saw Byron have borne testimony to the irresistible sweetness of his smile, which was generally, however, succeeded by a sudden pouting of the lips, such as is practised sometimes by a pretty coquette, or by a spoiled child. His hair was partially grizzled, but curled naturally. In conversation, owing to a habit he had contracted of clenching his teeth close together, it was sometimes difficult to comprehend him distinctly; towards the conclusion of a sentence, the syllables rolled in his mouth, and became a sort of indis

tinct murmur.

It must have been almost impossible, I apprehend, for any artist to seize fully the expression of Byron's countenance, which was varying at every moment, as different ideas suggested themselves to his powerful mind. I have never seen any likeness that conveyed to me a perfect resemblance of his Lordship, with the exception of a marble bust, which was in the drawingroom of the late Honourable Douglas Kinnaird, executed, I think, by Thordwaldson. It struck me as being very like him.

Lord Byron was habited in a round nankeen embroidered jacket, white Marseilles vest, buttoned a very little way up; he wore extremely fine linen, and his shirt-collar was thrown over in such a way as almost to uncover his neck; very long wide nankeen trowsers, fastened below, short buff laced boots, and sometimes gaiters, with a chip Tuscan straw hat, completed his personal equipment. He invariably paid the most scrupulous attention to cleanliness, and had a certain fastidiousness in his dress, strongly savouring of dandyism, of which he was far from disapproving; at least he infinitely preferred it to a slovenly disregard for dress. His Lordship, who had just dined, instantly ordered some hock and claret to be brought under the awning where he was sitting, which he invited me to partake of. Whilst discussing our wine, he plied me with questions relative to the Ionian Islands, and my opinion with regard to the posture of affairs in Greece; frequently observing that he did not imagine that he could render any essential service to the cause, but that as the

Committee seemed to think otherwise, he was going thither in obedience to their commands. He then, as we could not avoid discerning both Corsica and Elba from the deck, changed the conversation to the subject of the life of Napoleon, exclaiming that he had been wofully deceived in his estimate of the character of that wonderful man; repeating the pain and mortification which he endured whenever he chanced to glance his eye on either of these islands, as they recalled to his recollection the humbling conviction of the weakness of human nature. "I at one period," he said, "almost idolized that man, although I could not approve of many of his actions; regarding other potentates as mere pigmies when weighed in the balance against him. When his fortune deserted him, and all appeared lost, he ought at once to have rushed into the thick of the fight at Leipzig or Waterloo, and nobly perished, instead of dying by inches in confinement, and affording to the world the degrading spectacle of his petty bilious contentions with the governors to whose custody he was confided at St Helena. Even if he had maintained a dignified silence amid the persecutions to which in his latter days he complained of being subjected, I could almost have forgiven him; yet this man's fame will descend to, and be revered by posterity, when that of numbers more deserving of immortality shall have ceased to be remembered."

Byron's suavity of manner surprised and delighted me; my own previous conceptions, supported by common rumour, having prepared me to expect to find in him a man of morose temper and gloomy misanthropy, instead of which, from his fecundity in anecdote, he was a most delightful associate. I had recently lost for ever one who was deservedly dear to me, and in consequence was clad in deep mourning. I apologized to Lord Byron for the unavoidable depression of my spirits; he instantly seemed to sympathize unaffectedly with my grief. I shall ever entertain a grateful recollection of the amiable and soothing attentions which he then paid me, using gentle efforts to draw me into conversation, and endeavouring at

the same time to inspire me with self-possession, on perceiving that I stood somewhat in awe of him. Byron had just received communications from Moore and Goëthe; he read to me the letter of the former, who, he said, was the most humorous and witty of all his correspondents. He appeared to estimate, at its just value, the flattering and distinguished homage rendered to his inimitable poetic talent by the veteran German Bard, who, with the most profuse and enthusiastic eulogiums, panegyrized the wonderful productions of his genius.

Lord Byron expressed the extreme regret which he experienced at not being able to return the compliment by a perusal of Goethe's works in their native garb, instead of through the cold medium of a translation; but nothing, he said, would induce him to learn the language of the Barbarians, by which epithet he constantly designated the Austrians.

On my arrival on board, the majority of Lord Byron's suite were on shore, but the wind coming fair, they returned towards the afternoon, when the anchor was weighed, and we made sail, every one assisting at the capstan and ropes, no one being more active than Byron himself. I had been but a short time on board until I perceived that the others, instead of addressing him with a prolonged emphasis on the first syllable of his name, pronounced it short, as if it had been "Byrne," that of Byron seeming distasteful to him, so I adopted the same.

His suite consisted of Count Pietro Gamba, brother to his chère amie; Mr Edward Trelawny; a young man who had been engaged as his medical attendant, named Bruno, who was a native of Alessandria Della Paglia; a Constantinopolitan Greek, calling himself Prince Schilizzi, and a Greek Captain, Vitali. He had, besides, five domestics, and the same number of horses, together with a Newfoundland and a bull dog; so that our small vessel, which did not much exceed a hundred tons burden, was sufficiently crowded. On the passage to Cephalonia, Byron chiefly read the writings of Dean Swift, taking occasional notes, with the view possibly of gleaning from that humorous writer something to

wards a future Canto of Don Juan. He also made it a constant rule to peruse every day one or more of the Essays of Montaigne. This practice, he said, he had pursued for a long time; adding his decided conviction, that more useful general knowledge and varied information were to be derived by an intimate acquaintance with the writings of that diverting author, than by a long and continuous course of study. This was relieved sometimes by dipping into Voltaire's "Essai sur les Mours," and his " Dictionnaire Philosophique"-" De Grimm's Correspondence," and "Les Maximes de la Rochefoucault," were also frequently referred to by his Lordship; all, I should say, as connected with the composition of Don Juan, in which he was then deeply engaged.

A heavy tome on the War of Independence in South America, written by a soi-disant Colonel, named Hippisley, I think, who had taken service with Bolivar, as an officer of cavalry, but quickly retired in disgust, on not finding port wine and beef-steaks to be always procurable in the other hemisphere, (at least good fare seemed to him an indispensable requisite in campaigning,) was invariably asked for by Byron at dinner, and at length, Fletcher, his valet, brought it regularly with the table-cloth. Its soporific qualities, he amusingly remarked, were truly astonishing, surpassing those of any ordinary narcotic; the perusal of a few pages sufficed to lull him asleep, and obtained him a comfortable siesta, even when ill disposed, or in bad humour with himself.

Dinner was the only regular meal which he partook of in the twentyfour hours. He usually eat it by himselfon deck. His diet was very singular, and, in my opinion, almost nothing could have been devised more prejudicial to health in the intense heat of summer, under a blazing Italian sun. It consisted of a considerable quantity of decayed Cheshire cheese, with pickled cucumbers or red cabbage, which he quaffed down by drinking at the same time either a bottle of cider or Burton ale, of which articles he had procured a supply at Genoa. He sometimes drank an infusion of strong tea, but eat nothing with it but a small piece of biscuit; and oc

casionally his fare at dinner was varied by a little fish, if we succeeded in taking any. When he returned on deck after the siesta, he joined us in drinking wines or other liquors, displaying sometimes the most overflowing spirits; but in the midst of the greatest hilarity and enjoyment, I have observed this jovial mood to be suddenly checked. A cloud would instantaneously come over him, as if arising from some painful and appalling recollection; the tears would bedew his eyes, when he would arise and quit the company, averting his face, in order to conceal his emotion. This strange conduct was probably the effect of reaction from over-excitement, in a mind so exquisitely susceptible; at least I have heard it thus accounted for.

Byron cherished the strongest superstition relative to commencing any enterprise, or attempting any thing on a Friday, deeming it most unlucky. He also seemed to repose credit in the absurd belief, so popular among the Greeks and Turks, about the accidental spilling of oil or wine, or the oversetting of salt, considering the first and last as indicative of approaching misfortune, the other as possessed of a more cheerful and favourable augury. When irritated or incensed, he did not fail to make a profuse use of the common Italian oaths, Faccia di Maladetto, Corpo di Bacco, Sangue di Dio, &c., combined sometimes with the usual Greek malediction of 'Avu ou, following each other in rapid succession. He also imitated the inhabitants of the Levant, by spitting on the deck or ground with great violence, whilst giving way to the impetuosity of his temper. I considered Byron to be strongly imbued with a certain religious feeling, although chary of acknowledging it. No one, he said,

could be so senseless a brute as to deny the existence of a First Cause, and an omnipotent and incomprehensible Being, whose omnipresence all around us sufficiently evinced. He frequently expressed considerable anxiety about attaching himself to some particular creed, as any fixed belief would, he thought, be preferable to the continued state of uncertainty in which he had hitherto existed. He declared his ready openness to conviction, if

the truth could only be rendered evident to his understanding. His glowing and fervent imagination, I feel inclined to believe, would sooner or later have impelled him to attach himself to some particular, and, very possibly, extreme sect.

For the religious tenets or prejudices of others, he invariably testified the most profound respectprofessing to entertain much regard for those who were truly and conscientiously devout, believing such individuals to enjoy great worldly felicity. On the contrary, no man more than Byron ridiculed and detested the cant and hypocrisy which are so much in vogue in our times. He spoke frequently of the inane pursuits of mankind, and our limited intelligence, dwelling at some length on a remark once made to him by the late Sir Humphrey Davy, with respect to the nothingness of all human intellect, when it engages in the ever endless task of endeavouring to explore or solve the hidden and impenetrable mysteries of nature.

To be in company with Lord Byron, and in almost constant intercourse with him for a considerable period, more especially on shipboard, where, it is affirmed, you will in a few days acquire more knowledge of an individual than from years of previous acquaintance, was, through the extreme communica tiveness of his disposition, equivalent to an introduction to the whole course of his life. Although occasionally affecting mystery, he yet could conceal nothing. This sometimes produced rather painful confidences, relative to his own family matters, and amatory intrigues, which, if they ever actually took place, he would have shewn more good sense not to reveal; but I have my doubts about some of them, more especially in respect to one lady of very high rank, whose family I had the honour to be acquainted with, and whose fair fame I had never before heard assailed by the vile breath of slander. I will, however, do Lord Byron the justice to say, that in regard to this particular case, he dealt more in innuendo than any allegation of facts.

I thence concluded that much of this façon de parler consisted in a desire on his part, or rather weak

ness, if I may be permitted to term it so, to be considered amongst others as a roué, and man of gallantry; although I should be very far from disputing his general success in such matters; no one, from the insinuating powers of conversation, which he possessed in no small degree, and polished manner, combined with a strikingly handsome physiognomy, independently of his splendid mental qualifications, being more calculated to prove irresistibly attractive to the female heart. How ever blamable and unpleasant such revelations may appear to be, yet you might almost call them involuntary. Lord Byron could keep nothing secret, and occasionally astonished me by lavishing the grossest abuse on those whom I had always been led to consider as his intimate friends, and those to whom he owed the greatest obligations, which at other times he perhaps readily admitted: this fit, however, was transient as a summer shower, arising from impetuosity of temper, or some momentary personal pique; and I am persuaded, had he heard others assail them, he would have been the foremost in throwing down the gauntlet in their defence. Lord Byron entertained, or appeared to have imbibed, the most violent prejudice against the late Lady Noel. He shewed himself always affectionately anxious about the health and welfare of his daughter Ada. Alluding to her probable large fortune, he expressed a wish that it had been in his power to inhibit her from marrying a native of Great Britain-deeming his countrymen to have a greater propensity to fortunehunting than the individuals of other nations-which might, by an ill-assorted union, tend to her future unhappiness and discomfort.

Lord Byron adverted, on many occasions, sometimes in a state of the most bitter excitement, to the unfortunate infirmity of his foot, and the extreme pain and misery it had been productive of to him. He once uttered a very savage observation on his lameness, declaring, that years before he would have caused the recreant limb to be amputated, had he not dreaded thereby to spoil an exercise in which he more especially excelled and delighted.

His Lordship had the strongest aversion to walking, and always performed even the most trivial distance on horseback; from a wish, I apprehend, to conceal as much as possible the slight halt in his gait. The habit of not using pedestrian exercise, without doubt, would contribute in no small degree to increase that tendency to obesity to which he was by constitution inclined; and to counteract which, he adopted the pernicious system of continually drugging himself. This early impaired his digestive organs, although they could not fail to have been also injured by his mode of living and singular diet.

In the use of the pistol, Lord Byron was exceedingly dexterous, and prided himself much on this trivial accomplishment, which, by constant practice, may easily be attained by any person possessed of a calculating eye and steady nerves. In this, as every thing else, he wished to carry off the palm; and if he made a shot which he thought could not be surpassed, he declined to share farther in the pastime of that day; and if a bad one, he did not attempt to improve it, but instantly gave up the contest. His nerves were a good deal shattered; and from his firing so well even with that disadvantage, it was evident that, when younger, his aim must have been most unerring.

Trelawny was also an excellent shot; and his Lordship and he occasionally used to kill the ducks for the cabin dinner in this way -a wicker basket was suspended from the main-yard of the mast, containing a poor duck, with his head protruding through it. I have known both of them, from the poop, to kill the bird by hitting its head at the first fire. Lord Byron possessed several cases of excellent pistols; among others, a brace which had been the private property of his old friend, Joe Manton; and I was told he never grudged any expense in procuring those of superior workmanship. He frequently conversed about his former feats of skill at that celebrated maker's pistol gallery in London. He also boasted of having, about the time of his marriage, much to the amazement and discomfiture of Lady Noel, split a walking-stick

in the garden at Seaham House, at the distance of twenty paces.

His lordship was within an ace of losing his life during one of these firing-matches on board. Schilizzi, who was unacquainted with the guard on English hair triggers, inadvertently discharged a pistol, the ball from which whizzed close past Lord Byron's temple. He betrayed no tremor, but taking the pistol out of Schilizzi's hand, pointed out to him the mechanism of the lock, and at the same time desired Gamba to take care, that in future he should not be permitted to use any other pistols than those of Italian workmanship.

We enjoyed the most serene and beautiful weather during this voyage. In passing, the vessel approximated Porto Ercole and Piombino, the splendid scenery around which was much admired by Lord Byron; he was always on deck to view the magnificent spectacle of the sun setting over the vast expanse of waters, on the brilliant horizon peculiar to the East of Europe, and we coasted it along from Leghorn to Reggio, hardly ever being out of sight of land in the daytime. When opposite the mouth of the Tiber, we exerted all our power of vision to discern the cupola of St Peter's at Rome, which, however, was not visible through the vapour arising from the dark and dense forests which fringe the shore of the pestilential Maremma; but we could distinctly see through the glass the town of Albano, situated on the brow of the Alban Mount, and the magnificent range of mountains bebind the isolated Mount Soracte, placed just over Rome, was also descried.

Lord Byron frequently boxed with Trelawny as an amusement, and practised fencing with Count Gamba; he was not particularly dexterous at the foils, but excelled in the other, but he could not keep up the exercise long, which had become too violent for him.

Lord Byron and Trelawny also often bathed from the ship's side in calm weather; neither of them betrayed any apprehension from sharks, which, however, are by no means of rare occurrence in the Mediterranean, as I remember, in 1817, ha

ving been told by a young midshipman, named Hay, then at Corfu, in a sloop of war, that when he was almost in the very act of leaping from the bowsprit of the vessel, which was riding at anchor between that town and the island of Vido, one of these ravenous monsters of the deep was descried close alongside, and an alarm given just in time to prevent him.

On our nearing the Island of Ionza, in which Neapolitan prisoners of state are usually confined, which was then crowded with those unhappy persons who had engaged in the unsuccessful attempt at revolution in 1821, Lord Byron gave vent to his ire, uttering the most tremendous invectives against Austria, and the tyranny exercised by that nation over the minor powers of Italy ; and recounted to me the history of the once expected rising of the Papal dominions, which should have taken effect when he resided at Ravenna, and in which he might have been called upon to act a prominent part; this insurrection was checked by the rapid march on Naples of the Imperialists, under Baron Frimont. It was not to be regretted that his Lordship had not found an opportunity of assisting in any revolt in Italy, which could only have ended in defeat and disgrace. In my opinion, the success of any revolution in that country is exceedingly problematical, being composed of many petty states, with opposite interests, which are extremely jealous of each other, or rather, I should say, are animated by mutual hate, so no union can be looked for. A partial ebullition of popular feeling may from time to time take place; but as long as no grand combination exists, or the enterprise is not supported by some great and victorious power, the cause is hopeless, and can only lead to useless bloodshed.

Lord Byron sat up nearly all night watching Stromboli: it was, however, overcast, and emitted no flame. This was considered singular, as the volcano is supposed to be in constant activity, and always ejecting matter. He narrated to me the extraordinary story of the affidavit made by the crew of a British ship, who deposed that they had witnessed the apparition of a man, well known to them,