CHAPTER VI.

Love is a fubtle Arguer.

WE who are hiftorians of fiction have a

privilege that hiftorians of fact do not

enjoy, which, like the ring of Gyges, gives us the power of invifibility, by which we infinuate ourselves most completely into the fecrets of our heroes and heroines, and instead of arguing, as our unendowed brethren do, from records and authorities, up to the thoughts and characters of our actors, which at best is but an uncertain kind of guefs-work, we can go point-blank to their hearts, in spite of all the obliquities of words and actions, and give to our readers the idea in embryo before it has been brought to the birth, or ever mounted to the lips. In virtue of this privilege I shall let Fanny Claypole go, as her meditations may eafily be gueffed at, and remain with the lovely Ifabella, whofe thoughts are probably more deep, and undoubtedly more interefting.

As foon as she was alone, she began to take a ftrict review of what had been her state of

mind and temper during the foregoing scene: the first reflection that occurred to her was of the felf-accufing fort; fhe had acted with duplicity." Have I not permitted Fanny to conclude that Henry is indifferent to me? and 'is he?"-To this her heart replied that he was not. Her next reproach was for the coldnefs and referve with which fhe had met the warmth of Fanny's friendly confidence:"I hate myfelf for that," fhe faid; "it looks fo like what I deteft and difavow, pride and difdain."Here fhe paufed, and began to call over, as near as memory enabled her, the very words fhe hall ufed in her paft difcourfe with her friend. Her faults did not appear fo glaring upon this review; her filence with refpect to Flenty did hot ftrike her as fo direct a breach of that frank fincerity which was her nature; he did not fee the obligation fhe was under to make difcovery of impreflions, the reality of which fhe was not yet affured of: why fhould Fanny's levity, who faid every thing at random that was uppermoft in her thoughts, draw her into the like idle vein of talking ?"If fhe will pronounce upon my infenfibility, it is not I that lead her into the mistake, nor am I fure it was my bufinefs to lead her out

of

of it."-She now commenced a ftricter examination of her heart, infpected it with a feverer eye, and found, or thought the found, fome cause to fufpect it of jealoufy, a baneful paffion." Oh horrible !" fhe cried, "what's this that I discover? this pang I never felt before! this difpofition to repine and murmur at another's happinefs! Hateful propenfity! I'll banish it at once; it makes me mean and loathfome to myself. Why cou'd not I be well content when fhe was pleased? why figh and vex myself, and love her lefs than ever I did before, because she fat with Henry, and engross'd him to herfelf? I'll call her back, and tell her I admire her generous, her difinterested paffion; nay, I'll do more, I'll go and be her advocate with him fhe loves; that will be noble, that will be a gallant conqueft over myself; and she deferves him, she will marry him; fhe has the happy privilege of chufing. for herfelf; I am Alas! I know not what I am; but this I know, I am not quite fo defperate and romantic as to facrifice myfelf, and be officious in her caufe, and fo, perhaps, give Henry just offence, and yet do her no fervice: no, that won't do; I am not bound to go fo far as that, nay, I am fenfible I cannot alas!

alas!

alas! I but deceive myself; the more I look into myself the more diffatisfied I am with what I fee: I find my heart incapable of generosity; it is not what it was. I will not injure Fanny, or betray her, but I perceive I cannot be her friend."

Ah Isabella! dear ingenuous girl, you fee the point which honour fain would reach, but do not fee the interpofing paffion that diverts it from his courfe. This night you must wear out in fleepless meditations; within the region of your heart there's one at work, whose innovating fpirit never rests till it has perplexed the reafon, overturned the peace, tampered with the loyalty, and fhook the bofom's lord upon his throne. Love is that fubtle dark incendiary, which unexperienced candour has no guard against he wears a foft alluring fmile, flatters in gentle whifpers, wooes you to pleafure, vexes you with no complaint, is focial, gay, familiar, void of care; charmed by his artful approaches you admit him of your parties, make him your inmate, and lodge him in your bofom; then the turmoil begins, then all his fpecious qualities are feen no more; unfocial, murmuring, difcontented, he begins to brood upon his schemes, fhunning the face of man.

and day, renouncing food and fleep, hiding himself in dark and folitary places, till all is anarchy, mifrule and madness, to the destruction both of heart and brain.

Ah Ifabella! dear ingenuous girl, there was a time when you would have entertained this openness of heart, this frank confeffion of your friend with heart as open, confidence as frank; you would have given her warm difinterested paffion then a noble name, encouraged it with your applause, promoted it with all your power; but jealousy, that fierce and active partisan of love, will not permit thefe energies of native generosity to have their play; it is a monopolizing miser that will let no partner have an interest in that stake at which it fingly grafps, and often, in the zeal of competition, overrates the prize which it would fain engross. This probably was not its error in the cafe of Henry; but though the rivalship of Fanny could not easily give more than its true value to the object in difpute, yet, doubtless, it excited fenfations in Ifabella's bofom, which, had they not been ftirred fo roughly, might have enjoyed a longer calm; the passion, which she faw reflected from the fond eyes of Fanny, quickened her curiofity to fcrutinize the en