[Illustration: A]All lovers are absurd and ridiculous. The passion which
spiritualises woman makes man a fool. Nothing can be more amusing than to
observe a bashful lover in company where the object of his affections is
present. He is the very picture of confusion and distress, looking like a
man who has lost something, and knows not where to seek for it. His eyes
wander from the carpet to the ceiling; at one moment he is engaged in
counting the panes in the window, and the next in watching the discursive
flights of a blue-bottle round the apartment. But while he appears
anxiously seeking for some object on which to fix his attention, he
carefully avoids looking towards his _innamorata_; and should their eyes
meet by chance, his cheeks assume the tint of the beet-root or the turnip,
and his manifest embarrassment betrays his secret to the most
inexperienced persons. In order to recover his confidence, he shifts his
seat, which seems suddenly to have shot forth as many pins as the back of
a hedgehog; but in doing so he places the leg of his chair on the toe of a
gouty, cross old uncle, or on the tail of a favourite lap-dog, and,
besides creating an awful _fracas_, succeeds in making inveterate enemies
of the two brutes for the remainder of their lives.
There are some lovers, who show their love by their affected indifference,
and appear smitten by any woman except the one whom they are devoted to.
This is an ingenious stratagem; but in general it is so badly managed,
that it is more easily seen through than a cobweb. Lastly, there are a
select few, who evince their tender regard by perpetual bickerings and
quarrels. This method will frequently mislead inquisitive aunts and
guardians; but it should only be attempted by a man who has full
confidence in his own powers.
Lovers, as I have observed, are invariably objects of ridicule; timid,
jealous, and nervous, a frown throws them into a state of agony it would
be difficult to describe, and a smile bestowed upon a rival breaks their
rest for a week. Only observe one of them engaged in a quiet, interesting
_tête-à-tête_ with the lady of his choice. He has exerted all his powers
of fascination, and he fancies he is beginning to make a favourable
impression on his companion, when--bang!--a tall, whiskered fellow, who,
rumour has whispered, is the lady's intended, drops in upon them like a
bomb-shell! The detected lover sits confounded and abashed, wishing in the
depths of his soul that he could transform himself into a gnat, and make
his exit through the keyhole. Meantime the new-comer seats himself in
solemn silence, and for five minutes the conversation is only kept up by
monosyllables, in spite of the incredible efforts of all parties to appear
unconcerned. The young man in his confusion plunges deeper into the
mire;--he twists and writhes in secret agony--remarks on the sultriness of
the weather, though the thermometer is below the freezing point; and
commits a thousand _gaucheries_--too happy if he can escape from a
situation than which nothing can possibly be conceived more painful.