“But you have been very happy—quite an enviable person.”
“I have never been exactly happy since they called me old bachelor,” replied he, a little impatiently.
“Indeed!” exclaimed his niece with real surprise. “But did not you tell me some three or four weeks ago that this passion which is ycleped love, sometimes produces unhappiness as well as happiness?”
“That I also told you depended on the dispositions of the persons under its influence. If they have sufficient common sense to avoid the many dangers that intersect the way to happiness, they will find the passion truly delightful; but should they overstep the limits marked out by prudence, they will ultimately find they have pursued a shadow which has ended in disappointment or blighted hopes.”
“Dear me! but, father, what do you say on the subject?”
“That the parterre, among which the most beautiful flowers blossom, often conducts to a bed of thorns, if we deviate from the correct path.”
“It is surprising, then, dear father, that you should wish me to travel a road so perilous.”
“Avoid the perils, daughter.”
“But what are they, father?”
“They consist of some of those errors of disposition that often produce the misery of mankind—false-pride, want of confidence, anger, jealousy—”