much alarmed. We were followed all day by this vessel, and toward
evening, it seemed so ready for action that we no longer doubted being
attacked. However a breeze arose, and darkness came on soon after,
whereupon we lost sight of it. Lord Byron, while the danger lasted,
remained perfectly calm, giving his orders with the greatest tranquility
and reflection."[77]

And Lord Harrington, then Colonel Stanhope, says himself, in his Essay
on Lord Byron:--

"Lord Byron was the _beau ideal_ of chivalry. It might have lowered him
in the esteem of wise men, if he had not given such extraordinary proofs
of the noblest courage.

"Even at moments of the greatest danger, Lord Byron _contemplated death
with philosophical calm_. For instance, at the moment of returning from
the alarming attack which had surprised him in my room (at Missolonghi),
he immediately asked, with the most perfect self-possession, whether his
life were in danger, as, in that case, he required the doctor to tell
him so, _for he was not afraid of death_.

"Shortly after that frightful convulsion, when, weakened by loss of
blood, he was lying on his bed of suffering, with his nervous system
completely shaken, a band of mutinous Suliotes, in their splendid dirty
costumes, burst suddenly into his room, brandishing their weapons, and
loudly demanding their savage rights. Lord Byron, as if electrified by
the unexpected act, appeared to have recovered his health, and, the more
the Suliotes cried out and threatened, the more _his cool courage
triumphed_. _The scene was really sublime._"[78]

And Count Gamba, in his interesting narrative of "Lord Byron's Last
Journey into Greece," adds:--

"It is impossible to do justice to the coolness and magnanimity Lord
Byron showed on all great occasions. Under ordinary circumstances he was
irritable, but the sight of danger calmed him instantly, restoring the
free exercise of all the faculties of his noble nature. A man _more
indomitable, or firmer in the hour of danger than Lord Byron was, never
existed_."[79]

But enough of these proofs, which, perhaps, say nothing new to the
reader. Nevertheless, as they may call up again the pleasure ever
afforded by the spectacle of great moral beauty, let us further add--the
better to set forth the nature of Lord Byron's wonderful intrepidity in
face of danger--that his energetic soul loved to contemplate those
sublime things in Nature that are usually endured with terror. Tempests,