Lord Byron, one of the most astonishing figures of the nineteenth century, found an exceptional biographer in Ethel Colburn Mayne. Byron had the qualities of his defects and the defects of his qualities to an extraordinary degree. There was such disparity between his nature and his actions, his personality and its manifestations that it is a difficult task for any biographer to plumb his depth and reveal his intricacies. Although Moore wrote a life of him that has great merit, he did not succeed in doing this. Miss Mayne has, and her book is the best personality portrait of Byron that we have, and E. Barrington has not jeopardised its claim with _Glorious Apollo_. She played the double rôle of biographer and novelist, the latter a little too convincingly. It is gratifying to note that she changed her point of view in regard to Trelawny after reading Mrs. Olwen Campbell’s _Shelley and the Unromantics_. Biographers do not like to admit flaws in their heroes, and so Miss Mayne finds excuses for Byron’s faults, passes lightly over his frailty and is extremely reticent concerning the great mystery of his life. She presents the facts of the “Astarte” question as they have been made known by Byron’s grandson, Ralph, Earl of Lovelace, who died in 1906. Every person interested in literature knows that the book “Astarte” was written to vindicate the character of Lady Byron, who left her husband, alleging that he had had meretricious relationship with his half-sister, Augusta Leigh, and that he was the father of the child, Medora. Miss Mayne’s comment is interesting: “Only pity will avail for understanding of this household and we need but know the future of the husband, the wife and Augusta Leigh for pity to constrain our heart.” Hero-worship is one of the necessary factors of good biographies. At the service of critical ability, and kept within the limit of facts, it may result in such seductive reading as Mr. Charles Wheeler Coit’s _The Royal Martyr_. Charles I, of England, his tragedy and its causes are there rendered in their true light. A martyr he was, indeed--and modest like most martyrs. Mr. Coit has done historical biography a great service, because his book is more than readable--it has charm. His display of erudition is nowhere overwhelming, but his fine use of English and the poetical turn of his prose make literature of what might have been a textbook. Love and loyalty to King Charles do not blind him to his weaknesses--but he finds apologies for them, and he is convincing. “The Royal Martyr” is one of the finest biographies, in the more serious line, that has recently come out of England. For the king, it will make hero-worshippers, and, for the biographer, admirers.