My Recollections of Lord Byron
When Kennedy had characterized Shelley in even stronger terms, Byron
said to him: "I see it is impossible to move your soul to any sympathy,
or even to obtain from you in common justice a little indulgence for an
unfortunate young man, gifted with a lofty mind and a fine imagination."
These remarks reveal the tolerant spirit of Lord Byron, but they also
show how the best natures are spoiled by dogmatism.
The conversation had lasted several hours. Night was coming on, and the
doctor, carried away by his zeal, had forgotten the hour. His host,
however, did nothing to remind him of it, and when Kennedy got up to
take his leave, he said to Byron, after making excuses for remaining so
long, "God having gifted you, my lord, with a mind which can grasp every
subject, I am convinced that if your lordship would devote yourself to
the study of religion, you would become one of its lights, the pride of
your country, and the consolation of every honest person."
Lord Byron replied:--
"I certainly intend to study the matter, but you must give me a little
time. You see that I have begun well: I listen to all you say. Don't you
find that my arguments are more like your own than you would have
thought?"
"Yes," answered the doctor, "and it gives me great pleasure. I have far
better hopes of your lordship's conversion than of that of the young
officers who listened to me without understanding the meaning of my
words. You have shown greater patience and candor than I could have
imagined you to be capable of; whereas they, on the contrary, exhibited
so hardened a spirit that they appeared to look upon the subject as one
which lent itself admirably to ridicule and laughter."
"You must allow," said Byron, "that in the times in which we are now
living it is difficult to bestow attention to any serious religious
matter. I think, however, I can promise to reflect even more on the
subject than I have done hitherto, without, however, promising to adopt
your orthodox views."
The doctor then asked him leave to present him with the work of B----,
which he commended in high terms. Lord Byron said he would have great
pleasure in reading it, and told the doctor that he should always be
happy to see him, and at any time that he liked to come. "Should I be
out when you come," he added, "take my books and read until my return."
On leaving Byron the doctor reflected over all that had taken place, and
feared that his zeal had carried him too far--that his long conversation
might have tired rather than interested Byron; but on the whole, he
concluded by saying to himself, "It appears to me, that Byron never
exhibited the least symptom of fatigue, but, on the contrary,
continually showed great attention from beginning to end."
We have, perhaps, dwelt too much in our report of this conversation, but
we wished to do so for several reasons. First, because it shows, better
than a public debate, the real thoughts and feelings of Byron on
religious matters, next, the real nature of his religious opinions, and
finally we find, in Byron's conversation, virtues such as amiability,
goodness, patience, delicacy, and toleration, which have not been
sufficiently noticed.
The sympathy which Kennedy had conceived for Byron after the public
meeting greatly increased after this first conversation. The candor and
simplicity depicted on his handsome countenance, showed that his lofty
intelligence could, better than any one else, grasp the theories of the
doctor; and the latter felt that if he could not prevail in making Byron
a believer in his own orthodox views, at least he could prepare the way
for the acquirement of every virtue, and he resolved, therefore, to
profit by the permission given him of often visiting Byron.
Meanwhile, the young officers continued their jokes, and pretended that
Byron was laughing at the doctor, and making use of him in order to
study Methodism, which he wished to introduce into his poem of "Don
Juan." There is, however, a community of feeling between two frank
natures, and Byron felt that the doctor's sincerity commanded respect,
while the doctor, on the other hand, knew that Lord Byron was too
earnest to condescend to a mockery of him.
"There was," says Kennedy, "nothing flighty in his manner with me, and
nothing which showed any desire to laugh at religion."
When he returned to see Lord Byron, he found him more than ever
preoccupied with his approaching departure for Continental Greece, and
engrossed with a multitude of various occupations and visits. Byron,
nevertheless, received him most graciously, and maintained that jovial
humor which was one of his characteristics in conversation. Byron had
reflected a good deal since his last interview with the doctor, but the
direction which his thoughts had taken was not precisely that which the
doctor had advised him to pursue. They did not agree with the tenets of
the doctor's religion. The latter had not advised an unlimited use of
one's reason, but, on the contrary, had recommended reliance on the
traditional and orthodox teachings of the Church. To reason, however,
constituted in Byron a positive necessity. He could not admit that God
had given us the power of thought not to make use of it, and obliged us
to believe that which in religion, as in other things, appears
ridiculous to our reason and shocks our sense of justice. "It is useless
to tell me," he said, somewhere in his memoranda, "that I am to believe
and not to reason: you might just as well tell a man, 'Wake not, but
sleep.' Then to be threatened with eternal sufferings and torments!--I
can not help thinking that as many devils are created by the threat of
eternal punishment, as numberless criminals are made by the severity of
the penal laws."
Mysteries and dogmas, however, were not objectionable to Byron. This was
shown in his conversation with Kennedy on the subject of the Trinity and
of predestination. However little disposed he may have been to believe
in mysteries, he nevertheless bowed in submission before their
existence, and respected the faith which they inspire in minds more
happily constituted than his own. His partial skepticism, or rather that
in him which has been so denominated, was humble and modest in
comparison to Montaigne's skepticism. Byron admitted that these were
mysteries because the littleness of man and the greatness of God were
ever present to him. He would have agreed with Newton in saying that "he
was like a child playing on the beach with the waves which bathed the
sands. The water with which he played was what he knew; what he ignored
was the widespread ocean before him." Surrounded as we are by mysteries
on all sides, he would have esteemed it presumption on his part to
reject, in the name of science, all the mysteries of religion, when
science itself has only to deal with phenomena. All is necessarily a
mystery in its origin, and not to understand was no sufficient reason in
the eyes of Byron to deny altogether the existence of matters relating
to the Divinity. Could he reject religious dogmas under the pretext of
not being able to understand them, when he admitted others equally
difficult of comprehension, although supported by logical proofs?
Among the mysteries of religion founded entirely upon revelation, there
was one, however, which not only weighed upon his mind, but actually
gave him positive pain. This was the dogma of eternal punishment, which
he could not reconcile with the idea of an omnipotent Creator, as
omnipotence implies perfect goodness and justice, of which the ideal has
been implanted in our hearts. Here again his objections sprang from
kindness of disposition.
After speaking a while on the subject of prayer, Byron said to
Kennedy:--
"There is a book which I must show you," and, having chosen from a
number of books on the table an octavo volume, entitled "Illustrations
of the Moral Government of God, by E. Smith, M.D., London," he showed it
to Kennedy, and asked him whether he knew of it. On Kennedy replying in
the negative, Byron said that the author of the book proved that hell
was not a place of eternal punishment.
"This is no new doctrine," replied Kennedy, "and I presume the author to
be a Socinian, who, if consistent at all with his opinions, will sooner
or later reject the Bible entirely, and avow himself to be what he
really is already, namely, a Deist. Where did your lordship find the
book?"
"It was sent to me from England," replied Byron, "to convert me, I
suppose. The author's arguments are very powerful. They are taken from
the Bible, and, while proving that the day will come when every
intellectual being will enjoy the bliss of eternal happiness, he shows
how impossible is the doctrine which pretends that sin and misery can
exist eternally under the government of a God whose principle attributes
are goodness and love."
"But," said Kennedy, "how does he then explain the existence of sin in
the world for upward of 6000 years? That is equally inconsistent with
the notion of perfect love and goodness as united in God."
"I can not admit the soundness of your argument," replied Byron; "for
God may allow sin and misery to co-exist for a time, but His goodness
must prevail in the end, and cause their existence to cease. At any rate
it is better to believe that the infinite goodness of God, while
allowing evil to exist as a means of our arriving at perfection, will
show itself still greater some day when every intellectual being shall
be purified and freed from the bondage of sin and misery."
As Kennedy persisted in arguing against the author's opinions, Lord
Byron asked him "Why he was so desirous of proving the eternity of hell,
since such a doctrine was most decidedly against the gentle and kind
character of the teaching of Christ?" To other arguments on the same
subject, Byron replied, that he could not determine as to the justice of
their conclusions, but that he could not help thinking it would be very
desirable to show that in the end all created beings must be happy, and
therefore rather agreed with Mr. Smith than with the doctor.
As Lord Byron, however, had always allowed that man was free in thought
and action, and therefore a responsible being made to justify the ends
of Providence, he believed that Providence did give some sanction to the
laws implanted in our natures. Sinners must be punished, but a merciful
God must proportion punishments to the weakness of our natures, and
Byron therefore inclined toward the Catholic belief in Purgatory, which
agreed better with his own appreciation of the goodness and mercy of
God.
Lord Byron's preference for Catholicism is well known. His first
successes of oratory in the House of Lords were due to the cause of
Catholicism in Ireland, which he defended; and when he wished his little
daughter Allegra to be brought up in the Catholic faith, he wrote to Mr.
Hoppner, British consul at Venice, who had always taken a lively
interest in the child, to say that:--
"In the convent of Bagna-Cavallo she will at least have her education
advanced, and her morals and religion cared for.... It is, besides, my
wish that she should be a Roman Catholic, which I look upon as the best
religion, as it is assuredly the oldest of the various branches of
Christianity."
This predilection for Catholicism was not the result of the poetry of
that religion, or of the effect which its pomps and gorgeous ceremonies
produced upon the imagination. They, no doubt, were not indifferent to a
mind so easily impressed as his, but not sufficient to justify his
preference; for Byron, although a poet, never allowed his reason to be
swayed by his imagination. He reasoned upon every subject. His
objections proceeded as much from his mind as his heart. "Catholicism,"