ible? Janet, who had--mercy on me! I threw myself on
the bed, and there I remained till the next morning in a state most
pitiable.

It is only those who have been deceived in their first attachment who
can appreciate my agony of feeling. For the first few hours I hated the
whole world, and, had then the means been at hand, should in all
probability have hastened into another; but gradually my excitement
abated; I found relief in tears of sorrow and indignation. I arose at
daylight the next morning, worn out with contending feelings, heavy and
prostrated in mind. I went out--stood on the beach, the keen breeze
cooled my fevered cheek. For hours I leaned motionless upon an anchor,
all hope of future happiness abandoned forever.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Which is all about Love--Bramble confides to me all his
Acquaintance with the tender Passion.

To conceal from Bramble or Bessy the state of mind to which I was
reduced was impossible. I was in a condition of prostration against
which I could not rally; and I believe that there never was a person who
had been disappointed in his first love who did not feel as I did--that
is, if he really loved with a sincere, pure, and holy feeling; for I do
not refer to the fancied attachments of youth, which may be said to be
like the mere flaws of wind which precede the steady gale. I could not,
for several days, trust myself to speak; I sat silent and brooding over
the words, the looks, the smiles, the scenes which had promised me a
store of future happiness--such as would probably have been the case, as
far as we can be happy in this world, had I fixed my affections upon a
true and honest, instead of a fickle and vain, woman; had I built my
house upon a rock, instead of one upon the sand--which, as pointed out
by the Scriptures, had been washed away, and had disappeared forever!
Bramble and Bessy in vain attempted to gain from me the cause of my
dejection; I believe that they had many conversations upon it when I was
absent, but whatever may have been their surmises, they treated me with
every kindness and consideration. About a week after I had received the
letter, Bramble said to me, "Come, Tom, we have had an easterly wind for
ten days now, they are going off in a galley to-morrow--suppose we go
too; it's no use staying here moping and doing nothing. You've been out
of sorts lately, and it will do you good." I thought so too, and
consented; but the other pilots w