Aix la Chapelle, for no better purpose than merely to put him into a mad freak or two, and there an end. It is true, he swore a great many bitter oaths that he would sooner tear his tongue from his mouth, and his heart from his bosom, than suffer one to speak or the other to dictate a single syllable that could betray the folly of loving one whose family undeservedly despised him. But does not the reader know that this was rather what he uttered, than what it was in his power to put in practice. Was he not a lover?

Did not the positive confirmation of that fact take its date from the business of Aix la Chapelle? And could any thing he afterwards said or thought be considered in any other light than as the declaration of a maniac, who, in the midst of a paroxism, tells you he is in his right senses? The injunction he laid upon his tongue was well enough, and I question whether the threatened mutilation, or something like it, might not have followed its infringement. But as to his heart! Lord help the poor man! It was about as much in his power to direct that, as it would be for a miser to prevail upon himself to give a poor wretch a guinea whom he saw expiring for want.
In short, we see him prancing about from one wretched object to another, and persuading, amusing, interesting, wheedling, and coaxing this same heart into all the amusements for which such kind of men directors are worthily formed; and to be sure I cannot deny but this master of his had much pleasure in this sort of employment:—but this made no difference: it repaid him with interest the moment it was unoccupied, and even brought up these very actions to support its arguments, crastily suggesting that if there was such rich delight in lessening the burden of our fellow creatures's misery alone, how exquisitely would the delight be heightened

by sharing that task with the object of one's affection.
It was in one of those moments that his heart had been dictating to him in this arrogant style, when Emma stood before him. His astonishment was excessive.
'Good God,' said he, 'Emma'—and then recollecting himself, 'what brought you here?'

'I come Mr. Hazard,' said Emma, 'ambassadress from the court of love, upon busiress of importance, and I am determined to carry away with me a catagorical answer.'

'Stay,' said Charles; 'if the investigation of Sir Sidney's conduct, and