“Suddenly the young Italian found herself inspired with a passion of which till that moment her mind could not have formed the least idea. She had thought of love as an amusement, and now became its slave.”

The relationship that ensued between Byron and the Countess was culpable, but it is well to remember that her own husband condoned it, and that later her father and brother were Byron's best friends and admirers. The Countess had a long and wholesome influence upon the wayward poet, whose excesses were now restrained. It is generally supposed that Byron has the Countess Guiccioli in mind in his description of Aurora Raby in Don Juan:

“Aurora Raby, a young star who shone

O'er life, too sweet an image for such glass,
A lovely being, scarcely form'd or moulded,
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

Radiant and grave-as pitying man's decline;
Mournful - but mournful of another's crime,
She look'd as if she sate by Eden's door,

And grieved for those who could return no more."

The Countess Compares Byron and Shelley.— That the Countess Guiccioli was a woman of some discernment is manifested in the following comparison of the two distinguished English poets, Byron and Shelley:

"In Shelley's heart the dominant wish was to see society entirely reorganized. The sight of human miseries and infirmities distressed him to the greatest degree; but, too modest himself to believe that he was called upon to take the initiative, and inaugurate a new era of good government and fresh laws for the benefit of humanity, he would have been pleased to see such a genius as Byron take the initiative in this undertaking. Shelley therefore did his best to influence Byron. But the latter hated discussions. He could not bear entering into philosophical speculation at times when his soul craved the consolations of friendship, and his mind a little rest. He was quite insensible to reasonings, which often appear sublime because they are clothed in words incomprehensible to those who have not sought to understand their meaning. But he made an exception in favor of Shelley. He knew that he could not shake his faith in a doctrine founded on illusions, by his incredulity; but he listened to him with pleasure, not only on account of Shelley's good faith and siņ

cerity, but also because he argued upon false data, with such talent and originality, that he was both interested and amused. Lord Byron had examined every form of philosophy by the light of common-sense, and by the instinct of his genius. Pantheism in particular was odious to him. He drew no distinction between absolute Pantheism which mixes up that which is infinite with that which is finite, and that form of Pantheism which struggles in vain to keep clear of Atheism. Shelley's views, clothed in a veil of spiritualism, were the most likely to interest Byron, but they did not fix him. Byron could never consent to lose his individuality, deny his own freedom of will, or abandon the hope of a future existence. As a matter of fact, Byron attributed all Shelley's views to the aberrations of a mind which is happier when it dreams than when it denies."

Byron in Greece. — In reading of the last days of Byron, one recalls the lines in Macbeth relating to Cawdor

Byron had his faults, and grievously has he paid for them, but he also had his virtues, and in no aspect of his life do his generosity and nobility show themselves so well as in his relation with the Greek struggle for liberty. He said:

"I have made as many sacrifices to liberty as most people of my age; and the one I am about to undertake is not the least, though probably it will be the last; for with my broken health, and the chances of war, Greece will most likely terminate my career. ... I have a presentiment that I shall die in Greece. I hope it may be in action, for that would be a good finish to a very triste existence, and I have a horror of death-bed scenes; but as I have not been famous for my luck in life, most probably I shall not have more in the manner of my death."

This presentiment was fulfilled, for Byron died in Greece, not in the manner that he would have preferred, on the field of battle, but from a fever whose unfortunate effects were largely increased by the attending physicians, against whose panacea, bleeding, he wisely protested.

In May, 1823, Byron learned that he had been elected a member of the Committee, which sat in London, to promote the cause of the Greeks. In July of the same year Byron, with Trelawney, Count Pietro Gamba, Dr. Bruno, and eight servants, set sail

from Genoa on the English brig Hercules. The crew was commanded by Captain Scott. On board were also five horses, arms, ammunition, and two one-pounder guns taken from the Bolivar. Byron took with him 10,000 Spanish dollars in cash, and 40,000 more in bills of exchange.

Byron's Prudence. - Byron has been censured for not taking an active and prominent part in Greek affairs as soon as he reached Greece. Trelawney thought that Byron was "shillyshallying and doing nothing." Trelawney himself was a man of quick decision and ready action, and it is not strange that he misjudged the deliberation of his friends—especially as Byron himself in many ways was as impulsive as Trelawney. Gamba took a more charitable view - "By perseverance and discernment Byron hoped to assist in the liberation of Greece. To know and to be known was consequently, from the outset, his principal object." Instead of censuring Byron for his hesitation in plunging into the thick of the contest, one must commend his prudence, for Greece was torn by factions. Byron had an unselfish desire to help the Greeks; to be of the greatest service he needed to keep from factional quarrels. In a letter headed, Cephalonia, November 30, 1823, Byron made an appeal to the executive and legislative bodies of the Greek nation. An extract from this letter will show Byron's clear understanding of the situation:

"We have heard some rumors of new dissensions- nay, of the existence of a civil war. With all my heart, I pray that these reports may be false or exaggerated, for I can imagine no calamity more serious than this; and I most frankly confess, that unless union and order are established, all hopes of a loan will be vain."

Also in a letter to his sister we find a clear expression both of his disinterested motive in going to Greece and of the difficulty of helping its people after he had reached that distracted land:

"You ask me why I came up amongst the Greeks. It was stated to me that my doing so might tend to their advantage in some measure, in their present struggle for independence, both as an individual and as a member for the Committee now in England. How far this may be realized I cannot pretend to anticipate, but I am willing to do what I can. They

have at length found leisure to quarrel amongst themselves, after repelling their other enemies, and it is no very easy part that I may have to play to avoid appearing partial to one or other of their factions. . . . You may suppose I have something to think of at least, for you can have no idea what an intriguing, cunning, unquiet generation they are; and as emissaries of all parties come to me at present, and I must act impartially, it makes me exclaim, as Julian did at his military exercises, 'Oh! Plato, what a task for a philosopher!""

Byron Dies.-Where and how far Byron's devotion to the Greek cause would have led him, we cannot say. There are those who say that his ultimate ambition was to become king. There is no doubt but that such a high title and such power would have appealed to much in the nature of Byron, but there is no evidence that he was scheming to obtain the crown. Before Byron had been in Greece a year his end had come. In the spring of 1824 we find him at Missolonghi, a village of about 3,000. The sanitary conditions were sickening. Millingen says that the buildings were so constructed that the most loathsome substances were emptied into the streets. Trelawney describes the place as situated on the verge of a dismal swamp. The place was dangerous for a strong man- for Byron it was fatal, for he was not a strong man when he went to Greece. An irregular manner of life, with fasts and strange and whimsical dietings, together with dissipation, had weakened the poet's constitution.

On the 9th of April Byron and Gamba, while taking a horseback ride, were caught in a heavy rain. "Two hours after his return home," Gamba tells us, "he was seized with a shuddering: he complained of fever and rheumatic pains. At eight in the evening I entered his rooms; he was lying on a sofa, restless and melancholy." Dr. Bruno, who had great faith in bleeding, suggested the use of the lancet. Byron showed his good sense by declining, saying, “Have you no other remedy than bleeding? There are many more die of the lancet than of the lance." Two or three days later Byron felt well enough to take another ride, his last, for the fever grew worse until by the 16th he was "almost constantly delirious." On the 19th, after having been insensible for twenty-four hours, he passed away. Before becom

ing unconscious, he was heard to say, "I am content to die." Of Greece he said, "I have given her my all-my means, my health, and now I give her my life! What could I do more?”

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage.-This is a poem in four cantos, written in the Spenserian stanza. The preface to the first and second cantos is dated, London, February, 1812; the fourth canto, dedicated to his staunch friend, John Hobhouse, is dated, Venice, January 2, 1818. The writing of the poem occupied eight years of the poet's life, as the first canto was begun in October, 1809.

As the title indicates, the poem is the romantic account of the wanderings of a young nobleman whose poetic soul is inspired by the scenes and associations of the places he visits. Harold is a resident of England. Trying to give his style an archaic flavor by the introduction of an occasional Spenserian term-an attempt which is soon abandoned - Byron tells us:

"

Whilome in Albion's isle there dwelt a youth

Who ne in virtue's way did take delight,

But spent his days in riot most uncouth,

And vexed with mirth the drowsy ear of Night.”

It is not hard to guess that Harold spells Byron, and a very young Byron at that, for no fool but a young fool wishes to parade the superfluity of his naughtiness before the world. However, it must be said, in justice to Byron, that his Harold is not a profligate; he is but

"The wandering outlaw of his own dark mind,"

a man aweary of the world, and desirous of letting the world know that his is a dark and gloomy soul. Otherwise the character of Harold is not sharply defined, nor does he play a prominent part in the poem. His story is but the thread upon which are strung a series of descriptions and reflections.

"Oh, lovely Spain!" is the first country visited by our wanderer. The second canto touches upon some of the islands of the Mediterranean, and then dwells upon

"Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth!

Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great!"