ameless as I was, how well I can recall the exaggerated
ambition, nay, the certainty of success, as well as its desire, which
then burned within me. I smile now at the overweening vanity of those
hopes,--some, indeed, realized, but how many nipped and withered
forever! seeds, of which a few fell upon rich ground and prospered,
but of which how far the greater number were scattered: some upon the
wayside, and were devoured by immediate cares; some on stony places, and
when the sun of manhood was up they were scorched, and because they had
no root withered away; and some among thorns, and the thorns sprang up
and choked them. I am now rich, honoured, high in the favour of courts,
and not altogether unknown or unesteemed arbitrio popularis aurae:
and yet I almost think I was happier when, in that flush of youth and
inexperience, I looked forth into the wide world, and imagined that from
every corner would spring up a triumph for my vanity or an object for my
affections. The next time I stood in this little spot, I was no longer
the dependant of a precarious charity, or the idle adventurer who had
no stepping-stone but his ambition. I was then just declared the heir of
wealth, which I could not rationally have hoped for five years before,
and which was in itself sufficient to satisfy the aspirings of ordinary
men. But I was corroded with anxieties for the object of my love, and
regret for the friend whom I had lost: perhaps the eagerness of my
heart for the one rendered me, for the moment, too little mindful of
the other; but, in after years, memory took ample atonement for that
temporary suspension of her duties. How often have I recalled, in this
world of cold ties and false hearts, that true and generous friend, from
whose lessons my mind took improvement, and from whose warnings example;
who was to me, living, a father, and from whose generosity whatever
worldly advantages I have enjoyed or distinctions I have gained are
derived! Then I was going, with a torn yet credulous heart, to pour
forth my secret and my passion to her, and, within one little week
thence, how shipwrecked of all hope, object, and future happiness I was!
Perhaps, at that time, I did not sufficiently consider the excusable
cautions of the world: I should not have taken such umbrage at her
father's letter; I should have revealed to him my birth and accession of
fortune; nor bartered the truth of certain happiness for the trials and
manoeuvres of romance