ewhere, became great
cronies. He was not good tempered--nor am I--but with a little tact
his temper was manageable, and I thought him so superior a man, that I
was willing to sacrifice something to his humours, which were often,
at the same time, amusing and provoking. What became of his _papers_
(and he certainly had many), at the time of his death, was never
known. I mention this by the way, fearing to skip it over, and _as_ he
_wrote_ remarkably well, both in Latin and English. We went down to
Newstead together, where I had got a famous cellar, and _Monks'_
dresses from a masquerade warehouse. We were a company of some seven
or eight, with an occasional neighbour or so for visiters, and used to
sit up late in our friars' dresses, drinking burgundy, claret,
champagne, and what not, out of the _skull-cup_, and all sorts of
glasses, and buffooning all round the house, in our conventual
garments. Matthews always denominated me 'the Abbot,' and never called
me by any other name in his good humours, to the day of his death.
The harmony of these our symposia was somewhat interrupted, a few days
after our assembling, by Matthews's threatening to throw ---- out of a
_window_, in consequence of I know not what commerce of jokes ending
in this epigram. ---- came to me and said, that 'his respect and
regard for me as host would not permit him to call out any of my
guests, and that he should go to town next morning.' He did. It was in
vain that I represented to him that the window was not high, and that
the turf under it was particularly soft. Away he went.

"Matthews and myself had travelled down from London together, talking
all the way incessantly upon one single topic. When we got to
Loughborough, I know not what chasm had made us diverge for a moment
to some other subject, at which he was indignant. 'Come,' said he,
'don't let us break through--let us go on as we began, to our
journey's end;' and so he continued, and was as entertaining as ever
to the very end. He had previously occupied, during my year's absence
from Cambridge, my rooms in Trinity, with the furniture; and Jones,
the tutor, in his odd way, had said, on putting him in, 'Mr. Matthews,
I recommend to your attention not to damage any of the movables, for
Lord Byron, Sir, is a young man of _tumultuous passions_.' Matthews
was delighted with this; and whenever anybody came to visit him,
begged them to handle the very door with caution; and used to repeat
Jones's