ame are gone. My
scruples were preposterous and criminal. They are bred in all hearts, by
a perverse and vicious education, and they would still have maintained
their place in my heart, had not my portion been set in misery. My
errors have taught me thus much wisdom; that those sentiments which we
ought not to disclose, it is criminal to harbour.

It was proposed to begin the rehearsal at four o'clock; I counted the
minutes as they passed; their flight was at once too rapid and too slow;
my sensations were of an excruciating kind; I could taste no food, nor
apply to any task, nor enjoy a moment's repose: when the hour arrived, I
hastened to my brother's.

Pleyel was not there. He had not yet come. On ordinary occasions, he was
eminent for punctuality. He had testified great eagerness to share
in the pleasures of this rehearsal. He was to divide the task with my
brother, and, in tasks like these, he always engaged with peculiar
zeal. His elocution was less sweet than sonorous; and, therefore,
better adapted than the mellifluences of his friend, to the outrageous
vehemence of this drama.

What could detain him? Perhaps he lingered through forgetfulness. Yet
this was incredible. Never had his memory been known to fail upon even
more trivial occasions. Not less impossible was it, that the scheme had
lost its attractions, and that he staid, because his coming would afford
him no gratification. But why should we expect him to adhere to the
minute?

An half hour elapsed, but Pleyel was still at a distance. Perhaps he had
misunderstood the hour which had been proposed. Perhaps he had conceived
that to-morrow, and not to-day, had been selected for this purpose:
but no. A review of preceding circumstances demonstrated that such
misapprehension was impossible; for he had himself proposed this day,
and this hour. This day, his attention would not otherwise be occupied;
but to-morrow, an indispensible engagement was foreseen, by which all
his time would be engrossed: his detention, therefore, must be owing
to some unforeseen and extraordinary event. Our conjectures were vague,
tumultuous, and sometimes fearful. His sickness and his death might
possibly have detained him.

Tortured with suspense, we sat gazing at each other, and at the path
which led from the road. Every horseman that passed was, for a moment,
imagined to be him. Hour succeeded hour, and the sun, gradually
declining, at length, disappeared. Every signal of his