observe a bashful lover in company where the object of his affections is
present. He is the very picture of confusion and distress, looking like a
man who has lost something, and knows not where to seek for it. His eyes
wander from the carpet to the ceiling; at one moment he is engaged in
counting the panes in the window, and the next in watching the discursive
flights of a blue-bottle round the apartment. But while he appears
anxiously seeking for some object on which to fix his attention, he
carefully avoids looking towards his _innamorata_; and should their eyes
meet by chance, his cheeks assume the tint of the beet-root or the turnip,
and his manifest embarrassment betrays his secret to the most
inexperienced persons. In order to recover his confidence, he shifts his
seat, which seems suddenly to have shot forth as many pins as the back of
a hedgehog; but in doing so he places the leg of his chair on the toe of a
gouty, cross old uncle, or on the tail of a favourite lap-dog, and,
besides creating an awful _fracas_, succeeds in making inveterate enemies
of the two brutes for the remainder of their lives.

There are some lovers, who show their love by their affected indifference,
and appear smitten by any woman except the one whom they are devoted to.
This is an ingenious stratagem; but in general it is so badly managed,
that it is more easily seen through than a cobweb. Lastly, there are a
select few, who evince their tender regard by perpetual bickerings and
quarrels. This method will frequently mislead inquisitive aunts and
guardians; but it should only be attempted by a man who has full
confidence in his own powers.

Lovers, as I have observed, are invariably objects of ridicule; timid,
jealous, and nervous, a frown throws them into a state of agony it would
be difficult to describe, and a smile bestowed upon a rival breaks their
rest for a week. Only observe one of them engaged in a quiet, interesting