_Philip._ I beg you to bestow upon me. I am unable to give an account
of myself, at every moment, and to every body; but now, and to you, I
feel myself bound to do it.

_Mrs. D._ But, am I prepared for a cold enquiry?

_Philip._ It is not a cold enquiry I ask [with warmth]. Let your
generous friendly mind, [to Augusta] let your pure soul, Augusta, be
the judge.

_Augusta._ Dear Sir!

_Philip._ Well--Fashion, ceremony, all that we will lay aside. Have
some parts of my behaviour here been such as you cannot approve?--it
was by chance only. Nay, there was no one whom I could please, by
behaving otherwise.

_Mrs. D._ We will pass that; though such behaviour takes from the
pleasures of society.

_Philip_ [with warmth]. I have high ideas of the pleasures of society.

_Mrs. D._ And yet you do not contribute your share?

_Philip_ [with agitation]. Ah! there, indeed--

_Mrs. D._ You take delight in misanthropical retirement.

_Philip._ Oh, if you knew my feelings! my good will for mankind, as God
knows it--I--it is hard to need a defence in this particular--But, I
can calmly and truly say, I love mankind. But, if my compassion for
their unhappy fate has been ridiculed, and if this abuse of my dearest
feelings has made me reserved, does it follow that I am a misanthrope?

_Mrs. D._ Mr. Brook!

_Philip._ If my ideas of good company are too refined, too just, too
high, to be satisfied in the slandering circles of coquettes, dunces,
and gamblers, am I to be called unsociable?

_Augusta_ [quickly]. Oh, no, my good friend.

_Philip._ If, in any profession, for which my talents might qualify
me, the best wishes of my heart would be checked by interested
connections--my enthusiasm for suffering mankind, opposed by
uncharitable selfishness--can you blame me for remaining as I am?

_Augusta._ Certainly not.

_Philip._ And now, my ardent zeal for human happiness being mistaken,
the best designs of my heart condemned and overthrown by prejudice and
self-conceit; perceiving that the most admired and virtuous outsides
were too often only masks for hypocrisy--that impure avarice stalked
abroad under the name of philanthrophy--perceiving this, I drew back,
and forgot a flattering dream, of successful attention to the welfare
of all the unfortunate wanderers upon earth.--Yet soon--in one serious
hour, I hope to discharge the debt of a citizen to my native land--in
one hour; yes, only one--but the deed will mark it.--Till tha