'What is this Death? a quiet of the heart? The whole of that of which we are a part? For Life is but a vision--what I see Of all which lives alone is Life to me, And being so--the absent are the dead Who haunt us from tranquillity, and spread A dreary shroud around us, and invest With sad remembrancers our hours of rest. The absent are the dead--for they are cold, And ne'er can be what once we did behold; And they are changed, and cheerless,--or if yet _The unforgotten do not all forget, Since thus divided_--equal must it be _If the deep barrier be of earth, or sea_; _It may be both_--but one day end it must In the dark union of insensate dust.' It was at this time also that Byron wrote his 'Stanzas to Augusta,' which show his complete confidence in her loyalty: 'Though human, thou didst not deceive me, Though woman, thou didst not forsake, Though loved, thou forborest to grieve me, Though tempted, thou never couldst shake; _Though trusted, thou didst not betray me_, Though parted, it was not to fly, Though watchful, 'twas not to defame me, _Nor, mute, that the world might belie_.' Byron's remorse also found expression in 'Manfred,' where contrition is but slightly veiled by words of mysterious import, breathed in an atmosphere of mountains, magic, and ghost-lore. People in society, whose ears had been poisoned by insinuations against Mrs. Leigh, and who knew nothing of Byron's intercourse with Mary Chaworth, came to the conclusion that 'Manfred' revealed a criminal attachment between Byron and his sister. Byron was aware of this, and, conscious of his innocence, held his head in proud defiance, and laughed his enemies to scorn. He did not deign to defend himself; and the public--forgetful of the maxim that where there is a sense of guilt there is a jealousy of drawing attention to it--believed the worst. When a critique of 'Manfred,' giving an account of the supposed origin of the story, was sent to Byron, he wrote to Murray: 'The conjecturer is out, and knows nothing of the matter. I had a better origin than he can devise or divine for the soul of him.' That was the simple truth. The cruel allegation against Mrs. Leigh seemed to be beneath contempt. As Sir Egerton Brydges pointed out at the time, Byron, being of a strong temperament, did not reply to the injuries heaped upon him by whining complaints and cowardly protestations of innocence; he became desperate, and broke out into indignation, sarcasm, and exposure of his opponents, in a manner so severe as to seem inexcusably cruel to those who did not realize the provocation. It was 'war to the knife,' and Byron had the best of it. We propose to examine 'Manfred' closely, to see whether Astarte in any degree resembles the description which Lord Lovelace has given of Augusta Leigh.