"Instructed reason! who teaches man's reason, but the inward devils of his impulses? A few good parents may point upward, periodically, but the impulses pull down! down! down! for ever! no intermission. If they would let go, I myself could plunge into the sea; but the deeper we plunge, the harder they pull! The farther we sink, the heavier they become. Oh! man! of what a cursed race art thou! Think you the inhabitants of the moon are likewise under the ban of God's displeasure?"
"I indulge in no such impracticable dreams," said Chevillere.
"No! no! you dream of paradise; but remember what I now tell you, your paradise will not be without its Eve, and its serpent too!"
"To whom do you allude?"
"To the lady of whom you were thinking but now."
"You know not what you say," said Chevillere.
"Do I not? Perhaps you would have me speak more plainly! Perhaps you could screw up your resolution to the point, that I might amputate your hopes one by one, as a poor fellow sees the surgeon carrying off his bloody limbs; nay, I could do it!"
"Why, sir, you never saw me till within the hour."
"Have I not? perhaps not; I would to heaven I could say as much about the lady."
"To what lady do you so often allude?"