ment, ought not to be omitted, because it
serves to illustrate, in some degree, the state of his feelings
towards her, and is so probable, that I doubt not it is in the main
correct:--

"The first time of my seeing Miss Milbanke was at Lady ***'s. It was
a fatal day; and I remember, that in going upstairs I stumbled, and
remarked to Moore, who accompanied me, that it was a bad omen. I
ought to have taken the warning. On entering the room, I observed a
young lady more simply dressed than the rest of the assembly sitting
alone upon a sofa. I took her for a female companion, and asked if I
was right in my conjecture. 'She is a great heiress,' said he, in a
whisper, that became lower as he proceeded, 'you had better marry
her, and repair the old place, Newstead.'

"There was something piquant, and what we term pretty, in Miss
Milbanke. Her features were small and feminine, though not regular.
She had the fairest skin imaginable. Her figure was perfect for her
height, and there was a simplicity, a retired modesty about her,
which was very characteristic, and formed a happy contrast to the
cold artificial formality and studied stiffness which is called
fashion. She interested me exceedingly. I became daily more
attached to her, and it ended in my making her a proposal, that was
rejected. Her refusal was couched in terms which could not offend
me. I was, besides, persuaded, that in declining my offer, she was
governed by the influence of her mother; and was the more confirmed
in my opinion, by her reviving our correspondence herself twelve
months after. The tenour of her letter was, that, although she could
not love me, she desired my friendship. Friendship is a dangerous
word for young ladies; it is love full-fledged, and waiting for a
fine day to fly."

But Lord Byron possessed this sort of irrepressible predilections--
was so much the agent of impulses, that he could not keep long in
unison with the world, or in harmony with his friends. Without
malice, or the instigation of any ill spirit, he was continually
provoking malignity and revenge. His verses on the Princess
Charlotte weeping, and his other merciless satire on her father,
begot him no friends, and armed the hatred of his enemies. There
was, indeed, something like ingratitude in the attack on the Regent,
for his Royal Highness had been particularly civil; had intimated a
wish to have him introduced to him; and Byron, fond of the
distinction, sp