1832.] A Story of the Heart. 685 



How strangely we decide our destiny ! Led by appearances, even mis- 

 led by truth. Yet why arraign the Providence of Heaven ! For we walk 

 like the wayfarer of the desert, when no star is out to guide us. With 

 the blessing of happiness in our hands, we cast it aside and determine on 

 misery ; and when weighed down by the burden of care, we would still 

 seek to be happy : and this, because nothing is desirable we possess, and 

 all to be coveted we can never hope to obtain. Vile weakness of human 

 nature ; that we who would, in truth, believe ourselves perfect, should yet 

 allow ourselves, wilfully and willingly, to be so base ! One would think 

 that " the wisdom of the serpent" the cunning of true selfishness, might 

 teach us selfish peace : if "the gentleness of the dove" the artlessness of 

 true nature, might not teach us disinterested love. As for Delacour, he 

 resolved to be wretched, because he feared to be so ; and then sought to 

 be happy even while resigning his greatest of human good. But what if 

 the affections we feel, or others feel for us, be true or false : the falsehood 

 or the truth may be equally miserable time can alone shew us the reverse. 

 In the mean time the world goes on, and we must go likewise, lest, thrown 

 from the channel broken on the rock of hope while catching at 

 some other or firmer hold than the reed within our grasp lest, finally, 

 we be drifted down the tide of time and left to perish. So Delacour 

 pursued his avocations rushed into society and believed himself con- 

 tented. But the canker of the heart eats not away so soon. If he had any 

 feelings ariy sentiments he had forsworn the better part. As it is never 

 too late for a man to grow wise, so it is never late to love honor. Had he 

 then lived for this ! He remembered his debts of obligation of gratitude 

 to his old friend ; but then he recalled also the prospects that might yet be 

 open to him the increase of wealth his expectations of the future he 

 thought but once and no more ; he hastened into amusements, into dissi- 

 pation, and while he forgot his affection, he forgot himself. Some have 

 remarked that his person became altered, his spirits changed, that it was 

 natural depression and forced hilarity ; but if he ever experienced wretched- 

 ness, or sighed in the full emotion of regret, he was the last to believe that 

 his sorrows, his vexation, his self-reproaches, were of his own creation. 



But a few months had gone by, and another lady caught his attention, 

 of his own years handsome, accomplished, and of desired wealth. He 

 soon imagined himself to be in love, for in false hearts no flame is so easily 

 kindled as false passion ; and the lady was in love with him, just such love 

 as a calculating woman may bestow, who thinks more of herself than of 

 the world beside. She knew, indeed, of no feelings out of the sphere of a 

 drawing-room, or any emotion but such as might lie in the compass of a 

 carriage. Again family, future, friends, and connexions were canvassed, 

 and were found fitting ; again he pictured uninterrupted peace, unclouded 

 days ; again he was in possession of all his dreams 3 again hoped, 

 was again happy ; again constant, again, in fact, a lover. 



Time rolled on and on, and he saw no reason to regret his choice. He 

 became restless, for others were in pursuit of the same prize as himself, 

 and then he grew impatient and more impassioned, and, at length, made 

 his offer, and was successful. He was now more gay than ever more 

 fashionable more splendid. In all public places and private parties he 

 was the acknowledged suitor, and congratulated by his friends on the fortune 

 he would acquire on the conquest he had made ; he was not backward in 

 boasting the favour in which he found himself, in exhibiting the influence 



