— 18—

here softened down to a sweet and touching melancholy, without the harrowing horrors of most of his tales, without the jarring sarcasm with which Heine likes to tear asunder the chords that just emitted the sound of deepest feeling. A good selection of true lyrical gems might be made from Byron, ¹s) and we do not know what English poet— except perhaps Burns, and he is a Scotchman— should stand higher in this kind of poetry. Byron's professedly satirical pieces — for, at the bottom, the whole work of his life is satire on his time, his country, perhaps on mankind and the world at large— can interest only those who busy themselves about the literary and social squabbles of the time. What do we care, at least what should our pupils care about the obsolete criticism of the Edinburgh Review, or about Byron's pique against Southey and others? However cutting his satire, and it generally is so, and clever too, it can but little interest the present reader, particularly the young. Our conclusion therefore must come to this:

We can spare but a small portion of our time for Byron. As it is impossible to make our pupils understand him as„the poet of moral nihilism“, which is his true character and his chief title to an important place in the history of the evolution of human thought, we shall have to limit our choice to such productions of his muse as can be understood by themselves,

apart from the gloomy background of the moral, intellectual and social state of the beginning of our century.

¹8) Such a selection ought to contain most of the lyrical pieces scattered over Childe Harold,(The castled crag of Drachenfels, perhaps, ought toi have its place here)— Hebrew Melodies,— and many other gems, such as: To Belshazzar— Must thou go, my glorious chief?— Stanzas to Augusta— Lachin-y-Gair, etc.