his complex character. Callous he was not. Without reading into his poetry any facts of his life, there is no more impassioned expression of the feeling of remorse than is to be found in Manfred.' It is a personal cry wrung from the depths. The later years in Italy were regulated by the influence of the Countess Guiccioli. Their story is too familiar to be retold. The new letters confirm or settle some minor points of controversy in Byron's favour. He was, for instance, neither niggardly to Shelley nor unkind to his widow. On the contrary, he lent his brother-poet money, refused his legacy, and treated Mary Shelley with a kindness for which she repeatedly expressed her gratitude. The very serious charge of suppressing the letter which Mary Shelley entrusted to him to forward to Hoppner, is found to be incapable of proof. That he behaved harshly to Clare Clairmont appears to be true. But nothing is known of his reasons for refusing to see or write to her. It is the brutality of his expressions rather than his conduct that Shelley condemns. Both he and his wife approved of his insisting on the custody of the child. I feel,' writes Shelley, 'more and more strongly the wisdom of your firmness on the subject. . . . Allegra's happiness depends upon your perseverance.' The child's death was a blow which he felt acutely. He never could bear to mention her name. In the spring of 1823, Byron was settled at the Casa Salucci near Genoa in the company of the Countess Guiccioli, her father Count Gamba, and his family. The association had lasted four years. The tie may have been no longer cherished. It may have been worn as a fetter. Its duration may have depended more on circumstances than on affection. For Byron's sake, Teresa Guiccioli had fled from her husband's house. Partly on account of the association with Byron, Count Gamba had been exiled from Ravenna, and he and his son had been expelled from Tuscan territory. So long as these circumstances lasted, honour forbade him to seek freedom. Suddenly a change came. By the intervention of the Pope, Count Gamba was recalled from exile on the condition that he brought his daughter home with him. Her husband was willing to take her back, or, if she wished, to provide separate maintenance. But she must give up Byron. Every argument of worldly interest enforced the proposal. The Countess reluctantly consented. Byron was free. She and her father had gone, when Byron went on board the collier-brig 'Hercules' (July 13, 1823) bound for Leghorn on his way to Greece. A contrary wind detained the ship in harbour. Byron came ashore and wandered through the deserted house and empty rooms-alone with his thoughts. The next day he sailed. To him and his friends the cause of Greece was the cause of liberty and of humanity. He had an ideal and lived up to it in action. He shouldered responsibility, showed sound sense, firmness, perseverance, and courage. When he died at Messalonghi, his last messages, which might have explained much and modified many judgments, were unintelligible. The theme is well-worn. It is impossible to write on it with freshness, still more with authority. Each individual will form his own picture of the man. Inevitably, the opinions of contemporaries, however brief and partial their acquaintance, influence our judgments. Impressions formed a century later are comparatively valueless. Knowing this, I hesitate to state any personal experiences. I only do so in the hope that, here and there, others will give Byron a fairer hearing. For several years my leisure was spent in the society of Byron and his friends. I started with a strong aversion, which was again and again deepened by some display of the baser qualities of his nature. But, in the end, the conviction grew that he was not only a greater but a better and more lovable man than he allowed himself to appear. That impression is confirmed by the letters from Shelley, the one man who was his intellectual equal, the one man with whom, in spite of his habitual incontinence of speech, he talked without restraint, the man who was, as he himself said, 'the best and least selfish man I ever knew; I never knew one who was not a beast in comparison.' ERNLE. INDEX TO THE TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SEVENTH VOLUME OF THE QUARTERLY REVIEW. [Titles of Articles are printed in heavier type. The names of authors of A. Abyssinia under Menelik and Acheson, Arthur, 'Shakespeare and Acton, John, Lord, 'Lectures on the Adams Family, The, 298–312. Adowa, Victory of, 38, 43. bers, 323-Report, 323-325, 328-330. Alexandria, result of bombardment, Allenby, Viscount, Commander-in- Alpine Club, Presidential address, Alverstone, Richard, Lord, 58. See American Army Transport, 369- Barruel, M., Mémoires pour servir Beaconsfield, Earl, criticism on, 232 398. Castex, Capt. R., Synthèse de la Cecil, Lady Gwendolen, The Life of Central Europe, Monarchism in, Chambrun, Comtesse de, 'Giovanni Charles, Emperor of Austria, attempt Chesney, Colonel, exploration of the 'Christianity and Industrial Prob- Churchill, Rt Hon. Winston, Life Clarendon Press, edition of Shake- Claudel, Paul, Annonce faite à Clubs and Coffee-houses of London, Cole, G. D. H., 'Self-Government in Collins, Michael, character, 208. Corbett, Sir Julian, 'Napoleon and Craig, Sir James, correspondence Craven, Mrs, 'Récit d'une Sœur,' 382. Cromer, Earl, Financial Member of Cruiser-raiders, case of, 185. . of Culbertson, Mr, Commercial Policy Curel, François de, character of his Custance, Adm. Sir B. N., opinion D. Dardanelles expedition, 370–377. Davison, H. P., scheme for a League Delaisi, M., 'Le Petrole,' 285. Dobson, Austin, 53-67. Doumic, René, 'De Scribe à Ibsen,' Dreadnoughts, number of, 355. F. Fabre, Emile, character of his plays, Farmers' Union, National, statement Farms, system of yearly tenancies, Fascism and its Political Influ- Fielding, Henry, essay on, 110. Ford, Worthington Chauncey, 'The France, military expedition against Freemasonry, Illuminised, 86. French Drama of Manners, The, Froude, J. A., 'Life of Carlyle,' 381. G. Gayer, Capt. A., 'Submarines in George, Rt Hon. D. Lloyd, proposals 'Globe,' edition of Shakespeare, 5. |