66 66 or any of the Cicerones; but the know ledge is somewhat misplaced where it "is. Shelley went to the opposite extreme, and never made any notes. 66 "Hobhouse has an excellent heart: he fainted when he heard a false report "of my death in Greece, and was won 66 derfully affected at that of Matthews-a "much more able man than the Invalid. "You have often heard me speak of him. "The tribute I paid to his memory was a 66 very inadequate one, and ill expressed "what I felt at his loss." It may be asked when Lord Byron writes. The same question was put to Madame de Staël: "Vous ne comptez pas I am sur ma chaise-à-porteur," said she. often with him from the time he gets up till two or three o'clock in the morning, and after sitting up so late he must require rest; but he produces, the next morning, proofs that he has not been idle. Sometimes when I call, I find him at his desk; but he either talks as he writes, or lays down his pen to play at billiards till it is time to take his airing. He seems to be able to resume the thread of his subject at all times, and to weave it of an equal texture. Such talent is that of an improvisatore. The fairness too of his manuscripts (I do not speak of the hand-writing) astonishes no less than the perfection of every thing he writes. He hardly ever alters a word for whole pages, and never corrects a line in subsequent editions. I do not believe that he has ever read his works over since he examined the proof-sheets; and yet he remembers every word of them, and every thing else worth remembering that he has ever known. I never met with any man who shines so much in conversation. He shines the more, perhaps, for not seeking to shine. His ideas flow without effort, without his having occasion to think. As in his letters, he is not nice about expressions or words; there are no concealments in him, no injunctions to secresy. He tells every thing that he has thought or done without the least reserve, and as if he wished the whole world to know it; and does not throw the slightest gloss over his errors. Brief himself, he is impatient of diffuseness in others, hates long stories, and seldom repeats his own. If he has heard a story you are telling, he will say, "You told me that," and with good humour sometimes finish it for you himself. He hates argument, and never argues for victory. He gives every one an opportunity of sharing in the conversation, and has the art of turning it to subjects that may bring out the person with whom he converses. He never shews the author, prides himself most on being a man of the world and of fashion, and his anecdotes of life and living characters are inexhaustible. In spirits, as in every thing else, he is ever in extremes. Miserly in trifles-about to lavish his whole fortune on the Greeks; to-day diminishing his stud-to-morrow taking a large family under his roof, or giving 10007. for a yacht ;* dining for a few Pauls when alone-spending hundreds when he has friends. sibi." "Nil fuit unquam sic impar I am sorry to find that he has become more indolent. He has almost discon tinued his rides on horseback, and has starved himself into an unnatural thinness; and his digestion is become weaker. In order to keep up the stamina that he requires, he indulges somewhat too freely in wine, and in his favourite beverage, * He sold it for 300l. and refused to give the sailors their jackets; and offered once to bet Hay that he would live on 60l. a-year! |