de
like a misanthrope, if he loved it solely as a means, and not as an end,
so that we may even say it was with him an antidote to misanthropy, can
we equally give proof of his sociability? To clear up this point, we
have only to glance at his whole life. For the sake of avoiding
repetition, let us pass over his childhood, so full of tenderness, and
ardor for youthful pastimes; his boyhood, all devoted to feelings
affectionate and passionate; his university life, where sociability
seemed to predominate over regular study; the vacations, when it was
such pleasure to act plays, and he was the life of amateur theatres,--a
time that has left behind it such an enthusiastic memory of him, that
when Moore, some years after Lord Byron's death, went to obtain
information about it from the amiable Pigott family, not one member
could be found to admit that Lord Byron _had the smallest defect_. Let
us also pass over his sojourn at Newstead, when his sociability and
gayety appear even to have been too noisy; and let us arrive at that
period of his life when he began to be called a misanthrope, because he
gave himself that appellation, because real sorrows had cast a shade
over his life, and because, wishing to devote himself to graver things,
his object was to withdraw from the society of gay, noisy companions,
and then to mature his mind in distant travel. He left his native land,
but in company with his friend Hobhouse, a man distinguished for his
intelligence, and who, instead of testifying to his fellow-traveller's
misanthropy, bears witness, on the contrary, to his amiable, sociable
disposition.

When this friend was obliged to take leave of him in Greece, and return
to England, Lord Byron frequented the society of pleasant persons like
Lord Sligo, Mr. Bruce, and Lady Hester Stanhope, whom he met at Athens,
alleviating his studious solitude by intercourse with them.

When he also returned to England, after two years of absence, great
misfortunes overwhelmed him. He lost successively his mother, dear
friends, and other loved ones. Not to sink beneath these accumulated
blows, and mistrusting his own strength, he called in to aid him the
society of his friends.

"My dear Scroope," wrote he, "if you have an instant, come and join me,
I entreat you. I want a friend; I am in utter desolation. Come and see
me; let me enjoy as long as I can the company of those friends that yet
remain."

Some time after, having attained the highes