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unworthy triumph to the unworthy, besides deep sorrow to those whose applause, in his cooler moments, he most valued.

It was the same with his politics, which on several occasions assumed a tone menacing and contemptuous to the constitution of his country; while, in fact, Lord Byron was in his own heart sufficiently sensible, not only of his privileges as a Briton, but of the distinction attending his high birth and rank, and was peculiarly sensitive of those shades which constitute what is termed the manners of a gentleman. Indeed, notwithstanding his having employed epigrams, and all the petty war of wit, when such would have been much better abstained from, he would have been found, had a collision taken place between the aristocratic parties in the state, exerting all his energies in defence of that to which he naturally belonged. His own feeling on these subjects he has explained in the very last canto of Don Juan ; and they are in entire harmony with the opinions which we have seen expressed in his correspondence, at a moment when matters appeared to approach a serious struggle in his native country :

• He was as independent-ay, much more,

Than those who were not paid for independence;
As common soldiers, or a common-Shore,

Have in their several acts or parts ascendence
O'er the irregulars in lust of gore,

Who do not give professional attendance.
Thus on the mob all statesmen are as eager

To prove their pride, as footmen to a beggar.' We are not, however, Byron's apologists, for now, alas ! he needs none. His excellencies will now be universally acknowleged, and his faults (let us hope and believe) not remembered in his epitaph. It will be recollected what a part he has sustained in British literature since the first appearance of Childe Harold, a space of nearly sixteen years. There has been no reposing under the shade of his laurels, no living on the resource of past reputation; none of that coddling and petty precaution, which little authors call 'taking care of their fame. Byron let his fame take care of itself. His foot was always in the arena, his shield hung always in the lists; and although his own gigantic renown increased the difficulty of the struggle, since he could produce nothing, however great, which exceeded the public estimates of his genius, yet he advanced to the honorable contest again and again and again, and came always off with distinction, almost always with complete triumph. As various in composition, as Shakspeare himself (this will be admitted by all who are acquainted with his Don Juan), he has embraced

every topic of human life, and sounded every string on the divine harp, from its slightest to its most powerful and heartastounding tones. There is scarce a passion or a situation which has escaped his pen; and he might be drawn, like Garrick, between the weeping and the laughing muse, although his most powerful efforts have certainly been dedicated to Melpomene. His genius seemed as prolific as various. The most prodigal use did not exhaust his powers, nay, seemed rather to increase their vigor. Neither Childe Harold, nor any of the most beautiful of Byron's earlier tales contain more exquisite morsels of poetry than are to be found scattered through the Cantos of Don Juan, amidst verses which the author appears to have thrown off with an effort as spontaneous as that of a tree resigning its leaves to the wind.But that noble tree will never more bear fruit or blossom ! It has been cut down in its strength, and the past is all that remains to us of Byron. We can scarce reconcile ourselves to the idea-scarce think that the voice is silent for ever, which, bursting so often on our ear, was often heard with rapturous admiration, sometimes with regret, but always with the deepest interest:

All that's bright must fade,

The brightest still the fleetest.' With a strong feeling of awful sorrow, we take leave of the subject. Death creeps on our most serious as well as on our most idle employments; and it is a reflection solemn and gratifying, that he found our Byron in no moment of levity, but contributing his fortune and hazarding his life, in behalf of a people only endeared to him by their past glories, and as fellow creatures suffering under the yoke of a heathen oppressor. To have fallen in a crusade for freedom and humanity, as in olden times it would have been an atonement for the blackest crimes, may in the present be allowed to expiate greater follies than even exaggerated calumny has propagated against Byron.”

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“ The Disdar, who beheld the mischief, took his pipe from his mouth, dropped a tear, and, in a supplicating tone of voice, said to Lusieri, Téros ! I was present."Dr. CLARKE.





LORD BYRON is no more! That mighty genius, which hewed out for itself a path as terrible as it was new,--which arose in circumstances far from the most propitious,—which tumbled crítics of all schools and all creeds in the dust, and made their most deadly rancor alike the butt of its ridicule and the basis of its power, which took the understandings and the applauses of men, against the most vehement resistance, and yet apparently without an effort on its part, -has ceased to be a creating energy, and exists only in the majestic and indestructible fabrics of its own raising. The death of such a man produces feelings and suggests reflections, not produced nor suggested by that of any other man; and though Byron had lived to the very extreme bourne of human life,-though bis ardor had been cooled by time, and his faculties blunted by the progress of decay, the death of Byron would still have been an event of painful contemplation. But that he has been cut off just when he had reached the full vigor of manhoodat the very point when his genius may have been presumed to become firm through experience, when he was applying that genius to an exposure of hypocrisy and cant the most complete and the most daring that had ever been undertaken,—and when, in addition to this, he had gone to excite by his presence, and aid with his fortune, the descendants of those who had first shown how noble a thing freedom is, and how admirable are the works of genius and fancy which it can create,—the sorrow of every admirer of the majesty of man swells to its largest extent, and the public calls aloud for every notice, however hasty or however slight, of one having such talents, turning them to such an account, and being cut off from the world at a moment so very critical.

Hence the public would willingly question the truth of the

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