MONTHLY REVIEW OF LITERATURE. 91 



set at rest by the appearance of a fat and common-place-looking individual ; 

 but who united in his countenance the cunning eye and intelligent mouth of 

 his nation. He told me that his lordship was not yet up. ' Is Mr. Hunt at 

 home !' ' His excellence is in his study/ I gave him my card, requesting 

 him to take it to that gentleman. ' His Eccelenge, si,' said the ore rotundo 

 footman, and, bowing most humbly, he slowly took his way across the hall, 

 and entered the politician's study. The hall he left me in was as splendid a 

 one as can well be imagined. The floor was composed of marble worked in 

 alternate squares of black and white ; on the right of the door was the prin- 

 cipal stair-case, likewise of marble several feet in breadth, and supported by 

 bannisters of bronze. Opposite the stair-case was a second entrance to the 

 palace, which his lordship and Mr. Hunt generally used as a private door. I 

 cannot state to a foot the exact height of the hall ; but I should say that it 

 was at least forty feet high ; the ceiling was irregularly carved, and covered 

 with mythological paintings. The servant returned shortly, and brought me 

 word that Mr. Hunt would be happy to see me. On entering his study, the 

 poet was standing at the window with his back towards me ; he turned round 

 instantly, however, on hearing the door open, and, hastening towards me, 

 shook me most cordially by the hand. There was something in his manner 

 so naturally affable, and so instinctively polite, that put me at my ease imme- 

 diately. * Mr. Pemberton,' he said, ' welcome to Italy ; may you enjoy your 

 sojourn here as much as your father tells me you expect to do. He is quite 

 well, I hope.' I told him that a visit from London to the sea-side had greatly 

 benefited his health. * Aye, I'm glad to hear it,' returned he, ' my physicians, 

 some years ago, prescribed for me the same remedy; but certain lawyers were 

 of a different opinion; and, instead of riding a horse at Brighton, I was put, sick 

 and despairing, into a gaol. And,' he added laughing, ' old soldiers, you know, 

 will talk of their wounds. But here comes his lordship you hear his voice.' 



" As Mr. Hunt said this, I heard a voice without, lachrymose and in alto 

 giving some order to a domestic. * Is that his lordship speaking ?' said I 

 ' Yes/ returned Mr. Hunt, with a tone and look that seemed to enquire why 

 I asked. 'Then I must make up my mind to be disappointed altogether in 

 him. I fancied he had a loud voice, and a manly one.' As I said this, his 

 lordship opened the door, and entered. He bowed to me as he passed on to 

 Mr. Hunt, saying, * Leontius, good morrow to thee.' I was disappointed in 

 him ; there was something so very effeminate about both his person and his 

 manner. His lameness I had not perceived ; he managed to hide it by a dandy 

 lounge that was in admirable keeping with the lazy drawl of his voice, and the 

 negligent style of his dress. He wore a pair of white trowsers and a waist- 

 coat to match, with a loose nankin jacket, and the shirt collar, unconfined by 

 any kind of neckcloth, thrown broadly over the shoulders ; a plain velvet cap 

 seemed to have been thrown upon his head ; in one hand he carried a book, 

 and in the right, which was profusely covered with gem-adorned rings, a lawn 

 handkerchief. As he stood for a second talking to Mr. Hunt apart, I dared 

 hardly believe that it could be Lord Byron after all, and I felt a little annoyed 

 at the ludicrously incorrect idea I had formed of him. 



" Mr. Hunt was considerably taller, and as dark as his lordship was fair. 

 They were dressed nearly alike, though the politician fell short of the bard in 

 exterior adornments. Mr. Hunt had a low, harmonious, and manly voice a 

 voice like an apostle worthy to have uttered an oracle, or to have advised a 

 sage. There was more of vigour too in his manner ; and not an atom of any 

 affectation was discoverable either in his gesture or his speech. 



" Turning suddenly from his lordship, Mr. Hunt begged his permission to 

 introduce to him his young friend, Mr. Pemberton, from Cambridge. The 

 poet stepped forward to shake hands with me in the most cordial manner, 

 begged I would dine with him, and consider myself always very welcome 

 whenever I might do him the honour to pay him a visit. A very delightful 

 conversation followed, which I reserve for my next paper." 



