is visitor tended to heighten them, by producing an appearance of
inexplicableness and mystery. At this time he intimated to me that it
was not agreeable to him, that there should be much intercourse between
me and this gentleman.

What could I do? Young as I was, could it be expected that I should play
the philosopher, and put a perpetual curb upon my inclinations?
Imprudent though I had been, could I voluntarily subject myself to an
eternal penance, and estrangement from human society? Could I discourage
a frankness so perfectly in consonance with my wishes, and receive in an
ungracious way a kindness that stole away my heart?

Besides this, I was but ill prepared for the servile submission Mr.
Falkland demanded. In early life I had been accustomed to be much my own
master. When I first entered into Mr. Falkland's service, my personal
habits were checked by the novelty of my situation, and my affections
were gained by the high accomplishments of my patron. To novelty and its
influence, curiosity had succeeded: curiosity, so long as it lasted, was
a principle stronger in my bosom than even the love of independence. To
that I would have sacrificed my liberty or my life; to gratify it, I
would have submitted to the condition of a West Indian negro, or to the
tortures inflicted by North American savages. But the turbulence of
curiosity had now subsided.

As long as the threats of Mr. Falkland had been confined to generals, I
endured it. I was conscious of the unbecoming action I had committed,
and this rendered me humble. But, when he went further, and undertook to
prescribe to every article of my conduct, my patience was at an end. My
mind, before sufficiently sensible to the unfortunate situation to which
my imprudence had reduced me, now took a nearer and a more alarming view
of the circumstances of the case. Mr. Falkland was not an old man; he
had in him the principles of vigour, however they might seem to be
shaken; he might live as long as I should. I was his prisoner; and what
a prisoner! All my actions observed; all my gestures marked. I could
move neither to the right nor the left, but the eye of my keeper was
upon me. He watched me; and his vigilance was a sickness to my heart.
For me there was no more freedom, no more of hilarity, of
thoughtlessness, or of youth. Was this the life upon which I had entered
with such warm and sanguine expectation? Were my days to be wasted in
this cheerless gloom; a galley-slav