title of Byron's masterpiece was properly a misnomer: which is no great matter after all, since the new Juan can never be confounded with the old.

Of Byron's smaller poems there is less to say, and less space to say it. Their splendid merits and their visible defects call neither for praise nor blame. Their place and his, in the literature of England, are fixed points: no critical astronomy of the future can lower or can raise them: they have their own station for all time among the greater and the lesser stars. As a poet, Byron was surpassed, beyond all question and all comparison, by three men at least of his own time; and matched, if not now and then over-matched, by one or two others. The verse of Wordsworth, at its highest, went higher than his; the verse of Landor flowed clearer. But his own ground, where none but he could set foot, was lofty enough, fertile and various. Nothing in Byron is so worthy of wonder and admiration as the scope and range of his power. New fields and ways of work, had he lived, might have given room for exercise and matter for triumph to "that most fiery spirit." 11* As it is, his work was done

* The noble verses of Shelley are fitter to be spoken over Byron than over any first or last Napoleon. To no other man could they be so well applied: for the world indeed took more

at Missolonghi; all of his work for which the fates could spare him time. A little space was allowed him to show at least a heroic purpose, and attest a high design; then, with all things unfinished before him and behind, he fell asleep after many troubles and triumphs. Few can ever have gone wearier to the grave; none with less fear. He had done enough to earn his rest. Forgetful now and set free for ever from all faults and foes, he passed through the doorway of no ignoble death out of reach of time, out of sight of love, out of hearing of hatred, beyond the blame of England and the praise of Greece. In the full strength of spirit and of body his destiny overtook him, and made an end of all his labours. He had seen and borne and achieved more than most men on record. "He was a great man, good at many

of warmth from the fire of his spirit while alive than from any other then kindled :

things, and now he has attained this also, to be at rest."

Of the workman and his work there is here no space to say more; and of the present book of selections not much need be said. It bears on the face of it the marks of imperfection and inadequacy; for these the very circumstances and conditions of its existence must be in some part answerable. Adequate and complete such a book cannot be: it must have fallen yet further short of its proper aim, but for the courtesy of those with whom it rested to determine whether the attempt should be made at all. Thanks are therefore due to the publisher and proprietor of Byron's poems, if there should be anything here worth thanks, from the reader; from the editor and publisher of this book, they are due in any case. Much that should be found here will be missed, and by none more than by me; but nothing at least will be found unworthy to share or unfit to secure the fame of Byron.

A. C. SWINBURNE.

CHRISTMAS: 1865.