reason.

Lord Byron's Residence at the Island of Mitylene.

301

VOL. 4.] I pay to an aged Armenian who re- Dominick, his banker, who had gone sides in a small cottage in the wood, to Candia. "The Armenian," said and whom the lord brought here from our conductor, "could tell, but I am Adrianople; I don't know for what sure he will not."- "And cannot you tell, old friend?" said I.-" If I can," The appearance of the house exter- said he, " I dare not." We had not nally was pleasing. The portico in time to visit the Armenian, but on our front was fifty paces long and fourteen return to the town we learnt several broad, and the fluted marble pillars with particulars of the isolated lord. He had black plinths and fret-work cornices, portioned eight young girls when he (as it is now customary in Grecian ar- was last upon the island, and even chitecture,) were considerably higher danced with them at the nuptial feast. than the roof. The roof, surrounded He gave a cow to one man, horses to by a light stone balustrade, was covered others, and cotton and silk to the girls by a fine Turkey carpet, beneath an who live by weaving these articles. He awning of strong coarse linen. Most also bought a new boat for a fisherman of the house-tops are thus furnished, as who had lost his own in a gale, and he upon them the Greeks pass their even- often gave Greek Testaments to the ings in smoking, drinking light wines, poor children. In short, he appeared such as "lachryma christi," eating fruit, to us, from all we collected, to have and enjoying the evening breeze. been a very eccentric and benevolent On the left hand, as we entered the character. One circumstance we learnt, house, a small streamlet glided away, which our old friend at the cottage grapes, oranges, and limes were cluster- thought proper not to disclose. He had ed together on its borders, and under a most beautiful daughter, with whom the shade of two large myrtle bushes, the lord was often seen walking on the a marble seat with an ornamental wood- sea-shore, and he had brought her a en back was placed, on which, we were piano forte, and taught her himself the told, the lord passed many of his even- use of it. ings and nights till twelve o'clock, reading, writing, and talking to himself. "I suppose," said the old man, “ praying, for he was very devout, and always attended our church twice a week, besides Sundays.

Such was the information with which we departed from the peaceful isle of Mitylene; our imaginations all on the rack,guessing who this rambler in Greece could be. He had money it was evident; he had philanthropy of disposiThe view from this seat was what tion, and all those eccentricities which may be termed "a bird's eye view." A mark peculiar genius. Arrived at Paline of rich vineyards led the eye to lermo, all our doubts were dispelled. Mount Calcla, covered with olive and Falling in company with Mr. Foster, myrtle-trees in bloom, and on the sum- the architect, a pupil of Wyatt's, who mit of which an ancient Greek temple had been travelling in Egypt and appeared in majestic decay. A small Greece, "The individual," said he, stream issuing from the ruins descended "about whom you are so anxious, in broken cascades, until it was lost in is Lord Byron; I met him in my trathe woods near the mountain's base. vels on the island of Tenedos, and I The sea smooth as glass, and an hori- also visited him at Mitylene."-We zon unshadowed by a single cloud, ter- had never then heard of his lordship's minates the view in front and a little fame, as we had been some years from on the left, through a vista of lofty ches- home: but " Childe Harold” being put nut and palm-trees, several small islands into our hands, we recognized the rewere distinctly observed, studding the cluse of Calcla in every page. Deeply · light blue wave with spots of emerald did we regret not having been more cu green. I seldom enjoyed a view more rious in our researches at the cottage, than I did this; but our enquiries but we consoled ourselves with the idea were fruitless as to the name of the per- of returning to Mitylene on some fuson who had resided in this romantic ture day: but to me that day will solitude: none knew his name but never return. I make this statement,

302

'Woman: : or Minor Maxims. A Sketch."

[VOL. 4 believing it not quite uninteresting, and and over whose head Benevolence hath in justice to his lordship's good name, thrown her mantle. No man can read which has been grossly slandered. He the preceding pleasing" traits" without has been described as of an unfeeling feeling proud of him as a countryman. disposition, averse to associating with With respect to his loves or pleasures, human nature, or contributing in any I do not assume a right to give an way to soothe its sorrows or add to its opinion. Reports are ever to be receivpleasures. The fact is directly the re- ed with caution, particularly when diverse, as may be plainly gathered from rected against a man's moral integrity; these little anecdotes. All the finer and he who dares justify himself before feelings of the heart, so elegantly de- that awful tribunal where we all must picted in his lordship's poems, seem to appear, alone may censure the errors of have their seat in his bosom. Tender- a fellow-mortal. Lord Byron's characness, sympathy, and charity appear to ter is worthy of his genius. To do guide all his actions; and his courting good in secret, and shun the world's the repose of solitude is an additional applause, is the surest testimony of a reason for marking him as a being on virtuous heart, and self-approving conwhose heart Religion hath set her seal, science. JOHN M. MITFORD.

WOMAN.*

From the Literary Gazette, Oct. 1818.

AMONG the friends of Mrs. Eger- more than patience, with delight, be

ton is a Mrs. Barbara Maude, whose society is eagerly courted, although she is not possessed of any of the brilliant attainments which are generally supposed to be necessary to those who would excel in conversation. The cause is thus explained :

cause it would deliciously flavour the fruit and ripen the corn.

"Were the frailties of her acquaintances the theme of conversation, she was sure on the instant to recollect their merits, and as sure to make the latter outweigh the former. Was she told of the ill-natured observations passed on her own defects, she immediately set some remembered kindness against the satire, or acknowledged its justice; in either case escaping the sensations of anger and vexation.

"It was the manner not the matter of Mrs. Barbara's discourses that possessed the charm to please the inveterate, incurable habit of looking always on the most cheerful side of events, on the most amiable points of characterthis was the whole secret of the maiden's "This propensity to blunt the thorns winning eloquence. Talk of the that strew the path of life, and to extract weather, she never failed to remember the sweets from all its flowers, accomthe past sunshine rather than the past panied her every hour, and in every act. gloom-to anticipate calms and not If she took a short walk into the village storms; a passing shower or pending or across the heath, she encountered tempest was certain to make her remark more agreeable events, and beheld more that fine weather always followed foul; pleasing objects, than Smellfungus and that tomorrow's serenity and beau- would have discovered in a voyage ty might overpay the roughness and round the world. Half an hour's chat cloudiness of to-day. Two days after with her after one of these little exthe twenty-first of December she began cursions was as enlivening as a fairy her dissertation on the charm of length- tale; she had met with so much goodening days, and with the first snow- ness-she had experienced so much drop commenced her anticipations of the kindness--she had witnessed so much approaching spring. She welcomed a beauty and so much novelty! flowers boisterous gale, because it would certainly dissipate all unwholesome air; and she bore the summer-heat with • See Ath. vol. 4, page 267.

bloomed fair and breathed sweet in unprecedented perfection; the verdure of fields and trees was never before 30 lovely-the lambs sported on purpose

• Woman: or Minor Maxims. A Sketch.'

"But sweet Augustus has been so often told, both by mother and nurse, that he would be hurt, cut, burnt, and poisoned, by things that upon trial neither hurt, cut, burnt, nor poisoned him, that without hesitation he bit the pine, wounded his lip, and roared most manfully.

304

Woman: or Minor Maxims. A Sketch,'

(not that we often hear of this direction of that passion.)

[VOL. 4

there is little, if any, bitterness mingled with our compassion; and what little Do your fear by such measures to may exist is quickly supplanted by the lose your pretensions to taste and opu- consoling conviction that we are ameliolence? We fancy it would not be the rating the afflictions we deplore. Even first time that we shall incur the risk the consciousness of a superiority of of being censured for blunt honesty, fate may cause a sense of exultation in when we say, that in our opinion such some minds, and of thankfulness in pretensions are as effectually annulled others (each according to its peculiar by clumsy imitation of arrangements temperament) to assist in opposing the beyond our means, as by a total re- inroads of grief, and to sustain the signation of them. The only difference spirit amid scenes of foreign distress. that we can perceive between those who Here we see we are actually constituted give humble little entertainments, and to feel a degree of satisfaction in sympathose who give awkward grand galas, is, thizing with the sorrows of our neighthat the first are respected, and the last bour, and that the act increases our selfridiculed. Our readers can choose for love and self-consequence, whilst it themselves to which class they think gratifies our benevolence. Is there proper to belong." any heroism, therefore-any eminence As a specimen of the reasoning of virtue, in fulfilling so pleasurable, so powers of the author, we cannot refrain repaying a duty? from extracting the following passage, "W. a we go to the house of feastwhich evinces great originality of think- ing, and rejoice with the fortunate, the ing, and considerable command of favoured, a very different train of emolanguage:tion is awakened: we are ushered into "It has long been a question with us, scenes of prosperity-we have to conwhether the superiority of virtue is more gratulate those as above us who were conspicuous in sharing the sorrows of perhaps once below us, or once upon a the house of mourning, or in joining level with us, or who, by a felicitous the gaiety of the house of feasting.' coincidence of circumstances, have "We are very ready to concede that always been above us, rising from exthere is a sadness that amendeth the altation to exaltation. If self-love is heart,' and that in a moral and religious the strongest principle of the human point of view sorrow,' so far as it re- soul (as, we believe, is universally adlates to the amelioration of character mitted) is that most powerful sentimest and temper, is better than laughter;' wounded or soothed by the view of for sorrow humbles and softens, whilst another's extraordinary success? Are laughter induces presumption and in- we humbled or elevated by the unsensibility. But we doubt whether the avoidable contrast of our less splendid human heart displays greater virtue in fortunes? Is it pleasant, by gratulations, selecting scenes of misery, than in to add triumphs to the triumphant? Is sharing seasons of felicity-in other it agreeable even tacitly to acknowledge words, which is the nobler effort of inferiority of desert or good fortune?. sympathy, to participate in the adversity Is not the self-love implanted in us, or in the prosperity of our neighbour. directly opposing to every superiority of "The superintending mercy that fate or merit in another? and is not formed the soul of man, fitted it to relish vanity pained by the story of another's most keenly those emotions that should goodness or greatness? Hence, we seem most powerfully conduce to the general formed not to have pleasure in rejoicing welfare. Hence, the sentiment of pity, with those that rejoice; the most potent that leads one human being to smpathize emotions of our souls (self-love and in the sorrows of another, is a feeling so vanity) are pained by it, and, of all our soothing and agreeable as to attract him duties, perhaps it is the one that is the to the performance of this pleasurable least repaid in exertion. Is there not duty, and amply to repay him for all great heroism, therefore is there not the exertion it demands. When the preeminent virtue, in fulfilling so humbreast commiserates another's wee, ble, so unrequiting a duty?

VOL. 4.]

Original Anecdotes of Rob Roy M'Gregor.

305

"There is little fear that the heaven- out with expressing. Were we disposed implanted emotion of compassion will to be hypercritical, we would say that be checked by this disquisition. Highly the style of the work, although genedo we venerate the gentle sympathy rally playful and ironical, is sometimes, that weeps with those that weep,' but we fear, satirical. We are quite aware yet more warmly do we estimate the that this satire is directed against creagenerosity that rejoices with those tures of the imagination; but is there that rejoice."

not some danger that there may be found readers who will apply to their We could with pleasure transcribe friends in real life, the tone that is here much more of this interesting produc- assumed towards Miss Patty Muddleton, tion, but we must check our inclination; or Lady Wronghead? Were it not that having already overstepped the bounds example is always more powerful than which we usually prescribe to ourselves precept, there could be no ground for on such subjects. We are persuaded, any apprehension of this nature, for the however, that the extracts we have given mild treatment of error is invariably and will induce our readers to concur with ably inculcated in every page of the us in the favourable opinion that we set work.

ORIGINAL ANECDOTES OF ROB ROY M.GREGOR.

From the New Monthly Magazine, November 1818.

INTERESTING NOTICES AND ANECDOTES OF
ROB ROY M‘GREGOR, NEVER BEFORE PUB-

LISHED.

A LITTLE upwards of a year ago,
and this once formidable freeboot-
er was no more talked of on this side
the Tweed, than if he had never ex-
isted.-People had ceased to raise any
enquiry respecting what he did, or what
he was.
His name was dying away in
the remembrance of his own country-
men, and even in the land of his nativi-
ty, and in those very districts which had
been the scenes of his depredations, the
mention of his exploits and his darings
was seldom introduced, except on oc-
casions when the village group assem-
bled over a cheerful fire, to beguile with
tales and legends, the tediousness of a
winter's night.

was M'Gregor of Glengyle, in Argyleshire, and his mother was of the ancient and respectable family of Glenlyon in the county of Perth. He had a small property which had been in the possession of his family for several generations, and he lived on it for a course of years, sustaining the character of a lenient proprietor, and a peaceable man. But in consequence of a failure in a cattledealing speculation which he entered into at the request, and with the partnership of the Duke of Montrose, a misunderstanding took place, which proved to the latter a source of much trouble and annoyance; and to the former, the origin of all his misfortunes, as well as of all his fame.

The cause of the quarrel was simply this. As the Duke had entered as The author of Waverley, however, partner in the concern alluded to, and has imparted, such a degree of interest as he should have been entitled to his to this man's history and character share of the profits had the scheme has thrown over him all the liveliness proved successful, M'Gregor thought it and witchery of his colouring, and has but fair that he should also bear his placed him to our view in attitudes so proportion of the damage. Accordingstriking, and so original, as both to ly after having made an accurate decreate and to justify all that avidity with which we peruse every circumstance that is commmnicated respecting him.

Rob Roy was born towards the close of the seventeenth century. His father 2P ATHENEUM. Vol. 4.

duction from the Duke's capital, (10,000 merks) he returned him the remainder, giving him, at the same time, a statement of his reasons for not refunding the whole. Montrose, so far from ac