ave not felt at some time or other of
their lives, its influence upon their minds. I fancied my fair companion
did so, for, as she walked beside me, her silence, and the gentle
pressure of her arm, were far more eloquent than words.

If that extraordinary flutter and flurry of sensations which will now and
then seize you, when walking upon a lonely country road with a pretty
girl for your companion, whose arm is linked in yours, and whose
thoughts, as far you can guess at least, are travelling the same path
with your own--if this be animal magnetism, or one of its phenomena, then
do I swear by Mesmer, whatever it be, delusion or otherwise, it has given
me the brightest moments of my life--these are the real "winged dreams"
of pleasures which outlive others of more absorbing and actual interest
at the time. After all, for how many of our happiest feelings are we
indebted to the weakness of our nature. The man that is wise at
nineteen, "Je l'en fais mon compliment," but I assuredly do not envy him;
and now, even now, when I number more years than I should like to
"confess," rather than suffer the suspicious watchfulness of age to creep
on me, I prefer to "go on believing," even though every hour of the day
should show me, duped and deceived. While I plead guilty to this
impeachment, let me show mitigation, that it has its enjoyments--first,
although I am the most constant and devoted man breathing, as a very
cursory glance at these confessions may prove, yet I have never been able
to restrain myself from a propensity to make love, merely as a pastime.
The gambler that sits down to play cards, or hazard against himself, may
perhaps be the only person that can comprehend this tendency of mine. We
both of us are playing for nothing (or love, which I suppose is
synonymous;) we neither of us put forth our strength; for that very
reason, and in fact like the waiter at Vauxhall who was complimented upon
the dexterity with which he poured out the lemonade, and confessed that
he spent his mornings "practising with vater," we pass a considerable
portion of our lives in a mimic warfare, which, if it seem unprofitable,
is, nevertheless, pleasant.

After all this long tirade, need I say how our walk proceeded? We had
fallen into a kind of discussion upon the singular intimacy which had so
rapidly grown up amongst us, and which years long might have failed to
engender. Our attempts to analyse the reasons for, and the nature of t