cast of his own mind,) “I never knew one, except Lord Byron and Mr. Gordon, that seemed to have justly estimated their character.  All came expecting to find the Peloponnesus filled with Plutarch’s men, and all returned thinking the inhabitants of Newgate more moral.  Lord Byron judged them fairly:  he knew that half-civilised men are full of vices, and that great allowance must be made for emancipated slaves.  He, therefore, proceeded, bridle in hand, not thinking them good, but hoping to make them better."[1]

[Footnote 1:  A similar tribute was paid to him by Count Delladecima, a gentleman of some literary acquirements, of whom he saw a good deal at Cephalonia, and to whom he was attracted by that sympathy which never failed to incline him towards those who laboured, like himself, under any personal defects.  “Of all the men,” said this gentleman, “whom I have had an opportunity of conversing with, on the means of establishing the independence of Greece, and regenerating the character of the natives, Lord Byron appears to entertain the most enlightened and correct views.”]

In speaking of the foolish charge of avarice brought against Lord Byron by some who resented thus his not suffering them to impose on his generosity, Colonel Napier says, “I never knew a single instance of it while he was here.  I saw only a judicious generosity in all that he did.  He would not allow himself to be robbed, but he gave profusely where he thought he was doing good.  It was, indeed, because he would not allow himself to be fleeced, that he was called stingy by those who are always bent upon giving money from any purses but their own.  Lord Byron had no idea of this; and would turn sharply and unexpectedly on those who thought their game sure.  He gave a vast deal of money to the Greeks in various ways.”

Among the objects of his bounty in this way were many poor refugee Greeks from the Continent and the Isles.  He not only relieved their present distresses, but allotted a certain sum monthly to the most destitute.  “A list of these poor pensioners,” says Dr. Kennedy, “was given me by the nephew of Professor Bambas.”

One of the instances mentioned of his humanity while at Cephalonia will show how prompt he was at the call of that feeling, and how unworthy, sometimes, were the objects of it.  A party of workmen employed upon one of those fine roads projected by Colonel Napier having imprudently excavated a high bank, the earth fell in, and overwhelmed nearly a dozen persons; the news of which accident instantly reaching Metaxata, Lord Byron despatched his physician Bruno to the spot, and followed with Count Gamba, as soon as their horses could be saddled.  They found a crowd of women and children wailing round the ruins; while the workmen, who had just dug out three or four of their maimed companions, stood resting themselves unconcernedly, as if nothing more was required of them; and to Lord Byron’s enquiry whether there were not still