of supporting them; by what right does it censure him for ceasing to dwell under the same roof with a woman, who is to him, because he knows her, while others do not, an object of loathing?  Can anything be more monstrous, than for the public voice to compel individuals who dislike each other to continue their cohabitation?  This is at least the effect of its interfering with a relationship, of which it has no possible means of judging.  It does not indeed drag a man to a woman’s bed by physical force, but it does exert a moral force continually and effectively to accomplish the same purpose.  Nobody can escape this force, but those who are too high or those who are too low for public opinion to reach; or those hypocrites who are, before others, the loudest in their approbation of the empty and unmeaning forms of society, that they may securely indulge all their propensities in secret.”

In the course of the conversation, in which he is represented to have stated these opinions, he added what I have pleasure in quoting, because the sentiments are generous in respect to his wife, and strikingly characteristic of himself:—­

“Lady Byron has a liberal mind, particularly as to religious opinions:  and I wish when I married her that I had possessed the same command over myself that I now do.  Had I possessed a little more wisdom and more forbearance, we might have been happy.  I wished, when I was just married to have remained in the country, particularly till my pecuniary embarrassments were over.  I knew the society of London; I knew the characters of many who are called ladies, with whom Lady Byron would necessarily have to associate, and I dreaded her contact with them.  But I have too much of my mother about me to be dictated to; I like freedom from constraint; I hate artificial regulations:  my conduct has always been dictated by my own feelings, and Lady Byron was quite the creature of rules.  She was not permitted either to ride, or run, or walk, but as the physician prescribed.  She was not suffered to go out when I wished to go:  and then the old house was a mere ghost-house, I dreamed of ghosts and thought of them waking.  It was an existence I could not support.”  Here Lord Byron broke off abruptly, saying, “I hate to speak of my family affairs, though I have been compelled to talk nonsense concerning them to some of my butterfly visitors, glad on any terms to get rid of their importunities.  I long to be again on the mountains.  I am fond of solitude, and should never talk nonsense, if I always found plain men to talk to.”

CHAPTER XXX

Reflections on his domestic Verses—­Consideration of his Works—­“The Corsair”—­Probabilities of the Character and Incidents of the Story—­ On the Difference between poetical Invention and moral Experience:  illustrated by the Difference between the Genius of Shakespeare and that of Byron