raise himself in her favourable estimation was the only means, he felt persuaded, by which he might aspire to the affections of her heart; and the greater the resistance he met with, the greater was his desire to obtain them,
"As all impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy."
Daily perplexed between love and ambition, he was sensible of many a secret conflict. Sometimes he thought to subdue his flame, to fly from its object, and to see her no more. But such was the instability of his resolutions, that as soon as formed, so soon they were vanquished: and again, when led to seek her presence, a thousand times he felt tempted to throw his fortunes at her feet, and solicit her hand in marriage.
His self-love, however, again interposing, considering marriage as a traffic: "And what," he asked himself, "am I to gain in exchange for what I give? Not even the certainty of possessing her heart,—a form of loveliness, but a form divested of its life,—those love-beaming principles existing no doubt, but not as yet for me: and if thus to dispose of myself, thus to relinquish other considerations ever held in such high value by me, I ought at least to meet a compensation, a return of sentiment. I must be loved for myself alone, and that such is the case, I must, before I make an offer, obtain the most unequivocal proof."
As nothing short of this could satisfy him, he still resolved to pursue every stratagem to secure to himself—vain and futile as was the effort,—the affection of
