Is a symptom inseparable from the love-sick.
“I am under a mortal anxiety,” is a phrase, of course, with which one seeks to give a pretended passion all the colours of truth: for a real one never goes without it.
The loyal subjects to the empire of love every pay their tribute of anxiety. Sometimes it consists in the fear of not triumphing openly over a rival; sometimes in the uncertainty of gaining one's point. The Fair precaution themselves against indiscretions; they endeavor to snap a heart from their best female friend; they want to keep a train of lovers, or augment it without losing any by discontent: others are busied in preserving a reputation to which they have no right. All these aims are not without their respective anxieties for the success: and yet these anxieties are preferable with them to a dull insipid state of indifference, which composes to them a frightful void.