Part 34 (1/2)
To add any thing more to show how totally Byron was free from all sentiments of an envious nature, would be to exhaust the subject, and to abuse the reader's patience. This absence of envy in him shows itself so clearly in all his sayings and doings, that it appears to be impossible to doubt it, and yet he has not been spared even such a calumny! I do not allude to the French critics, who neither knew the man nor the author, and whose systematic attacks have no value; but I allude to a certain article in the ”London Magazine,” which appeared shortly before his death, under the t.i.tle of ”Personal Character of Lord Byron,” and which caused some sensation because it appeared to have been written by some one who had known Byron intimately. It was all the more perfidious because it gave an appearance of truth to a great many falsehoods, derived from the truth with which these falsehoods were mixed. It was the work of one who had gone to Greece, there to play a great part, but who, having failed in his attempt and exposed himself to the laughter of his friends, felt a kind of jealousy for Byron's success in that line, and revenged himself by saying, among other things, ”that it was dangerous for Byron's friends to rise in the world, if they preferred his friends.h.i.+p to their glory, because, as soon as they arrived at a certain pre-eminence, he was sure to hate them.”
Such a calumny exasperated Byron's real friends, and among these Count Gamba, who hastened to reply to it, by publis.h.i.+ng an interesting book, precious from its veracity, and which does equal credit to Byron and to the young man honored with his friends.h.i.+p. After a.n.a.lyzing the anonymous article, Count Gamba goes on to say: ”My own opinion is just the contrary to that of the writer in the magazine. I think he prided himself on the successes of his friends, and cited them as a proof of discernment in the choice of some of his companions. This I know, that of envy he had not the least spark in his whole disposition: he had strong antipathies, certainly, to one or two individuals; but I have always understood, from those most likely to know, that he never broke with any of the friends of his youth, and that his earliest attachments were also his last.”
It may be remarked that Byron's popularity made it difficult for him to indulge sentiments of envy. But without referring to the unstable character of popularity, was not his own attacked by the jealousy of those who wished to pull him down from the pedestal of fame, to which they hoped themselves to rise? Did he not think, some years before his death, that his popularity was wavering, and that his rivals would profit by it? Was he less pleased at the success of his friends? Does not all he said, and all he did, prove that where he blamed he did so unwillingly, from a sense of justice and truth; but that when he praised, he did so to satisfy a desire of his heart?
We have dwelt at considerable length upon this subject, because we believe that a total absence of envy is so rare among poets, and so conspicuous in Lord Byron, that we can take it to be the criterion of his n.o.bility of soul. We can sum up, therefore, all we have said, by declaring, that if Byron has been envied by all his enemies, and even his friends, with, perhaps, the exception of Sh.e.l.ley, and has not himself envied one, though he suffered personally from the consequences of their jealousy, it is because the great kindness of his nature made him the least envious of men.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 28: Moore, Letter 261.]
[Footnote 29: Venice, 1817.]
[Footnote 30: Why has the pa.s.sage in the first edition of Stendhall's works, which treats in enthusiastic terms of Byron's genius, been cut out of the subsequent editions?]
[Footnote 31: Was this a little irony? I think so, for it was believed that jealousy was the weak point of Rogers.]
[Footnote 32: Moore, Letter 435.]
[Footnote 33: Moore, Letter 422.]
CHAPTER IX.
BENEVOLENCE AND KINDNESS OF LORD BYRON.
BENEVOLENCE.
The benevolence of Byron's character const.i.tutes the princ.i.p.al characteristic of his nature, and was particularly remarkable from its power. All the good qualities in Byron do not show the same force in the same degree. In all the sentiments which we have a.n.a.lyzed and given in proof of his goodness, though each may be very strong, and even capable of inspiring him with the greatest sacrifice, yet one might find in each that personal element, inherent in different degrees to our purest and most generous affections, since the impulse which dictates them is evidently based upon a desire to be satisfied with ourselves. The same thing might be said of his benevolence, had it been only the result of habit: but if it had been this, if it had been intermittent, and of that kind which does not exclude occasional harshness and even cruelty, I would not venture to present it to the reader as a proof of Byron's goodness.
His benevolence had nothing personal in its elements. It was a kind of universal and habitual charity, which gives without hope of return, which is more occupied with the good of others than with its own, and which is called for only by the instinctive desire to alleviate the sufferings of others. If such a quality has no right to be called a virtue, it nevertheless imprints upon the man who possesses it an ineffaceable character of greatness.
There was not a single moment in his life in which it did not reveal itself in the most touching actions. We have seen how neither happiness nor misfortune could alter it.
As a child, he went one day to bathe with a little school-fellow in the Don, in Scotland, and having but one very small Shetland pony between them, each one walked and rode alternately. When they reached the bridge, at a point where the river becomes sombre and romantic, Byron, who was on foot, recollected a legendary prophecy, which says:--
”Brig o' Balgounie, black's your wa': Wi' a wife's ae son and a mare's ae foal Doun ye shall fa'!”
Little Byron stopped his companion, asked him if he remembered the prediction, and declared that as the pony might very well be ”a mare's ae foal,” he intended to cross first, for although both only sons, his mother alone would mourn him, while the death of his friend, whose father and mother were both alive, would cause a twofold grief.[34]
As a stripling, he saw at Southwell a poor woman sally mournfully from a shop, because the Bible she wished to purchase costs more money than she possesses. Byron hastens to buy it, and, full of joy, runs after the poor creature to give it to her. As a young man, at an age when the effervescence and giddiness of youth forget many things, he never forgot that to seduce a young girl is a crime. Then, as ever, he was less the seducer than the seduced.
Moore tells us that Byron was so keenly sensitive to the pleasure or pain of those with whom he lived, that while in his imaginary realms he defied the universe, in real life a frown or a smile could overcome him.
Proud, energetic, independent, intrepid, benevolence alone rendered Lord Byron so flexible, patient, and docile to the remonstrances or reproaches of those who loved him, and to whom he allowed friendly motives, that he often sacrificed his own talent to this genial and kindly sentiment. The Rev. Mr. Beecher, disapproving as too free one of the poems he had just published at the age of seventeen, in his first edition of the ”Hours of Idleness,” Lord Byron _withdrew_ and _burnt_ the whole edition. At the solicitation of Dallas and Gifford he suppresses, in the second canto of ”Childe Harold,” the very stanzas he preferred to all the rest. Madame G----, grieved at the persecution drawn down on him by the first canto of ”Don Juan,” begs him to discontinue the poem, and he ceased to write it.
At the request of Madame de Stael, he consented, in spite of his great disinclination, to attempt a reconciliation with Lady Byron.
The ”Curse of Minerva,” a poem written in Greece, while he was still painfully impressed by the artistic piracies of Lord Elgin in the ”Parthenon,” was in the press and on the eve of publication; but Lord Elgin's friends reminded him of the pain it would inflict on him and on his family, and the poem was sacrificed. No one ever bore more generously than he with reproaches made with good-will and kindness.
This amiable disposition, observed in Greece by Mr. Finlay, led him to say that it amazed him. As regards Lord Byron's tenderness toward his friends, it was always so great and constant, that we have thought it right to devote a long article to it. We will, however, quote as another instance of the delicacy of his friends.h.i.+p and his fear of offending his friends, or of giving them pain, a letter which Moore also cites as a proof of his extreme sensitiveness in this respect.