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 was that that return would plunge the object of my love in sorrow.

"But how weak is the mind of man, how frail his best resolves! When I found I had an interest in that tender heart, every idea but of felicity fled from me; and I was tempted to ask you to unite your destiny to mine: a sudden interruption to our conversation alone prevented my doing so. Scarcely however, had I left your presence, ere Reason resumed her empire, and represented the baseness of what I had intended. Shall I then persevere in such an intention? (I cried); shall I take advantage of her tenderness?—shall I requite it by plunging her into difficulties—by transplanting her from the genial soil in which she has flourished, to one of penury?—shall I sink, instead of exalting, my love?—shall I requite the humanity of the father, by blasting the hopes he entertains about his child?—Oh! no, (I exclaimed, maddening at the idea), I will not be such a villain; I will not, Madeline, merit your after-reproaches and my own by such con-