’The conclusion at which we arrive is, that there is no proof whatever that Lord Byron was guilty of any act that need have caused a separation, or prevented a re-union, and that the imputations upon him rest on the vaguest conjecture; that whatever real or fancied wrongs Lady Byron may have endured are shrouded in an impenetrable mist of her own creation,—­a poisonous miasma in which she enveloped the character of her husband, raised by her breath, and which her breath only could have dispersed.

      “She dies and makes no sign.  O God! forgive her."’

As we have been obliged to review accusations on Lady Byron founded on old Greek tragedy, so now we are forced to abridge a passage from a modern conversations-lexicon, that we may understand what sort of comparisons are deemed in good taste in a conservative English review, when speaking of ladies of rank in their graves.

Under the article ‘Brinvilliers,’ we find as follows:—­

MARGUERITE D’AUBRAI, MARCHIONESS OF BRINVILLIERS.—­The singular atrocity of this woman gives her a sort of infamous claim to notice.  She was born in Paris in 1651; being daughter of D’Aubrai, lieutenant- civil of Paris, who married her to the Marquis of Brinvilliers.  Although possessed of attractions to captivate lovers, she was for some time much attached to her husband, but at length became madly in love with a Gascon officer.  Her father imprisoned the officer in the Bastille; and, while there, he learned the art of compounding subtle and most mortal poisons; and, when he was released, he taught it to the lady, who exercised it with such success, that, in one year, her father, sister, and two brothers became her victims.  She professed the utmost tenderness for her victims, and nursed them assiduously.  On her father she is said to have made eight attempts before she succeeded.  She was very religious, and devoted to works of charity; and visited the hospitals a great deal, where it is said she tried her poisons on the sick.’

People have made loud outcries lately, both in America and England, about violating the repose of the dead.  We should like to know what they call this.  Is this, then, what they mean by respecting the dead?

Let any man imagine a leading review coming out with language equally brutal about his own mother, or any dear and revered friend.

Men of America, men of England, what do you think of this?

When Lady Byron was publicly branded with the names of the foulest ancient and foulest modern assassins, and Lord Byron’s mistress was publicly taken by the hand, and encouraged to go on and prosper in her slanders, by one of the oldest and most influential British reviews, what was said and what was done in England?

That is a question we should be glad to have answered.  Nothing was done that ever reached us across the water.

And why was nothing done?  Is this language of a kind to be passed over in silence?