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172.--To R. C. Dallas. [1]


Newstead Abbey, Aug. 27, 1811.

I was so sincere in my note on the late Charles Matthews, and do feel
myself so totally unable to do justice to his talents, that the passage
must stand for the very reason you bring against it. To him all the men
I ever knew were pigmies. He was an intellectual giant. It is true I
loved Wingfield [2] better; he was the earliest and the dearest, and one
of the few one could never repent of having loved: but in ability--ah!
you did not know Matthews!

'Childe Harold' may wait and welcome--books are never the worse for
delay in the publication. So you have got our heir, George Anson Byron,
[3] and his sister, with you.

You may say what you please, but you are one of the 'murderers' of
Blackett, and yet you won't allow Harry White's genius. [4]

Setting aside his bigotry, he surely ranks next Chatterton. It is
astonishing how little he was known; and at Cambridge no one thought or
heard of such a man till his death rendered all notice useless. For my
own part, I should have been most proud of such an acquaintance: his