'Life nothing blighter or darker can bring;' when 'Joy has no balm, and affliction no sting?' "It is very true that you think now, because Selina's pursuits have hitherto been similar to yours, that her character must likewise be in sympathy with yours. But, though I grant that it appears so now, I deny that it is in any way so formed as to be safely depended on. She is very young and very docile; and, believe me, her disposition, chameleon-like, will, most probably, take the shade of whomsoever she associates with:--'_Dimmi con chi vai, e vi diso quel che fai_[6].' You say, if you were her husband you would be her guide; and that similitude of character, now faintly traced, would be confirmed for ever. But without dwelling on the argument, that your own is yet scarcely formed, let me remind you, that Selina is even still more ignorant of the world than yourself. Let me ask you, even in this moment of unrestrained passion, would you consent to accept that dear innocent girl's hand, without a certainty that with it you received her heart? And how could you be certain of her affection, till time and experience, by maturing her judgment, had confirmed her feelings? How, Augustus, would you support the conviction, nay the bare suspicion, that when, as your wife, you first introduced her to that world from which she has hitherto lived so totally secluded, she should meet with another, whom she even thought she could have preferred to you; and, while you continued to gaze on her with the eye of tenderest love, you found your heart's warm offering received with the cold petrifying glance of indifference? You shudder at the very thought. Think, then, how the arrow that wounded you would be doubly sharpened, if the slanderous tooth of envy galled your fair fame, by accusing you of having secured to yourself Sir Henry Seymour's property by marrying his heiress, before the poor girl was old enough to judge for herself. What, then, my dear boy," said Mr. Temple, grasping his hand with a fervour almost paternal, whilst his eyes swam in tears, "What, then, Augustus, is the result of these observations, more painful to me to make than to you to hear? You acknowledge you would not even wish to marry Selina under these existing circumstances. What then is your misery? Look at it boldly in the face; and, trust me, few are the anticipated evils of life, which, by being steadily gazed at, do not dwindle into insignificance. Lord Eltondale has proposed his son to be Miss Seymour's husband; and the match is sufficiently desirable, in a worldly point of view, to obtain Sir Henry Seymour's consent. But Selina, you say, knows nothing of it yet, and has never seen Mr. Elton. What then does it all come to? Why, when she does see him, if she does not like him, do you think her father would force her to marry him? and if she should like him, would you accept her hand, even if it were offered to you?"