380 UEXKY KIRKE WHITE S EEMAINS. 



boyhood, and come to my maturer years. I had scarcely 

 seen twenty summers when I formed one of those extra- 

 vagant and ardent attachments of which youth is so sus- 

 ceptible. It happened that, at that time, I bore arms un- 

 der the emperor Theodosius in his expedition against the 

 Gotbs, who had overrun a part of Thrace. In our return 

 from a successful campaign we staid some time in the 

 Greek cities which border on the Euxine, In one of these 

 cities I became acquainted with a female, whose form was 

 not more elegant than her mind was cultivated and her 

 heart untainted. I had done her family some trivial ser- 

 vices, andhergratitude spoke too warmly tomy intoxicated 

 brain to leave any doubt on my mind that she loved me. 

 The idea was too exquisitely pleasing to be soon dismissed. 

 [ sought overy occasion of being with her. Her mild per- 

 suasive voice seemed like the music of heaven to my ears, 

 after the toils and roughness of a soldier's life. I had 

 a friend too, whose converse, next to that of the dear ob- 

 ject of my secret love, was most dear to me. He formed 

 the third in all our meetings, and beyond the enjoyment 

 of the society of these two I had not a wish. I had never 

 yet spoken explicitly to my female friend, but I fondly 

 hoped we understood each other. Why should I dwell 

 on the subject ? I was mistaken. My friend threw him- 

 self on my mercy. I found that he, not I, was the object 

 of her affections. Young man, you may conceive, but I 

 cannot describe what I felt, as I joined their hands. The 

 stroke was severe, and, for a time, unfitted me for the 

 duties of my station. I suffered the army to leave the 

 place without accompanying it : and thus lost the rewards 

 of my past services, and forfeited the favour of my sove- 

 reign. This was another source of anxiety and regret 

 to me, as my mind recovered its wonted tone. But the 

 mind of youth, however deeply it may feel for a while, 

 eventually rises up from dejection, and regains its wonted 

 elasticity. That vigour by which the spirit recovers itself 

 from the depths of useless regret, and enters upon new 

 prospects with its accustomed ardour, is only subdued by 

 time. I now applied myself to the study of philosophy, 

 uiider a Greek master, and all my ambition was directed 



