doubtful, and he wisely considered, that did mortality overtake him sooner than he might be aware of, to what would Oriana be exposed—admitting her fidelity to him existed in that fulness her language had painted! In the idea that it might be so, how acute was the anguish thus conveyed! how greatly did he lament that he had not in the earlier stage of his attachment exercised over his affections and inclinations a due command, ere he had involved the destiny of the hapless Oriana with his own! Had he during that fatal season of health and strength, hope and joy, made a timely sacrifice of his feelings, and not have allowed their bright infatuation to dazzle his judgment, what a weight of misery would have been averted, not more from Oriana than himself!
In such afflicting reproaches day succeeded to day, and scarcely was a smile seen to illumine the countenance of the wan and faded Philimore. How truly did the words of the poet apply to his peculiar case, "Day followed day, and night the night: our life is but a chain of many deaths!" A lethargic indolence took possession of him; his studies were neglected; and he who had been remarked for the order and neatness of his apparel, the circumspection of his habits, and agreeable cheerfulness of manners, stood a monument of woe! no trace of his former self visible; constantly pursuing the same unmeaning, dull, monotonous round; half the day in a negligent dishabille; sad and silent; filling always the same seat, in the same corner, occupied apparently with a
