saturnine, and sometimes savage; he never laughed, (at least that _I_
saw, and I watched him,) but Colman did. If I had to _choose_, and could
not have both at a time, I should say, 'Let me begin the evening with
Sheridan, and finish it with Colman.' Sheridan for dinner, Colman for
supper; Sheridan for claret or port, but Colman for every thing, from
the madeira and champagne at dinner, the claret with a _layer_ of _port_
between the glasses, up to the punch of the night, and down to the grog,
or gin and water, of daybreak;--all these I have threaded with both the
same. Sheridan was a grenadier company of life-guards, but Colman a
whole regiment--of _light infantry_, to be sure, but still a regiment."

It was at this time that Lord Byron became acquainted (and, I regret to
have to add, partly through my means) with Mr. Leigh Hunt, the editor of
a well-known weekly journal, the Examiner. This gentleman I had myself
formed an acquaintance with in the year 1811, and, in common with a
large portion of the public, entertained a sincere admiration of his
talents and courage as a journalist. The interest I took in him
personally had been recently much increased by the manly spirit, which
he had displayed throughout a prosecution instituted against himself and
his brother, for a libel that had appeared in their paper on the Prince
Regent, and in consequence of which they were both sentenced to
imprisonment for two years. It will be recollected that there existed
among the Whig party, at this period, a strong feeling of indignation at
the late defection from themselves and their principles of the
illustrious personage who had been so long looked up to as the friend
and patron of both. Being myself, at the time, warmly--perhaps
intemperately--under the influence of this feeling, I regarded the fate
of Mr. Hunt with more than common interest, and, immediately on my
arrival in town, paid him a visit in his prison. On mentioning the
circumstance, soon after, to Lord Byron, and describing my surprise at