what I suppose some people would call remorse. Then why do I think about them? Cannot I suppress the recollection of them? No, it is impossible; for whoever yet could check the current of thought, or impose restraints upon conscience? do what we will it forces its way, and sweeps along with it every accursed thing we would fain lose sight of for ever."
After a short pause, he continued: "Have I ever found those hours spent in nocturnal revelry, repay me with that felicity and enjoyment I had expected? Have I not, on the contrary, even at the time when every object around me seemed influenced solely by the joy of the moment, have I not felt disgusted and estranged; whilst secret sighs escaped me, when the idea obtruded itself of the immorality I was guilty of, in seeking the affections of the virtuous Rosilia even when I was rendering myself unworthy of them? And again, when I have seen my depraved companions drop under the table from excess of inebriety, have I reflected upon their irrational beast-like appearance? No! ever dreading the sarcastic smile or sneering ridicule of the fools around me, I have forced the jest, the laugh, or joined in the clamorous or exulting glee. And for what? It might be said that Douglas was the happiest, the most
