It is singular how success and the want of it operate on two extraordinary men, Walter Scott and Wordsworth. Scott enters a room and sits at a table with the coolness of conscious fame; Wordsworth with a mortified elevation of head, as if fearful he was not estimated as he deserved. Scott is always cool and very amusing. Wordsworth, often egotistical and overwhelming. Scott can afford to talk of trifles because he knows the world will think him a great man who condescends to trifle. Wordsworth must always be eloquent and profound, because he knows that he is considered childish and puerile. Scott seems to wish to appear less than he really is, while Wordsworth struggles to be thought, at the moment, greater than he is suspected to be. This is natural. Scott's disposition is the effect of success operating on a genial temperament, while Wordsworth's evidently arises from the effect of unjust ridicule wounding an intense self-esteem. I think Scott's success would have made Wordsworth insufferable, while Wordsworth's failures would not have rendered Scott one whit less delightful.

Tom Moore at dinner tells his stories with a hit or miss air, as if accustomed to people of rapid apprehension. It being asked at Paris whom they would have as godfather for Rothschild's baby, "Talleyrand," said a Frenchman. "Pourquoi, Monsieur?" Parce qu'il est le moins chrétien possible."

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Turenne used to say he never spent his time in regretting any mistake which he had made, but set himself instantly and vigorously to repair it.

At Lord Stafford's, one evening (24th May, 1826), I met Moore and Rogers, and overheard Rogers say, "I am inclined to believe it because it gives one pain," by no means a certain criterion, for if everything is to be believed because it gives one pain, all calumnies must be true on this principle. Hazlitt was there, and as he saw Moore, he came up and whispered, "I

hope he won't challenge me." This was quite a characteristic touch. I have no doubt in meeting anybody he has attacked Hazlitt's predominant feeling is personal fear.

Byron is dead! I felt deeply at reading the news. Moore said the other day, when I met him (29th March, 1824), that in a letter from Byron to him (Moore), Byron said, "I shall fight, and if I get killed do justice to a Brother Scribbler." 1

When John Scott (Editor of the " Champion"), who had attacked Byron in the " Champion," was at Venice, Byron sent to him, and Scott went and passed several days with Byron.

The secret explanation of John Scott's disgraceful attack upon Byron in the "Champion" (Scott's newspaper) is simply private spite. Scott met Byron at Hunt's table when Hunt was in prison, and Byron took no notice of Scott. When Byron, after his separation, wrote his "Farewell" for private circulation, Scott called on Brougham by chance. Brougham had one, he gave it to Scott, and Scott published it the Sunday following. This was highly dishonorable. Scott had called upon me on his return from Brougham, and showed me the " Farewell," and told me his intention of printing it, which I disapproved. This is the private history of all that noise which took place at Byron's separation. The "Champion" was the first paper that had the" Farewell," and the attack on it became public instantly. After this, Moore breakfasted with Scott, and I heard Rogers say to Sir Walter Scott that he was very angry with Moore for doing so.

When Scott returned from Italy, he one night read his journal (his wife, I believe, has since burnt it), and it contained several things about Byron which made an impression on me. One evening, as Byron was taking Scott, in his gondola, to a party, he placed his hand on his knee and said, "You have

1 See ante, p. 214.

been unlucky, so has every one who has attacked me; but now we are friends you will be fortunate in life."1

On another occasion Byron said, "I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned."

He told Scott that after his separation from Lady Byron, he went to a rout and was regularly cut by all the women of fashion. As he leaned against the mantelpiece, and they were sweeping by, a little red-haired, bright-eyed coquette came flirting up to him, and with a look that was exquisitely insolent, said, "You had better have married me. I would have managed you better."

Byron's great weakness seemed to Scott to be the belief that every woman was mad after him, and with an affected contempt as if he seemed to despise it, he coquetted about you till you seemed to believe it, and then he was pleased.

He talked with great complacency of Marie Louise inquiring which was his box at the opera, and affected to disregard it.

The day I dined with Miss Baillie, at Hampstead, with Wilkie, Miss Baillie told me that Lord Byron had told her on the very morning he and Miss Milbanke were married and were driving home through the grounds, and all the tenants and peasantry were cheering, Byron said to her, "What could induce you to marry me?" "Good heavens!" said Lady Byron, 66 because

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I loved you."
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No," said he, you have a spice of Mother
Eve, you married me because your friends wished you not to do
You refused me twice, and I will be revenged."

So.

He hated to see women eat. I have been told many things on this point, which I cannot assert as truth, but which are probable.

It is interesting to put down these few things a contemporary remembers. He begged Shelley not to talk of Hell or ghosts

after dark-it made him "uneasy."

A woman in love with Byron at a masquerade rushed over and pulled the mask off the face of another who was walking

1 This was scarcely verified, Scott losing his only child shortly after, and shortly after that was himself shot in a duel with Mr. Christie.-ED.