gination, and set me upon
a desire to become a goddess-maker. I must needs try my new-fledged
pinions in sonnet, elogy, and madrigal. I must have a Cynthia, a Stella,
a Sacharissa, as well as the best of them: darts and flames, and the
devil knows what, must I give to my cupid. I must create beauty, and
place it where nobody else could find it: and many a time have I been at
a loss for a subject, when my new-created goddess has been kinder than
it was proper for my plaintive sonnet that she should be.

Then I found I had a vanity of another sort in my passion: I found
myself well received among the women in general; and I thought it a
pretty lady-like tyranny [I was then very young, and very vain!] to
single out some one of the sex, to make half a score jealous. And I can
tell thee, it had its effect: for many an eye have I made to sparkle
with rival indignation: many a cheek glow; and even many a fan have I
caused to be snapped at a sister-beauty; accompanied with a reflection
perhaps at being seen alone with a wild young fellow who could not be in
private with both at once.

In short, Jack, it was more pride than love, as I now find it, that put
me upon making such a confounded rout about losing that noble varletess.
I thought she loved me at least as well as I believed I loved her:
nay, I had the vanity to suppose she could not help it. My friends were
pleased with my choice. They wanted me to be shackled: for early did
they doubt my morals, as to the sex. They saw, that the dancing, the
singing, the musical ladies were all fond of my company: For who [I am
in a humour to be vain, I think!]--for who danced, who sung, who touched
the string, whatever the instrument, with a better grace than thy
friend?

I have no notion of playing the hypocrite so egregiously, as to pretend
to be blind to qualifications which every one sees and acknowledges.
Such praise-begetting hypocrisy! Such affectedly disclaimed attributes!
Such contemptible praise-traps!--But yet, shall my vanity extend only
to personals, such as the gracefulness of dress, my debonnaire, and my
assurance?--Self-taught, self-acquired, these!--For my parts, I value
not myself upon them. Thou wilt say, I have no cause.--Perhaps not. But
if I had any thing valuable as to intellectuals, those are not my own;
and to be proud of what a man is answerable for the abuse of, and has
no merit in the right use of, is to strut, like the jay, in borrowed
plumage.

But to