548 MISADVENTURES OF A LOVER. 



the attributes of my singular love that it comes on me very often all 

 at once. I have often wondered as much at this as at any thing in 

 the philosophy of my loves. In the present instance I did not mar- 

 vel in the least. The matchless beauty of the young lady, and the 

 eloquent blush which reddened her cheek when her eye met mine, 

 might have reached the heart of tiie most inveterate bachelor that 

 ever lived. 



It was on a beautiful evening in the end of August that I first en- 

 countered the heavenly countenance of Louisa. The luminary of day 

 was setting at the moment. He was pouring streams of yellow ra- 

 diance in all directions, excepting where any hill, or house, or tree, 

 or other opaque object obstructed his beams. The full tide of his 

 golden splendour was then being poured on the divine face of the 

 peerless beauty before me. I do not know if she observed the effect 

 which the glance I obtained of her had on me ; but / myself know 

 that for some moments after I stood motionless as a statue : I was per- 

 fectly unconscious of my own existence. On recovering my senses, 

 I found she was out of sight; she had vanished like a dream from be- 

 fore my wondering and adoring eyes. I went home. My relations 

 saw that all was not right ; they saw me much more discomposed than 

 ever I had been before. They enquired the cause. I returned my 

 favourite answer, " Nothing surprising." They sought no more : 

 they made their own inferences. In a moment afterwards I heard 

 father whisper into the ear of mother, in answer to some observation 

 of hers, *' O never mind the foolish lad : he has taken some love 

 craze into his head." The remark how true ! Ifelt its truth. It 

 stung me to the quick ; but it was my father who thus sneered at me 

 both for my love and folly, and therefore I took no notice of it. Sup- 

 perless I went'to bed. Sleepless I passed the night. What a night of 

 restlessness! A broiling on Cobbetl's gridiron would have been per- 

 fect luxury compared with what I then suffered from the domination 

 of my violent love for Louisa. O the agonies of absence from her 

 whom one loves, not as the common herd of love, but as / loved. 

 I am desirous of speaking the truth at all times; but, if there be such 

 a thing as degrees in truth, I utter the greatest, the " hugest," truth 

 that ever escaped either my lips or pen when I say that not one 

 fraction of a moment — if a moment be fractional — was the image of 

 the unrivalled Louisa absent from my mind's eye that long long night. 

 Morning did at length come. I rose, performed the vexatious but 

 indispensable operation of shaving, washed my frontispiece and hands, 

 donned my best clothes in the most approved mode I was master of, 

 looked at myself in the reflector, and concluded I had at least a 

 chance with the heart of Louisa. The domicile which she graced, 

 pro tempore, with her presence, was on the banks of the river before 

 alluded to. I longed for another look of Louisa. I panted for an 

 interview with her. The reader will consequently be prepared for 

 the intelligence that to take breakfast was, in all the circumstances of 

 the case, infinitely too insipid and heartless an occupation for me. I 

 sneaked out of the house unobserved by my friends, hied to the river 

 S , and promenaded its banks, opposite to where Louisa taber- 

 nacled, the whole blessed day. I had not been missed at home many 



