He had by dint of application to the principles of the language, and a talent for acquiring it, gained a tolerable knowledge of the Portuguese, and at this time he held a situation which exempted him in a degree from military duty, and left him time to associate with some of the inhabitants who were fond of his conversation, and felt friendly towards him. It was by this means he became acquainted with a female whose charms had captivated him. She was niece to one of the principal inhabitants, and about fifteen or sixteen years of age. In her he imagined he had found the long cherished ideal mistress of his soul, on whom he had lavished more accomplishments and perfections than would have made an angel in our degenerate days. I was, of course, his confidant, and certainly, of all I had ever heard or read of love’s extravagance, I witnessed it in him. He could neither eat nor sleep; every spare moment that he had was spent on a small eminence opposite the house where she lived, gazing at the windows, in hopes to catch a glance at her; here he would sit luxuriating in all the wild uncertainty of hope, anticipation, and despair, which lovers commonly indulge in, and although his familiarity with the family might have gained him access to her company any time he pleased, he grew diffident of visiting them, and even shrunk from the idea of speaking to herself on the subject. He poured all his doubts and hopes in my ear, and he could not have found one to whom they were more interesting. Of the same romantic temperament, I shared in all his sensations. Seeing the state of mind in which he was placed by his violent attachment, I recommended him strongly that he should endeavour to gain an interview, and speak to her on the subject; but he considered this impracticable, as the sight of her never failed to agitate him in such a manner, that it robbed him of all power of utterance. Thus situated, and willing to render my friend a service, through my interest with a family whom she was in the habit of visiting, I brought about an interview between the parties; and here, for the first time, I saw Maria. She was certainly a very pretty, good-humoured, lively girl, but in my opinion very far indeed from the paragon of perfection which Henry was inclined to think her; but I felt not the magic influence of that power, which, like the philosopher’s stone, can transmute the baser metals into gold. Little satisfaction accrued to Henry from this meeting, but it subsequently led to others in which the parties came to a mutual explanation, and he had reason to hope that he was not regarded by her with indifference. From this time their interviews were more frequent and less guarded; and visiting her aunt frequently, although he could not converse freely with Maria, still their eyes, which ‘looked unutterable things,’ were not sufficiently restrained, and the old lady began to suspect the truth; the tattle