If Any Young Men Come For Mary

From The Very Beginning— From The First Moment, I May Almost Say— Of My Acquaintance With You, Your Manners, Impressing Me With The Fullest Belief Of Your Arrogance, Your Conceit, And Your Selfish Disdain Of The Feelings Of Others, Were Such As To Form The Groundwork Of Disapprobation On Which Succeeding Events Have Built So Immovable A Dislike; And I Had Not Known You A Month Before I Felt That You Were The Last Man In The World Whom I Could Ever Be Prevailed On To Marry.

Upon The Whole, Therefore, She Found What Had Been Sometimes Found Before, That An Event To Which She Had Looked Forward With Impatient Desire, Did Not, In Taking Place, Bring All The Satisfaction She Had Promised Herself.

Not Keep A Journal! How Are Your Absent Cousins To Understand The Tenor Of Your Life In Bath Without One? How Are The Civilities And Compliments Of Every Day To Be Related As They Ought To Be, Unless Noted Down Every Evening In A Journal? How Are Your Various Dresses To Be Remembered, And The Particular State Of Your Complexion, And Curl Of Your Hair To Be Described In All Their Diversities, Without Having Constant Recourse To A Journal?

You Either Choose This Method Of Passing The Evening Because You Are In Each Other's Confidence, And Have Secret Affairs To Discuss, Or Because You Are Conscious That Your Figures Appear To The Greatest Advantage In Walking;— If The First, I Should Be Completely In Your Way, And If The Second, I Can Admire You Much Better As I Sit By The Fire.

I Can Recollect Nothing More To Say At Present; Perhaps Breakfast May Assist My Ideas. I Was Deceived -- My Breakfast Supplied Only Two Ideas -- That The Rolls Were Good And The Butter Bad.