ct. I now believe that there is a great deal of unreality in
those sentiments to which the charm of his verses lent an
appearance of truth and depth; in fact, his poetical feelings will
sometimes stand the test of sober reflection quite as little as his
grammar will that of a severe application of the rules of syntax.
He has written immensely for mere effect, but all young people read
him, and young people are not apt to analyze closely what they feel
strongly, and, judging by my own experience, I should think Byron
had done more mischief than one would like to be answerable for.
When I said this the other day to my mother, she replied by
referring to his "Don Juan," supposing that I alluded to his
profligacy; but it is not "Don Juan" only or chiefly that I think
so mischievous, but "Manfred," "Cain," "Lucifer," "Childe Harold,"
and through them all Byron's own spirit--the despondent, defiant,
questioning, murmuring, bitter, proud spirit, that acts powerfully
and dangerously on young brains and throws poison into their
natural fermentation.

Since you say that my perpetual quotation of that stupid song, "Old
Wilson is Dead," worries you, I will renounce my delight in teasing
you with it. The love of teasing is, of course, only a base form of
the love of power. Mr. Harness and I had a long discussion the
other night about the Cenci; he maintains your opinion, that the
wicked old nobleman was absolutely mad; but I argued the point
stoutly for his sanity, and very nearly fell into the fire with
dismay when I was obliged to confess that if he was not mad, then
his actuating motive was simply _the love of power_. Do you know
that that play was sent over by Shelley to England with a view to
Miss O'Neill acting Beatrice Cenci? If it were ever possible that
the piece could be acted, I should think an audience might be half
killed with the horror of that entrance of Beatrice when she
describes the marble pavement sliding from beneath her feet.

Did my mother tell you in her note that Milman was at the play the
other night, and said I had made Bianca exactly what he intended? I
wish he would write another tragedy. I think perhaps he will, from
something Murray said the other day. That eminent publisher still
has my MSS. in his possession, but you know I can