species. He had to reconcile himself as well as to invite me; not to
reconcile himself to the postponing an aristocratical vanity, for of
that he had a very slender portion, but to the trouble of invitation,
for he loved his ease. All this produced some irregularity and
indecision in his own mind, and gave a whimsical impression to his
behaviour.

On my part, I was by no means ungrateful for the distinction that was
paid me. My mind had been relaxed into temporary dejection, but my
reserve had no alloy of moroseness or insensibility. It did not long
hold out against the condescending attentions of Mr. Forester. I became
gradually heedful, encouraged, confiding. I had a most eager thirst for
the knowledge of mankind; and though no person perhaps ever purchased so
dearly the instructions he received in that school, the inclination was
in no degree diminished. Mr. Forester was the second man I had seen
uncommonly worthy of my analysis, and who seemed to my thoughts, arrived
as I was at the end of my first essay, almost as much deserving to be
studied as Mr. Falkland himself. I was glad to escape from the
uneasiness of my reflections; and, while engaged with this new friend, I
forgot the criticalness of the evils with which I was hourly menaced.

Stimulated by these feelings, I was what Mr. Forester wanted, a diligent
and zealous hearer, I was strongly susceptible of impression; and the
alternate impressions my mind received, visibly displayed themselves in
my countenance and gestures. The observations Mr. Forester had made in
his travels, the set of opinions he had formed, all amused and
interested me. His manner of telling a story, or explaining his
thoughts, was forcible, perspicuous, and original: his style in
conversation had an uncommon zest. Every thing he had to relate
delighted me; while, in return, my sympathy, my eager curiosity, and my