amation, and that people in the world very rarely act on such
principles; then, no doubt, with his exquisite sensibility, and elevated
standard of ideal, he must have felt himself more disgusted than any one
else, and must have believed he had a right to despise the human race.
Especially would this have been the case after he had personally
suffered from cruel satire, from the conduct of his relative and
guardian, Lord Carlisle, from the lightness of a few women, and the
lukewarmness of some few friends. But, while owing to this fault in
education, many young men subjected to like trials become sensualists,
and others, convinced of the falsities that have been inculcated on
them, conclude there is no better system of morality than to seek after
place, power, and profit, and become voluntary instruments in the hands
of the world's oppressors, Lord Byron's soul revolted at it. Too noble
by nature to stoop, and confiding also in his genius, he became a poet
with a slight tinge of misanthropy in his mind, but that could never
reach unto his heart, that never modified his amiability in society, and
which at a later period, when experience of life made him reflect more
on the nature of his own sentiments and the weakness of humanity, became
transformed into a sweet philosophy, full of indulgence for every human
defect. This generous disposition is to be found at the base of all his
poems written in Italy.

Another reproach brought against Lord Byron is that he did not paint the
good side of human nature. People showed as much indignation at this as
if he had betrayed some secret, or calumniated some innocent person. A
wondrous susceptibility, assuredly, with regard to the imperfections of
our common nature, as tardy as strange. One would think, in reading the
reproaches addressed to Lord Byron, that those who made them had quite
forgotten how, from all time and in all languages, since man commented
on man, our poor human nature has not generally been treated with much
respect. Putting to one side moralists, and still more pessimists, have
not the Holy Scriptures and all the Fathers of the Church, used the most
mortifying language concerning the perversity and corruption of our
species? As regards complaints and avowals humiliating for our nature,
could there be any more eloquent than those of St. Augustine? Did not
Pascal almost wish man to understand that _he is an incomprehensible
monster_? Lord Byron would not have called