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him. There is a pleasure (we sing not to the
profane) far beyond the reach of all that the
world counts joy-a deep, enduring satisfaction
in the depths, where the superficial seek it
not, of discontent. Were we to recite one half
of this mystery, which we were let into by
our late dissatisfaction, all the world would be
in love with disrespect; we should wear a
slight for a bracelet, and neglects and contu-
macies would be the only matter for courtship.
Unlike to that mysterious book in the Apo-
calypse, the study of this mystery is unpalatable
only in the commencement. The first sting
of a suspicion is grievous; but wait-out of
that wound, which to flesh and blood seemed
so difficult, there is balm and honey to be
extracted. Your friend passed you on such
or such a day,-having in his company one
that you conceived worse than ambiguously
disposed towards you,-passed you in the street
without notice. To be sure he is something
short-sighted; and it was in your power to
have accosted him. But facts and sane infer-
ences are trifles to a true adept in the science
of dissatisfaction. He must have seen you;
and S, who was with him, must have been
the cause of the contempt. It galls you, and
well it may. But have patience. Go home,
and make the worst of it, and you are a made
man from this time Shut yourself up, and-
rejecting, as an enemy to your peace, every
whispering suggestion that but insinuates there
may be a mistake-reflect seriously upon the
many lesser instances which you had begun to
perceive, in proof of your friend's disaffection
towards you. None of them singly was much
to the purpose, but the aggregate weight is
positive; and you have this last affront to
clench them. Thus far the process is anything
but agreeable. But now to your relief comes.
in the comparative faculty. You conjure up
all the kind feelings you have had for your
friend; what you have been to him, and what
you would have been to him, if he would have
suffered you; how you defended him in this
or that place; and his good name-his literary
reputation, and so forth, was always dearer to
you than your own! Your heart, spite of itself,
yearns towards him. You could weep tears of
blood but for a restraining pride. How say
you! do you not yet begin to apprehend a
comfort? some allay of sweetness in the bitter | S

waters? Stop not here, nor penuriously cheat yourself of your reversions.-You are on vantage ground. Enlarge your speculations, and take in the rest of your friends, as a spark kindles more sparks. Was there one among them, who has not to you proved hollow, false, slippery as water? Begin to think that the relation itself is inconsistent with mortality. That the very idea of friendship, with its component parts, as honour, fidelity, steadiness, exists but in your single bosom. Image yourself to yourself, as the only possible friend in a world incapable of that communion. Now the gloom thickens. The little star of self-love twinkles, that is to encourage you through deeper glooms than this. You are not yet at the half point of your elevation. You are not yet, believe me, half sulky enough. Adverting to the world in general, (as these circles in the mind will spread to infinity,) reflect with what strange injustice you have been treated in quarters where (setting gratitude and the expectation of friendly returns aside as chimeras) you pretended no claim beyond justice, the naked due of all men. Think the very idea of right and fit fled from the earth, or your breast the solitary receptacle of it, till you have swelled yourself into at least one hemisphere; the other being the vast Arabia Stony of your friends and the world aforesaid. To grow bigger every moment in your own conceit, and the world to lessen; to deify yourself at the expense of your species; to judge the world -this is the acme and supreme point of your mystery-these the true PLEASURES of SULKINESS. We profess no more of this grand secret than what ourself experimented on one rainy afternoon in the last week, sulking in our study. We had proceeded to the penultimate point, at which the true adept seldom stops, where the consideration of benefit forgot is about to merge in the meditation of general injustice-when a knock at the door was followed by the entrance of the very friend whose not seeing of us in the morning, (for we will now confess the case our own,) an accidental oversight, had given rise to so much agreeable generalisation! To mortify us still more, and take down the whole flattering superstructure which pride had piled upon neglect, he had brought in his hand the identical in whose favour we had suspected

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him of the contumacy. Asseverations were needless, where the frank manner of them both was convictive of the injurious nature of the suspicion. We fancied that they perceived our embarrassment; but were too proud, or something else, to confess to the secret of it. We had been but too lately in the condition of the noble patient in Argos:

:

Qui se credebat miros audire tragœdos,
In vacuo lætus sessor plausorque theatro-

and could have exclaimed with equal reason against the friendly hands that cured us

Pol, me occidistis, amici,

Non servâstis, ait; cui sic extorta voluptas, Et demptus per vim mentis gratissimus error.

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