As to the assertion confidently made by Dr. Bruno, that, had his patient submitted at the onset of his malady to phlebotomy, he would have infallibly recovered, I believe every medical man who maturely considers the subject will be led to esteem this assertion as being founded rather on presumption than on reason. Positive language, which is in general so misplaced in medical science, becomes in the present case even ridiculous; for, if different authors be consulted, it will appear that the very remedy which is proclaimed by some as the anchor of salvation, is by others condemned as the instrument of ruin. Bleeding (as many will be found to assert) favours metastasis in rheumatic fevers; and, in confirmation of this opinion, they will remark that in this case, as soon as the lancet was employed, the cerebral symptoms manifested themselves on the disappearance of the rheumatic; while those who incline to Dr. Reid's and Dr. Heberden's opinion will observe that, after each successive phlebotomy, the cerebral symptoms not only did not remain at the same degree, but that they hourly went on increasing. In this dilemmatic position it is evident that, whatever treatment might have been adopted, detractors could not fail to have some grounds for laying the blame on the medical attendants. The more I consider this difficult question, however, the more I feel convinced that, whatsoever method of cure had been adopted, there is every reason to believe that a fatal termination was inevitable; and here I may be permitted to observe, that it must have been the lot of every medical man to observe how frequently the fear of death produces it, and how seldom a patient, who persuades himself that he must die, is mistaken. The prediction of the Scotch fortune-teller was ever present to Lord Byron, and, like an insidious poison, destroyed that moral energy which is so useful to keep up the patient in dangerous complaints. 'Did I not tell you,' said he repeatedly to me, 'that I should die at thirty-seven?' There is an entry in Millingen's 'Memoirs of Greece' which has not received the attention it deserves--namely, a request made by Byron on the day before his death. It is given by Millingen in the following words: 'One request let me make to you. Let not my body be hacked, or be sent to England. Here let my bones moulder. Lay me in the first corner without pomp or nonsense.' After Byron's death Millingen informed Gamba of this request, but it was thought that it would be a sacrilege to leave his remains in a place 'where they might some day become the sport of insulting barbarians.' INDEX Adam, Sir F., High Commissioner of the Ionian islands: his tribute to Byron's character, 202 Agraffa, the scene of Cariascachi's depredations, 162 Allegra, Byron's natural daughter: her life and death, 22; Byron's feelings for, 35