LIFE OF
•n the poems of this noble minor, it seems we musttake them as we find them, and be content: forthey are the last we shall ever get from him. Heis at best, he says, but an intruder into the grovesof Parnassus; he never lived in a garret, likethoroughbred poets; and though he once roved, acareless mountaineer, ;in the ‘ Highlands of Scot-land, ’ he haB not of late enjoyed this advantage.Moreover, he expects no profit from his publication;and whether it succeeds or not, ‘ it is highly im-probable, from his situation and pursuits hereafter,’that he should again condescend to become anauthor. Therefore let us take what we can get,and be thankful. What right have we poor devilsto be nice? We are well off to have got so muchfrom a man of this lords station, who does notlive in a garret, but has the sway of NewsteadAbbey . Again we say, let us be thankful, and withhonesty bid God bless the giver, nor look a gifthorse in the mouth. ” >
At the time, Byron and the generality of peoplebelieved that this ungenerous critique proceededfrom the pen of Francis Jeffrey , the acknowledgededitor of the “ Edinburgh Review.” This, however,was a mistake; for it is now well known that thewriter was Henry Brougham , then, and for someyears after, the most copious, vigorous, and, soothto say, unscrupulous contributor to the famousLiberal “ Quarterly.”
Byron affected to make light of this attack uponhim; he even pretended to take it as a complimentthat his work should have been noticed at all, anddeclared that he himself could have written a farmore cutting and sarcastic criticism on his ownpoems, than the one in question.
The fact was, however, that he keenly felt, andfiercely reseuted, the scornful manner in whichhis juvenile effusions had been treated.
How he retaliated on his assailant, the wholeworld knows. In March, 1809, he published his41 English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” universallyadmitted to be the most vigorous, witty, humorous,and successful satire of the kind that has ap-peared in the English language since the publica-tion of the Dunciad. But, in his great revenge,Byron was more unjust even than the 44 EdinburghReviewer.” For he punished the innocent as wellas the guilty; he confounded friends with foes;and, in fact, ran an indiscriminate muck at almostevery living literary celebrity. This error, LordByron , seven years after the publication of thesatire, frankly acknowledged. In a note, datedGenoa, 1816, he says:— 44 The greater part of thissatire I most sincerely wish I had never written;not only on account of the injustice of much ofthe critical and personal part of it, but the toheand temper of it are such as I cannot approve.”
In after years, some of the persons most merci-lessly lampooned in the satire, such as Sir WalterScott, Lord Jeffrey , the supposed author of theoffending critique, and his great friend and futurebiographer, the poet Moore, were among the per-sons for whom he cherished the most cordialesteem.
A little previously to the publication of hissatire, Byron took his seat in the House of Lords .Gu this occasion, he seems to have had a keen£ n d painful sense of the loneliness of his position;be had not a single friend among the peers to in-troduce him. fie was received in one of the ante-chambers by some of the officers in attendance,With whom he settled respecting the fees he had
to pay. One of them went to apprize the Lord.Chancellor (Eldon) of his being there, and soonreturned with him. There were very few personsin the House . Lord Eldon was going througfcsome ordinary business. Lord Byron looked paleand anxious. He passed the woolsack withoutlooking round, and advanced to the table to takethe oaths.
When he had gone through them, the Chancellorrose from his seat, and went towards Lord Byron with a smile, and holding out his hand, cordiallywelcomed him, and paid him some compliment.This, however, was all thrown away upon Byron ,who made a stiff bow, and put the tips of hisfingers in the Chancellor’s hand. Lord Eldon didnot press a welcome so coldly received, but resumedhis seat, while Byron carelessly seated himself fora few minutes on one of the empty benches to tholeft of the throne, usually occupied by the lords inOpposition.
Lord Byron explained the cause of his frigid re-sponse to Lord Eldon’s friendly advance. “If/he said, “ 1 had shaken hands heartily, he wouldhave set me down for one of his party: but I willhave nothing to do with any of them; I have takenmy seat, and now I will go abroad.”
A few days after this event, the satire made itsappearance, and then it was almost immediatelyfelt that a new and a great power had risen in theliterary world. It is painful to relate that, aboutthis time, Byron fell into a career of dissipation,too prevalent among the youthful possessors ofrank and fortune, when altogether uncontrolled.Thus his fortune became deeply involved before heattained his legal maturity; his health, also, wasgreatly impaired by the excesses in which he in-dulged. Such a course of life could not long last;and in the year 1809 he determined to travel.
About the end of June, 1809, Lord Bvron'and hiscollege companion, Sir John Cam Hobhouse , after-wards Lord Broughton , sailed together from Fal-mouth for Lisbon . After a brief sojourn in thePortuguese capital, they proceeded to Seville, Cadiz ,Gibraltar, Malta, and afterwards to Albania , inwhich country they landed on the 29th September.Here he was introduced to the celebrated AliPasha ; and here, at Joannina, he began his mag-nificent poem of “ Childe Harold .” From tiffstime, until the middle of the spring of 1811, LordByron was engaged in visiting several parts ofGreece, Turkey, and Asia Minor. At Athens ,Smyrna, and Constantinople , he spent a consider-able part of his time. Again, on his return, hetouched at Malta , quitted it on the 2nd of June,and early in July, after an absence of two years,he landed in England. At this time, he sufferedunder a deep mental gloom. “ Embarrassed inmy private affairs,” he writes; “indifferent topublic; solitary without the wish to be social;with a body a little enfeebled ny a Succession offevtrs—but a spirit, I trust, yet unbroken—I am re-turning home without hope, and almost without adesire.”
Soon after his arrival in England, he was sum-moned to Newstead in consequence of the dan-gerous illness of his mother; but, on the 1st ofAugust, she breathed her last before he could reachher. The death of his mother made a profoundimpression upon Byron : though keenly alive to herweaknesses, he was deeply attached to her; andthis feeling she, in her own wayward, capriciousmanner, passionately returned. About the same