The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1824-10-02 00:00:00

CHELTENHAM. SEPT. 80.

Lord Charlemont and family left us on Monday, after
a r.:sidcnee of several weeks._ _

The Duchess of Beaufort has been residing some time
in a house in Air. Thorhpson'ifkids.
This morning the Nichess of Beaufort took the Chair
at a meeting of the Ladies' Hibernian Girls' Society, at the
Pump Room of the Old Royal Well, the use of which
was gratuitously given by Mr. Chambers, the manager of
that establishment.

The Secretary of the Society read the proceedings of the
past year, from which it appeared that the Society was
only in its infancy, having been formed at two meetings of
ladies, at the house of the Dnehess of Beaufort, while re-
siding in this town last October. The receipts during the
year had amounted to upwards of 2SOi.
The communications and correspondence as to the state
of educattun in the different counties and parishes in
Ireland wer•: read, from s bleb it appeared generally that
there bad not been the least disposition to instruct children
in anything but spinning. The object of the Society was
to teach them sewing, knitting, rind reading—to enable
them to read the Scriptures, particularly the New Tes-
tament.

After the report had been read, the Rev. Mr. Cioss
addressed the Meeting at considerable length on the merits
of the Institution. He read several documents proving the
utility of the Society. Their pursuit was sanctioned by
his Majesty's Government, from which it had received es-
service by receiving their letters postage free, which
had been granted by Lord Liverpool, on proper app:ication
being made to the Noble Earl, who at first granted the
privilege for six months; and, at the expiration of that
time renewed the grant for a similar term ; and he had no
doubt but that the grant would be mad permanent, it
being the Noble Earl's wish to do, both privately and of-
ficially. every thin.. in his power to ameliorate the condi-
tiouv of the Irish people. He stated an instance of the
gross ignorance of an Irish-woman, who considered a
Roman Catholic Catechistn the word of GA.

Counse:ljo StuoEtt, who is here for the recover, of his
health, rose and said, that as an Irishman he felt. himself
called upon to address the Meeting, to state his approval of
the objects of the Society. lie urged them to perseverance ;
at the same time recommending them to keep to their pro-
fessed object, and not to interfere with the prejudices of
the Irish people. Ile greatly rejoiced at the number of
Societies witiolt were formed in England for enlightening
and bettering the condition of his countrymen.

The Duke andClies-sof Clir.en-ce, accompanied by the
Duke of Aleiningen, arrives' in town yesterday morning,
front their residence at Bushy.
On Thursday evening, about seven o'clock, the Duchess
of licnt, accompanied by the Princesfees Victoria and Foo-
dore, and attLuded by the Baroness de Spaedth and Capt.
Conroy, arrived at her apartments at Kensington Palace
from flatusgate, where the Royal Duchess has been resid-
ing for a considerable time. her Royal Highness gave a
grand dinner yesterday to the Duke and Duchess of Cla-
rence and the Duke of Meiningen.
Prince Polignze, the French Ambassador, transacted
business yesterday afternoon at the Foreign Office, Down-
ing-street.
Mr. Secretary Canning came from Gloucester Lodge yes-
terday morning, and traulsacted business at the Foreign
Office in Downing-street.
Mr. Peel is expected to arrive in town this evening, from
Staffordshire.

The. Right Hon. J. Beckett, Judge Advocate General,
left his house in Downin-street, on Thursday, for the
Royal Lodge, to lay before &c King various proceedings by
Courts Martial, and receive his Majesty s commando
thereupon.
The Countess of Warwick, with her two sons, Lord
Munson and Lord Brooke, arrived at Burton on Saturday
last, and were in the race-stand on Wednesday, after au
absence of some years.—Linedn Paper.
The following distinguished perseuagre arrived at the
King's Anna, Liverpool, during the last few days:—The
Marquis of Titchfield, the Marquis of Waterford, Lord
Bcresford, D. Kerr, Esq. M.P., and Lady Cecilia Kerr.
The Hon. Thomas Vcsey, the eldest son of Viscount De
Vesci, having completed his 21st year on the 21st instant,
great rejoicings took place at Abbcyleix and its vicinity.—
Dublin Evening Herald.
A Dublin paper of Monday says, " We regret to learn,
that the Rev. Mr. Maturin, well known in the literary
world, lies dangerously ill."
Married on Tuesday, by special licence, Lord Henry
Seymour Moore, only brother to the Marquis of Drogh, da,
to Mary, second daughter of Sir Henry Parnell, Bart. M.P.
for the Queen's County, and niece of the. Marquis of Bute
and the Earl of Portarlington. Itninethately after the ce-
remony the happy pair set out for the Continent.
Horace Walpule, speaking of the opening of the budget
one year, says, "the rest of the night was spent in a kind
of avoirdupois war."
Tba Prioceso of Tuestvra* alwaya in mourning for
some Sovereign, Prince, or. Princess. One day Mdc. de
Suvigne happening to meet her in colours, made her a low
curtesy, and said—" liadame, je me rejusgis de la sante de
t Europe."
It is stated that a celebrated bookseller for some time
past has been amusing himself driving a public 'edge coach.
We have not elte:srd the name of the vehicle, but presume
it must be " The Heading Fly."
Tile REJECTED PLEDGE .—A drunken fellow, who
could get no further credit at the alehouse, at length car-
ried his wife's bible to pawn fur a quartern of brandy, but
the landlord refused to take it. " `That the Devil!'. said
the fellow, " will neither my word nor the word of God
pass current with you ?"
There are two places where men are on a perfect equa-
lity—at the gaining table and at the watering-places: who-
ever risks much at play will feel this ; and as for the Wa-
tering-places, the last earner, ha he Duke or Prince, is
obliged to take the lower end of tl:e general table.

This is the mos' solemn day in the whole year among
the Hebrews. It is called the White Fast, and is observed
amongst them very strictly ; and in general they remain the
whole of the day in the SynagNuo, without partaking of
any food. The White Fait commenced yesterday evening
at six o'clock, and flui.ilies this evening, the moment it is
dark.

II Az* an and Co. are thg Contractors for the present
popular Lottery. The S.:llmila, to he drawn next Tuesday,
cootsins Four Prizes of Twenty Thonaantl, and thirty-four
other Capitals, all to 1).• drawn on tl.at day, when the iin-
tuella,: sum of 400.000/. will be distributeJ to the public in
1 few hours: there are u, Blanks. every number being en-
titled to Fivo. Pounds. And Co. sold Three Twenty
Thousands las: Lottery, and all Three in Shams. at their
old-estahlislica &Ices, Royal Exchange Gate; 26( Corn.
hill ; 32t, Oxford-street, end of It.sicent-street. Hazard
and Co. liar.: a6n:ts in all the principe con::try

LORD RYROX. •
• -0111110,-:-
TO THE EDITOR Cl' ICi..BRITISiI PRESS.

Str.,—,i character of Loeb LYROY has made its ap-
pearance in a most respectable periodical work ( the Londo4
Magazine), and has from thence found its way into ail the
leading daily papers, which of course has givett it au local-,
culablv extensive circulation ; and with it that sort of sane-
non which the very selecting it so gercrallv for insertion
must he supposed to confer. Now, Loan iilfRON I CODJD•
der as one in whose fame we have all a common interest;
his genius was of that high and elevated cast which iden-
tifies
itself with the celebrity of the country which gave it
birth ; it is always painful to find the sublimer qualities of
the mind mixed up in any man with a mass of grosser
patticles, which destroy their value and take from their
effect; but we owe it to every manly and to every cha-
ritable feeling of our nature, to remark upon his infirmities,
if we must remark upon them, at least with fairness, if
even we should give up nothing to the grateful recollee-
tion of the delight which his writings have afforded
us. if the person who has given this delineation of
LORD lIVZON 113.1 penned it in the sternness of truth,
and in the uncompromising spirit of justice, though one
might be pained to see such a figure stand before us, when
the veil was thrown aside, no blame could attach to him
who drew the portrait. Bit the character which is here
drawn of this extraordinary man, gives hi:n to the world as
a compound of all the worst qualities which can dishonour
our nature, and of all the most repulsive vices by which
it can be disgraced. It is impossible to read it without
saying at the close "on erway hat,i done this." He is placed
before us, severed from every virtuous attribute which
could embalm his inetnory: every association is, as it were,
tern away, which we had delighted to cherish; nothing
remai,is which can take any hold upon our affections ; we
have nothing left in this description of hint, but a ghastly
mass of moral deformity, which we way well cast, in
sorrow, from our remembrance.
The writer contrives to accompany even any slight good
quality which he may ascribe to him, with some drawback
that destroys its impression.
Ile was one." he tells us, to a faalt.—a characteristic, pro.
bably the restilt of his fearlessness and independence M the world ;
but spurn was lie. that his friends were obligt-1 to fire tip.m their
guard with him. tic was the worst person in the world to cord&
a secret to, add if any charge against any tacitly was mentioned to
him, it was probably the first communication ho made to the per-
son in question."
Now this contemptible breach of confidence is never
found but in that gossiping and silly class of persons who
are either led to it by their turn for scandal, or who can
find no source of eenversation but in retailing what they
have collected from those who were weak enough to con-
fide in them: and vet we are toll, with absurd inconsis-
tency, in The very next sentence, that "he hated scandal and
tittle-tattle."

The following indicates a constitution of mind wholly
out of the frame of human nature ; envy may rise high
towards those who cross as in our owa pa'h to fame, hut
to be jealous to excess of that celebrity which is making its
way in a totally opposite direction, is a n orbid state of
mind which is never found in real life. The Pli‘sician
does not envy the eloquence of the Senator, nor the Senator
the victory of the Celieral; and yet we are told of Lord
13vitox, that

" Ili, vanity was excessive—unless it may with greater propriety
be called by a softer name--a nuttier teen, and perhaps a juster,
would be, his love of fame. lie was earobitrunly desirous of being
the sole object of interest ; whether in the circle in which he was
living. or in the wider sphere of the world, he auld bear no rival ;
he could not tolerate the person who attracted Mention from him.
self ; he instantly became animated with a Inca jealousy, and
hated, for the time, every greateror more celebrated man than him.
self: he carried his jealousy up even to Buonaparte ; and it was
the secret of his contempt of Wellington. It was dangetous for
his friends to rise in the world; if they valued their own lame more
than his friendship—lie hated them."
This writer does nct seem aware that all the higher clap
of intellectual qualities hold an inseparable corrtspondence
—that such a feeling as he here describes is incompatible
with others, the presence of which lie is forced to adtait—
and that he consetpuintly betrays the baseness of his own
deliberate misrepresentation. It is impassible for any can-
did mind not to feel indignant at the mental impulse
which he ascribes to Loan /3ysoN as inducing hint to
embrace the cause of Grecian frc.;loin. Ile strives to
throw a ghastly lustre over that brightest, proudest period
of hie life—a period which, short us it was, displayed all
the finer traits of his natural character in their full strength.
Ile threw himself, heart and soul. into the conflict—he
shrunk from no expense that his fortune multi, furnish ;
his money, his time, his counsel—all the aid lie could pro-
cure, anti all the rate ms he could cm:inland—were furnished
with enthusiasm, and with a zeal that never slackatied
and yet this writer assigns to all this the [silliest of all
preponderating motives.
" Before he went to Greece, he imagined that he had grown very
unpopular, and even infamous in England ; when he lett ifiotrey,
engaged in the Literal, which was unsuccessful, published with the
Hunts, he fancied, and doubtless was told so by unre of his atisto. !
cratic friends, that he bad become lore, that the better English
thought him out of fashion, and voted him vulgar; and that for the
(licentiousness of Don Juana or tar vices either practised or sus- '
petted, the public had morally otulatuil him. This was one of
the deterniinirg causes which led htin to Greece, that he might re-
trieve himself. lie thought that his name coupled with the Greek
cause, would sound well at home. When he arrived at Cephalonia,
and found that lie was in good odour with the Authoritivs—that the
regiment stationed there, and otter Englislt residents iu the island,
received him with the highest consideration. lie was gratified to a
most extravagant pitch ; he talked at it to the last with a pergeve-
ranee, and in a manner which showed how anxious his tears had
been that be was lust with the English people." • • •
This portrait-painter is very little studied in the laws of
nature, or he would not give this as a development of the
motive which could actuate either Loan Byron, or any
human being, to such heroic waif-devotion. Men arc borne
forward on such occasions by an energy that is omnipotent.
The meaner springs of action are flitted to no such end.
It is the deepest malignity alone that would look for them
in such a track.

As to his private habits, this g..0.1-natured ft ;end goes on
to inform us, that
" At times, too, he was excessively given to drinking ; but this
is not so uncommon. In his passage from Genoa to Cephalonia he
spent the principal part of the time in drinking with the Captain of
the vessel. lie could bear an immense quantity of liquor without
intosication, and was by no means particular either Li the nature
or in the under of the fluids he imbibed. lle was by no means a
drinker constantly, or, in other words, a drunkard, and could,
indeed, be as abstemious as any body ; but a hen his passion blew
that war, he drank, as h_ did every thing els:, t err, sr.
" This was• indeed, the spirit of his lite—a round of passions
indulgence, and satiety."
To affirm of any 0:.,e that he is "excessively glens to
drinking, at firms,' is a slander that is neutralised by its
inconsistency : it is as if we were to describes man as bar.
ing ace.ssionallp a habit of swearing. With the same
abrir-
dity a round of satiety is stated as creating in part the spi-
rit t:f bid
It is oftentimes the fate of transcendent genius to be the
sport of wayward fancy and of casual impulse. The • cry
ardour of its temperament is apt to hurry it beyond the
limit at which the more phlegmatic and rsdactive stop short.
But this illustrious Poet is painted as debasing all his
faculties so utterly, that we search in vain for a single de-
terminate, redeeming virtue. This writer affects, with
great metaphysical minuteness, to contrast Lord Byron
with himself. He makes him a prodigy by fits and starts
for fire minutes, and contemptible nine hours out of ten.
" No two Inca were ever more unlike :than Lord Byron excited,
and Lord Byron in the ordinary state of calm. His friends about
Min used to call it inspiration ; and when men of their stamp talk
about inspiration. there must no common change take plaue. When
excited, his sentiments were noble, his ideas grand or beantiful• his
language rich and enthusiastic, his views elevated, and all his feel.
legs of that disinterested and martyr-like cast which 'perks the
great mind. tVheti in the usual dull mood in which every hody
wearica their friends nine hours out of tt n, his ideas were gross, his
language coarse, his sentiments not mean certainly, but of a low
and sensual kind ; his mood cieering and satirical, unless in a very
good humour, tibial indeed lie often, I may say gracrally, less."
After thus stripping hint of all the attributes of either a
manly or a moral nand, he is then pleased to tell us that
this is the wrong side of the picture. %Verve. at least, from
this confession, to coneutic, that the rig/it rile will furnish
a favourable representation ; whereas it is a charcoal
sketch, still more offensive. IL c,rividers the description
we have just read, as taking hint at tie worst. IVc shall
see how he takes hint of Me best.
•• This is, however. the wrong side of the picture Li lord
Byron : he may be said here to be taken at the worst. Without
being what I have called crated, his conversation was often very
delightful, though almost always polluted by groesness—grossness
of the very broadest and lowest description, like, I cannot help
saying again, like almost all bis class—all of them that do Lot Ile
either in the for of God, or of the public. His grossness. too, had
the advantage of a Utile fancy, sad at:c.h subjects were the ready

source of a petty kind of exciter:lex ; the torbiticea atede, Ue
forbidden topics, the concealed acdor.s of our catr.re, .
secret vices of society. atimuiated his iniagiaatioa, and stizrauZ,
he loved. and may be said at times to hare wan:cd. He
did permit his fancy to feed or this dunghtil garbage; rev cs.a
then, indeed, even here he scratched up. • pearl; but so dm),
pearl, feat would be at the pains of wealt:ng it for •71 its Fri,
A wan of this stamp in real life is utterly wit to sc.
oomph& an} thing great or good. No one whose attar;
conversation, and character were of this gran anl revolt.
ing cast, could deserve to live in. the memory of roank:cd,
whatever were the powers of his mind. Rut it is a iilkica
the author of Clad:, 11,4r,iii to put forth such a re:team,
tation of him as a faithful rezernblaLce. He h& s,xt. 4
is titre,..
•

" Of life's extremes the grardeta area the ewe..
But where is thhaesmostien.,.itihiant, t: he
libfee!:oardinbceuhis
pliklbtt
lap of
writings,weamithore, of a Briton's independence?" In Eatthe Wings of his death threw a glow:. over crery
cirdr
In France it called forth a deep and sincere feelir.g of NI.
lie sorrow. Greece, where his last pulse beat, is re: ad
consoled for bis loss. And is it here, in the county o{6
11 birth, that we are to vilify his character and blast 'ail mite?' It were Weil if such slatulerers would school reNsests,
before they shed their foul mildew on another s fame.
Who would not suppose that this writer was describicr,
in what follows, an ir.dividurl so wholly devoid of all senit
• h*mert, and with a mind so capricious and ill-regulated
in(
as to have absolutely no character at all ?
•

" Uncertain and wirering, iat never inew himself whether kr
waa right or wrong, and was always obliged to write and feel for
the momar.t on the anpposition that his opinion was the tr.:s era.
lie used to declare that he had we fixed prir.tiples t which means,
he knew nf•thit.g scientifically. Its polincs, for iLstaacr br was a
:over of nerty, from prejudice, habit. or some ragas nor= that it
was ger.erons to be so; but in what liberty tray consists how it
operates for the advantage of ounkind—how it is VI be obtained.
sccureti, :Notated, he was as ignorant as a child."

We have here a total absence of everything like an et.
lightened understanding ; whereas, a concentration of its
fore.: was one of the leading traits of Lord Brace's intake.
tual character. No man knew better than he did wt.-La hs
was right, or felt more conscientiously when he was wrong.
It may be that be often went straight•onward to his chyle,
but be was always prepared to meet the conempleten,
whatever they might be; stnd neither the dread of repel(
nor the frown of power c uld turn him front big purple,
To affirm of such a man that he had no.fized princifla, it
either a foolish. calumny or a gross misconception. To
give it as a confession from himself is repostcrocs: it
gives the lie direct to that excise of vanity with which the
writer clothed him at the outset. To impute it, mere.ver,
to Lord Benotc, whose hesoin burned with an ardour in.
extinguishable for the freedom of the human race, that he
was utterly ignorant of what real liberty consists—to affirm
thin of one whose strongest forces of thought and paukn
showed how deeply he was cwibued with all its Les: pric-
ciplcs, is sheer defamation, and can only originate in an
anxiety to weaken the influence of his writings, by in (E'en
to lesw•n their popularity.
I shall trespass at parent no further on vonr eeltner.e ;
and there is, in fact. the less occasion, as the naligiany of
this writer carries with it its own antidote.
umober I.