13.-To the Hon. Augusta Byron.


[Castle Howard, Malton, Yorkshire.]

Harrow-on-the-Hill, October 25th, 1804.


My dear Augusta,--In compliance with your wishes, as well as gratitude
for your affectionate letter, I proceed as soon as possible to answer
it; I am glad to hear that _any body_ gives a good account of me; but
from the quarter you mention, I should imagine it was exaggerated.
That you are unhappy, my dear Sister, makes me so also; were it in my
power to relieve your sorrows you would soon recover your spirits; as
it is, I sympathize better than you yourself expect. But really, after
all (pardon me my dear Sister), I feel a little inclined to laugh at
you, for love, in my humble opinion, is utter nonsense, a mere jargon
of compliments, romance, and deceit; now, for my part, had I fifty
mistresses, I should in the course of a fortnight, forget them all,
and, if by any chance I ever recollected one, should laugh at it as a
dream, and bless my stars, for delivering me from the hands of the
little mischievous Blind God. Can't you drive this Cousin [1] of ours
out of your pretty little head (for as to _hearts_ I think they are
out of the question), or if you are so far gone, why don't you give
old L'Harpagon [2] (I mean the General) the slip, and take a trip to
Scotland, you are now pretty near the Borders. Be sure to Remember me
to my formal Guardy Lord Carlisle, [3] whose magisterial presence I
have not been into for some years, nor have I any ambition to attain