ed a slight touch of remorse at having thus spurned from him a
portrait drawn in no unfriendly spirit, and, though affectedly
expressed, seizing some of the less obvious features of his
character,--as, for instance, that diffidence so little to be expected
from a career like his, with the discriminating niceness of a female
hand. The following are extracts from this Portrait:--

"'Toi, dont le monde encore ignore le vrai nom,
Esprit mysterieux, Mortel, Ange, ou Demon,
Qui que tu sois, Byron, bon ou fatal genie,
J'aime de tes conceits la sauvage harmonie.'
LAMARTINE.

"It would be to little purpose to dwell upon the mere beauty of a
countenance in which the expression of an extraordinary mind was so
conspicuous. What serenity was seated on the forehead, adorned with the
finest chestnut hair, light, curling, and disposed with such art, that
the art was hidden in the imitation of most pleasing nature! What
varied expression in his eyes! They were of the azure colour of the
heavens, from which they seemed to derive their origin. His teeth, in
form, in colour, in transparency, resembled pearls; but his cheeks were
too delicately tinged with the hue of the pale rose. His neck, which he
was in the habit of keeping uncovered as much as the usages of society
permitted, seemed to have been formed in a mould, and was very white.
His hands were as beautiful as if they had been the works of art. His
figure left nothing to be desired, particularly by those who found
rather a grace than a defect in a certain light and gentle undulation of
the person when he entered a room, and of which you hardly felt tempted
to enquire the cause. Indeed it was scarcely perceptible,--the clothes
he wore were so long.

"He was never seen to walk through the streets of Venice, nor along the
pleasant banks of the Brenta, where he spent some weeks of the summer;
and there are some who assert that he has never seen, excepting from a
window, the wonders of the 'Piazza di San Marco;'--so powerful in him
was the desire of not showing himself to be deformed in any part of his
person. I, however, believe that he has often gazed on those wonders,
but in the late and solitary hour, when the stupendous edifices which
surrounded him, illuminated by the soft and placid light of the moon,
appeared a thousand times more lovely.

"His face appeared tranquil like the ocean on a fine spring morning;
but, like it, in an instant became changed in