Here again, however, we should recollect, there must be a considerable share of allowance for his usual tendency to make the most and the worst of his own obliquities.  There occurs, indeed, in his first letter to Mr. Dallas, an instance of this strange ambition,—­the very reverse, it must be allowed, of hypocrisy,—­which led him to court, rather than avoid, the reputation of profligacy, and to put, at all times, the worst face on his own character and conduct.  His new correspondent having, in introducing himself to his acquaintance, passed some compliments on the tone of moral and charitable feeling which breathed through one of his poems, had added, that it “brought to his mind another noble author, who was not only a fine poet, orator, and historian, but one of the closest reasoners we have on the truth of that religion of which forgiveness is a prominent principle, the great and good Lord Lyttleton, whose fame will never die.  His son,” adds Mr. Dallas, “to whom he had transmitted genius, but not virtue, sparkled for a moment and went out like a star,—­and with him the title became extinct.”  To this Lord Byron answers in the following letter:—­

LETTER 20.

TO MR. DALLAS.

“Dorant’s Hotel, Albemarle Street, Jan. 20. 1808.

“Sir,

“Your letter was not received till this morning, I presume from being addressed to me in Notts., where I have not resided since last June, and as the date is the 6th, you will excuse the delay of my answer.

“If the little volume you mention has given pleasure to the author of Percival and Aubrey, I am sufficiently repaid by his praise.  Though our periodical censors have been uncommonly lenient, I confess a tribute from a man of acknowledged genius is still more flattering.  But I am afraid I should forfeit all claim to candour, if I did not decline such praise as I do not deserve; and this is, I am sorry to say, the case in the present instance.

“My compositions speak for themselves, and must stand or fall by their own worth or demerit:  thus far I feel highly gratified by your favourable opinion.  But my pretensions to virtue are unluckily so few, that though I should be happy to merit, I cannot accept, your applause in that respect.  One passage in your letter struck me forcibly:  you mention the two Lords Lyttleton in a manner they respectively deserve, and will be surprised to hear the person who is now addressing you has been frequently compared to the latter.  I know I am injuring myself in your esteem by this avowal, but the circumstance was so remarkable from your observation, that I cannot help relating the fact.  The events of my short life have been of so singular a nature, that, though the pride commonly called honour has, and I trust ever will, prevent me from disgracing my name by a mean or cowardly action, I have been already held up as the votary of licentiousness, and the disciple of