t seems, that my difficulties are
owin; and I pay for not being a sly sinner, an hypocrite; for being
regardless of my reputation; for permittin slander to open its mouth
against me. But is it necessary for such a one as I, who have been used
to carry all before me, upon my own terms--I, who never inspired a fear,
that had not a discernibly-predominant mixture of love in it, to be a
hypocrite?--Well says the poet:

He who seems virtuous does but act a part;
And shews not his own nature, but his art.

Well, but it seems I must practise for this art, if it would succeed
with this truly-admirable creature; but why practise for it?--Cannot
I indeed reform?--I have but one vice;--Have I, Jack?--Thou knowest my
heart, if any man living does. As far as I know it myself, thou knowest
it. But 'tis a cursed deceiver; for it has many a time imposed upon its
master--Master, did I say? That I am not now; nor have I been from the
moment I beheld this angel of a woman. Prepared indeed as I was by her
character before I saw her: For what a mind must that be, which,
though not virtuous itself, admires not virtue in another?--My visit
to Arabella, owing to a mistake of the sister, into which, as thou hast
heard me say, I was led by the blundering uncle; who was to introduce
me (but lately come from abroad) to the divinity, as I thought; but,
instead of her, carried me to a mere mortal. And much difficulty had I,
so fond and forward my lady! to get off without forfeiting all with a
family I intended should give me a goddess.

I have boasted that I was once in love before:--and indeed I thought
I was. It was in my early manhood--with that quality jilt, whose
infidelity I have vowed to revenge upon as many of the sex as shall come
into my power. I believe, in different climes, I have already
sacrificed an hecatomb to my Nemesis, in pursuance of this vow. But upon
recollecting what I was then, and comparing it with what I find myself
now, I cannot say that I was ever in love before.

What was it then, dost thou ask me, since the disappointment had such
effects upon me, when I found myself jilted, that I was hardly kept in
my senses?--Why, I'll grant thee what, as near as I can remember; for
it was a great while ago:--It was--Egad, Jack, I can hardly tell what
it was--but a vehement aspiration after a novelty, I think. Those
confounded poets, with their terrenely-celestial descriptions, did as
much with me as the lady: they fired my ima