CCTHE PILGRIM OF ETERNITY55

historic land. His poems had then created that ardent
sympathy with the Greek people which was now ex-
pressed in a body of English Philhellenes, anxious
to give help even by arms. But apart from his
genuine devotion to the cause of freedom and his
memories of the incalculable service of ancient Greece
to mankind, he recognized an opportunity for his
own personal deliverance.

He was only thirty-five, but he saw himself age-
ing. His misuse of women, wine, and spirits had
been for his health excessive, though probably it was
not above the average of his time. But even more
injurious to health had been his pernicious diet
adopted in the hope of keeping his figure slim. The
stoutest constitutions must quail under courses of
vinegar, cucumbers, and magnesia. He became al-
ternately too pale and too red, too fat and too flabby.
He was now subject to " seizures " and fits of un-
controllable rage, stamping, grinding his teeth, and
pouring out streams of violent abuse. His dress had
become ridiculous, and visitors stared at him as at
a relic of fame outlived. The blaze of glory is all
very well, but it is a bonfire that needs repeated
feeding.

And how depressing his surroundings had become !
There was Shelley's widow, certainly no good friend ;
Claire Clairmont, who had pursued him passionately
till she became mother of his daughter; there was
Lady Blessington, a disappointed lion-hunter ; Count
d'Orsay, the fop ; Trelawny, the model poseur ; Leigh
Hunt, the casual sponge ; Mrs. Leigh Hunt, the
slatternly spendthrift, and her six slovenly children,
with another coming ; there were the dogs, the mon-
keys, the parrot. Worse than all, there was the Con-
tessa Guiccioli, rather dull, rather plain by now,

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