A man thus educated, enters upon the theatre of the world with many and great advantages. Accuftomed to reflection, acquainted with human nature, the ftrength of virtue, and depravity of vice, he can trace actions to their fource, and be enabled, in the affairs of life, to avail himself of the wisdom and experience of paft ages.

Very different is the modern plan of education followed by many, especially with the children of perfons of fuperior rank. They are introduced into the world almost from their very infancy. Inftead of having their minds ftored with the bright examples of antiquity, or thofe of modern times, the firft knowledge they acquire is of the vices with which they are furrounded; and they learn what mankind are, without ever knowing what they ought to be. Poffeffed of no fentiment of virtue, of no focial affection, they indulge, to the utmost of their ability, the gratification of every selfish appetite, without any other reftraint than what felf-intereft dictates. In men thus educated, youth is not the season of virtue; they have contracted the cold indifference, and all the vices of age, long before they arrive at manhood. Finding no entertainment in their own breasts, as void of friends as incapable of friendfhip, they fink reflection in a life of diffipation.

As many of the bad effects of the prefent fyftem of education may be attributed to a premature introduction into the world, I fhall conclude by reminding those parents and guardians who are so anxious to bring their children and pupils early into public life, that one of the finest gentlemen, the brightest geniuses, the most ufeful and beft-informed citizens of which antiquity has left us an example, did not think himself qualified to appear in public till the age of twenty-fix, and even continued his ftudies, for fome years after, under the eminent teachers of Greece and Rome.

ENVY

On Envy.

'NVY is almoft the only vice which is practicable at all times, and in every place; the only paffion which can never lie quiet for want of irritation; its effects, therefore, are every where difcoverable, and its attempts always to be dreaded.

It is impoffible to mention a name which any advantageous diftinction has made eminent, but fome latent animofity will burst out. The wealthy trader, however he may abftract himself from public affairs, will never want those who hint, with Shylock, that ships are but boards, and that no man can properly be termed rich whofe fortune is at the mercy of the winds, The beauty, adorned only with the unambitious graces of innocence and modefty, provokes, whenever the appears, a thousand murmurs of detraction, and whispers of fufpicion. The genius, even when he endeavours only to entertain with pleafing images of nature, or instruct by uncontested principles of fcience, yet fuffers perfecution from innumerable critics, whofe acrimony is excited merely by the pain of feeing others pleased, of hearing applauses which another enjoys.

The frequency of envy makes it fo familiar, that it escapes our notice; nor do we often reflect upon its turpitude or malignity, till we happen to feel its influence. When he that has given no provocation to malice, but by attempting to excel in fome useful art, finds himself pursued, by multitudes whom he never faw, with implacability of perfonal refentment; when he perceives clamour and malice let loose upon him as a public enemy, and incited by every ftratagem of defamation; when he hears the misfortunes of his family, or the follies of his youth, exposed to the world; and every failure of conduct, or defect of nature, aggravated and ridiculed; he then learns to abhor thofe artifices

at

at which he only laughed before, and discovers how much the happiness of life would be advanced by the eradication of envy from the human heart.

Envy is, indeed, a stubborn weed of the mind, and feldom yields to the culture of philofophy. There are, however, confiderations, which, if carefully implanted, and diligently propagated, might in time overpower and reprefs it, fince no one can nurse it for the fake of pleasure, as its effects are only fhame, anguish, and perturbation.

It is, above all other vices, inconfiftent with the character of a focial being, because it facrifices truth and kindness to very weak temptations. He that plunders a wealthy neighbour, gains as much as he takes away, and improves his own condition, in the fame proportion as he impairs another's; but he that blasts a flourishing reputation, must be content with a fmall dividend of additional fame, so small as can afford very little confolation to balance the guilt by which it is obtained.

I have hitherto avoided mentioning that dangerous and empirical morality, which cures one vice by means of another. But envy is so base and detestable, so vile in its original, and fo pernicious in its effects, that the predominance of almost any other quality is to be defired. It is one of thofe lawless enemies of fociety, against which poifoned arrows may honeftly be used. Let it therefore be conftantly remembered, that whoever envies another, confeffes his fuperiority; and let those be reformed by their pride, who have loft their virtue.

It is no flight aggravation of the injuries which envy incites, that they are committed against those who have given no intentional provocation; and that the fufferer is marked out for ruin, not because he has failed in any duty, but because he has dared to do more than was required.

Almost every other crime is practised by the help of fome quality which might have produced esteem or

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love,

love, if it had been well employed; but envy is a more unmixed and genuine evil; it pursues a hateful end by defpicable means, and defires not fo much its own happinefs as another's mifery. To avoid depravity like this, it is not neceffary that any one fhould afpire to heroifm or fanctity; but only, that he fhould refolve not to quit the rank which nature affigns, and wish to maintain the dignity of a human being.

S I walked one evening through St Andrew's

A Square, obferved a dreffed,

along the pavement at a flow pace. When I paffed her, fhe turned a little towards me, and made a fort of halt; but faid nothing. I went on a few steps before I turned my eye to obferve her. She had, by this time, refumed her former pace. I remarked a certain elegance in her form, which the poornefs of her garb could not altogether overcome: Her perfon was thin and genteel, and there was fomething not ungraceful in the ftoop of her head, and the feeming feebleness with which the walked. I could not refift the defire, which her appearance gave me, of knowing fomewhat of her fituation and circumftances: I therefore walked back, and paffed her with fuch a look as might induce her to fpeak what fhe feemed defirous to fay at first. This had the effect I wifhed." Pity a poor orphan !" faid fhe, in a voice tremulous and weak. I ftopped, and put my hand in my pocket: I had now a better op

portunity