since Arnold placed Wordsworth
and Byron by anticipation on the same level at this century's end,
whereas Wordsworth stands now far higher. And the bitter disdain which
Sir. Swinburne has poured upon Byron's verse and character, though
tempered by acknowledgment of his strength and cleverness, and by
approbation of his political views, excites some indignation and a
sympathetic reaction in his favour. One can imagine the ghost of Byron
rebuking his critic with the words of the Miltonic Satan, 'Ye knew me
once no mate For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar'; for in
his masculine defiant attitude and daring flights the elder poet
overtops and looks down upon the fine musical artist of our own day.

Some of the causes which have combined to lower Byron's popularity are
not far to seek. The change of times, circumstance, and taste has been
adverse to him. The political school which he so ardently represented
has done its work; the Tory statesmen of the Metternich and
Castlereagh type, who laid heavy hands upon nations striving for light
and liberty, have gone down to their own place; the period of stifling
repression has long ended in Europe. Italy and Greece are free, the
lofty appeals to classic heroism are out of date, and such fiery
high-swelling trumpet notes as

'Yet, Freedom! yet, thy banner, torn, but flying,
Streams like a thunderstorm _against_ the wind,'

fall upon cold and fastidious ears. 'The day will come,' said Mazzini
in after-years, 'when the democracy will acknowledge its debt to
Byron;' but the demos is notoriously ungrateful, and the subject races
have now won their independence. The shadow of discouragement and
weariness which passed over sensitive minds at the beginning of this
century, a period of political disillusion, has long been swept away
by the prosperity and sanguine activities of the Victorian era; and
the literary style has changed with the times. Melancholy moods,
attitudes of scornful despair, tales of fierce love and bloody revenge
are strange and improbable to readers who delight in situations and
emotions with which they are familiar, who demand exactitude in detail
and correct versification; while sweet harmonies, perfection of metre,
middle-class pastorals, and a blameless moral tone came in with
Tennyson. In short, many of the qualities which enchanted Byron's own
generation have disenchanted our own, both in his works and his life;
for when Macaulay wrote in 183