Of his feelings on the death of his daughter Allegra, this lady gives the following account :-« On the occasion also of the death of his natural daughter, I saw in his grief the excess of paternal tenderness. His conduct towards this child was always that of a fond father; but no one would have guessed from his expressions that he felt this affection for her. He was dreadfully agitated by the first intelligence of her illness; and when afterwards that of her death arrived, I was obliged to fulfil the melancholy task of communicating it to him. The memory of that frightful moment is stamped indelibly on my mind. For several evenings he had not left his house, I therefore went to him. His first question was relative to the courier he had dispatched for tidings of

« Fra le tante volte che io l'ho veduto in simili circostanze ne ricorderò una che risguarda i suoi sentimenti di amicizia. Pochi giorni prima di lasciare Pisa eravamo verso sera insieme seduti nel giardino del Palazzo Lanfranchi. Una dolce malinconia era sparsa sul suo viso. Egli riandava col pensiero gli avvenimenti della sua vita e faceva il confronto colla attuale sua situazione e quella che avrebbe potuta essere se la sua affezione per me non la avesse fatto restare in Italia; e diceva cose che avrebbero resa per me lo terra un paradiso, se già sino d'allora il pressentimento di perdere tanta felicità non mi avesse tormentata. In questo mentre un domestico annunciò Mr Hobhouse. La leggiera tinta di malinconia sparsa sul viso di Byron fece luogo subitamente alla più viva gioia; ma essa fu così forte che gli tolse quasi le forze. Un pallore commovente ricoperse il suo volto, e nell' abbracciare il suo amico i suoi occhi erano pieni di lacrime di contento. E l'emozione fu così forte che egli fu obbligato di sedersi, sentendosi mancare le forze.

« La venuta pure di Lord Clare fu per lui un epoca di grande felicità. Egli amava sommamente Lord Clare-egli era così felice in quel breve tempo che passò presso di lui a Livorno, e il giorno in cui si separarono fu un giorno di grande tristezza per Lord Byron. Io ho il pressentimento che non lo vedrò più' diceva egli; e i suoi occhi si riempirono di lacrime; e in questo stato l'ho veduto per vari settimanee dopo la partenza di Lord Clare, ogni qual volta il discorso cadeva sopra di codesto amico."

sorrow,

his daughter, and whose delay disquieted him. After a short interval of suspense, with every caution that my own sorrow suggested, I deprived him of all hope of the child's recovery. 'I understand,' said he 'it is enough, say no more.' A mortal paleness spread itself over his face, his strength failed him, and he sunk into a seat. His look was fixed, and the expression such that I began to fear for his reason; he did not shed a tear, and his countenance manifested so hopeless, so profound, so sublime a that at the moment he appeared a being of a nature superior to humanity. He remained immoveable in the same attitude for an hour, and no consolation which I endeavoured to afford him seemed to reach his ears, far less his heart. But enough of this sad episode, on which I cannot linger, even after the lapse of so many years, without renewing in my own heart the awful wretchedness of that day. He desired to be left alone, and I was obliged to leave him. I found him on the following morning tranquillised, and with an expression of religious resignation on his features. She is more fortunate than we are,' he said; 'besides, her position in the world would scarcely have allowed her to be happy. It is God's will-let us mention it no more.' And from that day he would never pronounce her name, but became more anxious when he spoke of Ada,—so much so as to disquiet himself when the usual accounts sent him were for a post or two delayed.»1

6

« Nell' occasione pure de morte della sua figlia naturale io ho veduto nel suo dolore tuttociò che vi è di più profondo nella tenerezza paterna. La sua condotta verso di codesta fanciulla era stata sempre quella del padre il più amoroso; ma dalle di lui parole non si sarebbe giudicato che avesse tanta affezione per lei. Alla prima notizia della di lei malattia egli fu sommamente agitato; giunse poi la notizia della morte, ed io dovetti esercitare il tristo uficio di participarla a Lord Byron. Quel sen

The melancholy death of poor Shelley, which happened, as we have seen, also during this period, seems to have affected Lord Byron's mind less with grief for the actual loss of his friend than with bitter indignation against those who had, through life, so grossly misrepresented him; and never certainly was there an instance where the supposed absence of all religion in an individual was assumed so eagerly as an excuse for the entire absence of truth and charity in judging him. Though never personally acquainted with Mr Shelley, I can join freely with those who most loved him in admiring the various excellencies of his heart and genius, and lamenting the too early doom that robbed us of the mature fruits of both. His short life had been, like his poetry, a sort of bright, erroneous dream,-false in the general principles on which it proceeded, though beau

sibile momento sarà indelebile nella mia memoria. Egli non usciva da varii giorni la sera: io andai dunque da lui. La prima domanda che egli mi fece fu relativa al Corriere che egli aveva spedito per avere notizie della sua figlia, e di cui il retardo lo inquietava. Dopo qualche momento di sospensione con tutta l'arte che sapeva suggerirmi il mio proprio dolore gli tolsi ogni speranza della guarigione della fanciulla. 'Ho inteso,' disse egli—‹ basta così—non dite di più’— '-e un pallore mortale si sparse sul suo volto; le forze gli mancarono, e cadde sopra una sedia d'appoggio. Il suo sguardo era fisso e tale che mi fece temere per la sua ragione. Egli rimase in quello stato d'immobilità un'ora; e nessuna parola di consolazione che io potessi indirizzargli pareva penetrare le sue orecchie non che il suo core. Ma basta così di questa trista detenzione nella quale non posso fermarmi dopo tanti anni senza risvegliare di nuovo nel mio animo le terribili sofferenze di quel giorno. La mattina lo trovai tranquillo, e con una espressione di religiosa rassegnazione nel suo volto. Ella è più felice di noi,' diss' egli—'d'altronde la sua situazione nel mondo non le avrebbe data forse felicità. Dio ha voluto così-non ne parliamo più.' E da quel giorno in poi non ha più voluto proferire il nome di quella fanciulla. Ma è divenuto più pensieroso parlando di Adda, al punto di tormentarsi quando gli ritardavano di qualche ordinario le di lei notizie.»

tiful and attaching in most of the details. Had full time been allowed for the « over-light» of his imagination to have been tempered down by the judgment which, in him, was still in reserve, the world at large would have been taught to pay that high homage to his genius which those only who saw what he was capable of can now be expected to accord to it.

It was about this time that Mr Cowell, paying a visit to Lord Byron at Genoa, was told by him that some friends of Mr Shelley, sitting together one evening, had seen that gentleman, distinctly, as they thought, walk into a little wood at Lerici, when at the same moment, as they afterwards discovered, he was far away, in quite a different direction. « This," added Lord Byron, in a low, awe-struck tone of voice, « was but ten days before poor Shelley died."

LETTER DIV.

TO MR MURRAY.

Genoa, October 9th, 1822. << I have received your letter, and as you explain it, I have no objection, on your account, to omit those passages in the new Mystery (which were marked in the half-sheet sent the other day to Pisa), or the passage in Cain; but why not be open, and say so at first? You should be more straight-forward on every account.

<< I have been very unwell-four days confined to my bed in the worst inn's worst room,' at Lerici, with a violent rheumatic and bilious attack, constipation, and the devil knows what:-no physician, except a young fellow, who, however, was kind and cautious, and that's enough.

<< At last I seized Thompson's book of prescriptions (a donation of yours), and physicked myself with the first dose I found in it; and after undergoing the ravages of all kinds of decoctions, sallied from bed on the fifth day to cross the Gulf to Sestri. The sea revived me instantly; and I ate the sailors' cold fish, and drank a gallon of country wine, and got to Genoa the same night after landing at Sestri, and have ever since been keeping well, but thinner, and with an occasional cough towards evening.

<< I am afraid the Journal is a bad business, and won't do; but in it I am sacrificing myself for others—I can have no advantage in it. I believe the brothers Hunts to be honest men; I am sure that they are poor ones; they have not a nap. They pressed me to engage in this work, and in an evil hour I consented. Still I shall not repent, if I can do them the least service. I have done all I can for Leigh Hunt since he came here; but it is almost useless: his wife is ill, his six children not very tractable, and in the affairs of this world he himself is a child. The death of Shelley left them totally aground; and I could not see them in such a state without using the common feelings of humanity, and what means were in my power, to set them afloat again.

« So Douglas Kinnaird is out of the way? He was so the last time I sent him a parcel, and he gives no previous notice. When is he expected again?

« Yours, etc. « P.S. Will you say at once--do you publish Werner and the Mystery or not? You never once allude to them.

<< That curst advertisement of Mr J. Hunt is out of the limits. I did not lend him my name to be hawked about in this way.