ortions of time thus laid out,
were some of them set apart to studies of one kind, and others to those
of another: he had some for reflection, conversation, divine service, the
reading of Locke, for his rosary, for visits, music and painting; and
neither pleasure, temptation, nor complaisance, could interrupt this
order: a duty he might have had to discharge was the only thing that
could have done it. When he gave me a list of his distribution, that I
might conform myself thereto, I first laughed, and then shed tears of
admiration. He never constrained anybody nor suffered constraint: he was
rather rough with people, who from politeness, attempted to put it upon
him. He was passionate without being sullen. I have often seen him
warm, but never saw him really angry with any person. Nothing could be
more cheerful than his temper: he knew how to pass and receive a joke;
raillery was one of his distinguished talents, and with which he
possessed that of pointed wit and repartee. When he was animated, he was
noisy and heard at a great distance; but whilst he loudly inveighed, a
smile was spread over his countenance, and in the midst of his warmth he
used some diverting expression which made all his hearers break out into
a loud laugh. He had no more of the Spanish complexion than of the
phlegm of that country. His skin was white, his cheeks finely colored,
and his hair of a light chestnut. He was tall and well made; his body
was well formed for the residence of his mind.

This wise--hearted as well as wise--headed man, knew mankind, and was my
friend; this was my only answer to such as are not so. We were so
intimately united, that our intention was to pass our days together. In
a few years I was to go to Ascoytia to live with him at his estate; every
part of the project was arranged the eve of his departure; nothing was
left undetermined, except that which depends not upon men in the best
concerted plans, posterior events. My disasters, his marriage, and
finally, his death, separated us forever. Some men would be tempted to
say, that nothing succeeds except the dark conspiracies of the wicked,
and that the innocent intentions of the good are seldom or never
accomplished. I had felt the inconvenience of dependence, and took a
resolution never again to expose myself to it; having seen the projects
of ambition, which circumstances had induced me to form, overturned in
their birth. Discouraged in the career I had s