carbonari cronies; but, in the mean time, my lower apart. ments are full of their bayonets, fusils, cartridges, and what not. I suppose that they consider me as a depot, to be sacrificed, in case of accidents. It is no great matter, supposing that Italy could be liberated, who or what is sacrificed. It is a grand object-the very poetry of politics. Only think-a free Italy!!! Why, there has been "Last night I! Conte P. G. sent a man with a bag full nothing like it since the days of Augustus. I reckon the of bayonets, some muskets, and some hundreds of car- times of Cæsar (Julius) free; because the commotions tridges to my house, without apprizing me, though I had left every body a side to take, and the parties were pretty seen him not half an hour before. About ten days ago, equal at the set out. But, afterward, it was all Pretorian when there was to be a rising here, the Liberals and my and legionary business-we shall see, or at least, some brethren C1. asked me to purchase some arms for a cer-will see, what card will turn up. It is best to hope, even tain few of our ragamuffins. I did so immediately, and of the hopeless. The Dutch did more than these fellows ordered ammunition, &c. and they were armed accord-have to do, in the Seventy Years' War.

ingly. Well--the rising is prevented by the Barbarians marching a week sooner than appointed; and an order is "February 19, 1821. issued, and in force, by the Government, that all persons "Came home solus-very high wind-lightninghaving arms concealed, &c. &c. shall be liable to,' &c. moonshine-solitary stragglers muffled in cloaks-women &c. and what do my friends, the patriots, do two days in mask-white houses-clouds hurrying over the sky, like afterward? Why, they throw back upon my hands, and spilt milk blown out of the pail-altogether very poetical. into my house, these very arms (without a word of warn-It is still blowing hard-the tiles flying, and the house ing previously) with which I had furnished them at their own request, and at my own peril and expense.

"It was lucky that Lega was at home to receive them. If any of the servants had (except Tita and F. and Lega) they would have betrayed it immediately. In the mean time, if they are denounced, or discovered, I shall be in a scrape.

"At nine went out at eleven returned. Beat the crow for stealing the falcon's victuals. Read 'Tales of my Landlord'-wrote a letter-and mixed a moderate beaker of water with other ingredients.

"February 18, 1821.

"The news are that the Neapolitans have broken a bridge, and slain four pontifical carabiniers, whilk carabiniers, wished to oppose. Besides the disrespect to neutrality, it is a pity that the first blood shed in this German quarrel should be Italian. However, the war seems begun in good earnest; for, if the Neapolitans kill the Pope's carabiniers, they will not be more delicate towards the Barbarians. If it be even so, in a short time, 'there will be news o' thae craws,' as Mrs. Alison Wilson says of Jenny Blane's 'unco cockernony' in the Tales of my Landlord.

"In turning over Grimm's Correspondence to-day, I found a thought of Tom Moore's in a song of Maupertuis to a temale Laplander.

This is Moore s→→→

Et tous les lieux,

Où sont ses yeux,

Font la Zone brûlante.'

And those yes make my climate, wherever I roam.' But I am sure that Moore never saw it; for this song was published in Grimm's Correspondence in 1813, and I knew Moore's by heart in 1812. There is also another but an antithetical coincidence.

'Le soleil luit,

Des jours sans nuit

Bientôt il nous destine;

Mais ces longs jours

Seront trop courts,

Passés près des Christine.'

This is the thought, reversed, of the last stanza of the

rocking-rain splashing-lightning flashing-quite a fine Swiss Alpine evening, and the sea roaring in the distance. "Visited-conversazione. All the women frightened by the squall: they won't go to the masquerade because it lightens-the pious reason!

"Still blowing away. A. has sent me some news today. The war approaches nearer and nearer. Oh those scoundrel sovereigns! Let us but see them beaten-let the Neapolitans but have the pluck of the Dutch of old, or of the Spaniards of now, or of the German Protestants, the Scotch Presbyterians, the Swiss under Tell, or the Greeks under Themistocles-all small and solitary nations, (except the Spaniards and German Lutherans,) and there is yet a resurrection for Italy, and a hope for the world

"February 20, 1821

"The news of the day are, that the Neapolitans are full of energy. The public spirit here is certainly well kept up. The 'Americani' (a patriotic society here, an underbranch of the "Carbonari') give a dinner, in the Forest in a few days, and have invited me, as one of the C1. It is to be in the Forest of Boccacio's and Dryden's 'Huntsman's Ghost; and, even if I had not the same political feelings, (to say nothing of my old convivial turn, which every now and then revives,) I would go as a poet, or, at least, as a lover of poetry. I shall expect to see the spectre of 'Ostasio degli Onesti' (Dryden has turned him into Guido Cavalcanti-an essentially different person, as may be found in Dante) come 'thundering for his prey't in the midst of the festival. At any rate, whether he does or no I will get as tipsy and patriotic as possible. "Within these few days I have read, but not written

"February 21, 1821.

*As usual, rode-visited, &c. Business begins to thicken. The Pope has printed a declaration against the patriots, who, he says, meditate a rising. The conse quence of all this will be, that, in a fortnight, the whole country will be up. The proclamation is not yet published, but printed, ready for distribution. ** sent me a copy privately-a sign that he does not know what to think

• In Boccacio, the name is, I think, Nestagic.

† See Don Juan, Canto 3d, 105 and 106.

When he wants to be well with the patriots, he sends to me some civil message or other.

"For my own part, it seems to me, that nothing but the most decided success of the Barbarians can prevent a general and immediate rise of the whole nation.

"February 23, 1821. "Almost ditto with yesterday-rode, &c.-visited wrote nothing-read Roman History. "Had a curious letter from a fellow, who informs me that the Barbarians are ill-disposed towards me. He is probably a spy, or an impostor. But be it so, even as he says. They cannot bestow their hostility on one who loathes and execrates them more than I do, or who will oppose their views with more zeal, when the opportunity

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matter!!!

"Thus the world goes; and thus the Italians are always lost for lack of union among themselves. What is to be done here, between the two fires, and cut off from the Na. frontier, is not decided. My opinion was, better to rise than be taken in detail; but how it will be settled now, I cannot tell. Messengers are despatched to the delegates of the other cities to learn their resolutions.

"I always had an idea that it would be bungled ; but was willing to hope, and am so still. Whatever I can do by money, means, or person, I will venture freely for their freedom; and have so repeated to them (some of the Chiefs here) half an hour ago. I have two thousand five hundred scudi, better than five hundred pounds, in the house, which I offered to begin with.

"February 25, 1821. "Came home-my head aches-plenty of news, but too resome to set down. I have neither read, nor written, nor thought, but led a purely animal life all day. I mean to try to write a page or two before I go to bed. But, as Squire Sullen says, 'My head aches consumedly: Scrub, bring me a dram!" Drank some Imola wine, and some punch.

Log-book continued.*

*February 27, 1821.

"I have been a day without continuing the log, because I could not find a blank book. At length I recollected this. "Rode, &c.-dined-wrote down an additional stanza for the 5th canto of D. J. which I had composed in bed this morning. Visited Amica. We are invited on the night of the Veglione, (next Domenica) with the Marchesa Clelia Cavalli and the Countess Spinelli Rusponi. I promised to go. Last night there was a row at the ball,

In another paper-book.

of which I am a 'socio.' The vice-legate had the impu dent insolence to introduce three of his servants in maskwithout tickets, too! and in spite of remonstrances. The consequence was, that the yourg men of the ball took it up, and were near throwing the vice-legate out of the window. His servants, seeing the scene, withdrew, and he after them. His reverence Monsignore ought to know that these are not times for the predominance of priests over decorum. Two minutes more, two eps farther, and the whole city would have been in arms, and the govern

ment driven out of it.

"Such is the spirit of the day, and these fellows appear not to perceive it. As far as the simple fact went, the young men were right, servants being prohibited always at these festivals.

"Yesterday wrote two notes on the 'Bowles and Pope controversy, and sent them off to Murray by the post. The old woman whom I relieved in the forest (she is ninetyNam vita gaudet mortua floribus.' I was much pleased four years of age) brought me two bunches of violets. with the present. An Englishwoman would have presented a pair of worsted stockings, at least, in the month of February. Both excellent things; but the former are more elegant. The present, at this season, reminds on of Gray's stanza, omitted from his elegy.

Here scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year,

By hands unseen, are showers of violets found;
The redbreast loves to build and warbie here,
And little footsteps lightly print the ground.'

As fine a stanza as any in his elegy. I wonder that he

could have the heart to omit it.

"Last night I suffered horribly-from an indigestion, I believe. I never sup- that is, never at home. But, last night, I was prevailed upon by the Countess Gamba's persuasion, and the strenuous example of her brother, to swallow, at supper, a quantity of boiled cockles, and to dilute them, not reluctantly, with some Imola wine. When I came home, apprehensive of the consequences, I swallowed three or four glasses of spirits, which men (the venders) call brandy, rum, or Hollands, but which gods would entitle spirits of wine, coloured or sugared. All was pretty well till I got to bed, when I became somewhat swollen, and considerably vertiginous. I got out, and mixing some soda-powders, drank them off. This brought on temporary relief. I returned to bed; but grew sick and sorry once and again. Took more soda-water. At last I fell into a dreary sleep. Woke, and was ill all day, till I had galloped a few miles. Query-was it the cockles, or what I took to correct them, that caused the commotion? I think both. I remarked in my illness the complete inertion, inaction, and destruction of my chief mental faculties. I tried to rouse them, and yet could notand this is the Soul!!! I should believe that it was mar ried to the body, if they did not sympathize so much with each other. If the one rose, when the other fell, it would be a sign that they longed for the natural state of divorco. But, as it is, they seem to draw together like posthorses "Let us hope the best-it is the grand possession."

* Bee Journal, Jan. 26

DETACHED THOUGHTS.

(EXTRACTED FROM VARIOUS JOURNALS, MEMORANDUMS, &c. &c.)

Js the first leaf of his "Scriptores Græci" is in his 'Grammar School' (Scoticè, 'Schule; Aberdono, schoolboy hand, the following memorial:-"George Gor-'Squeel,') where I threaded all the classes to the fourth don Byron, Wednesday, June 26th, A. D. 1805, S quarters when I was recalled to England (where I had been of an hour past 3 o'clock in the afternoon, 3d school,-hatched) by the demise of my uncle. I acquired this Calvert, monitor, Tom Wildman on my left hand, and handwriting, which I can hardly read myself, under the Long on my right. Harrow on the Hill." On the same fair copies of Mr. Duncan of the same city: I don't leaf, written five years after, appears this comment:

"Eheu fugaces, Posthume! Posthume!
Labuntur anni.

think he would plume himself much upon my progress. However, I wrote much better then than I have ever done since. Haste and agitation of one kind or another 'B. January 9th, 1809.-Of the four persons whose have quite spoiled as pretty a scrawl as ever scratched names are here mentioned, one is dead, another in a dis-over a frank. The grammar school might consist of a tant climate, all separated, and not five years have elapsed since they sat together in school, and none are yet twentyone years of age."

In some of his other school books are recorded the date of his entrance at Harrow, the names of the boys who were at that time monitors, and the list of his fellow-pupils under Doctor Drury, as follows:

hundred and fifty of all ages under age. It was divided the fourth and fifth himself. As in England, the fifth, into five classes taught by four masters, the chief teaching sixth forms, and monitors, are heard by the head masters."

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"I doubt sometimes whether, after all, a quiet and unagitated life would have suited me; yet I sometimes long for it. My earliest dreams (as most boys' dreams are) were martial; but a little later they were all for love and retirement, till the hopeless attachment to M***

"Byron, Harrow on the Hill, Middlesex, Alumnus Scholae Lyonensis primus in anno Domini 1801, Ellison Duce." "Monitors, 1801.-Ellison, Royston, Hunxman, Rash-C✶✶✶ began and continued (though sedulously conleigh, Rokeby, Leigh."

"Drury's Pupils, 1804.-Byron, Drury, Sinclair, Hoare, Bolder, Annesley, Calvert, Strong, Acland, Gordon, Drummond."

cealed) very early in my teens; and so upwards for a time. This threw me out again 'alone on a wide, wide sea.' In the year 1804, I recollect meeting my sister at General Harcourt's in Portland-place. I was then one thing, and as she had always till then found me. When we met again in 1805, (she told me since) my temper and disposition were so completely altered that I was hardly to be recognised. I was not then sensible of the change; but I can believe it, and account for it."

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"In a!! other respects," (he says, after mentioning his infant passion for Mary Duff,) "I differed not at all from other children, being neither tall nor short, dull nor witty, of my age, but rather lively-except in my sullen moods and then I was always a devil. They once (in one of my silent rages) wrenched a knife from me, which I had snatched from table at Mrs. B.'s dinner, (I always dined earlier,) and applied to my breast;-but this was three or four years after, just before the late Lord B.'s decease.

"For several years of my earliest childhood, I was in Aberdeen, but have never revisited it since I was ten years old. I was sent, at five years old or earlier, to a school kept by a Mr. Bowers, who was called 'Bodsy Bowers,' by reason of his dapperness. It was a school for both sexes. I learned little there except to repeat by "ote the first lesson of Monosyllables (God made man' ~'Let us love him') by hearing it often repeated, without acquiring a letter. Whenever proof was made of my progress at home, I repeated these words with the most rapid fluency; but on turning over a new leaf, I continued to repeat them, so that the narrow boundaries of my first year's accomplishments were detected, my ears boxed, (which they did not deserve, seeing it was by ear only that I had acquired my letters,) and my intellects con- "My ostensible temper has certainly improved in later signed to a new preceptor. He was a very devout, clever years; but I shudder, and must, to my latest hour, regret little clergyman, named Ross, afterward minister of one the consequence of it and my passions combined. One of the kirks, (East, I think.) Under him I made asto-event-but no matter-there are others not much better nishing progress, and I recollect to this day his mild man-to think of also and to them I give the preference.. ners and good-natured pains-taking. The moment I "But I hate dwelling upon incidents. My temper is could read, my grand passion was history, and, why I know not, but I was particularly taken with the battle near the Lake Regillus in the Roman History, put into my hands the first. Four years ago, when standing on the heights of Tusculum, and looking down upon the little round lake that was once Regillus, and which dots the immense expanse below, I remembered my young enthu- "My passions were developed very early-so early siasm and my old instructer. Afterward I had a very that few would believe me if I were to state the period serious, saturnine, but kind young man, named Paterson, and the facts which accompanied it. Perhaps this was for a tutor. He was the son of my shoemaker, but a one of the reasons which caused the anticipated melangood scholar, as is common with the Scotch. He was a rigid Presbyterian also. With him I began Latin in Ruddiman's grammar, and continued till I went to the

now under management-rarely loud, and, when loud, never deadly. It is when silent, and I feel my forehead and my cheek paling, that I cannot control it; and then but unless there is a woman (and not any or every woman) in the way, I have sunk into tolerable apathy."

.....

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choly of my thoughts,-having anticipated life. My earlier poems are the thoughts of one at least ten years older than the age at which they were written,-I dont

mean for their solidity, but their experience. The first and the whole went off with great effect upor, our goodtwo Cantos of Childe Harold were completed at twenty-natured audience." two; and they are written as if by a man older than I shall probably ever be."

*

"When I first went up to college, it was a new and a heavy-hearted scene for me: firstly, I so much disliked

My first dash into poetry was as early as 1800. It leaving Harrow, that though it was time, (I being sever was the ebullition of a passion for my first cousin, Mar-teen,) it broke my very rest for the last quarter with garet Parker, (daughter and granddaughter of the two counting the days that remained. I always hated Harrow Amirals Parker,) one of the most beautiful of evanes- till the last year and a half, but then I liked it. Secondly, ce beings. I have long forgotten the verses, but it I wished to go to Oxford and not to Cambridge. Thirdly would be difficult for me to forget her-her dark eyes-I was so completely alone in this new world, that it half her 1 ng eyelashes-her completely Greek cast of face broke my spirits. My companions were not unsocial, and figure! I was then about twelve-she rather older, but the contrary-lively, hospitable, of rank and fortune, perhaps a year. She died about a year or two afterward, and gay far beyond my gayety. I mingled with, and in consequence of a fall, which injured her spine, and dined and supped, &c. with them; but, I know not how, induced consumption. Her sister Augusta (by some it was one of the deadliest and heaviest feelings of my thought still more beautiful) died of the same malady; life to feel that I was no longer a boy."

and it was, indeed, in attending her, that Margaret met "From that moment" (he adds) "I began to grow old with the accident which occasioned her own death. My in my own esteem, and in my esteem age is not estimasister told me, that when she went to see her, shortly ble. I took my gradations in the vices with great promp before her death, upon accidentally mentioning my name, titude, but they were not to my taste; for my early pasMargaret coloured through the paleness of mortality to sions, though violent in the extreme, were concentrated, the eyes, to the great astonishment of my sister, who and hated division or spreading abroad. I could have (residing with her grandmother, Lady Holderness, and left or lost the whole world with, or for, that which I seeing but little of me, for family reasons) knew nothing loved; but, though my temperament was naturally burnof our attachment, nor could conceive why my name ing, I could not share in the commonplace libertinism of should affect her at such a time. I knew nothing of her the place and time without disgust. And yet this very illness, being at Harrow and in the country, till she was disgust, and my heart thrown back upon itself, threw me gone. Some years after, I made an attempt at an elegy into excesses perhaps more fatal than those from which I -a very dull one.* shrunk, as fixing upon one (at a time) the passions which spread among many would have hurt only myself."

"I do not recollect scarcely any thing equal to the insparent beauty of my cousin, or to the sweetness of her temper, during the short period of our intimacy. She looked as if she had been made out of a rainbow-all beauty and peace.

*

had never read a Review. But while at Harrow, my "Till I was eighteen years old (odd as it may seem) [ "My passion had its usual effects upon me-I could general information was so great on modern topics as to not sleep-I could not eat-I could not rest; and although mation from Reviews, because I was never seen reading. induce a suspicion that I could only collect so much inforI had reason to know that she loved me, it was the texture but always idle, and in mischief, or at play. The truth is, of my life to think of the time which must elapse before that I read eating, read in bed, read when no one else we could meet again-being usually about twelve hours of separation! But I was a fool then, and am not much

wiser now."

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"When I was fifteen years of age, it happened that, in a cavern in Derbyshire, I had to cross in a boat, (in which two people only could lie down,) a stream which flows under a rock, with the rock so close upon the water as to admit the boat only to be pushed on by a ferryman (a sort of Charon) who wades at the stern, stooping all the time. The companion of my transit was Mary Anne Chaworth, with whom I had been long in love and never told it, though she had discovered it without. I recollect my sensations, but cannot describe them, and it is as well. We were a party, a Mr. W. two Miss W.'s, Mr. and Mrs. Cl-ke, Miss R. and my M. A. C. Alas! why do I say My? Our union would have healed feuds in which blood had been shed by our fathers, it would have joined lands broad and rich, it would have joined at least one heart, and two persons not ill matched in years, (she is two years my elder,) and-and-and-what has been

the result?"

"When I was a youth, I was reckoned a good actor. Besides' Harrow Speeches', (in which I shone,) I enacted Penruddock, in the 'Wheel of Fortune,' and Tristram Fickle in Allingham's farce of the Weathercock,' for three nights, (the duration of our compact,) in some private theatricals at Southwell, in 1806, with great applause. The occasional prologue for our volunteer play was also of my composition. The other performers were young ladies and gentlemen of the neighbourhood,

• Sec preceding Memoranda, on page 229.

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

a

"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, among 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 schoolboy out of school, I wa always in scrapes, and he never; and

in who, 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.

thee, my Lord Biron,' in Shakspeare, to Churchill the poet, to Kean the actor, to Alfieri, &c. &c. &c.

"The likeness to Alfieri was asserted very seriously by an Italian who had known him in his younger days. It The prodigy of our school-days was George Sinclair, of course related merely to our apparent personal dispo (son of Sir John;) he made exercises for half the school, sitions. He did not assert it to me, (for we were not then (literally,) verses at will, and themes without it. ***good friends,) but in society.

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He was a friend of mine, and in the same remove, and "The object of so many contradictory comparisons used at times to beg me to let him do my exercise, a must probably be like something different from them all; request always most readily accorded upon a pinch, or but what that is, is more than I know, or anybody else." 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.*

"Clayton was another school-monster of learning, and talent, and hope; but what has become of him I do not know. He was certainly a genius.

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My school friendships were with me passions, (for was always violent,) but I do not know that there is one which has endured (to be sure some have been cut short by death) till now. That with Lord Clare began one of the earliest and lasted longest-being only interrupted by distance that I know of. I never hear the word Clare' without a beating of the heart even now, and I write it with the feelings of 1803-4-5 ad infinitum."

"My mother, before I was twenty, would have it that I too in 1813, and the Edinburgh Review has something of was like Rousseau, and Madame de Staël used to say so the sort in its critique on the fourth Canto of Childe Harold. I can't see any point of resemblance:-ho wrote prose; I verse: he was of the people; I of the aristocracy:* he was a philosopher; I am none: he published his first work at forty; I mine at eighteen: his first essay brought him universal applause; mine the house with my wife: he thought all the world in a plot contrary: he married his housekeeper; I could not keep against him, my little world seems to think me in a plot against it, if I may judge by their abuse in print and coterie: he liked botany; I like flowers, herbs, and trees, but know nothing of their pedigrees: he wrote music; I limit my knowledge of it to what I catch by earI never could learn any thing by study, not even a language-it was all by rote, and ear, and memory: he had a bad "At Harrow I fought my way very fairly. I think I lost but one battle out of seven; and that was to Hthe poet-a good judge, for he has an astonishing one :) memory; I had, at least, an excellent one, (ask Hodgson, -and the rascal did not win it, but by the unfair treat- he wrote with hesitation and care; I with rapidity, and ment of his own boarding-house, where we boxed-I had rarely with pains: he could never ride, nor swim, nor not even a second. I never forgave him, and I should be was cunning of fence;' I am an excellent swimmer, a sorry to meet him now, as I am sure we should quarrel.decent, though not at all a dashing, rider, (having staved My most memorable combats were with Morgan, Rice, in a rib at eighteen in the course of scampering,) and Rainsford, and Lord Jocelyn,-but we were always was sufficient of fence, particularly of the Highland friendly afterward. I was a most unpopular boy, but led broadsword,—not a bad boxer, when I could keep my latterly, and have retained many of my school friendships, temper, which was difficult, but which I strove to do ever and all my dislikes-except to Doctor Butler, whom I since I knocked down Mr. Purling, and put his kneepan treated rebelliously, and have been sorry ever since. out (with the gloves on,) in Angelo's and Jackson's Doctor Drury, whom I plagued sufficiently too, was the rooms, in 1806, during the sparring, and I was besides a best, the kindest (and yet strict, too) friend I ever had-very fair cricketer-one of the Harrow eleven, when wo and I look upon him still as a father. played against Eton in 1805. Besides, Rousseau's way "P. Hunter, Curzon, Long, and Tatersall, were my of life, his country, his manners, his whole character, principal friends. Clare, Dorset, C. Gordon, De Bath, were so very different, that I am at a loss to conceive how Claridge, and Joo. Wingfield, were my juniors and favour-such a comparison could have arisen, as it has done three ites, whom I spoiled by indulgence. Of all human several times, and all in rather a remarkable manner. I beings, I was, perhaps, at one time, the most attached to forgot to say that he was also shortsighted, and that poor Wingfield, who died at Coimbra, 1811, before I returned to England."

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*

"I have been thinking over, the other day, on the various comparisons, good or evil, which I have seen published of myself in different journals, English and foreign. This was suggested to mo by accidentally turning over a foreign one lately, for I have made it a rule latterly never to search for any thing of the kind, but not to avoid the perusal if presented by chance.

hitherto my eyes have been the contrary, to such a degree, that in the largest theatre of Bologna I distinguished and read some busts and inscriptions painted near the stage from a box so distant and so darkly lighted, that none of the company (composed of young and very bright-eyed people, some of them in the same box) could make out a letter, and thought it was a trick, though I had never been in that theatre before.

"Altogether, I think myself justified in thinking the comparison not well founded. I do n't say this out of "To begin, then: I have seen myself compared per-pique, for Rousseau was a great man, and the thing, if sonally or poetically, in English, French, German, (as true, were flattering enough;-but I have no idea of interpreted to me,) Italian, and Portuguese, within these being pleased with a chimera." nine years, to Rousseau, Goethe, Young, Aretine, Timon *

*

*

of Athens, Dante, Petrarch, 'an alabaster vase, lighted up "I have been thinking of an odd circunstance. My within,' Satan, Shakspeare, Buonaparte, Tiberius, Eschy-daughter, (1) my wife, (2) my half-sister, (3) my mother, lus, Sophocles, Euripides, Harlequin, the Clown, Stern- (4) my sister's mother, (5) my natural daughter, (6) and hold and Hopkins, to the phantasmagoria, to Henry the myself, (7) are, or were, all only children. My sister's Eighth, to Chenier, to Mirabeau, to young R. Dallas, mother (Lady Conyers) had only my half-sister by that (the schoolboy,) to Michael Angelo, to Raphael, to a second marriage, (herself, too, an only child,) and my petit-maitre, to Diogenes, to Childe Harold, to Lara, to father had only me, an only child, by his second marriage the Count in Beppo, to Milton, to Pope, to Dryden, to with my mother, an only child too. Such a complication Purns, to Savage, to Chatterton, to 'oft have I heard of of only children, all tending to one family, is singular

• See Child Harold. Canto 1. Note 19

See Letter 33.

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