certainty would, long ere this, have caused them temporarily to subside into their accustomed channels. You understand little of the human heart, if you cannot conceive this—"Where the imagination is vivid, the feelings strong, the views and desires not bounded by common rules;—in such minds, passions, if not subdued, become ungovernable and fatal: where there is much warmth, much enthusiasm, there is much danger.—My mind is no less ardent than yours, though education and habit may have given it a different turn—it glows with equal zeal to attain its end."11 Yes, I must continue to repeat, there has been in your conduct one grand mistake; and the train of consequences which may, yet, ensue, are uncertain, and threatening.—But, I mean no reproach—we are all liable to errors; and my own, I feel, are many, and various. But to return—

'You may suppose I have revolved, in my thoughts, every possible difficulty on the subject alluded to; balancing their degrees of probability and force:—and, I will frankly confess, such is the sanguine ardour of my temper, that I can conceive but one obstacle, that would be absolutely invincible; which is, supposing that you have already contracted a legal, irrecoverable, engagement. Yet, this I do not suppose. I will arrange, under five heads, (on all occasions, I love to class and methodize) every other possible species of objection, and subjoin all the reasonings which have occurred to me on the subjects.

'And, first, I will imagine, as the most serious and threatening difficulty, that you love another. I would, then, ask—Is she capable of estimating your worth—does she love you—has she the magnanimity to tell you so—would she sacrifice to that affection every meaner consideration—has she the merit to secure, as well as accomplishments to attract, your regard?—You are too well acquainted with the human heart, not to be aware, that what is commonly called love is of a fleeting nature, kept alive only by hopes and fears, if the qualities upon which it is founded afford no basis for its subsiding into tender confidence, and rational esteem. Beauty may inspire a transient desire, vivacity amuse, for a time, by its sportive graces; but the first will quickly fade and grow familiar—the last degenerate into impertinence and insipidity. Interrogate your own heart—Would you not, when the ardour of the passions, and the fervor of the imagination, subsided, wish to find the sensible, intelligent, friend, take place of the engaging mistress?