them, if she did.

I marked, with pained attention, the warm glow of expectation so soon to
be blighted; and, reflected deeply on the many heart-aches with which
they must unlearn their errors. I saw that each one was likely to pass
over and reject the richest blessing of earth, even in the very pursuing
of it, from having merely sketched, in imagination, an unresembling
portrait of the object of pursuit. "When friendship meets them," I said,
"they will not know her. Can no one draw for them a better likeness?"

It is the language of books, and the language of society, that friends
are inconstant, and friendship but little to be depended on; and the
belief, where it is really received, goes far to make a truth of that
which else were false, by creating what it suspects. Few of us but have
lived already long enough to know the bitterness of being disappointed
in our affections, and deceived in our calculations by those with whom,
in the various relationships of life, we are brought in contact. Perhaps
the aggregate of pain from this cause is greater than from any other
cause whatever. And yet, it is much to be doubted whether nearly the
whole of this suffering does not arise from our own unreasonable and
mistaken expectations. There are none so unfortunate but they meet with
some kindness in the world; and none, I believe, so fortunate but that
they meet with much less than they might do, were it not their own
fault.

In the first place, we are mistaken in our expectations that friendship
should be disinterested. It neither is, nor can be. It may be so in
action, but never in the sentiment; there is always an equivalent to be
returned. And if we examine the movements of our own hearts, we must be
sure this is the case; and yet, we are so unreasonable as to expect our
friends should be purely disinterested; and, after having secured their
affections, we neglect to pay the price, and expect they should be
continued to us for nothing. We grow careless of pleasing them;
inconsiderate of their feelings, and heedless of the government of our
own temper towards them; and then we complain of inconstancy, if they
like us not so well as when dressed out in our best for the reception of
their favor. Yet it is, in fact, we that are changed, not they.

Another fruitful source of disappointment in our attachments is, that
while we are much more quick in detecting the faults of others than our
own, we absurdly require that every on