human
in _Home_, if it is not the billing and cooing in _Ours_? But what can be more commonplace or more objectionable than the frequent remarks about love and Cupid scattered through his plays? Tom Stylus says in _Society_,
gpt
Love is an awful swindler--always drawing upon Hope, who never honors his drafts--a sort of whining beggar, continually moved on by the maternal police. But 'tis a weakness to which the wisest of us are subject--a kind of manly measles which this flesh is heir to, particularly when the flesh is heir to nothing else. Even I have felt the divine damnation--I mean emanation. But the lady united herself to another, which was a very good thing for me, and anything but a misfortune for her.