imagine that of another which he himself was in capable of conceiving, much less carrying into action.

With Mary Granard for a wife, he would have been loved for his virtues and respected for his usefulness—he would have been a happy man, and merited his happiness; he was now helpless, at best, but frequently in positive misery, and only saved from utter recklessness by the remnants of what might be termed his better nature, or the indolence which belonged to his easy temper.