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'Because I once got two copies and read all the omissions. 'Why did you do that? asked Maude mischievously. 'Because I wanted to make sure that they HAD been omitted, said Mrs. Hunt Mortimer severely. Mrs. Beecher stooped and picked an invisible hairpin out of the rug. Mrs. Hunt Mortimer continued. 'There is Byron, of course. But he is so very suggestive. There are passages in his works
Byron, in describing the city of Venice, which is built on a low island in the Adriatic Sea, borrows an illustration from Cybele: "She looks a sea-Cybele fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers." Childe Harold, IV.
Carlyle was naturally the chief among them, and he was perhaps at one time ambitious of himself taking some part in public affairs, and saw the advantage of this stepping-stone to enable him to do something more for the world, as Byron said, than write books for it.
But then, this might have been an ideal passion, as has happened to many of us, and we have never been less enamoured than when in the immediate presence of its object: but in this instance it was very different, creating a kind of fretful happiness quite intolerable. Byron says, in his ever-glowing way, that "Sweeter far than this, than these, than all, Is first and passionate love!"
In other respects the view around is lively, and in fine weather quickened with innumerable objects in motion. In the calmest days the rippling in the flow of the Bosphorus is like the running of a river. In the fifth canto of Don Juan, Lord Byron has seized the principal features, and delineated them with sparkling effect.
Lying in bed and listening to their dreary music had a pleasure in it akin to the Lucretian luxury, or that which Byron speaks of as to be enjoyed in looking on at a battle by one "who hath no friend, no brother there."
Byron himself does not notice this incident in Childe Harold, nor even the adventure more terrific which he met with alone in similar circumstances on the night before their arrival at Zitza, when his guides lost their way in the defiles of the mountains adventures sufficiently disagreeable in the advent, but full of poesy in the remembrance.
"Sarah, I think you might bring us some tea, please, and ask John if he couldn't stir the furnace a little. And then to have people explain you. Goethe must be a good deal amused, I expect, when people write books to prove that Byron was Euphorion." Miss Schenectady was fond of German literature, and the extent of her reading was a constant surprise to her niece.
Bismarck's size was 7-1/4, so was Gladstone's, so was Campbell-Bannerman's. But on the other hand, Byron had a small head, and a very small brain. And didn't Goethe say that Byron was the finest brain that Europe had produced since Shakespeare? I should not agree in ordinary circumstances, but as a person with a smallish head, I am prepared in this connection to take Goethe's word on the subject.
There was no examination of our trunks on arrival, nor any questions asked on that score. Hotel de Byron, June 12th. Yesterday afternoon we left Geneva by a steamer, starting from the quay at only a short distance from our hotel.
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