The seducer having now got his victim in his own power, hurried him through the various stages of vice with almost breathless impetuosity. The theatre, the billiard-room, the tavern, and other places, were alternately visited; and he who a few months before was horror-struck at the sight of a novel, could now occupy the seat of a scorner. But he was not suffered to remain there undisturbed. Conscience would sometimes inflict the most poignant wounds. The thought of home, of his pious father and sister, of the day of judgment, and of his loving mother, drove him at times almost frantic; when, after pronouncing a secret curse on his companion, he would plunge himself deeper in iniquity, that he might gain a momentary relief. To follow him through the course of impiety which he ran for the space of two years, during which time he involved himself in debt and in hopeless misery, would afford the reader no gratification. Disease, which had been for some time destroying his health, and impairing the vigour of his constitution, now incapacitated him for business, and he was obliged to keep to his apartments, which were near those of Mr. Gordon. For several days after his confinement he received no attention from his friend, and that left his mind more at liberty to take the black review. He reproached himself--he reproached the destroyer of his peace--he wept, but he could not pray. He wrote a letter to his pious mother, but he burned it--he wrote another, and burned it. He wrote to his friend, Mr. Jordan, whom he had not seen since he left his house, and, just as he was directing it, the servant announced Mr. Gordon. "Well, George, how are you?" "Ill, very ill, and you are the cause of it!" "I the cause of it!" "Yes, you enticed me from the paths of virtue into the paths of vice, and though I reproach myself for my folly in giving way to your entreaties, yet, Sir, you are the seducer." "Ah! Lewellin, you are got back to the tales of the nursery. Come, come, pluck up your spirits. You will soon get better. What does the doctor say? I was at Drury last night, and never had a finer treat." "The doctor gives me but little hope, and your present conversation gives me less pleasure. If I die, I must appear before my Judge, and am I (wringing his hands) prepared? No!" "Well, then, I will be off, but don't play the fool; die like a man. Phillips says he'll call to see you to-morrow, but I suppose a visit from some of the godly will be more acceptable." "I want a visit from some one who can minister to a mind diseased." "Well, good-bye. But die like a man, if you are doomed to death." He was now left alone, irresolute--alarmed. He rings. "Put that letter in the post immediately." Is more composed. Mr. Jordan called on him next morning, and when he saw him could not refrain from weeping. Lewellin cautiously concealed from him the cause of his illness, but informed him that the doctor gave but little hope of his life.