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Love.
found unworthy. I am convinced it is practicable, when a reſpect for goodneſs has the firſt place in the mind, and notions of perfection are not affixed to conſtancy. Many ladies are delicately miſerable, and imagine that they are lamenting the loſs of a lover, when they are full of ſelf-applauſe, and reflections on their own ſuperior refinement. Painful feelings are prolonged beyond their natural courſe, to gratify our deſire of appearing heroines, and we deceive ourſelves as well as others. When any ſudden ſtroke of fate deprives us of thoſe we love, we may not readily get the better of the blow; but when we find we have
been
