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Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron, 1788-1824

"The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals, Volume 2"

If he goes on _qualis ab incepto_, I
know few men who will deserve more praise or obtain it. I must go and
see him again;--the rapid succession of adventure, since last summer,
added to some serious uneasiness and business, have interrupted our
acquaintance; but he is a man worth knowing; and though, for his own
sake, I wish him out of prison, I like to study character in such
situations. He has been unshaken, and will continue so. I don't think
him deeply versed in life;--he is the bigot of virtue (not religion),
and enamoured of the beauty of that "empty name," as the last breath of
Brutus pronounced [1], and every day proves it. He is, perhaps, a little
opinionated, as all men who are the _centre_ of _circles_, wide or
narrow--the Sir Oracles, in whose name two or three are gathered
together--must be, and as even Johnson was; but, withal, a valuable man,
and less vain than success and even the consciousness of preferring "the
right to the expedient" might excuse.
To-morrow there is a party of _purple_ at the "blue" Miss Berry's. Shall
I go? um!--I don't much affect your blue-bottles;--but one ought to be
civil. There will be, "I guess now" (as the Americans say), the Staels
and Mackintoshes--good--the----s and----s--not so good--the----s,
etc., etc.--good for nothing. Perhaps that blue-winged Kashmirian
butterfly of book-learning [2], Lady Charlemont, will be there. I hope
so; it is a pleasure to look upon that most beautiful of faces.
Wrote to H.


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