unsophisticated passions, rendered me to Mr. Forester a most desirable
hearer. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that every day rendered
our intercourse more intimate and cordial.

Mr. Falkland was destined to be for ever unhappy; and it seemed as if no
new incident could occur, from which he was not able to extract food for
this imperious propensity. He was wearied with a perpetual repetition of
similar impressions; and entertained an invincible disgust against all
that was new. The visit of Mr. Forester he regarded with antipathy. He
was scarcely able to look at him without shuddering; an emotion which
his guest perceived, and pitied as the result of habit and disease,
rather than of judgment. None of his actions passed unremarked; the most
indifferent excited uneasiness and apprehension. The first overtures of
intimacy between me and Mr. Forester probably gave birth to sentiments
of jealousy in the mind of my master. The irregular, variable character
of his visitor tended to heighten them, by producing an appearance of
inexplicableness and mystery. At this time he intimated to me that it
was not agreeable to him, that there should be much intercourse between
me and this gentleman.

What could I do? Young as I was, could it be expected that I should play
the philosopher, and put a perpetual curb upon my inclinations?
Imprudent though I had been, could I voluntarily subject myself to an
eternal penance, and estrangement from human society? Could I discourage
a frankness so perfectly in consonance with my wishes, and receive in an
ungracious way a kindness that stole away my heart?

Besides this, I was but ill prepared for the servile submission Mr.
Falkland demanded. In early life I had been accustomed to be much my own
master. When I first entered into Mr. Falkland's service, my personal