For he reasoned as follows; and granting that reason has any business on such premises, the process does not seem amiss.
A man in love has only got one-eighth part of his wits at home to govern the doings of his arms, legs, and tongue.

A large half is occupied with his fancy, in all the wanderings of that creature, dreamy, flimsy, anchoring with gossamer, climbing the sky with steps of fog, cast into abysms (as great writers call it) by imaginary demons, and even at its best in a queer condition, pitiful, yet exceeding proud.

A quarter of the mental power is employed in wanting to know what the other people think; an eighth part ought to be dwelling upon the fair distracting object; and only a small eighth can remain to attend to the business of the solid day.

But in spite of all this, such lads get on about as well as usual.

If Bacchus has a protective power, Venus has no less of it, and possibly is more active, as behooves a female.
And surely it was a cold-blooded scheme, which even the Revenue should have excised from an honest scale of duties, to catch a poor fellow in the meshes of love, because he was too sharp otherwise.