ound out those
distinctive marks by which he was to be known through all times. But,
bold and energetic as was his general character, he was, in a
remarkable degree, diffident in his intellectual powers. The
consciousness of what he could achieve was but by degrees forced upon
him, and the discovery of so rich a mine of genius in his soul came
with no less surprise on himself than on the world. It was from the
same slowness of self-appreciation that, afterwards, in the full flow
of his fame, he long doubted, as we shall see, his own aptitude for
works of wit and humour,--till the happy experiment of "Beppo" at once
dissipated this distrust, and opened a new region of triumph to his
versatile and boundless powers.

But, however far short of himself his first writings must be
considered, there is in his Satire a liveliness of thought, and still
more a vigour and courage, which, concurring with the justice of his
cause and the sympathies of the public on his side, could not fail to
attach instant celebrity to his name. Notwithstanding, too, the
general boldness and recklessness of his tone, there were occasionally
mingled with this defiance some allusions to his own fate and
character, whose affecting earnestness seemed to answer for their
truth, and which were of a nature strongly to awaken curiosity as well
as interest. One or two of these passages, as illustrative of the
state of his mind at this period, I shall here extract. The loose and
unfenced state in which his youth was left to grow wild upon the world
is thus touchingly alluded to:--

"Ev'n I, least thinking of a thoughtless throng,
Just skill'd to know the right and choose the wrong,
Freed at that age when Reason's shield is lost
To fight my course through Passion's countless host,
Whom every path of Pleasure's flowery way
Has lured in turn, and all have led astray[105]--
Ev'n I must raise my voice, ev'n I must feel
Such scenes, such men destroy the public weal:
Although some kind, censorious friend will say,
'What art thou better, meddling fool,[106] than they?'
And every brother Rake will smile to see
That miracle, a Moralist, in me."

But the passage in which, hastily thrown off as it is, we find the
strongest traces of that wounded feeling, which bleeds, as it were,
through all his subsequent writings, is the following:--

"The time hath been, when no harsh sound would fall