for the first discovery,--though I rather fear that of the
longitude will precede it.

"I once thought myself a philosopher, and talked nonsense with great
decorum: I defied pain, and preached up equanimity. For some time this
did very well, for no one was in _pain_ for me but my friends, and none
lost their patience but my hearers. At last, a fall from my horse
convinced me bodily suffering was an evil; and the worst of an argument
overset my maxims and my temper at the same moment: so I quitted Zeno
for Aristippus, and conceive that pleasure constitutes the {~GREEK SMALL
LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER
CHI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK
SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}. I hold virtue, in
general, or the virtues severally, to be only in the disposition, each a
_feeling_, not a principle.[86] I believe truth the prime attribute of
the Deity, and death an eternal sleep, at least of the body. You have
here a brief compendium of the sentiments of the _wicked_ George Lord
Byron; and, till I get a new suit, you will perceive I am badly clothed.

I remain," &c.

Though such was, doubtless, the general cast of his opinions at this
time, it must be recollected, before we attach any particular
importance to the details of his creed, that, in addition to the
temptation, never easily resisted by him, of displaying his wit at the
expense of his character, he was here addressing a person who,
though, no doubt, well meaning, was evidently one of those officious,
self-satisfied advisers, whom it was the delight of Lord Byron at all
times to astonish and _mystify_. The tricks which, when a boy, he
played upon the Nottingham quack, Lavender, were but the first of a
long series with which, through life, he amused himself, at the
expense of all the numerous quacks whom his celebrity and sociability
drew around him.

The terms in which he speaks of the university in this letter agree in
spirit with many passages both in the "Hours of Idleness," and his
early Satire, and prove that, while Harrow was remembered by him with
more affection, perhaps, than respect, Cambridge had not been able to
inspire him with either. This feeling of distaste to his "nursing
mother" he entertained in common with some of the most illustrious
names of English literature. So great was Milton's hatred to
Cambridge, that he had even conceived, says Warton, a dislike to the
face