amused. But with all his great and noble qualities was it to be
expected that Lord Byron would fall into the doctrines proffered by
pantheists? Doctrines rejected by reason, which wound the heart, are
opposed to the most imperative necessities of our nature, and only bring
desolation to our minds.

Lord Byron had examined every kind and species of philosophy by the
light of common sense, and by the instinct of his genius: the result had
been to make him compassionate toward the vain weaknesses of the human
understanding, and to convince him that all systems which have
hypothesis as groundwork are illusions, and consequently likely to
perish with their authors.

Pantheism in particular was odious to him, and he esteemed it to be the
greatest of absurdities. He made no difference between the Pantheism
"absolute," which mixes up that which is infinite with that which is
finite, and that which struggles in vain to keep clear of Atheism.

In an age like ours, when the common tendency is of a materialistic
character, such as almost to defy the power of man, mysticism has little
or no _locus standi_. Shelley's opinions, on account of their appearance
of spiritualism, were most likely of any to interest Byron; but, founded
as they are upon fancy, could they please him? Could he possibly consent
to lose his individuality, deny his own freedom of will, all
responsibility of action, and hence all his privileges, his future
existence, and all principles of morality? Could he possibly admit that
the doctrine which prescribed these sacrifices was better than any
other? Even with the best intentions, could any of the essential, moral,
and holy principles of nature be introduced into such a system? Byron
could not but condemn it, and he attributed all Shelley's views to the
aberrations of a mind which is happier when it dreams than when it
denies.

Here, then, was the cause of his being inaccessible to Shelley's
arguments. He used sometimes to exclaim, "Why Shelley appears to me to
be mad with his metaphysics." This he one day repeated to Count Gamba at
Pisa, as Shelley walked out and he came in. "We have been discussing
metaphysics," said he: "what trash in all these systems! Say what they
will, mystery for mystery, I still find that of the Creation the most
reasonable of any."

He made no disguise of the difficulties which he found in admitting the
doctrine of a God, Creator of the world, and entirely distinct from it;
but he