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 infidelity. How far justice may have dictated this
accusation, I cannot pretend to say; but, like the _gentleman_ to whom
my religious friends, in the warmth of their charity, have already
devoted me, I am made worse than I really am. However, to quit myself
(the worst theme I could pitch upon), and return to my poems, I cannot
sufficiently express my thanks, and I hope I shall some day have an
opportunity of rendering them in person. A second edition is now in
the press, with some additions and considerable omissions; you will
allow me to present you with a copy. The Critical, Monthly, and
Anti-Jacobin Reviews have been very indulgent; but the Eclectic has
pronounced a furious Philippic, not against the _book_ but the
_author_, where you will find all I have mentioned asserted by a
reverend divine who wrote the critique.

Your name and connection with our family have been long known to me,
and I hope your person will be not less so: you will find me an
excellent compound of a 'Brainless' and a 'Stanhope.'[83] I am afraid
you will hardly be able to read this, for my hand is almost as bad as
my character; but you will find me, as legibly as possible,

"Your obliged and obedient servant,

"BYRON."

There is here, evidently, a degree of pride in being thought to
resemble the wicked Lord Lyttleton; and, lest his known irregularities
should not bear him out in the pretension, he refers mysteriously, as
was his habit, to certain untold events of