The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-03-24

present feelings hardly render me competent
iudge.n -, ., "cor,rre ,, trans.
| lated into Italian, fell under his nonce at
| Rayenna In the same language, Wnlcn no Que
then about him could reau, ue agta e vo gu,
| nonfed out it's fullness in words OF noDe melting
| Tenderness. concluded thus;-"Thnk OF me
| when Alps and sea shalt separate us; 0Ut hdt
| ,rjH aepe, come 10 pass, Un'eSs you so SolH a."
| II was not willed. and therefore the separation
| did not take place. But, alas! the day arrived
| when he was SO entargled in multiplicity of
! COMPLICATIONS and honor smoke SO loudly that
! both sides we're forced to will it.
| Whoever should consider this departure the
result of Inconsistency, Is incapable TO form an
estimate OF his great soul. His Affection, that
| had lasted for years, admitted no longer OF any
uneasiness, for it was brought into complete
harmony with that of her he loved. Naturally
his heart underwent the transformation pro-
duced by time. His affection was gradually
acquiring the sweetness of unChanging frend-
ship, without losing the charm apper;aining to
ardor of passion. The sacrifice entailed by this
departure was IN proportion to these senti.
ments. "Often,n says M, "durlng the
passage We saw his eyes filed with tears.n
The sadness described by Mr. Barry of his last
visit to Albano has been seen. These tears and
this sadness betray the extent OF this sublime
sacrifice! And then, when once arrived in
Greece, although determined to brave all the
storms gathering above his head, he wrote un-
ceaslngly to Madame c., with that ease aud
simplicity which not only forbade any exaggera-
tion OF sentiment, but even made HIM restrain
by the circumstances then surrounding her.
II shall fulfil the object of my mission from
the committee, and then return to Italy.
Pray be as cheerful and tranquil as you
can, and be assured that there is nothing here
that can excite anything but wish to be with
you again, though we are very Kindly treated
by the English here of all descriptions"
September 11.-You may be sure that the
moment can join you again will be as welcome
to me as at any period OF our acquaintance.
There is nothing very attractive mere TO occupy
u,u mt hot honor nd noii
demand that l should serve the Greek cause.
| wish that this cause, as we'll as the affairs of
Spain, were favoraby settled, that l might
return to Italy and relate all my adventures to
you"
| loved. 1t would be worth inquiry how many
men and how many writers have carried their
| ideal of constancy into their own life TO higher
| degree than Lord Byron. NY opinion is that
| if, the same circumstances given, the number
| went little beyond one, we might consider
| the result very satisfactory.
After having seen that Lord Byron was un-
changeable in great principles and ideas, as
soon as his mind was convinced, and that he
was constant to all the true sentiments of his
heart, it still remains 10 be shown whether he
was equally so In his tastes and habits.
1t may be said OF most men that they have
no character, because they often vary in taste,
and without even perceiVing il. That could not
be asserted of Lord Byron, although sometimes,
according to his seltaccUsing custom, he de-
clared himself to be inconstant.
v,
remarkably steadlast in his tastes. The nature
OF his preferences, and the conclusions to be
drawn from them. will form the subject of
another chapter. We shall only speak of them
here as relating to constancy.
I'VE shall often have OCCASION says Moore,
'to remark the fidelity to early habits and
tastes which distinguished Lord Byron"
Moore then observes the extraordinary con-
"tancy Lord Byron showed in clinging to all
=. ~-sssicns of youth; and he adduces as a
nredt rne tho caro- With which ne preserved the
notes and letters wr,.en by his i%Vorite com, com.
rades at school, even when They were yo~-.-ei
than himself. These letters he enriched with
dates and notes, after years OF long interval,
while very few Of his childish illusions have
been kept by the opposite parties, Moore also
notes several o..ancr features OF this constaucy,
which sIe continued to practise throughout life.
For instance, his punctuality in answering
letters Immediately, despite his distaste for
epistolary effusions; and his, love tor SIMPLE
music, such as that OF the ballads that used to
attract him at sixteen to Miss Piggott's saloon.
1t was partly this same taste that made him
enjoy 60 much, at twenty-six, the evenings he
months before his marriage, the last. OF his
London lifel, when Moore would sing his favor,
ite songs, bringing tears to Byron's eyes; ana
it was this same taste that subsequently drew
him TO the piano at which Madame c. sat
at Ravenna, Pisa Genoa; and which, when she
played or sung MOzayts and Rossini's tayorite
motets, made him say that he no longer loved
any other music but hers.
What he had once loved never tired hin.
Memory was to him like an euchanter's wand,
throwing some charm into objects which
in themselves possessed none. He loved the
land where he had loved, however naturally
! unairaetive it might be; witness Rave ma,
| and Italy in general.
'Pos session of what truly love,n said he
! in the very rare moments when he did him
self justice "does not cloy me.n He loved the
mountains of Greece, because they recalled
those OF Scotland; he would have loved other
mountains because they recalled those of
| Greece.
A few months before his death he said, in
his charming poem The Island"-
'Lo have roam'd through lands which are not
| Revered Parnassus, and pehe, the steep
Jove's Ida and Olympus crown the deep;
Their Z pature held me in their thrilling thraII;
| The infant rapture still survived the boy,
Mix Celtic memories with the Phryglan mount.
Ara Highland Inns with Castalies clear tount.
| Forgive me, Homers universal shade!
forgive me, Pheous! that my fancy strsy'd;
The north ard nature taught me TO assre ,,. >,
Your scenes sublime, from those beloved before"
He would love place of abode because he
had loved when IN 1t. The same with regard
to a dwelling, walk, a melody, a perfume, q
FORM and even q dish-he who cared so little
for any sort of food. His childish impressions,
his readings at that age had a great deal to do
with his cnolce of poetic subjects afterwards
and we find them again reproduced even in
his last dramatic work. Werner written in
such fine moral sense, is the result of the
"Captel bury Tale" read in childhood. Never
was man more constant in his habits and
tastes than he; and, indeed 1t required that
indehnable charm of soul he possessed, and
which pervaded his whole being, to prevent
monotony from perVerting this quality into
fault.
Why, then, have his biographers talked so
much OF MS mobility, If it were not to make