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FRAGMENT OF A JOURNAL. 



My debts were considerable — wlien I say considerable, I mean 

 Ihey were most extensive. At the very least, two hundred thousand 

 pounds had been squandered away in the most unaccountable man- 

 ner. I never can think upon the time now without feeling a sense 

 of the most confusing shame and regret. I had had experience suf- 

 ficient in the world, more than enough experience to have prevented 

 in every other individual such conduct as that I indulged in. But 

 my character was always different from any other character ; am- 

 bition, boundless, insatiable ambition, was my leading trait. Nothing 

 I thought was too great or too sublime for me. I would follow every 

 frivolous fashion, every changeable mode. I zoould have every 

 luxury gold could procure. I had made Paris my place of abode, 

 and with the advantages of the very best introductions I got into the 

 highest French society. 



1 had a wife. .. . Angelic creature ! Oh! my pen stops ... my 

 hand refuses its office, when I think of her ! . . . . dead and gone ! . . . 

 She was the very pattern of a wife. I think there never existed a more 

 perfect model of Christian meekness and woman-like modesty. 

 Oh ! had I but followed her advice, what would not have been my 

 present fate ! But no ! I was too proud, too self-confident. I trusted 

 only in my own powers ; and liere I am a sad, but just example 

 for all who, like myself, will only be guided by their passions. 



I once knew the joy of a father's heart. It lasted not : in one 

 short year my best hope was cut off. After her infant's death, my 

 beloved Caroline lost all cheerfulness of heart. She sat absorbed in 

 grief, and sought no earthly friend to comfort and console her. 

 •She pined away, and died amidst ruin and desolation, leaving her 

 husband in gaol for debt, and not an heir, not a human being to up- 

 liold the long respected name of Lytton. 



Some months after my beloved wife's death, I was liberated by 

 the insolvent act. No sooner was I free than all the remaining 

 energies of my mind, which had been severely and for ever 

 wounded by all my late misfortunes, I devoted to my favourite pur- 

 suit of money-making. I succeeded ! Wonder upon wonder. I paid 

 my debts! I believe I had one honourable feeling remaining — that 

 zcas lo pay my debts. Good fortune attended all my endeavours. 

 I regained my previous position in life. I renewed my old acquaint- 

 ances. I embraced once more my former mode of life. But my 

 heart had lost all comfort ; I felt a void I had never felt before, 

 and r tried every way, I exhausted every nerve, to find some re- 

 lief to my soul. I have never known love. I have felt many times 

 a sincere attachment to a particular person, but I have never expe- 

 rienced that fatal passion, that bane of human existence, and, yet, 

 without which life, they say, is without a charm. Love! No. I have 

 never wished to love. I have gone throuojh enough of passions, of 

 dreadful gnawings of heart. I never wish for more. My spirit is 

 broken. I am curbed. I am vanquished. 



I was once in company with a chosen set of companions. The ban- 



