By a far worse; or if she love, withheld

By parents; or his happiest choice too late

Shall meet, already link’d and wedlock-bound

To a fell adversary, his hate and shame;

Which infinite calamity shall cause

To human life, and household peace confound.’

If love at first sight were mutual, or to be conciliated by kind offices; if the fondest affection were not so often repaid and chilled by indifference and scorn; if so many lovers both before and since the madman in Don Quixote had not ‘worshipped a statue, hunted the wind, cried aloud to the desert;’ if friendship were lasting; if merit were renown, and renown were health, riches, and long life; or if the homage of the world were paid to conscious worth and the true aspirations after excellence, instead of its gaudy signs and outward trappings:—then indeed I might be of opinion that it is better to live to others than one’s-self: but as the case stands, I incline to the negative side of the question.[[29]]

‘I have not loved the world, nor the world me;

I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bow’d

To its idolatries a patient knee—