him from this visit, for reasons
previously cited,[157] had made the darkest prognostications regarding
its consequence; and though he could not shake Lord Byron's
determination, it is very probable that he may have upset his
imagination. Thus he was trying to show himself ready for every thing.
Such pleasantries are like the song of one who is alarmed in the dark.
Moreover, from his manner of judging human nature, and his lively sense
of the ridiculous, Lord Byron was well aware that a light tone is alone
admissible for speaking to others of a love they do not share, and more
especially when they disapprove of it. He felt that the gayety of Ovid
and the gallantry of Horace are better suited to indifferent people than
Petrarch's high-flown phrases and sentimentalities, or Werther's
despair. It was through this same nice perception of the sentiments
entertained by indifferent individuals that he sometimes adopted a
light, playful tone in conversation, or in his correspondence, when
speaking of friendship, devoted feelings of any kind, and a host of
sentiments very serious and deep within his own heart, but which he
believed less calculated to interest others. And if sometimes his
singular penetration of the human heart called forth mockery, it sprang
more frequently from seeing fine sentiments put forth in flagrant
contradiction with conduct, or morality looked upon as a mere thing of
outward decorum, speedily to be set aside, if once the actors were
removed from the eyes of the world. He would not grant his esteem to
fine sentiments expressed by writers who could be bribed; to the
promises of heroes who noisily enroll combatants, while themselves
remaining safe by their fireside; or to the generosity that displays
itself from a balcony. And, assuredly, he had a right to be particular
in his estimate of this latter virtue, which he himself always practiced
secretly, and in the shade. He would not consent to its being bartered,
nor that people should have the honor of it without any sacrifice on
their part. Thus he replied to Moore, who was in an ecstasy about the
generosity of Lord some one:--"I shall believe all that when you prove
to me that there is no advantage in openly helping a man like you." With
wonderful, and, I might almost say, supernatural perspicacity, Lord
Byron penetrated into the arcana of souls, and did not come out thence
with a very good opinion of what he had seen. But, kind as he was, he
did not lik