Phenix gazette. [volume] (Alexandria [D.C.]) 1825-1833, 1831-10-29
From Ike Edinbufg Rcricr.
LIFE AND CHARAC TER OF LokD hi-
AsH~ -

The pretty fable BY which the Duchess OF or-
leans illustrates the character OF her son the re-
rant. MIGHT. with little change, be applied 10 BY
ron All the FAIRIES, save one, had been Diddeh
N his cradle. All the gossips had been profuse
of their gifts One had bestowed nobility ano,
,hsr genius. third beauty. The malignant Ell
wbo had heen uninvited, came last, and, unabie
n reverse what her sisters had done Tor the'r Id
yorite, had mixed up curse with every bie'sihs'
In the rank of Lord Byron in his understanding,
in his character, in his very person. there was
strange union Of opposite extremes ne was
horn to all that men cOvet and admire. Du' III
every one of those eminent advantages "n'ch he
possessed over others, there was mIpg'ed some
thing of misery and debasement' lie was sprung
from house, ancient indeed and nooie, Out oe'
graded and impoverished Gy a series oi crimes
s,J foIiies. which had attained scandaious pub
I;ci,v the kinsman whom he succeeded had
died moor. and. but for merciful Judges, would
nave died upon the gallows. The young peer
had great intellectual powers, yet there was an
unsound part in his mind. He had naturally
generous anal tender heart; but his temper was
Wayward and irritable. lie had head when sta
tuarjes loved to copy, and foot, the deiorm'v
| Of which the begcars in the streets mimcHed -
DISTINGUISHED at once tY the strength aud weak
ness of his intellect, atitctiunate yet perVe rse,
poor lord, and handsome cripple, lie required,
| If ever man required. The hrmcst and The most
iudcious training. But, capricious'y as nature
had dealt with him, the relative to whom the othce
| of forming his character was in,rusted, was more
capricious slhl She passed from paroxysms OF
rage to paroxysms of fondness. At one time she
stifled him with her caresses-at another time
she nsulted his defOrmltv. lie came into the
world, and the world treated him as his mather
treated him-sometimes with Kindness, sometimes
with severity, never with justice. 1t INDUCED
him without discrimination, and punished MN
without discrimination. He was truly spoiled
child,--not merely the spoiled child OF his par,
ent. but the spoiled child of nature; the spoiled
child of fortune, the spoiled child of fame, the
spoiled child of society. His first poems were
received with contempt which, feeble as they
WERE they did not absolutely deserve. The po-
en- winch he published on his return from his ira
wells, was. on the other hand, eXtulleh far above
Its merit. At twenty four he found himself on
.he highest pinnacle of literary fame, with Scott.
Wordsworth, Souhev, and crowd OF other dis
tinguished writers beneath his feet. There IS
scarcely an instance III history OF SO sudden rise
to 80 dizzy an emnence.
Every thirs that could stimulate. and every
thing that could crafty the strongest propenslties
of our nature-the gaze OF hundred drawing
rooms, the acclamatuns of the whole nation, the
applause of applauded men. the love OF the !o'li,
est women-aIl this world, and all the glory OF
Int. were at once offered to young man TO whom
nature had given violent passions. and whom edu'
cation had never taught to control them lie
lived az many men live who have no similar ex-
cuses TO plead for their faults. But his country
men and his countrywomen would love hlm and
admire him. They were resolved to see ~ his
excuses nn the flash outbreak 9t that
lreligion; yet in religious circles his name was
mentioned with fondness, and in many religious
publications his works were censured with sinsu-
lar tenderness. He lampooned the prince regent;
vet he could not ALLEVIATE the tories. Every thing
it seemed, was to be forgiven to youth, rank and
genius.
Then came the reaction. Society, capricious
in its indignation as it had been caprlcous in its
fondness, flew into rage with its forward and
peted darling. He had been worshipped with
an irrational idolatory. He was prosecuted with
an irrational fury. Much has been written about
those unhappy domestic occurrences which de-
cided the fate of his life. Yet nothing is, nothing
ever vas, positively known to the public bu, this
that he quarrelled with his lady. and that she
refused TO live with him. There have been hints
in abundance, and shrugs and shakings of the
head and "WelI, well, we know" and "We
could an if we would, "and elf we list to speak,"
and .. There be that might an they list" But
we are not aware that there is before the world |
substantiated by credible, or even by tangible |
evidence, single fact indicating that Lord Byron
was more to blame than any other man who is on
bad terms with his wife The professional men |
whom Lady Byron consulted were undoubtedly |
of opinion that she ought not to live with her bus-
band. But it is to be remembered that they
formed that opinion without hearing both sides.
We do not say, we do not mean to inslnuate, that
Lady Byron was in any respect to blame. We
think that those who condemn her on The evidence
which is now before the public are as rash as those
who condemn her husband. We will not pro-
nounce any judgment; we cannot, even in our
own minds, form any judgment on transaction
which is 30 imperfectly known to US. 1t would
have been well If, at the time of the separation,
all those who knew as little about the matter then
as we know about it now, had shown that for
bearance. which, under such circumstances, is
but common justice.
The case of Lord Byron was hard. True Jen.
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