My　knowledge　of　Ludloe；　his　principles；　and　reasonings；　ought　to　have　precluded　that　surprise　which　I　experienced　at　the　conclusion　of　his　discourse。　　I　knew　that　he　regarded　the　present　institution　of　marriage　as　a　contract　of　servitude；　and　the　terms　of　it　unequal　and　unjust。　　When　my　surprise　had　subsided；　my　thoughts　turned　upon　the　nature　of　his　scheme。　　After　a　pause　of　reflection；　I　answered：
  Both　law　and　custom　have　connected　obligations　with　marriage；　which；　though　heaviest　on　the　female；　are　not　light　upon　the　male。　Their　weight　and　extent　are　not　immutable　and　uniform；　they　are　modified　by　various　incidents；　and　especially　by　the　mental　and　personal　qualities　of　the　lady。
  I　am　not　sure　that　I　should　willingly　accept　the　property　and　person　of　a　woman　decrepid　with　age；　and　enslaved　by　perverse　habits　and　evil　passions：　　whereas　youth；　beauty；　and　tenderness　would　be　worth　accepting；　even　for　their　own　sake；　and　disconnected　with　fortune。
  As　to　altar　vows；　I　believe　they　will　not　make　me　swerve　from　equity。　　I　shall　exact　neither　service　nor　affection　from　my　spouse。　　The　value　of　these；　and；　indeed；　not　only　the　value；　but　the　very　existence；　of　the　latter　depends　upon　its　spontaneity。　　A　promise　to　love　tends　rather　to　loosen　than　strengthen　the　tie。
  As　to　myself；　the　age　of　illusion　is　past。　　I　shall　not　wed；　till　I　find　one　whose　moral　and　physical　constitution　will　make　personal　fidelity　easy。　　I　shall　judge　without　mistiness　or　passion；　and　habit　will　come　in　aid　of　an　enlightened　and　deliberate　choice。
  I　shall　not　be　fastidious　in　my　choice。　　I　do　not　expect；　and　scarcely　desire；　much　intellectual　similitude　between　me　and　my　wife。　　Our　opinions　and　pursuits　cannot　be　in　common。　　While　women　are　formed　by　their　education；　and　their　education　continues　in　its　present　state；　tender　hearts　and　misguided　understandings　are　all　that　we　can　hope　to　meet　with。
  What　are　the　character；　age；　and　person　of　the　woman　to　whom　you　allude？　　and　what　prospect　of　success　would　attend　my　exertions　to　obtain　her　favour？
  I　have　told　you　she　is　rich。　　She　is　a　widow；　and　owes　her　riches　to　the　liberality　of　her　husband；　who　was　a　trader　of　great　opulence；　and　who　died　while　on　a　mercantile　adventure　to　Spain。　He　was　not　unknown　to　you。　　Your　letters　from　Spain　often　spoke　of　him。　　In　short；　she　is　the　widow　of　Benington；　whom　you　met　at　Barcelona。　　She　is　still　in　the　prime　of　life；　is　not　without　many　feminine　attractions；　has　an　ardent　and　credulent　temper；　and　is　particularly　given　to　devotion。　　This　temper　it　would　be　easy　to　regulate　according　to　your　pleasure　and　your　interest；　and　I　now　submit　to　you　the　expediency　of　an　alliance　with　her。
  I　am　a　kinsman；　and　regarded　by　her　with　uncommon　deference；　and　my　commendations；　therefore；　will　be　of　great　service　to　you；　and　shall　be　given。
  I　will　deal　ingenuously　with　you。　　It　is　proper　you　should　be　fully　acquainted　with　the　grounds　of　this　proposal。　　The　benefits　of　rank；　and　property；　and　independence；　which　I　have　already　mentioned　as　likely　to　accrue　to　you　from　this　marriage；　are　solid　and　valuable　benefits；　but　these　are　not　the　sole　advantages；　and　to　benefit　you；　in　these　respects；　is　not　my　whole　view。
  No。　　My　treatment　of　you　henceforth　will　be　regulated　by　one　principle。　　I　regard　you　only　as　one　undergoing　a　probation　or　apprenticeship；　as　subjected　to　trials　of　your　sincerity　and　fortitude。　　The　marriage　I　now　propose　to　you　is　desirable；　because　it　will　make　you　independent　of　me。　　Your　poverty　might　create　an　unsuitable　bias　in　favour　of　proposals；　one　of　whose　effects　would　be　to　set　you　beyond　fortune's　reach。　　That　bias　will　cease；　when　you　cease　to　be　poor　and　dependent。
  Love　is　the　strongest　of　all　human　delusions。　　That　fortitude；　which　is　not　subdued　by　the　tenderness　and　blandishments　of　woman；　may　be　trusted；　but　no　fortitude；　which　has　not　undergone　that　test；　will　be　trusted　by　us。
  This　woman　is　a　charming　enthusiast。　　She　will　never　marry　but　him　whom　she　passionately　loves。　　Her　power　over　the　heart　that　loves　her　will　scarcely　have　limits。　　The　means　of　prying　into　your　transactions；　of　suspecting　and　sifting　your　thoughts；　which　her　constant　society　with　you；　while　sleeping　and　waking；　her　zeal　and　watchfulness　for　your　welfare；　and　her　curiosity；　adroitness；　and　penetration　will　afford　her；　are　evident。　　Your　danger；　therefore；　will　be　imminent。　　Your　fortitude　will　be　obliged　to　have　recourse；　not　to　flight；　but　to　vigilance。　　Your　eye　must　never　close。
  Alas！　what　human　magnanimity　can　stand　this　test！　　How　can　I　persuade　myself　that　you　will　not　fail？　　I　waver　between　hope　and　fear。　　Many；　it　is　true；　have　fallen；　and　dragged　with　them　the　author　of　their　ruin；　but　some　have　soared　above　even　these　perils　and　temptations；　with　their　fiery　energies　unimpaired；　and　great　has　been；　as　great　ought　to　be；　their　recompence。
  But　you　are　doubtless　aware　of　your　danger。　　I　need　not　repeat　the　consequences　of　betraying　your　trust；　the　rigour　of　those　who　will　Judge　your　fault；　the　unerring　and　unbounded　scrutiny　to　which　your　actions；　the　most　secret　and　indifferent；　will　be　subjected。
  Your　conduct；　however；　will　be　voluntary。　　At　your　own　option　be　it；　to　see　or　not　to　see　this　woman。　　Circumspection；　deliberation　forethought；　are　your　sacred　duties　and　highest　interest。
  Chapter　VIII。
  Ludloe's　remarks　on　the　seductive　and　bewitching　powers　of　women；　on　the　difficulty　of　keeping　a　secret　which　they　wish　to　know；　and　to　gain　which　they　employ　the　soft　artillery　of　tears　and　prayers；　and　blandishments　and　menaces；　are　familiar　to　all　men；　but　they　had　little　weight　with　me；　because　they　were　unsupported　by　my　own　experience。　　I　had　never　had　any　intellectual　or　sentimental　connection　with　the　sex。　　My　meditations　and　pursuits　had　all　led　a　different　way；　and　a　bias　had　gradually　been　given　to　my　feelings；　very　unfavourable　to　the　refinements　of　love。　　I　acknowledge；　with　shame　and　regret；　that　I　was　accustomed　to　regard　the　physical　and　sensual　consequences　of　the　sexual　relation　as　realities；　and　every　thing　intellectual；　disinterested；　and　heroic；　which　enthusiasts　connect　with　it　as　idle　dreams。　　Besides；　said　I；　I　am　yet　a　stranger　to　the　secret；　on　the　preservation　of　which　so　much　stress　is　laid；　and　it　will　be　optional　with　me　to　receive　it　or　not。　　If；　in　the　progress　of　my　acquaintance　with　Mrs。　Benington；　I　should　perceive　any　extraordinary　danger　in　the　gift；　cannot　I　refuse；　or　at　least　delay　to　comply　with　any　new　conditions　from　Ludloe？　　Will　not　his　candour　and　his　affection　for　me　rather　commend　than　disapprove　my　diffidence？　　In　fine；　I　resolved　to　see　this　lady。
  She　was；　it　seems；　the　widow　of　Benington；　whom　I　knew　in　Spain。　　This　man　was　an　English　merchant　settled　at　Barcelona；　to　whom　I　had　been　commended　by　Ludloe's　letters；　and　through　whom　my　pecuniary　supplies　were　furnished。　。　。　。　。　。　。　　Much　intercourse　and　some　degree　of　intimacy　had　taken　place　between　us；　and　I　had　gained　a　pretty　accurate　knowledge　of　his　character。　　I　had　been　informed；　through　different　channels；　that　his　wife　was　much　his　superior　in　rank；　that　she　possessed　great　wealth　in　her　own　right；　and　that　some　disagreement　of　temper　or　views　occasioned　their　separation。　　She　had　married　him　for　love；　and　still　doated　on　him：　the　occasions　for　separation　having　arisen；　it　seems；　not　on　her　side　but　on　his。　　As　his　habits　of　reflection　were　nowise　friendly　to　religion；　and　as　hers；　according　to　Ludloe；　were　of　the　opposite　kind；　it　is　possible　that　some　jarring　had　arisen　between　them　from　this　source。　　Indeed；　from　some　casual　and　broken　hints　of　Benington；　especially　in　the　latter　part　of　his　life；　I　had　long　since　gathered　this　conjecture。　。　。　。　。　。　。　　Something；　thought　I；　may　be　derived　from　my　acquaintance　with　her　husband　favourable　to　my　views。
  I　anxiously　waited　for　an　opportunity　of　acquainting　Ludloe　with　my　resolution。　　On　the　day　of　our　last　conversation；　he　had　made　a　short　excursion　from　town；　intending　to　return　the　same　evening；　but　had　continued　absent　for　several　days。　　As　soon　as　he　came　back；　I　hastened　to　acquaint　him　with　my　wishes。
  Have　you　well　considered　this　matter；　said　he。　　Be　assured　it　is　of　no　trivial　import。　　The　moment　at　which　you　enter　the　presence　of　this　woman　will　decide　your　future　destiny。　　Even　putting　out　of　view　the　subject　of　our　late　conversations；　the　light　in　which　you　shall　appear　to　her　will　greatly　influence　your　happiness；　since；　though　you　cannot　fail　to　love　her；　it　is　quite　uncertain　what　return　she　may　think　proper　to　make。　　Much；　doubtless；　will　depend　on　your　own　perseverance　and　address；　but　you　will　have　many；　perhaps　insuperable　obstacles　to　encounter　on　several　accounts；　and　especially　in　her　attachment　to　the　memory　of　her　late　husband。　　As　to　her　devout　temper；　this　is　nearly　allied　to　a　warm　imagination　in　some　other　respects；　and　will　operate　much　more　in　favour　of　an　ardent　and　artful　lover；　than　against　him。
  I　still　expressed　my　willingness　to　try　my　fortune　with　her。
  Well；　said　he；　I　anticipated　your　consent　to　my　proposal；　and　the　visit　I　have　just　made　was　to　her。　　I　thought　it　best　to　pave　the　way；　by　informing　her　that　I　had　met　with