shed by Mr. Dallas, he thus explains his views and intentions on
this subject.

LETTER 30.

TO THE HONOURABLE[93] MRS. BYRON.

"Newstead Abbey, Notts. October 7. 1808.

"Dear Madam,

"I have no beds for the H----s or any body else at present. The H----s
sleep at Mansfield. I do not know, that I resemble Jean Jacques
Rousseau. I have no ambition to be like so illustrious a madman--but
this I know, that I shall live in my own manner, and as much alone as
possible. When my rooms are ready I shall be glad to see you: at
present it would be improper and uncomfortable to both parties. You
can hardly object to my rendering my mansion habitable,
notwithstanding my departure for Persia in March (or May at farthest),
since _you_ will be _tenant_ till my return; and in case of any
accident (for I have already arranged my will to be drawn up the
moment I am twenty-one), I have taken care you shall have the house
and manor for _life_, besides a sufficient income. So you see my
improvements are not entirely selfish. As I have a friend here, we
will go to the Infirmary Ball on the 12th; we will drink tea with Mrs.
Byron at eight o'clock, and expect to see you at the ball. If that
lady will allow us a couple of rooms to dress in, we shall be highly
obliged:--if we are at the ball by ten or eleven it will be time
enough, and we shall return to Newstead about three or four. Adieu.

"Believe me yours very truly,

"BYRON."

The idea, entertained by Mrs. Byron, of a resemblance between her son
and Rousseau was founded chiefly, we may suppose, on those habits of
solitariness, in which he had even already shown a disposition to
follow that self-contemplative philosopher, and which, manifesting
themselves thus early, gained strength as he advanced in life. In one
of his Journals, to which I frequently have occasion to refer,[94] he
thus, in questioning the justice of this comparison between himself
and Rousseau, gives,--as usual, vividly,--some touches of his own
disposition and habitudes:--

"My mother, before I was twenty, would have it that I was like
Rousseau, and Madame de Stael used to say so too in 1813, and the
Edinburgh Review has something of the sort in its critique on the
fourth Canto of Childe Harold. I can't see any point of
resemblance:--he wrote prose, I verse: he was of the people; I of the
aristocracy:[95] he was a philosopher; I am none: he published his
first work at forty; I mine at eighteen: his first e