“But this really is a subject in which I feel a particular interest—­a personal interest; but, as for philosophy, I despise it—­that is as it is usually understood.  The only philosophy of life is love, and that is my doctrine.”

“Is that your only doctrine?”

“Pretty nearly; but it is much the same as that which appears in the world under the different disguises of religion.”

“I trust you do not mean to assert that love and religion are the same thing, Mr. Burke?”

“I do; the terms are purely convertible.  Love is the universal religion of man, and he is most religious who feels it most; that is your only genuine piety.  For instance, I am myself in a most exalted state of that same piety this moment, and have been so for a considerable time past.”

Miss Clinton felt a good deal embarrassed by the easy profligacy that was expressed in these sentiments, and she made an effort to change the subject.

“Are you taking part in the canvass which is going on in the country, Mr. Burke?”

“Not much,” said he; “I despise politics as much as I cherish the little rosy god; but really, Miss Clinton, I feel anxious to know your opinions on marriage, and you have not stated them.  Do you not think the nuptial state the happiest?”

“It’s a subject I feel no inclination whatsoever to discuss, Mr. Burke; it is a subject which, personally speaking, has never occupied from me one moment’s thought; and, having said so much, I trust you will have the goodness to select some other topic for conversation.”

“But I am so circumstanced, just now, Miss Clinton, that I cannot really change it.  The truth is, that I have felt very much attached to you for some time past—­upon my word and honor I have:  it’s a fact, I assure you, Miss Clinton; and I now beg to make you a tender of myself and—­and—­of all I am possessed of.  I am a most ardent admirer of yours; and the upmost extent of my ambition is to become an accepted one.  Do then, my dear Miss Clinton, allow me the charming privilege—­pray, do.”

“What will be the consequence if I do not?” she replied, smiling.

“Upon my word and honor, I shall go nearly distracted, and get quite melancholy; my happiness depends upon you, Miss Clinton; you are a very delightful girl, quite a nonpareil, and I trust you will treat me with kindness and consideration.”

“Mr. Burke,” replied the lady, “I am much obliged for the preference you express for me; but whether you are serious or in jest, I can only say that I have no notion of matrimony; that I have never had any notion of it; and that I can safely say, I have never seen the man whom I should wish to call my husband.  You will oblige me very much, then, if in future you forbear to introduce this subject.  Consider it a forbidden one, so far as I am concerned, for I feel quite unworthy of so gifted and accomplished a gentleman as Mr. Burke.”