pleasures and pains are the effects of
imagination, and wherever the sensibility is great, the imagination is
great also. No sooner has my imagination raised up an image of pleasure,
than it is sure to conjure up one of distress and gloom; these two
antagonist ideas instantly commence a struggle in my mind, and the gloomy
one generally, I may say invariably, prevails. How is it possible that I
should be a happy man?

"It has invariably been so with me from the earliest period that I can
remember; the first playthings that were given me caused me for a few
minutes excessive pleasure: they were pretty and glittering; presently,
however, I became anxious and perplexed, I wished to know their history,
how they were made, and what of--were the materials precious; I was not
satisfied with their outward appearance. In less than an hour I had
broken the playthings in an attempt to discover what they were made of.

"When I was eight years of age my uncle the baronet, who was also my
godfather, sent me a pair of Norway hawks, with directions for managing
them; he was a great fowler. Oh, how rejoiced was I with the present
which had been made me, my joy lasted for at least five minutes; I would
let them breed, I would have a house of hawks; yes, that I would--but--and
here came the unpleasant idea--suppose they were to fly away, how very
annoying! Ah, but, said hope, there's little fear of that; feed them
well and they will never fly away, or if they do they will come back, my
uncle says so; so sunshine triumphed for a little time. Then the
strangest of all doubts came into my head; I doubted the legality of my
tenure of these hawks; how did I come by them? why, my uncle gave them to
me; but how did they come into his possession? what right had he to them?
after all, they might not be his to give.--I passed a sleepless night.
The next morning I found that the man who brought the hawks had not
departed. 'How came my uncle by these hawks?' I anxiously inquired.
'They were sent to him from Norway, master, with another pair.' 'And who
sent them?' 'That I don't know, master, but I suppose his honour can
tell you.' I was even thinking of scrawling a letter to my uncle to make
inquiry on this point, but shame restrained me, and I likewise reflected
that it would be impossible for him to give my mind entire satisfaction;
it is true he could tell who sent him the hawks, but how was he to know
how the hawks came into the possessio