those
advantages and attractions, by which the world is, in general, dazzled
and captivated. The effect was, accordingly, electric;--his fame had not
to wait for any of the ordinary gradations, but seemed to spring up,
like the palace of a fairy tale, in a night. As he himself briefly
described it in his memoranda,--"I awoke one morning and found myself
famous." The first edition of his work was disposed of instantly; and,
as the echoes of its reputation multiplied on all sides, "Childe Harold"
and "Lord Byron" became the theme of every tongue. At his door, most of
the leading names of the day presented themselves,--some of them persons
whom he had much wronged in his Satire, but who now forgot their
resentment in generous admiration. From morning till night the most
flattering testimonies of his success crowded his table,--from the grave
tributes of the statesman and the philosopher down to (what flattered
him still more) the romantic billet of some _incognita,_ or the pressing
note of invitation from some fair leader of fashion; and, in place of
the desert which London had been to him but a few weeks before, he now
not only saw the whole splendid interior of High Life thrown open to
receive him, but found himself, among its illustrious crowds, the most
distinguished object.

The copyright of the poem, which was purchased by Mr. Murray for
600_l._, he presented, in the most delicate and unostentatious manner,
to Mr. Dallas[46], saying, at the same time, that he "never would
receive money for his writings;"--a resolution, the mixed result of
generosity and pride, which he afterwards wisely abandoned, though borne
out by the example of Swift[47] and Voltaire, the latter of whom gave
away most of his copyrights to Prault and other booksellers, and
received books, not money, for those he disposed of otherwise. To his
young friend, Mr. Harness, it had been his intention, at first, to
dedicate the work, but, on further consideration, he relinquished his
design; and in a letter to that gentleman (which, with some others, is
unfortunately lost) alleged, as his reason for this change, the
prejudice which, he foresaw, some parts of the poem would raise against
himself, and his fear lest, by any possibility, a share of the odium
might so far extend itself to his friend, as to injure him in the
profession to which he was about to devote himself.

Not long after the publication of Childe Harold, the noble author paid
me a visit,