agree to and in—admiration. Swift says 'no wise man ever married;' but, for a fool, I think it the most ambrosial of all possible future states. I still think one ought to marry upon lease; but am very sure I should renew mine at the expiration, though next term were for ninety and nine years. : Upon this dreary coast, we have nothing but county meetings and shipwrecks and I have this day dined upon fish, which probably dined upon the crews of several colliers lost in the late gales. But I saw the sea once more in all the glories of surf and foam,— almost equal to the Bay of Biscay, and the interesting white squalls and short seas of Archipelago memory. My papa, Sir Ralpho, hath recently made a speech at a Durham tax-meeting; and not only at Durham, but here, several times since after dinner. He is now, I believe, speaking it to himself (I left him in the middle) over various decanters, which can neither interrupt him nor fall asleep,-as might possibly have been the case with some of his audience.-Seaham, Stockton-upon-Tees, Feb. 2, 1815. THE BREACH WITH LADY BYRON. or I am at war Iwith all the world and his wife; rather, "all the world and my wife" are at war with me, and have not yet crushed me,-whatever they may do. I don't know that in the course of a hair-breadth existence I was ever, at home or abroad, in a situation so completely uprooting of present pleasure, or rational hope for the future, as this same. I say this, because I think so, and feel it. But I shall not sink under it the more for that mode of considering the question-I have made up my mind. I have not the most distant idea what I am going to do myself-or with myself— THE BREACH WITH LADY BYRON. 67 or where or what. I had, a few weeks ago, some things to say that would have made you laugh; but they tell me now that I must not laugh, and so I have been very serious-and am. My little girl is in the country, and, they tell me, is a very fine child, and now nearly three months old. Lady Noel (my mother-inlaw, or, rather, at law) is at present overlooking it. Her daughter (Miss Milbanke that was) is, I believe, in London with her father. A Mrs. C. (now a kind of housekeeper and spy of Lady N.'s), who, in her better days, was a washerwoman, is supposed to be-by the learned-very much the occult cause of our late domestic discrepancies. In all this business, I am the sorriest for Sir Ralph. He and I are equally punished, though magis pares quam similes in our affliction. Yet it is hard for both to suffer for the fault of one, and so it is--I shall be separated from my wife; he will retain his.-To Mr. Moore, Feb. 29, 1816. I must set you right in one point. The fault was not-no, nor even the misfortune-in my "choice " (unless in choosing at all)-for I do not believe—and I must say it, in the very dregs of all this bitter business -that there ever was a better, or even a brighter, a kinder, or a more amiable and agreeable being than Lady B. I never had, nor can have, any reproach to make her, while with me. Where there is blame, it belongs to myself, and, if I cannot redeem, I must bear it. Her nearest relatives are a -my circumstances have been and are in a state of great confusion *-my health has been a good deal disordered, and my mind ill at ease for a considerable period. Such are the causes (I do not name them as excuses) which have * There had been eight or nine executions in his house within the twelvemonth. frequently driven me into excess, and disqualified my temper for comfort. Something also may be attributed to the strange and desultory habits which, becoming my own master at an early age, and scrambling about, over and through the world, may have induced. I still, however, think that, if I had a fair chance, by being placed in even a tolerable situation, I might have gone on fairly. But that seems hopeless, — and there is nothing more to be said. At present-except my health, which is better (it is odd, but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits, and sets me up for the time)-I have to battle with all kinds of unpleasantnesses, including private and pecuniary difficulties, &c. &c. It is nothing to bear the privations of adversity, or, more properly, ill fortune; but my pride recoils from its indignities. However, I have no quarrel with that same pride, which will, I think, buckler me through everything. If my heart could have been broken, it would have been so years ago, and by events more afflicting than these.-To Mr. Moore, March 8, 1816. THE HISTORY OF THE SEPARATION. A few hours afterwards we were very good friends; and a few days after she set out for Aragon, with my son, on a visit to her father and mother. I did not accompany her immediately, having been in Aragon before, but was to join the family in their Moorish château within a few weeks. During her journey, I received a very affectionate letter from Donna Josepha, apprising me of the welfare of herself and my son. On her arrival at the château, I received another, still more affectionate, pressing me, in very fond, and rather foolish terms, to join her immediately. As I was THE HISTORY OF THE SEPARATION. 69 preparing to set out from Seville, I received a thirdthis was from her father, Don José di Cardozo, who requested me, in the politest manner, to dissolve my marriage. I answered him with equal politeness, that I would do no such thing. A fourth letter arrived— it was from Donna Josepha, in which she informed me that her father's letter was written by her particular desire. I requested the reason by return of post: she replied, by express, that as reason had nothing to do with the matter, it was unnecessary to give any-but that she was an injured and excellent woman. I then inquired why she had written to me the two preceding affectionate letters, requesting me to come to Aragon. She answered, that was because she believed me out of my senses-that, being unfit to take care of myself, I had only to set out on this journey alone, and, making my way without difficulty to Don José di Cardozo's, "I should there have found the tenderest of wives anda strait waistcoat.* I had nothing to reply to this piece of affection, but a reiteration of my request for some light upon the subject. I was answered, that they would only be related to the Inquisition. In the * I was surprised one day by a Doctor (Dr. Baillie) and a Lawyer (Dr. Lushington) almost forcing themselves, at the same time, into my room. I did not know till afterwards the real object of their visit. I thought their questions singular, frivolous, and somewhat importunate, if not impertinent: but what should I have thought, if I had known that they were sent to provide proofs of my insanity? I have no doubt that my answers to these emissaries were not very rational or consistent, for my imagination was heated with other things. But Dr. Baillie could not conscientiously make me out a certificate for Bedlam; and perhaps the Lawyer gave a more favourable report to his employers. I do not, however, tax Lady Byron with this transaction; probably she was not privy to it. She was the tool of others. Her mother always detested me, and had not even the decency to conceal it in her house.-Lord Byron. Lady Byron would never reveal to her husband the grounds of her dissatisfaction, and would only offer him the alternative of separating without an explanation, or of a suit in Doctors' Commons. mean time, our domestic discrepancy had become a public topic of discussion; and the world, which always decides justly, not only in Aragon but in Andalusia, determined that I was not only to blame, but that all Spain could produce nobody so blameable. My case was supposed to comprise all the crimes which could, and several which could not, be committed; and little less than an auto-da-fé was anticipated as the result. But let no man say that we are abandoned by our friends in adversity-it was just the reverse. Mine thronged around me to condemn, advise, and console me with their disapprobation. They told me all that was, would, or could be said on the subject. They shook their heads-they exhorted me-deplored me, with tears in their eyes, and-went to dinner.-From a Novel commenced by Lord Byron. FEELINGS OF LORD BYRON ON HIS SEPARATION AFTER HE HAD LEFT ENGLAND FOR SWITZERLAND. Passed whole woods of withered pines, all withered ; trunks stripped and barkless, branches lifeless; done by a single winter,—their appearance reminded me of me and my family.-Journal, Sept. 23, 1816. In the weather for this Swiss tour (of 13 days), I have been very fortunate-fortunate in a companion (Mr. H.)—fortunate in our prospects, and exempt from even the little petty accidents and delays which often render journeys in a less wild country disappointing. I was disposed to be pleased. I am a lover of nature and an admirer of beauty. I can bear fatigue and welcome privation, and have seen some of the noblest views in the world. But in all this-the recollection of bitterness, and more especially of recent and more |