Byron's Politics and Religion--His sympathy with Hunt in prison--His
impression of the man--Hunt's Defense of Byron and Criticism of his
works--_The Liberal_--_Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries_.
It is not strange that Lord Byron, son of an English father and a Scotch
mother, born of a long line of adventurous and warlike sailors and
illustrious and loyal knights, with a strain of royalty and madness on one
side and eccentricity and immorality on the other, should have fallen heir
in an unusual degree to a nature whose virtues and vices were complex and
contradictory. Its singularities are nowhere more apparent than in the
mutations of his friendships.
Prior to his acquaintance with Hunt, Byron had taken his seat in the House
of Lords and had made speeches against the framebreakers of Nottingham and
in behalf of Catholic emancipation. A month after their meeting he made a
third speech introducing Major Cartwright's petition for reform in
Parliament. The second and third of these measures, in particular, were
warmly advocated by _The Examiner_, with which paper Byron was familiar,
as references in his letters show. It is therefore not hazardous to
surmise that his sympathy with liberal policies, alien to his Tory blood
and aristocratic spirit, was due, in part at least, to this influence.
Byron's political principles on the whole were as evanescent and
intermittent as a will-o'-the-wisp.[317] His chief tenets were the
assertion of the individual; antagonism against all authority; a striving
after freedom. Brandes, Elze and Treitscke agree in attributing his
political enthusiasm to the intense passion of his nature rather than to
his moral convictions.[318] His religious convictions were as fugitive as
his political and, like those of Hunt and other advanced thinkers of the
age, seem to have been without deference to any existing creed or dogma.
At his gloomiest moments he confessed that he denied nothing but doubted
everything. Hunt says of Byron's religion that he "did not know what he
was.... He was a Christian by education, he was an infidel by reading. He
was a Christian by habit, but he was no Christian upon reflection."[319]
The phrase, "I am of the opposition" applies to his religion as well as to
his politics, as indeed it serves as the key-note to almost every action
of his life.
Leigh Hunt has given a characteristic account of his first sight of Byron
"rehearsing the part of Leander," in the River Thames sometime before he
went to Greece in 1809:
"I saw nothing in Lord Byron at that time, but a young man, who, like
myself, had written a bad volume of poems; and though I had sympathy
with him on this account, and more respect for his rank than I was
willing to suppose, my sympathy was not an agreeable one; so,
contenting myself with seeing his lordship's head bob up and down in
the water, like a buoy, I came away. Lord Byron when he afterwards
came to see me in prison, was pleased to regret that I had not
stayed. He told me, that the sight of my volume at Harrow had been
one of his incentives to write verses, and that he had had the same
passion for friendship which I had displayed in it. To my
astonishment he quoted some of the lines, and would not hear me speak
ill of them."[320]
Hunt's _Juvenilia_, beyond having served as one of the incentives to the
writing of Byron's _Hours of Idleness_, does not seem to have affected it.
For Hunt's undercurrent of friendship and cheerfulness were substituted
Byron's prevailing notes of amorousness and melancholy.
The actual acquaintance of the two men did not begin until 1813, when
Thomas Moore, since 1811 a staunch admirer of Hunt's political courage and
of his literary talent, and one of the visitors welcomed to Surrey Gaol,
mentioned the circumstances of his imprisonment to Lord Byron, likewise a
sympathizer with the attitude of _The Examiner_ towards the Prince Regent.
Mr. Cordy Jeaffreson[321] thinks that it was this reckless sympathy with
the libeller of the Prince Regent that led Byron to reprint with _The
Corsair_, eight lines addressed in 1812 to the Princess Charlotte, _Weep,
daughter of a Royal Line_. The retaliation of one of the Tory papers
goaded Byron to write in return an article which strongly resembles Hunt's
famous libel[322] on the Prince Regent. Byron expressed a wish to call on
Hunt with Moore, and a visit followed on May 20, 1813.[323] Five days
later Hunt wrote:
"I have had Lord B. here again. He came on Sunday, by himself, in a
very frank, unceremonious manner, and knowing what I wanted for my
poem [_Story of Rimini_] brought me the last new _Travels in Italy_
in two quarto volumes, of which he requests my acceptance, with the
air of one who did not seem to think himself conferring the least
obligation. This will please you. It strikes me that he and I shall
become _friends_, literally and cordially speaking: there is
something in the texture of his mind and feelings that seems to
resemble mine to a thread; I think we are cut out of the same piece,
only a little different wear may have altered our respective naps a
little."[324]
With the pride of a sycophant in the presence of a lord Hunt relates that
Byron would not let the footman carry the books but gave "you to
understand that he was prouder of being a friend and a man of letters than
a lord. It was thus by flattering one's vanity he persuaded us of his own
freedom from it: for he could see very well, that I had more value for
lords than I supposed."[325] In June of the same year Hunt invited Byron,
Moore and Mitchell to dine with him in prison. Among several others who
came in during the evening was Mr. John Scott, later a severe critic of
Byron in _The Champion_.[326] Many years after Moore, in his _Life of
Byron_, wrote of the gathering with venom, recalling Scott as an assailant
of Byron's "living fame, while another [Hunt] less manful, would reserve
the cool venom for his grave."[327]
Byron esteemed Hunt greatly during the first year of their acquaintance.
His advances show a desire for intimacy which goes far toward
contradicting the statements sometimes made that the overtures were on
Hunt's side only.[328] Byron expressed himself thus at the time:
"Hunt is an extraordinary character and not exactly of the present
age. He reminds me more of the Pym and Hampden times--much talent,
great independence of spirit, and an austere, yet not repulsive,
aspect. If he goes on _qualis ab incepto_, I know few men who will
deserve more praise or obtain it. I must go and see him again--a
rapid succession of adventures since last summer, added to some
serious uneasiness and business, have interrupted our acquaintance;
but he is a man worth knowing; and though for his own sake, I wish
him out of prison, I like to study character in such situations. He
has been unshaken and will continue so. I don't think him deeply
versed in life:--he is the bigot of virtue (not religion) and
enamoured of the beauty of that 'empty name,' as the last breath of
Brutus pronounced and every day proves it. He is perhaps, a little
opinionated, as all men who are the _center of circles_, wide or
narrow--the Sir Oracles--in whose name two or three are gathered
together--must be, and as even Johnson was: but withal, a valuable
man, and less vain than success and even the consciousness of
preferring 'the right to the expedient,' might excuse."
December 2, 1813, he wrote to Hunt: "It is my wish that our acquaintance,
or, if you please to accept it, friendship, may be permanent.... I have a
thorough esteem for that independence of spirit which you have maintained
with sterling talent, and at the expense of some suffering."[329] Cordial
intercourse between the two men continued after Hunt's removal from Surrey
Gaol to lodgings in Edgeware Road, where Byron became one of his most
frequent visitors and correspondents. In the Hunt household Byron laid
aside his ordinary reserve. There are records of his riding the children's
rocking horse; of presents of game; loans of books; letters presented from
a Paris correspondent for _The Examiner_; and gifts of boxes and tickets
for Drury Lane Theatre, of which he was one of the managers. This last
Hunt would not accept for fear of sacrificing his critical independence.
In _Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries_, Hunt claims that this
familiarity proceeded from an "instinct of immeasureable distance."[330]
It was not until Byron's matrimonial difficulties in 1816 that Hunt, inert
and depressed from his long confinement, bestirred himself to return a
single one of the calls. Byron's separation from his wife in 1816 and the
subsequent scandal aroused in Hunt that instinctive protection and active
loyalty for friends abused, already discussed in a review of his relations
with Keats and Shelley. The conjugal troubles and libertinism of the
Prince Regent had brought forth only scorn and vituperation from the
editor of _The Examiner_, but difficulties of equal notoriety at closer
range in the lives of his friends evoked only sympathy and protection. He
asserted that there was no positive knowledge as to the cause of the
trouble and much depraved speculation, envy and falsehood, yet "had he
[Byron] been as the scandal-mongers represented him, we should
nevertheless, if we thought our arm worth his using, have stood by him in
his misfortunes to the last."[331] A prophecy of a near reconciliation and
a too-gushing picture of renewed domesticity are somewhat grotesque in the
light of later events. For this defense Byron was very grateful. January
12, 1822, he wrote that Scott, Jeffrey and Leigh Hunt "were the only
literary men of numbers whom I know (and some of whom I have served,) who
dared venture even an anonymous word in my favour, just then ... the third
was under no kind of obligation to me."[332] Hunt's opinion in the matter
underwent a transformation after the fateful Italian visit; he then
declared that Byron wooed with genius, married for money, and strove for a
reconciliation because of pique.[333]
The _Story of Rimini_, which had been submitted to Byron from time to time
and which was dedicated to him, appeared likewise in 1816. Byron seems to
have accepted the familiar tone of the inscription at the time in all good
faith "as a public compliment and a private kindness"[334] although
_Blackwood's_ of March, 1828, states, perhaps not seriously, that Byron in
his copy had substituted for Hunt's name "impudent varlet." As late as
April 11, 1817, Byron wrote from Italy that he expected to return to
Venice by Ravenna and Rimini that he might take notes of the scenery for
Hunt.[335]
But a letter to Moore from Venice, June 1, 1818, seems to mark a
disillusionment on the part of Byron:
"Hunt's letter is probably the exact piece of vulgar coxcombry that
you might expect from his situation. He is a good man with some
practical element in his chaos, but spoilt by the Christ Church
Hospital and a Sunday newspaper to say nothing of the Surrey Gaol,
which converted him into a martyr.... Of my friend Hunt, I have
already said that he is anything but vulgar in his manners [a
statement repeated again in 1822[336]]; and of his disciples,
therefore, I will not judge of their manners from their verses. They
may be honourable and gentlemanly men for what I know; but the latter
quality is studiously excluded from their publications."[337]
Hunt did not see or hear from Byron from 1817 until 1821. No further
mention of Hunt occurs in Byron's writings during this period except the
reference to his influence on Barry Cornwall's _Sicilian Story_ and
_Marcian Colonna_,[338] and another to the Cockney School in Byron's
controversy with Bowles. In explanation of this break in the intercourse
Hunt said, in 1828, that "Byron had become not very fond of his reforming
acquaintances."[339]
Hunt's criticism of Byron's writings was not an important factor in his
early literary development, as was the case with Shelley and Keats. Yet it
deserves brief attention. _The Examiner_ of October 18, 1812, contained
the address of Byron on the opening of the Drury Lane Theatre and a
commendation of its "natural domestic touch" and of its independence.
Hunt's _Feast of the Poets_ as it appeared first in _The Reflector_
contained no mention of Byron. The separate edition of 1814 devoted seven
pages of the added notes to a wordy discussion of his work and to personal
advice. Byron in a letter of February 9, 1814, thanked Hunt for the
"handsome note." The next mentions of Bryon were in _The Examiner_: a
notice of his ode on Napoleon April 24, 1814; _Illustrations of Lord
Byron's Works_ on September 4 of the same year; an elegy, _Oh Snatched
Away in Beauty's Bloom_, April 23, 1815; _The Renegade's Feelings Among
the Tombs of Heroes_, March 3, 1816; and finally, an announcement of an
opera founded on _The Corsair_, August 31, 1817. A review of the first and
second cantos of _Don Juan_ appeared in _The Examiner_ of October 31,
1819. Byron's extraordinary variety and sudden transition of mood, his
power in wielding satire and humor, his knowledge of human nature in its
highest and lowest passions, his contribution to the mock-heroic and the
sincere, the "strain of rich and deep beauty" in the descriptions were
pointed out. Any immoral tendency is denied: "The fact is at the bottom of
these questions, that many things are made vicious which are not so by
nature; and many things made virtuous, which are only so by calling and
agreement; and it is on the horns of this self-created dilemma, that
society is continually writhing and getting desperate!" _The Examiner_ of
August 26, 1821 containing a critique of the third and fourth cantos of
_Don Juan_, condemned the "careless contempt of canting moralists."
January 23, 1820, there was a notice in _The Examiner_ telling of Byron's
munificence to a shoemaker; in comment _The Examiner_ said: "His
lordship's virtues are his own. His frailties have been made for him, in
more respects than one, by the faults and follies of society." January 21,
1822, appeared a reprint of _My Boat Is on the Shore_; April 22, the two
stanzas from Childe Harold beginning, _Italia, Oh! Italia_; April 29,
_Byron's Letters on Bowles's Strictures on Pope_; May 26, a review of two
of Bowles's letters to Byron; July 29, an article entitled _Sketches of
the Living Poets_.[340] The last gave a biographical account of Byron.
The general traits of his poety were said to be passion, humour, and
learning. It criticized the narrative poems as "too melodramatic, hasty
and vague." Hunt's summary of the dramas and of _Don Juan_ shows excellent
judgment: "For the drama, whatever good passages such a writer will always
put forth, we hold that he has no more qualifications than we have; his
tendency being to spin every thing out of his own perceptions, and colour
it with his own eye. His _Don Juan_ is perhaps his best work, and the one
by which he will stand or fall with readers who see beyond time and
toilets. It far surpasses, in our opinion, all the Italian models on which
it is founded, not excepting the far famed _Secchia Rapita_."[341] On June
2, 1822, _The Examiner_ reviewed _Cain_. The article is chiefly a
discussion of the origin of evil. The issue of September 30 contained a
reprint of _America_; that of November 18 denied Byron's authorship of
_Anastasius_. From July 5, 1823, to November 29 of the same year, there
appeared in the _Literary Examiner_ friendly criticisms of the sixth,
seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth and
fourteenth cantos of _Don Juan_. The reviews consisted chiefly of extracts
and a summary of the narrative.
THE LIBERAL.
A letter from Lord Byron dated December 25, 1820, had proposed to Thomas
Moore to set up secretly, on their return to London, a weekly newspaper
for the purpose of giving
"the age some new lights upon policy, poesy, biography, criticism,
morality, theology, and all other ism, ality and ology whatsoever.
Why, man, if we were to take to this in good earnest, your debts
would be paid off in a twelvemonth, and by dint of a little diligence
and practice, I doubt not that we could distance the common-place
blackguards who have so long disgraced common sense and the common
reader. They have no merit but practice and imprudence, both of which
we may acquire; and, as for talent and culture, the devil's in't if
such proofs as we have given of both can't furnish out something
better than the 'funeral baked meats' which have coldly set forth the
breakfast table of Great Britain for so many years."[342]
Moore cautiously refused the offer and the idea lay dormant in Byron's
mind until he met Shelley at Ravenna in 1821. He then proposed that they
should establish a radical paper with Leigh Hunt as editor, the three to
be equal partners. Power, money, and notoriety were Byron's chief objects.
He frankly acknowledged a desire for enormous gains. He designed to use
his proprietory privileges to publish those of his writings that Murray
dared not. At the same time Byron had, without doubt, a desire to reform
home government and to repay Hunt for his public defense in 1816.[343] He
may have wished to please Shelley by asking Hunt.[344] Undoubtedly he
valued Hunt's wide journalistic experience. Moore asserts that in
extending the invitation, Byron inconsistently admitted Hunt "not to any
degree of confidence or intimacy but to a declared fellowship of fame and
interest."[345] This, like other of Moore's statements regarding Hunt, is
not very plausible in view of the past intimacy.
The most discussed question regarding Byron's motives in inviting Hunt is
the extent of his relation to _The Examiner_ at that time, and Byron's
knowledge of it. Trelawny states that when Byron "_consented_ to join
Leigh Hunt and others in writing for the 'Liberal,' I think his principal
inducement was in the belief that John and Leigh Hunt were proprietors of
the 'Examiner';--so when Leigh Hunt at Pisa told him that he was no longer
connected with that paper, Byron was taken aback, finding that Hunt would
be entirely dependent upon the success of their hazardous project, while
he himself would be deprived of that on which he had set his heart,--the
use of a weekly paper in great circulation."[346] Moore heard indirectly
in 1821 that Byron, Shelley and Hunt were to "_conspire_ together" in _The
Examiner_[347]--a plan nowhere mentioned in the writings of the three men
concerned and most unlikely. What Trelawney "thought" conflicts with what
Moore "heard." The suggestions of both are open to doubt. Byron was most
assuredly the projector of _The Liberal_ and did not "_consent_ to join
Leigh Hunt and others." Besides, granting that Trelawney's opinion was
based on a statement of Byron's, even that would not be convincing, since
Byron made a number of mis-statements about the matter after he grew weary
of it. Questionable as the assertion is, it has been made the basis of
accusations against Hunt of deliberate deceit and of breach of contract.
Had it been true that there was an understanding of cooeperation between
the two papers, Byron and Moore would have made much of the charge.
Trelawney's opinion, first noticed by _Blackwood's_ in March, 1828, has
been elaborated by Jeaffreson,[348] and accepted by Leslie Stephen[349]
and Kent.[350] Elze, who seems to have labored under the impression that
Harold Skimpole was a faithful portraiture of Hunt, states that his
connection with Byron began with a falsehood.[351] R. B. Johnson says, in
defense of Hunt, that the accusation "is quite unreasonable and contrary
to all the evidence."[352] Monkhouse thinks that it is doubtful if Byron
reckoned on the support of the London paper.[353] J. Ashcroft Noble says
that Byron had much to say about the Hunts in his letters, "and made the
most of all kinds of trivial or imaginary grievances; it is simply
incredible that had a grievance of such reality and magnitude as this
really existed he would have refrained from mentioning it." As proof
against it, he quotes Byron's belief in Hunt's honesty as late as
September 1822; and he points out the "obvious absurdity of the idea that
in the year 1822 a weekly newspaper could be conducted successfully, or at
all, by an editor in Pisa or Genoa."[354] The strong probability, gathered
from all the extant evidence, is that Byron and Shelley, in inviting Hunt
to Italy, expected, and very naturally, that he would continue to share in
the profits of _The Examiner_. Shelley, indeed, in a letter dated as late
as January 25, 1822, urged Hunt not to leave England without a regular
income from that journal[355]--an injunction which Hunt unfairly
disregarded. It is also likely that his connection with _The Examiner_ was
one of Byron's reasons in extending the partnership to include Hunt. But
it is practically certain that there was no contract nor even
understanding as regards the cooeperation of _The Liberal_ and the London
paper. The question does not therefore, involve Hunt's honor at all. If
Byron expected to profit by the influence of _The Examiner_, his silence
shows a manliness that Noble does not credit him with.
Hunt, in accepting Byron's offer, was actuated by motives both selfish and
unselfish. The fine of L1,000 imposed at the time of his conviction of
libel was not all paid; _The Indicator_ had been abandoned; _The Examiner_
was on its last legs; his health was broken by overwork undertaken in the
effort not to call upon his friends for aid;[356] an invalid wife and
seven children were to be supported by his pen; his brother John was in
prison. From January, 1821, to August of the same year he had been unable
to write. In accepting Byron's offer he thought to recover his health in a
southern climate, to regain his political influence which had been on the
decrease during the last four or five years, and at the same time to aid
aggressively the liberal movement.[357] Moreover, he was flattered
immensely by the prospective public association with Lord Byron. He had
little to lose and a prospect of large gain. Hunt should have weighed more
gravely such a step before he embarked on such a hazardous venture with so
large a family, but, with a buoyancy and irresponsibility in practical
affairs peculiar to himself, he clutched at the new proposition as a way
out of all difficulties and did not look beyond immediate necessities. He
pictured himself and his family healthy and wealthy in a land he had
always sighed for. If the skies lowered, he fancied Shelley always at
hand. His description of preparations for the voyage is as airy as his
pocketbook was light: "My family, therefore, packed up such goods and
chattels as they had a regard for, my books in particular, and we took,
with strange new thoughts and feelings, but in high expectation, our
journey by sea."[358]
The part Shelley played in the invitation to Hunt is more difficult of
interpretation. The original proposition to become an equal partner in the
transaction he never seriously entertained. He consented to become a
contributor only. His reasons for his refusal he gave to others, but, for
fear of endangering Hunt's prospects, withheld from Byron; for the same
reason he dissembled at times concerning his real feelings. Yet he was
equally responsible with Byron in extending the invitation to Hunt, as
will be shown later. Although Shelley could not have foreseen the full
consequences of such a course of action, he was deficient in frankness
toward Byron and undoubtedly sacrificed him somewhat in the transaction to
his affection for Hunt. While Byron continued to hold the highest opinion
of Shelley, between the time of their meeting in Switzerland and at
Ravenna, Shelley had experienced three separate revulsions of
feeling.[359] At the time in question his distrust had returned.
Hunt's pecuniary troubles made their relations still more difficult. This
state of affairs between Byron and Shelley must have given Hunt great
concern, and Shelley suspecting his distress wrote March 2, 1822: "The
aspect of affairs has somewhat changed since the date of that in which I
expressed a repugnance to a continuance of intimacy with Lord Byron as
close as that which now exists; at least it has changed so far as regards
you and the intended journal."[360]
In January, 1821, Mrs. Hunt wrote Mary Shelley, begging that they might
come to Italy. The subject was thus revived and a formal invitation was
conveyed in a letter of August 26, 1821, from Shelley to Hunt. It proves
beyond a doubt that Byron was the chief projector of the journal:
"He (Byron) proposes that you should come out and go shares with him
and me, in a periodical work, to be conducted here; in which each of
the contracting parties should publish all their original
compositions and share the profits.... There can be no doubt that the
_profits_ of any scheme in which you and Lord Byron engage, must,
from various, yet co-operating reasons, be very great. As for myself,
I am, for the present, only a sort of link between you and him, until
you can know each other and effectuate the arrangement; since (to
entrust you with a secret which, for your sake, I withhold from Lord
Byron), nothing would induce me to share in the profits, and still
less, in the borrowed splendor of such a partnership. You and he, in
different manners, would be equal, and would bring, in a different
manner, but in the same proportion, equal stocks of reputation and
success.... I did not ask Lord Byron to assist me in sending a
remittance for your journey; because there are men, however
excellent, from whom we would never receive an obligation, in the
worldly sense of the word; and I am as jealous for my friend as for
myself.... He has many generous and exalted qualities, but the canker
of aristocracy wants to be cut out."[361]
Hunt's answer was full of expectation and hope. He wrote that "Are there
not three of us?... We will divide the world between us, like the
Triumvirate, and you shall be the sleeping partner, if you will."[362] To
Shelley's reply of October 6, thanking him for coming, Hunt answered: "You
say, Shelley, you thank me for coming. The pleasure of being obliged by
those we love is so great that I do not wonder that you continue to muster
up some obligation to me, but if you are obliged, how much am I?"[363]
From the beginning of the enterprise Thomas Moore and John Murray scented
trouble and made more. They continued their intermeddling after _The
Liberal_ was launched, and doubtless ministered to Byron's vacillation.
Hunt and Murray had disagreed over the _Story of Rimini_[364] and an
attack on Southey in _The Examiner_ of May 11 and 18, 1817, had included
Murray as well. Moreover, Murray saw in John Hunt,[365] the publisher of
the new periodical, a dangerous future rival in his business relations
with Byron. After matters became unpleasant in Italy, Murray took his
revenge by making public Byron's letters containing ill-natured remarks
about Hunt.[366] The relations of Moore and Hunt had been very
friendly[367] but at this juncture both became too proud of having a
"noble lord" for a friend.[368]
Moore, writing to Byron in the latter part of 1821, said: "I heard some
time ago that Leigh Hunt was on his way to Genoa with all of his family;
and the idea seems to be, that you and Shelley and he are to _conspire_
together in _The Examiner_. I cannot believe this--and deprecate such a
plan with all my might. _Alone_ you may do anything, but partnerships in
fame, like those in trade, make the strongest party answerable for the
deficiencies or delinquencies of the rest, and I tremble even for you with
such a bankrupt company.... They are both clever fellows, and Shelley I
look upon as a man of real genius; but, I must say again, you could not
give your enemies (the ... s 'et hoc genus omne') a greater triumph than
by joining such an unequal and unholy alliance,"[369] an astounding
statement from a man of pronounced liberal views. Byron's answer of
January 24 was indefinite and perhaps intentionally misleading: "Be
assured that there is no such coalition as you apprehend."[370] February
19, Moore advised Byron not to discuss religious matters in the new work,
but to confine himself to political theories; "if you have any political
catamarans to explode this (London) is your place."[371] After _The
Liberal_ was begun, Moore wrote: "It grieves me to urge anything so much
against Hunt's interest, but I should not hesitate to use the same
language to himself were I near him. I would, if I were you, serve him in
every possible way but this--I would give him (if he would accept of it)
the profits of the same works, published separately--but I would not mix
myself up in this way with others. I would not become a partner in this
sort of miscellaneous '_pot au feu_' where the bad flavour of one
ingredient is sure to taint all the rest. I would be, if I were _you_,
alone, single-handed and as such, invincible."[372]
The Hunts started for Italy November 15, 1821, but on account of various
setbacks and delays did not really leave the coast of England until May
13, 1822. In the ten months which elapsed between the invitation to Hunt
and his arrival, it is not surprising that Byron's enthusiasm had cooled.
He would have withdrawn if he could have done so, although Byron, Trelawny
says, was at first more eager than Shelley for Hunt's arrival.[373] As has
already been stated above, affairs between Byron and Shelley had been very
strained in January. In the letter of March 2, already referred to,
Shelley informed Hunt that matters had improved between Byron and himself
and that Byron expressed the "greatest eagerness to proceed with the
journal, he dilates with impatience on the delay, and he disregards the
opinion of those who have advised him against it."
Shelley thought that their strained relations would in no way interfere
with Hunt's prospects, and, with what looks a little like double-dealing,
that it would be possible for him to preserve what influence he had over
the "Proteus" until Hunt arrived: "It will be no very difficult task to
execute that you have assigned me--to keep him in heart with the project
until your arrival."[374] April 10, Shelley wrote again to Hunt of Byron's
eagerness for his arrival: "he urges me to press you to depart." But a
reference to the state of affairs in the two households in Italy carries a
foreboding note: "Lord Byron has made me bitterly feel the inferiority
which the world has presumed to place between us, and which subsists
nowhere in reality but in our own talents, which are not our own but
Nature's--or in our rank, which is not our own but Fortune's." With his
usual humility, Shelley closes the letter with an apology for carrying his
jealousy of Byron into Hunt's relations with him, and says: "You in the
superiority of a wise and tranquil nature have well corrected and justly
reproved me ... you will find much in me to correct and reprove."[375]
During the summer Shelley continued to shrink more than ever from Byron;
June 18 he declared to Hunt that he would not be the link between them for
Byron is the "nucleus of all that is hateful." His one dread was that he
might injure Hunt's prospects.[376] Between April and July Byron's
enthusiasm had again cooled. Trelawny relates that Shelley when he went to
Leghorn to meet Hunt, was greatly depressed by Lord Byron's "shuffling and
equivocating," and, "but for imperilling Hunt's prospects," that Shelley
would have abruptly terminated their intercourse.[377] On July 4 Shelley
wrote to Mary from Pisa that "things are in the worst possible situation
with respect to poor Hunt.... Lord Byron must of course furnish the
requisite funds at present, as I cannot, but he seems inclined to depart
without the necessary explanations and arrangements due to such a
situation as Hunt's. These, in spite of delicacy, I must procure."[378]
This dual attitude of Shelley has been variously viewed. Professor Dowden
thinks it a "triumph of diplomacy,"[379] while Jeaffreson deems it a
conspiracy of Hunt and Shelley against the innocent and unsuspecting
Byron.
Hunt gave the following ominous description of his first call upon Lord
Byron: "The day was very hot; the road to Mount Nero was very hot, through
dusty suburbs; and when I got there I found the hottest looking house I
ever saw. It was salmon colour. Think of this, flaring over the country in
a hot Italian sun! But the greatest of all the heats was within. Upon
seeing Lord Byron, I hardly knew him, he was grown so fat; and he was
longer in recognizing me, I had grown so thin."[380] Hunt wrote to England
that Byron received him with marked cordiality[381] but Shelley's friend
Williams, in his last letter to his wife, stated that Byron treated Hunt
vilely and "actually said as much that he did not wish his name to be
attached to the work, and of course to theirs"; that his treatment of Mrs.
Hunt was "most shameful"; and that his "conduct cut H. to the soul."[382]
The Hunt family was quickly quartered on the ground floor of Byron's
palace, which Byron had furnished at a cost of L60.[383] Shelley's
sensible suggestions to Hunt about his furniture,[384] about the income
from _The Examiner_, and worse still, his delicately given advice that it
was not possible for him to bring _all_ of his family, had been
ignored.[385]
With Shelley's tragic death a few days after their arrival, the only "link
of the two thunderbolts,"[386] as he had called himself, was broken. Hunt
was left in an awkward position which no one could have foreseen. A few
days later he wrote to friends at home of Byron's kindness.[387] In 1828
he gave a different version:
"Lord Byron requested me to look upon him as standing in Mr. S.'s
place. My heart died within me to hear him; I made the proper
acknowledgment, but I knew what he meant, and I more than doubted
whether even in that, the most trivial part of the friendship, he
could resemble Mr. Shelley, if he would. Circumstances unfortunately
rendered the matter of too much importance to me at the moment. I had
reason to fear:--I was compelled to try:--and things turned out as I
had dreaded. The public have been given to understand that Lord
Byron's purse was at my command, and that I used it according to the
spirit with which it was offered. _I did so._ Stern necessity and a
family compelled me."[388]
With the magazine scarcely likely to yield an income for some time, it was
absolutely necessary for Hunt to get money from somewhere for living
expenses and, Shelley gone, there was no one left to tide over the
interval but Byron. The latter did not relish the position of sole banker
to a family of nine and doled out L70 in small doses through his steward,
Hunt says, just as if his "disgraces were being counted."[389] He was
embittered by his position as suppliant and dependent, though there is
nothing to show that he was ever refused what he asked for or requested to
pay back what he owed.[390]
Hunt's entire money obligation to Byron has been comprehensively
calculated by Galt at L500: L200 for the journey from England, L70 at Pisa
for living expenses, the cost of the journey from Pisa to Genoa, and L30
from Genoa to Florence. Galt thought the use of the ground floor a small
favor since Byron could use only one floor for himself. Such practices
were very common, Italian palaces often being built for that purpose.[391]
It is likely that until the step was irrevocable Byron did not correctly
gauge Hunt's resources and the responsibility which he was assuming in
transporting a large family to a foreign country. If he did, he expected
to share the burden with Shelley. Had Hunt been financially independent,
it is probable that he and Byron would have remained on amicable enough
terms, for the former asserts that the first time he was treated with
disrespect was when Byron knew he was in want.[392] Yet that neither
Shelley nor Byron were wholly ignorant of what to expect before Hunt's
arrival in Italy is apparent from Shelley's letter to Byron, February 15,
1822:
"Hunt had urged me more than once to ask you to lend him this money.
My answer consisted in sending him all I could spare, which I have
now literally done. Your kindness in fitting up a part of your own
home for his accommodation I sensibly felt, and willingly accept from
you on his part, but, believe me, without the slightest intention of
imposing, or, if I could help it, of allowing to be imposed, any
heavier task on your purse. As it has come to this in spite of my
exertions, I will not conceal from you the low ebb of my own money
affairs in the present moment,--that is, my absolute incapacity of
assisting Hunt further. I do not think poor Hunt's promise to pay in
a given time is worth very much, but mine is less subject to
uncertainty, and I should be happy to be responsible for any
engagement he may have proposed to you."[393]
Mrs. Hunt seems to have widened further the breach between the two
men.[394] She did not speak Italian and the Countess Guiccioli, the head
of Byron's establishment, did not speak English. Neither made any
linguistic efforts and consequently there was no intercourse between the
families of the two households. This, Hunt later says, was the first cause
of diminished cordiality between Byron and himself. The Hunt children were
a further cause of trouble. Byron wrote of them to Mrs. Shelley: "They
were dirtier and more mischievous than Yahoos. What they can't destroy
with their feet they will with their fingers."[395] Again he described
them as "six little blackguards ... kraal out of the Hottentot
country."[396]
The question of rank was a thorn in the flesh, particularly to Hunt. While
in open theory he had no respect for titles, in actual practice he
groveled before them. Pride, as he thought, had made him decline all
advances from men of rank, but it was more with the air of being afraid to
trust himself than with real indifference. His exception, made in the case
of Lord Byron, is thus explained: "But talents, poetry, similarity of
political opinion, flattery of early sympathy with my boyish writings,
more flattering offers of friendship and the last climax of flattery, an
earnest waiving of his rank, were too much for me in the person of Lord
Byron."[397] On the renewal of the acquaintance in Italy, the very
familiar attitude seen in the dedication of the _Story of Rimini_, which
Hunt himself had decided was "foolish," was changed at the advice of
Shelley to an extremely formal manner of address. Hunt says that Byron did
not like the change.[398] As a matter of fact, six years of separation had
brought about other more important changes: Byron had grown more selfish
and avaricious, Hunt more helpless and vain.
Three months were spent in Pisa after Shelley's death. In September the
two families left for Genoa, travelling in separate parties and, on their
arrival, settling in separate homes, the Hunts with Mrs. Shelley. From
this time on there was little intercourse between Byron and Hunt. October
9, 1822, Byron wrote to England and denied that all three families were
living under one roof. He said that he rarely saw Hunt, not more than once
a month.[399] Hunt to the contrary said that they saw less of each other
than in Genoa yet "considerable."[400] Although at no time was there an
open breach, yet cordiality and sympathy were wholly lost on both sides in
the strain of the financial situation. They failed of agreement even on
impersonal matters. Byron had looked forward with great pleasure to Hunt's
companionship. Before they met he had written: "When Leigh Hunt comes we
shall have banter enough about those old _ruffiani_, the old dramatists,
with their tiresome conceits, their jingling rhymes, and endless play
upon words."[401] This pleasant anticipation was not realized, for Hunt's
sensitiveness in petty matters and Byron's scorn of Hunt's affectation and
of his ill-bred personal applications,[402] or so the hearer interpreted
them, reduced safe topics to Boswell's _Life of Johnson_. Even a mutual
admiration of Pope and Dryden was forgotten. Literary jealousy and vanity
fed the flames. Hunt was unable to appreciate manhood of Byron's virile
type, and he did not try to conceal the fact from one who was hungry for
praise. On the other hand, Byron did not render to Hunt the homage he was
accustomed to receive from the Cockney circle and had nothing but contempt
for all his works except the _Story of Rimini_. A statement in the
anonymous _Life of Lord Byron_, published by Iley, that the
misunderstanding was the result of a criticism by Hunt of _Parisina_ in
the Leghorn and Lucca newspapers and that Byron never spoke to him after
the discovery[403] is a fabrication as unsubstantial as the greater part
of the other statements in the same book. Hunt denied the charge. His sole
connection with _Parisina_ was that he supplied the incident of the
heroine talking in her sleep,[404] a device that he had already made use
of in _Rimini_.
On his arrival in Italy Hunt wrote back to England that Byron entered into
_The Liberal_ with great ardor, and that he had presented the _Vision of
Judgment_ to his brother and himself for their mutual benefit.[405] Yet
four days later in a letter to Moore Byron wrote: "Hunt seems sanguine
about the matter but (entre nous) I am not. I do not, however, like to put
him out of spirits by saying so, for he is bilious and unwell. Do, pray,
answer _this_ letter immediately. Do send Hunt anything in prose or verse
of yours, to start him handsomely--and lyrical, _iri_cal, or what you
please."[406] At the time of Trelawny's first visit after the work had
begun, Byron said impatiently: "It will be an abortion," and again in
Trelawny's presence he called to his bull-dog on the stairway, "Don't let
any Cockneys pass this way."[407] Sometime previous to October his
endurance must have given way completely, for in that month Hunt wrote
that Byron was _again_ for the plan.[408] In January Byron urged John Hunt
to employ good writers for _The Liberal_ that it might succeed.[409] March
17, 1823, Byron, in a letter to John Hunt, said that he attributed the
failure of _The Liberal_ to his own contributions and that the magazine
would stand a better chance without him. He desired to sever the
partnership if the magazine was to be continued.[410] His constant
vacillation in part supports the charge made by Hunt that Byron under
protest contributed his worse productions in order to make a show of
cooeperation.[411] Insinuations from Moore and Murray had fallen on fertile
ground and had persuaded Byron that the association jeopardized his
reputation. Hobhouse, Byron's friend, joined his dissenting voice to
theirs, and "rushed over the Alps" to add to his disapproval.[412]
Hazlitt's account of the conspiracy of Byron's friends against _The
Liberal_ is very fiery.[413]
The first number of _The Liberal_ appeared October 15, 1822. There were
three subsequent numbers. Byron's contributions were his brilliant and
masterly satire, the _Vision of Judgment_, _Heaven and Earth_, _A Letter
to the Editor of my Grandmother's Review_, _The Blues_, and his
translation of the first canto of Pulci's _Morgante Maggiore_. Murray had
withheld the preface to the _Vision of Judgment_ and this omission,
combined with an unwise announcement in _The Examiner_ of September 29,
1822, by John Hunt, made the reception even worse than it might otherwise
have been. Hunt said the _Vision of Judgment_ "played the devil with all
of us."[414] Shelley had made ready for the forthcoming magazine his
exquisite translation of Goethe's _May Day Night_ and a prose narrative,
_A German Apologue_. These appeared in the first number. Hunt's best
contributions were two poems, _Lines to a Spider_ and _Mahmoud_. _Letters
from Abroad_ are good in spots only. His two satires, _The Dogs_ and _The
Book of Beginners_, are pale reflections in meter and tone of _Don Juan_
and _Beppo_ combined. The _Florentine Lovers_ is a good story spoiled.
_Rhyme and Reason_, _The Guili Tre_, and the rest are purely hack work,
with the possible exceptions of the translation from Ariosto and the
modernization of the _Squire's Tale_. Hazlitt contributed _Pulpit
Oratory_, _On the Spirit of Monarchy_, a pithy dissertation _On the Scotch
Character_, and a delightful reminiscence of Coleridge in _My First
Acquaintance with Poets_. Mrs. Shelley wrote _A Tale of the Passions_,
_Mme. D'Houdetot_, and _Giovanni Villani_, all rather stilted and heavy.
Charles Browne contributed _Shakespear's Fools_. A number of unidentified
prose articles and poems, many of the latter translations from Alfieri,
completed the list.
The causes of the failure of _The Liberal_ were very complex, but quite
obvious. There was no definite political campaign mapped out, no
proportion outlined for the various departments, no assignments of
individual responsibility, no attempt to cater to the public appetite or
to mollify the public prejudices for expediency's sake, and an utter want
of harmony among its supporters. Each contributor rode his own hobby.
Each vented his private spleen without regard to the common good. It was a
vague, up-in-the-air scheme, wholly lacking in cooerdination and common
sense. Byron's fickleness and want of genuine interest in a small affair
among many other greater ones; the disappointment of both Byron[415] and
Hunt in not realizing the enormous profits that they had looked forward
to--although Hunt wrote later that the "moderate profits" were quite
enough to have encouraged perseverance on the part of Byron; Hunt's
ill-health and unhappy situation which rendered it difficult for him to
write; John Hunt's inexperience as a bookseller; the general unpopularity
of the editor, the publisher, and the contributors; and last, the pent-up
storm of rage from the press which greeted the first number of _The
Liberal_,[416] were other reasons that contributed to its ultimate
downfall. In seeking Hunt for the editor of such a venture, as Gait had
pointed out,[417] Byron had mistaken his political notoriety for solid
literary reputation.
Hunt, notwithstanding his confession[418] of an inability to write at his
best and of his brother's inexperience, throws the burden of failure
solely on Byron. He asserts that _The Liberal_ had no enemies and, worst
of all, that Byron when he foresaw hostility and failure, gave him and his
brother the profits that they might carry the responsibility of an
"ominous partnership"[419]--a statement ungenerously distorted by bitter
memories, for when John Hunt was prosecuted for the publication of the
_Vision of Judgment_, Byron offered to stand trial in his stead. Neither
does Hunt state that Byron's contributions were _gratis_ and that the
"moderate profits" enabled him and his brother to pay off some of their
old debts.[420] Byron, strong with the prescience of failure, likewise
shifted the blame to other shoulders and with the aid of a strong
imagination tried to persuade himself and his friends that the Hunts had
projected the affair and that he had consented in an evil hour to engage
in it;[421] that they were the cause of the failure; that his motives
throughout had been philanthropic only in nature;[422] and that he was
sacrificing himself for others. Such statements are inventions born of
self-accusation and of self-defense. The worst that can be said of Byron
from beginning to end of the affair is that he was not conscientious in
his endeavors to make the journal a success; that, after it failed, he
evaded financial responsibility by placing barriers of coldness and
ungraciousness between Hunt and himself.
On October 9, 1822, he wrote to Moore that he had done all he could for
Hunt "but in the affairs of this world he himself is a child";[423] "As it
is, I will not quit them (the Hunts) in their adversity, though it should
cost me my character, fame, money, and the usual et cetera.... Had their
journal gone on well, and I could have aided to make it better for them, I
should then have left them; after my safe pilotage off a lee shore, to
make a prosperous voyage by themselves. As it is, I can't, or would not,
if I could, leave them amidst the breakers. As to any community of
feeling, thought, or opinions between L. H. and me, there is little or
none; we meet rarely, hardly ever; but I think him a good-principled and
able man.[424]... You would not have had me leave him in the street with
his family, would you? And as to the other plan you mention, you forget
how it would humiliate him--that his writings should be supposed to be
dead weight! Think a moment--he is perhaps the vainest man on earth, at
least his own friends say so pretty loudly; and if he were in other
circumstances I might be tempted to take him down a peg; but not now--it
would be cruel.[425]... A more amiable man in society I know not, nor
(when he will allow his sense to prevail over his sectarian principles) a
better writer. When he was writing his _Rimini_ I was not the last to
discover its beauties, long before it was published. Even then I
remonstrated against its vulgarisms; which are the more extraordinary,
because the author is anything but a vulgar man."[426] During April, 1823,
the Countess of Blessington had a conversation with Byron in which he said
that while he regretted having embarked in _The Liberal_, yet he had a
good opinion of the talents and principles of Hunt, despite their
diametrically opposed tastes.[427] On April 2, 1823, he wrote that Hunt
was incapable or unwilling to help himself; that he could not keep up this
"genuine philanthropy" permanently; and that he would furnish Hunt with
the means to return to England in comfort.[428] There is no proof that
Byron ever made such an offer to Hunt. The purchase money of Hunt's
journey home was _Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries_. On July 23,
1823, Byron went to Greece. The Hunts, provided by him with L30 for the
trip, left Genoa about the same time for Florence, where they were
literally stranded, in ill-health and without sufficient means for
support,[429] until their departure for England in September, 1825. The
suffering there and the foul calumny at home magnified in Hunt's mind[430]
the indignity and injustice that had been put upon him and warped his
sense of gratitude and honor in the whole affair. He wrote from Florence:
"The stiffness of age has come into my joints; my legs are sore and
fevered; and I sometimes feel as if I were a ship rotting in a stagnant
harbour."[431] Mrs. Shelley protested to Byron concerning his treatment of
Hunt[432] but she received no further satisfaction than the statement
that he had engaged in the journal for good-will and respect for Hunt
solely.[433]
The publisher Colburn in 1825 made Hunt an advance of money for the return
journey, to be repaid by a volume of selections from _his own writings
preceded by a biographical sketch_.[434] An irresistible longing for
England and a crisis in the disagreement with John Hunt regarding the
proprietary rights of _The Examiner_ and the publication of the _Wishing
Cap Papers_ in that paper, made Hunt seize at the first opportunity by
which he might return home. From Paris, on his way to England, he wrote:
"If I delayed I might be pinned forever to a distance, like a fluttering
bird to a wall, and so die in helpless yearning. I have been mistaken.
During my strength my weakness perhaps, was only apparent; now that I am
weaker, indignation has given a fillip to my strength."[435] From his
severance with _The Examiner_ and the publication of _Bacchus in Tuscany_
in 1825, Hunt was idle until 1828. Then, pressed by his obligation to
Colburn and stung by the misrepresentations of the press regarding his
relations with Byron in Italy, he scored even, as he thought, by producing
_Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries_, the blunder of his life and
the one blot upon his honor. In addition to the part dealing with Byron,
it contained autobiographical reminiscences and memoirs of Shelley, Keats,
Moore, Lamb and others. It went rapidly through three editions. The body
of the work is a discussion of the defects of Byron's character and a
detailed analysis of his actions. In brief, he is charged with insincerity
in the cause of liberty; an impatience of any despotism save his own; a
vain pride of rank, although his friends were of humble origin; a
"libelling all around" of friends; an ignorance of real love,
consanguineous or sexual; coarseness in speaking of women or to them;[436]
a voluptuous indolence; weak impulses; a habit of miscellaneous
confidences and exaggeration; untruthfulness; susceptibility to
influence; avarice even in his patriotism and debauchery; a willingness to
receive petty obligations; jealousy of the great and small; no powers of
conversation and a want of self-possession; bad temper and self-will; an
inordinate desire for flattery; egotism and love of notoriety. More petty
accusations are excess in his eating and drinking, though Hunt complains
that Byron would not "drink like a lord"; his fondness for communicating
unpleasant tidings; his inclination to the mock heroic; his effeminacy and
old-womanish superstition; his easily-aroused suspicions; his
imitativeness in writing poetry; his slight knowledge of languages; his
physical cowardice. The virtues of this monster, small in number and
grudgingly allowed, were admitted to be good horsemanship, good looks, a
delicate hand, amusing powers of mimicry, pleasantry in his cups, masterly
swimming. Unfortunately these statements were usually damned with a "but"
or "yet."
While it is now generally believed that many of the accusations made by
Hunt were true,[437] inasmuch as they are confirmed in large part by
contemporary evidence, and as truthfulness was one of Hunt's dominant
traits, yet, on the other hand, it is quite necessary to make large
allowance for the point of view and the color given by prejudice and
bitterness of spirit. That Hunt told only the truth does not justify the
injury in the slightest, for he had slept under Byron's roof and eaten of
his bread. The obligations conferred were not exactly those of benefactor
to suppliant; they were perhaps no more than Hunt's due in the light of
the responsibility voluntarily assumed by Byron; yet they could not be
destroyed or forgotten because of a refusal to acknowledge them. Worse
still, Hunt's motives proceeded from impecuniosity and revenge. Such petty
gossip of private affairs was worthy of a smaller and meaner soul. That
Hunt did not have the sanction of his own judgment and conscience is
clearly seen in the preface to the first edition where he confesses an
unwilling hand and gives as a reason for the change of scheme a too long
holiday taken after the advance of money from Colburn. He says that the
book would never have been written at all, or consigned to the flames when
finished, if he could have repaid the money.[438] His one poor defense is
that "Byron talked freely of me and mine," that the public had talked, and
that Byron knew how he felt.[439]
The book had a very large circulation. But Hunt, who had hoped to defend
himself in this manner from the calumnies afloat since the failure of _The
Liberal_, brought down a storm of abuse from the press that resulted in
his degradation and Byron's canonization. Moore's welcome was a poem, _The
Living Dog and the Dead Lion_.[440] Hunt's friends replied with _The Giant
and the Dwarf_.[441] In his life of Byron published some years later,
Moore speaks reservedly of the book, merely saying it had sunk into
deserved oblivion.[442]
Hunt's public apology and reparation, in so far as such lay in his power,
were first made in 1847 in _A Saunter Through the West End_: "No. 140
(formerly No. 13 of what was Piccadilly Terrace) was the last house which
Byron inhabited in England. Nobody needs to be told what a great wit and
fine poet he was: but everybody does not know that he was by nature a
genial and generous man spoiled by the most untoward circumstances in
early life. He vexed his enemies, and sometimes his friends; but his very
advantages have been hard upon him, and subjected him to all sorts of
temptations. May peace rest upon his infirmities, and his fame brighten as
it advances."[443] In 1848, he wrote in praise of the Ave Maria stanza in
_Don Juan_.[444] And finally and completely in his _Autobiography_ he
apologized for the heat and venom of _Lord Byron and Some of His
Contemporaries_:
"I wrote nothing which I did not feel to be true, or think so. But I
can say with Alamanni, that I was then a young man, and that I am now
advanced in years. I can say, that I was agitated by grief and anger,
and that I am now free from anger. I can say, that I was far more
alive to other people's defects than to my own, and that I am now
sufficiently sensible of my own to show to others the charity which I
need myself. I can say, moreover, that apart from a little allowance
for provocation, I do not think it right to exhibit what is amiss, or
may be thought amiss, in the character of a fellow-creature, out of
any feeling but unmistakable sorrow, or the wish to lessen evils
which society itself may have caused.
"Lord Byron, with respect to the points on which he erred and
suffered (for on all others, a man like himself, poet and wit, could
not but give and receive pleasure), was the victim of a bad bringing
up, of a series of false positions in society, of evils arising from
the mistakes of society itself, of a personal disadvantage (which his
feelings exaggerated), nay, of his very advantages of person, and of
a face so handsome as to render with strong tendencies of natural
affection," and declared that his fickleness had been "nurtured by an
excessively bad training." In exoneration of Hunt he said that if
"disappointment and the fervour of a new literary work--which often
draws the pen beyond its original intention--led Leigh Hunt into a
book that was too severe, perhaps too one-sided in its views, he
himself afterwards corrected the one-sidedness, and recalled to mind
the earlier and undoubtedly the more correct impression he had had of
Lord Byron." I, 202-203.
him an object of admiration. Even the lameness, of which he had such
a resentment, only softened the admiration with tenderness.
"But he did not begin life under good influences. He had a mother,
herself, in all probability, the victim of bad training, who would
fling the dishes from table at his head, and tell him he would be a
scoundrel like his father. His father, who was cousin to the previous
lord, had been what is called a man upon town, and was neither rich
nor very respectable. The young lord, whose means had not yet
recovered themselves, went to school, noble but poor, expecting to be
in the ascendant with his title, yet kept down by the inconsistency
of his condition. He left school to put on the cap with the gold
tuft, which is worshipped at college:--he left college to fall into
some of the worst hands on the town:--his first productions were
contemptuously criticised, and his genius was thus provoked into
satire:--his next were overpraised, which increased his
self-love:--he married when his temper had been soured by
difficulties, and his will and pleasure pampered by the sex:--and he
went companionless into a foreign country, where all this perplexity
could repose without being taught better, and where the sense of a
lost popularity could be drowned in license.
"I am sorry I ever wrote a syllable respecting Lord Byron which might
have been spared. I have still to relate my connection with him, but
it will be related in a different manner. Pride, it is said, will
have a fall; and I must own, that on this subject I have experienced
the truth of the saying. I had prided myself--I should pride myself
now if I had not been thus rebuked--on not being one of those who
talk against others. I went counter to this feeling in a book; and to
crown the absurdity of the contradiction, I am foolish enough to
suppose that the very fact of my so doing would show that I had done
it in no other instance! that having been thus public in the error,
credit would be given me for never having been privately so! Such are
the delusions inflicted on us by self-love. When the consequence was
represented to me as characterized by my enemies, I felt, enemies
though they were, as if I blushed from head to foot. It is true I had
been goaded to the task by misrepresentation:--I had resisted every
other species of temptation to do it:--and, after all, I said more in
his excuse, and less to his disadvantage, than many of those who
reproved me. But enough. I owed the acknowledgment to him and to
myself; and I shall proceed on my course with a sigh for both, and I
trust in the good will of the sincere."[445]