Lord Byron's opinion of my courage; and as he seemed so anxious for
the horse, I agreed to let him have it when he was to embark. From
this time he paid particular attention to the movements of poor
Mameluke (the name of the horse), and said he should now feel
confidence in action with so steady a charger.

_April_--. Lord Byron dined with us today. During dinner he was as
usual gay, spoke in terms of the warmest commendation of Sir Walter
Scott, not only as an author, but as a man, and dwelt with apparent
delight on his novels, declaring that he had read and re-read them
over and over again, and always with increased pleasure. He said
that he quite equalled, nay, in his opinion, surpassed Cervantes. In
talking of Sir Walter's private character, goodness of heart, &c.,
Lord Byron became more animated than I had ever seen him; his colour
changed from its general pallid tint to a more lively hue, and his
eyes became humid: never had he appeared to such advantage, and it
might easily be seen that every expression he uttered proceeded from
his heart. Poor Byron!--for poor he is even with all his genius, rank,
and wealth--had he lived more with men like Scott, whose openness of
character and steady principle had convinced him that they were in
earnest in _their goodness_, and not _making believe_, (as he always
suspects good people to be,) his life might be different and happier!
Byron is so acute an observer that nothing escapes him; all the shades
of selfishness and vanity are exposed to his searching glance, and the
misfortune is, (and a serious one it is to him,) that when he finds
these, and alas! they are to be found on every side, they disgust
and prevent his giving credit to the many good qualities that often
accompany them. He declares he can sooner pardon crimes, because they
proceed from the passions, than these minor vices, that spring from
egotism and self-conceit. We had a long argument this evening on the