ruth to a great many falsehoods,
derived from the truth with which these falsehoods were mixed. It was
the work of one who had gone to Greece, there to play a great part, but
who, having failed in his attempt and exposed himself to the laughter of
his friends, felt a kind of jealousy for Byron's success in that line,
and revenged himself by saying, among other things, "that it was
dangerous for Byron's friends to rise in the world, if they preferred
his friendship to their glory, because, as soon as they arrived at a
certain pre-eminence, he was sure to hate them."

Such a calumny exasperated Byron's real friends, and among these Count
Gamba, who hastened to reply to it, by publishing an interesting book,
precious from its veracity, and which does equal credit to Byron and to
the young man honored with his friendship. After analyzing the
anonymous article, Count Gamba goes on to say: "My own opinion is just
the contrary to that of the writer in the magazine. I think he prided
himself on the successes of his friends, and cited them as a proof of
discernment in the choice of some of his companions. This I know, that
of envy he had not the least spark in his whole disposition: he had
strong antipathies, certainly, to one or two individuals; but I have
always understood, from those most likely to know, that he never broke
with any of the friends of his youth, and that his earliest attachments
were also his last."

It may be remarked that Byron's popularity made it difficult for him to
indulge sentiments of envy. But without referring to the unstable
character of popularity, was not his own attacked by the jealousy of
those who wished to pull him down from the pedestal of fame, to which
they hoped themselves to rise? Did he not think, some years before his
death, that his popularity was wavering, and that his rivals would
profit by it? Was he less pleased at the success of his friends? Does
not all he said, and all he did, prove that where he blamed he did so
unwillingly, from a sense of justice and truth; but that when he
praised, he did so to satisfy a desire of his heart?

We have dwelt at considerable length upon this subject, because we
believe that a total absence of envy is so rare among poets, and so
conspicuous in Lord Byron, that we can take it to be the criterion of
his nobility of soul. We can sum up, therefore, all we have said, by
declaring, that if Byron has been envied by all his enemies, and even
his frie