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the dirty linen of Madame Bergning O'Meara entered his dark room, when

son's management of detaily-such, for like to wood fires, and in page 113 Mr. instance, as his

he beheld the fallen emperor sitting and the other ladies of the suite; bis with his arms crossed on his knees over cavilling about the quantity of water the hearth, the occasional flashes of the

also, about the the room in darkness, and throwing number of fires which the Countess their crimson shades over the melanBertrand had in her bed-room during choly countenance of the ruined chief, the year; and his going about to forbid his mind solemnly contemplating his the tradesmen to give any credit to the fallen fortunes. Who can read this Emperor, or his attendants, was, to say passage without reflecting upon Marius the best of it, an act of supererogation, sitting amidst the ruins of Carthage. upon a point which might well have been From this scene let us revert to page left to the discretion of the parties. We 193, where we find Buonaparte speaking do not join in the indiscriminate censure of the great victory of Moskwa, which which others heap opon SirHudson Lowe, threw into his hands the Russian capibut we do hope, for the honour ofthe Brit- tal, and raised him to an elevation to ish character, that Sir Hudson will be which man had never before been carable to shew, that some very extraordi ried. From this he suddenly is hurled nary, circumstances existed to justify by the mightier hand of nature. The these measures, of which we have been cold set in twenty days sooner than it selecting a few of the most prominent. had done for fifty years before. The

It appears, both by the direct state thermometer fell eighteen degrees in ments, and by every collateral evidence one night, and in that fatal night 30,000 which the work affords, that Napoleon horses perished. Independent of the was free from any rancour or malignity loss of artillery and baggage horses, of disposition ; that, on the contrary, of 40,000 cavalry only 3,000 returned he was both kindly and delicately sen. to France; 500 cannon lay buried in sitive to the feelings of those around the snow. The bravest súnk into fatuity him; and that his good temper and easy and terror ; four or five of the enemy gaity were unquestionable; the readi threw battalions into confusion; the ness with which he put up with wretched men “ lay down, fell asleep, a little accommodations, rather than accept of blood came from their nostrils, and, Mr. Balcomb's offer of moving out of his sleeping, they died.” This is awfully house for his convenience; his walking sublime; and the pages of Tacitus sink after dinner, in order to let the attend. into comparative iosignificance. The ants, who were obliged to dine in his limits of our Magazine oblige us to curroom, enjoy themselves; his playing at tail our remarks, and we must refer blind-mau's-buff with Mr. Balcomb's our readers to “ Napoleon in Exile," children, are ample proofs of his sensi. as a work which will gratify the idly bility, condescension, and good nature. curious, instruct the historian, and afford

We should say, that the second divi. subjects of awful interest to the moralist sion of the work, or rather the second and philosopher. description of its contents, is more important than the first: it is of high interest. Buonaparte's familiar con Memoirs of the Life and Writings versations upon the subjects of Captain

of the Right Hon. Lord Byron, with Wright, of Sir Sidney Smith, of the Duke D'Enghein, and of the expedition to

Anecdotes of his Contemporaries. Egypt, with the charges of cruelty com 8vo. pp. 428. mitted by him upon his Turkish prisoners and upon his own sick, throw a These memoirs are dedicated to Mr. very different complexion on those Gifford, and the work is evidently not events tban what had been previously the first production of its author, for it given to them by the English press. bears, throughout, the impress not only The picture of Napoleon's little crowded of an experienced and practised hand, bed-rooni-his being reduced to nail

but the confidence which experience up bis sheets for curtains, his corking

and practice invariably inspire. The up the bottle of wine to make it last

anonymous writer has not, therefore, for the next day, Sir Hudson Lowe's concealed his pame through that fear dispute about their using basket salt, and trembling, with which our first proare subjects of deep reflection to the

ductions are generally laid before the moralist, and afford the strongest pos- public. Be the author whom he may, sible instances of the reverses of hu

however, we can perceive no just reaman life. Napoleon had a strong dis sou for concealing his name; for, as he

himself very properly observes, 6 it is therefore we have nothing to do with every individual's duty to check the the relation of facts. It is the business current of bareful principles, especially of a reviewer to let his readers know, when those principles are sent forth not what facts are stated by the author, clothed with the attractive ornaments but whether they be fairly stated, and of literary elegance, and recommended having discharged this duty, his busiby the potent spells of rank and popu. ness afterwards is with his opinions larity.” No person, surely, needs blush alone. When we have given the author to avow an act which he knows to be of these memoirs credit fór honesty of his duty, and as the present work was intention, and freedom from enmity to professedly intended, as the author in Lord Byron, we have given a sort of forms us, to check the current of Lord general character of the biographical, Byron's baneful principles to unde. or narrative part of his work; but his ceive those who are liable to be lost in opinions must be considered separately, the wilds and witcheries of moral de because honesty of principle, though it lusion which prevail in his writings, never suffers us to fall into error in the author engaged in the performance matters of fact, except through inadof a duty, which he ought not to blush vertence, is no safeguard in matters of to acknowledge. Concealment in such opinioni. A man may be very honest, a case leads us to suspect that Lord By who, in point of intellect, is only one ron's " baneful principles" were not all degree above an idiot, and we fear the tog'ether so baneful as they are repre present writer did not sufficiently weigh sented, and that the author, conse when he engaged in these memoirs quently, thought it prudent to skreen Quid valeant humeri, quid ferre recuhimself from the just indignation of the sent. We must confine ourselves, hownoble Lord by concealing bis name, ever, to such parts of his comments on This, perhaps, was not the cause of the poetry of the noble Lord' as pare concealment, but it is at least the first most highly important to the general cause that suggests itself to an impar interests of literature, i to apleb, siwl, tial reader:

Lord Byron, alluding to his studies There are two objects aimed at in the at Harrow school, observes, that we present work : the first is, to make us become tired of studying the Greek acquainted with the life, the second and Latin poets before we can com with the writings, of Lord Byron. With prehend their beauty, that the freshness the first we have no concern : facts is worn away, and the future pleasure speak for themselves, and we believe and advantage deadened and destroyed the author has misrepresented no cir by the didactic anticipation, at an age cumstance of Lord Byron's life. Indeed, when we can neither fcel nor underwe cannot help saying, that he evinces stand the power of compositions which throughout å rigid unbending honesty it requires an acquaintance with life, as of principle, and we cannot, with some well as with Latin and Greek, to relish of our contemporaries, attribute the or reason upon, so that when we are severity of his strieturés on Lord By- old enough to enjoy them the taste is ron's moral principles to the spirit of gone, and the appetite palled. In some pre-determined hostility. In our opinion parts of the continent young persons the author's warmth arises from a stub are taught from more common authors, born attachment to truth, and a belief, and do not read the best classics till whether well founded or not, that Lord their maturity." Byron is one of its most dangerous ene With this opinion our author does not mies. But whether he be free from en agree, and brings forward Dean Vinmity to the noble Lord or not, it is idle cent's “ Defence of Public Education," to accuse him of it till the fact be prov and Child Harold's Monitor," to prove ed. No, proofs, however, have been the contrary. In questions of this nabrought forward, for the critics who ture, authority is of little consequence have been most severe upon the work, abstracted from the arguments on which do not mention one circumstance which it rests, and if mere authority decided he has either garbled or misrepresent the question, Lord Byron has much ed. So far, then, as these memoirs re higher authority on his side than that gard the life of Lord Byron, we think of the Dean or the. Monitor, namely, we may safely recommend them to the the authority of Milton, Cowley, and perusal of our readers. Our limits will Addison. Their opinion, however, he not suffer us to give even a retrospect treats: as paradoxical ; let us hear his of them, and even if we could, we do reason. *. If the attainment of Latin not conceive that our pages would be and Greek is at all necessary, it is obthe proper place to seek for such infor- vious that those languages cannot be mation. We are not, biographers, and acquired in perfection, but through the

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mediean of the finest writers as well in can boast of in, consequently, that he verse as in prose.” This reasoning is knows what others have written, not true, but it maintains what perhaps no that he knows any thing of his own. man but a fool would contradict. Lord And those, who can boast of nothing Byron does not maintain that we can higher, must not presume to tread that have a perfect acquaintance with the holy ground which is consecrated, to Greek and Latin writers without study- genius: ing the classic poets. He merely main. With his observations on “Childe tains that we should not commence this Harold” we perfectly agree, as well. study before we are capable of feeling with regard to its faults as to its beayand relishing their beauties, and that ties. He says that Harold is represented we should receive our elementary edu an unprincipled, impenitent proflication from more common authors. For gate, contrary to all our conceptions of this assertion his lordship gives the best chivalry, without the least reason whatof all reasons, that if we commence ever being assigned for making the them too early " the taste is gone, and character vicious instead of virtuous the appetite palled when we are old and honourable. Had the noble Lord enough to enjoy them.” This truth is been writing a novel, he was at full confirmed by the experience of every liberty to have sketched out a monster one who consults his own feelings. of debauchery and profaneness in as Burke tells us that he found more plea- dark colours as it was possible for the sure in Don Bellianis of Greece, when imagination to figure human villany. a youth, than he could derive in his But when, in undertaking a narrative of riper years from the finest passages in his own travels in foreign countries, the the Æneid, which would not have been noble Lord thought proper to clothe the ease had he never looked into it his remarks in a poetic dress, and to before he was prepared to feel and en convey them as the observations of a joy its beauties. As for Dean Vincent's fictitious character, he should have “ admirable defence,” as our author taken care to make that convenient percalls it, his arguments have still less sonage a respectable, and not an aban-> to do with Lord Byron's view of clas doned being." His observations on the sic education than his own.

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beauties of this poem are equally just, Harold's Monitor" quotes the line, and the quotation which he gives of

his personification of " Battle” stampa “Horace still charms with graceful negligence." ing his foot on the rock overhanging As if Lord Byron denied the classic the plains of Talavera, may be justly beauties of Horace. We should think ranked among the sublimest passagesa it a waste of argument to shew that he in ancient or modern poetry. It re-, was better acquainted with them than minds us of Collins's picture of danger. the Monitor, Dean Vincent, or our anodymous author. He never denied them,

“Lo! where the giant on the mountain stands

His blood-red tresses deepening in the sun, and we cannot but think Jittle of the

With death-shot glowing in his hands, comprehension of any writer who would And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon, infer, that he has denied them from the

Restless it rolls, now fixed, and now anon

Flashing afar, and at his iron feet passage we have now quoted from him.

Destruction comes to mark what deeds are done,' Another charge brought against his For on this morn three potent nations meet Lordship is, that “ he despised acade. To shed before his shrine the blood he deems

most sweet." mical honours, and treated with contempt the peculiar studies by which His observations on " The Corsair," alore they might be procured.” We we do not think equally just. He cancould not wish for a better proof of his not conceive, he says, how a heart of Lordship's original powers of mind, and such sensibility as Medora possessed, our author's ignorance of what consti should feel such intense anxiety for tutes real genius. A mind, pregnant the fate of Conrad, whom she knew to with ideas of its own, cannot endure be a dark, designing' villain. He thinks the drudgery of encumbering itself his demoniacal qualities ought to have with those of others. Yet this is all driven him from all human kina. We that is necessary to procure acadeinical think otherwise, and even if we admithonours. Whoever can best remember ted him to be what our author has no what others have written on the pecu. authority in supposing him, we should liar studies, which lead to these honours, think so still; for we should still be is sure of obtaining them'; so that aca uvable to perceive any thing unnatural demical honours are not the prize of in Medora's affection for the Corsair. genius or original endowments of mind, Without pretending to any extraorbut of a retentive memory. All that a dinary acquaintance with the human person who has obtained these honours heart, experience alove places sufficieut Eur, Mag. Vol. 83,

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evidence within our reach of the fide- man, though hurried to evil acts by lity of woman to her partner for life, the predominance of one prevailing A woman once attached to the person passion. He every betrays the of a man remains so, and there was same chaos and conflict of mind with nothing in the person of Coprad which the Corsair; and if we admit him to could lead us to think it impossible that have been naturally virtuous, how much a woman would fall in love with him. stronger claims bas the Corsair to that

title. It is difficult to find a parallel "Robust, but not Herculean-to the sight for the chivalric heroism of mind which No giant frame sets forth his common height; Yet in the whole, who paused to look again,

he displays, in refusing to kill Seyd Saw more than marks the crowd of vulgar men;

Pacha while he was asleep, deeming it They gaze and marvel how—and still confess, dishonourable to attack any man unThat thus it is, but why, they cannot guess.”

armed, though Seyd was his mortal Are we to suppose such a figure inca

enemy, and an enemy, too, who had

decreed him to suffer an excruciating pable of gaining the affections of a wo

death. But Macbeth had no such scruman, and of retaining them through pulosity of character : he put to death life, notwithstanding his vices. At the

a monarch who had loaded him with same time, we need not have recourse to this argument to defend the probabi- occasion that he proved himself an as

his favours, nor was it only on this lity of such an attachment, for we do not conceive, that the character given

sassin. No wonder, then, that Medora of Conrad by Lord Byron justifies our

should be distractedly attached to the author in calling him a devil incarnate;

Corsair, who, on all occasions, displayed nor do we think that the following pas

the greatest magnanimity of character. sage, which he quotes as an instance

She was more intimately acquainted

with his heart than our author appears of his infidelity, contains a single sentiment that authorizes the conclusion.

to have been, and she knew it to be

tender and affectionate, notwithstand“ There is a war of chaos in the mind,

ing the sternness of countenance which When all its elements convulsed,-combined. Lie dark and jarring with perturbed force,

he assumed. In a word, she knew bim And gnashing with impenitent remorse;

to'be, at bottom, naturally virtuous. That juggling fiend who never spoke before,

Two lines from the passage, in which But cries, I warned thee,' when the deed is she endeavours to persuade him to

o'er. Vain voice; the spirit burning, but unbent,

abandon his course of life, abundantly May writhe, rebel- the weak alone repent.” prove what we assert :These are not sentiments of infidelity. How strange that heart, to me so tender still, On the contrary, they are what divines

Should war with nature, and its better will.” would call, sentiments of returning grace. They express the conflict of a

We do not, however, maintain, that mind which dares not give itself over

all Lord Byron's characters are free altogether to vice, but which still wants

from sentiments of infidelity; but if courage to embrace the sterner pathis orthodoxy, we see no reason why he

we could assure ourselves of his own of virtue. , A confirmed infidel feels no

chaos” of " mind," no " dark, jarring might not make his fictitious characters and convulsed elements." These are

infidels, or atheists, or whatever 'he only felt where virtue and vice combat thought proper. Virtue is not in danwith each other, but where no spark of

ger by the exposal of vice, unless this virtue remains, the slave of vice travels

vice be presented to us as virtue. We

do not believe that the noblé Lord has forward smoothly and quietly in the paths of iniquity. The Corsair, how

any where attempted to effect this meever, was far from suffering every prin

tamorphosis, though we are not so blind ciple of virtuę to perish within him;

as not to perceive, that he frequently and he seems to be continually at war

treats virtue with too much levitywith himself for not quitting the pre

Indeed, we have no hesitation to assert

, datory life which he led altogether. In

that Lord Byron's genius is of that chathe following lines, he acknowledges

racter, which is nearly allied to 'madnot only his belief in a God, but that

The impetuosity of his passions "the life which he led was opposed to

trample every thing under foot, and, his will :

therefore, he never enquires, for a mo

ment, whether what he asserts, be true “My sole resources in the path I trod

or false. Hence, in all his descriptions, Were these-my bark-my sword-my love he copsults his feelings and passions

my God; The last i left in youth; he leaves me now."

alone, never reflecting, whether the The critics generally admit, that

objects, images, and situations, which

they picture to his mind, may be recon. Macbeth was, at bottom, a virtuous ciled with the dictates of reason or not.


thing the

-Ina words his love passion. It is poets of his age, and if he could

vocal manner, his superiority to all the very easy to perceive, that if he had compromise so far as to overlook his as frequently spoken the language of moral imperfections, we know not of reason as of passion, le could no longer a more real or zealous admirer of Lord display, that deep and intense pathos, Byron's poetry and poetical genius...* that bold, sublime, and rapid imagery which characterize, his writings, and place him at the head of all our living Dangerous Errors; a Tale, 6s. bds. poets. We must not read his works, Life is encompassed by such a multitherefore, to become acquainted with plicity of dangers, and actions, appaphilosophy or religion; we must read rently the wisest and the most mathem merely to enjoy the high delights turely weighed, are so frequently found of poetic rapture, and to rovę at large to end in consequences which no hu. through the Elysian retreats and fairy man wisdom can either anticipate or habitations of the ideal world; but we prevent, that it is difficult to deter, must forget, at the same time, that we mine, in particular cases, what line of are feasting, not in the virgin paradise conduct can be pursued with greatest of reason, but in the sensual bowers of certainty of success. The errors, which Calypso. The works of Lord Byron are called dangerous in the work be, must, therefore, be read for enjoyment, fore us, cannot, therefore, be laid down and not for improvement. We know as landmarks to guide the conduct of it is possible to mingle morality with others placed in similar situations, bepoetry, but we know, that except to cause similar measures have been fre. minds very rigidly disciplined to moral quently crowned with success, where habits, poetry bas more attractions with the circunstances and prospects of out it; the cool and sage demeanour of the parties were apparently the same. the one but ill accords with the frenzied We do not, however, find fault with eye and glowing countenance of the the title of this little novel; and, to other. Let us not, then, seek for mos confess the truth, so seldom have we rality where it ought not to be expected. found reason to be satisfied with the Lord Byron does not profess himself harmony, that exists between title pages a divine. Why, then, censure him for and the works to which they are prepot discharging a duty which belongs fixed, that, on reading the title of the to others? He who wishes to be in work before us, we began to suspect structed, let him apply to the church : that the “ Dangerous Errors" proved he who wishes to be pleased, let him to be, not merely dangerous, but fatal. apply to Lord Byron. We must, how We were happy, however, to find ourever, say, that though it is not the selves deceived. The errors of the business of a poet to preach morality, parties merely brought them to the neither is it his business to expose it to precipicę, while a higher ordination ridicule. He may be luxuriant without rescued them from the perils to which being rampant. And we doubt not, their conduct exposed them. The story when the effervescence of youthful pas is simply this. sion begins to give way to the dominion Lady Blanche and Lady Julia Tave. of reason, but that Lord Byron will alter nier, residing under the guardianship the style and character of his poetry. of a Mr. Marsden, their tutor, at AvesUntil then, we have little hopes. dale Castle, received a communication

Our limits will not permit us to extend from their father, Lord Tavenier, a our observations on this work farther. nobleman in high fayour with his SoWith the author's opinion on the con vereign, intimating his intention to troversy between Lord Byron and Mr. take them to town, and to present them Bowles, with whom he takes part at Court immediately on their arrival. agaibst his Lordship, we do not agree; Lady Blanche received the informabut the subject is already so familiar tion with great delight, and Lady Julia, to the public, that we shall not notice with proportionate regret. Lord Taveit here. We repeat, however, what we nier, who had not seen his daughters asserted at setting out, that the author for some time, exercised his paternal of this work seems not to have under solicitude in comparing their personal taken it in the spirit of enmity to Lord and mental accomplishments with each Byron, but through a zeal for what he other. Blanche, he thought, had the supposed to be the cause insulted advantage of striking beauty; but Julia truth. He selects the finest passages the more enviable charm of interesting to be met with in his works, and does loveliness. Blanche would be admired every justice to his poetic beauties. by all; but Julia, if once loved must Me acknowledges, in the most unequi. be adored.

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