ne theories would, we fear, be rather puzzled
by their application, were they called to do so.

It is matter of note that Byron was surrounded as a child with the
tenderest care. At a very early age he was handed over, by his
over-indulgent mother and nurses, to most respectable, intelligent, and
devoted masters; and at no time of his youth was either his physical,
intellectual, or moral education ever neglected. I may add that Byron's
mother was respected, both as a wife and as a mother. She was an heiress
belonging to a most ancient Scotch family, and closely allied to the
royal house of Stuart, and was the second wife of the youngest son of
Admiral Byron,--an unusually handsome man, and father to the poet.

Though this man had been rather spoiled by the world, and had not
rendered her life perfectly happy, she loved him passionately, and was
most devoted to him. When he died, four years after their marriage, her
grief was such that it completely changed her nature.

A widow at twenty-three, she centred in her only child all the depth of
her affection, and though her fortune was considerably reduced, she
still had enough to render her child's life comfortable, so that his
education did not suffer by it. He was scarcely six years of age when he
succeeded to the barony of his great-uncle, and this circumstance in a
young Englishman's life always means increased prosperity. His childhood
was, therefore, most decidedly fortunate in many respects. This is all
the more certain that Byron, throughout his life, always spoke of his
happy childhood, and that his ideal of human happiness never seems to
have been realized except at that time.

But, notwithstanding Moore's exaggerations, and the excessive kindness
of his mother, whose whole life was centred in the one thought of
amusing her child, it is very likely that Byron's passionate nature may
have rendered his relations at home less agreeable than they might have
been. However much this may have been the case, it is still more certain
that such little family dissensions never produced in his mind the
slightest germ of ingratitude toward or want of care for his mother, and
that the recollection of his passionate moments only served to make him
acquire by his own efforts that wonderful self-possession for which he
was afterward remarkable.

His filial sentiments betrayed themselves at every period, and in every
circumstance of his life. The reader has seen how, at Harrow,