THE LATE LORD LOVELACE.
LTO THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOIt.”_1
Sru,—May I say a few words about the bearer of a dis- tinguished name,—Ralph Gordon Noel Milbanke, second Earl of Lovelace, who died very suddenly on August 28th at Ockham Park, the home of his ancestors during two centuries P The late Lord Lovelace combined many honours and dignities in his person. He was the lineal descendant of the great Lord Chancellor King, and be inherited the ancient barony of Wentworth from his maternal grandmother. In the eyes of the world be was more famous as the grandson of Byron, the last surviving son of the poet's daughter Ada. But apart from his illustrious birth, Lord Lovelace was a very remark- able man. He inherited the talents both of his father and of his mother, who was herself an able mathematician. A refined scholar and critic, his learning was of a wide and varied character, and extended into many remote fields. He was deeply versed in philosophy and classical lore, and in modern literature, both English and foreign. Lucretius was his favourite poet, Ffazlitt and R. L. Stevenson were his con- stant companions. Goethe and Heine were as familiar to him as Ibsen and Bjornson. He admired Tourgenieff's novels, and was profoundly impressed by all that Tolstoy wrote or said. But French authors appealed to him still more forcibly, and few living Englishmen had a more comprehensive grasp of eighteenth and nineteenth century French literature. The wit and humour of Balzae filled him with delight, and he could repeat whole pages of George Sand's letters and romances by heart. And of all books there was none which he studied more attentively or quoted more frequently than Pascal's " Thoughts." Lord Lovelace also took a keen interest in philological studies, and was a recognised authority on Swiss and Tyrolese dialects. The love of music, especially of Palestrina and Bach, Schumann and Chopin, was another feature of his character; while his fine taste in painting received an additional stimulus from the fact that his wife was an accomplished artist, of whose work he was justly proud. Although he sat in the House of Lords as Baron Wentworth from the age of twenty-four, and was a great admirer of Mr. Gladstone, whom he occasionally visited at Hawarden, Lord Lovelace took little interest in politics, and led a retired life at Ockham in the com- pany of his family and a few literary friends. His fine
library was a source of continual enjoyment to himself and his guests, and his conversation always commanded attention. What he said was never commonplace. He always spoke deliberately and to the purpose, often with great animation and felicity. At one time of his life Lord Lovelace was a keen and bold Alpine climber, and his memory is still alive among the guides of Cortina and the Dolomite country, where a mountain-peak bears his name. But of late years he seldom left his Surrey home. Hem he might often be seen in the early morning, axe in hand, wending his way to join his own woodmen, and cut down dead brandies or clear new paths. He had a considerable knowledge of forestry, and was especially fond of beech-trees, hundreds of which he has planted for the good of future generations on the Chuidon Downs and in the woods of Ockham. This brought him into close touch with many of his humbler neighbours, whose hearts he won by his gentle courtesy and goodness. Few who met the shy, reserved man in society had any idea of the kindly nature that lay hidden under this cold exterior, or dreamt of the little acts of thoughtfulness by which he endeared himself to those about him. So we feel to-day there passes out of sight a mind of rare and singular distinction, whose treasures of wisdom and knowledge wore hidden from most of us, and whose great and undoubted powers wore never put to their full use. Standing by the grave of Byron's grandson, we mean that sublime lyric in which Goethe poured out his lament over the dead poet, that Went gelingt es ? in which the great German uttered his wail over human failure. But the second Earl of Lovelace will not soon be forgotten in the familiar places of his home, and his memory will be kept green by the faithful hearts who knew and loved him.—I am,
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