might pursue his voyage of discovery in quest of true love,
and enjoy temporary triumphs by the way. He was "constantly
the victim of some fair enslaver " - at least, when it was
not the other way about; and there were often underplots and
secondary fair enslavers in the background. Many - or may we
not say most? - of these affairs were entirely artificial.
One, he tells us, he began out of "a vanity of showing his
parts in courtship," for he piqued himself on his ability at
a love-letter. But, however they began, these flames of his
were fanned into a passion ere the end; and he stands
unsurpassed in his power of self-deception, and positively
without a competitor in the art, to use his own words, of
"battering himself into a warm affection," - a debilitating
and futile exercise. Once he had worked himself into the
vein, "the agitations of his mind and body" were an
astonishment to all who knew him. Such a course as this,
however pleasant to a thirsty vanity, was lowering to his
nature. He sank more and more towards the professional Don
Juan. With a leer of what the French call fatuity, he bids
the belles of Mauchline beware of his seductions; and the
same cheap self-satisfaction finds a yet uglier vent when he
plumes himself on the scandal at the birth of his first
bastard. We can well believe what we hear of his facility in
striking up an acquaintance with women: he would have
conquering manners; he would bear down upon his rustic game
with the grace that comes of absolute assurance - the
Richelieu of Lochlea or Mossgiel. In yet another manner did
these quaint ways of courtship help him into fame. If he
were great as principal, he was unrivalled as confidant. He
could enter into a passion; he could counsel wary moves,