long withdrawn from that society; but must frankly acknowledge that the primary cause was my having few friends left to be troublesome to. This circumstance at once afforded me leisure for reflection, and roused me to it: for observing that my society was shunned, first by one, and then by another of my associates, I began to employ many solitary hours in endeavouring to discover the cause; and after various unsuccessful attempts to trace it to the misconduct of others, I was at last compelled to suspect that, after all, the fault might be in myself.

Without troubling you with the long course of experiment and observation by which I was led to this unpleasant conclusion, I shall content myself with stating it to be my settled conviction that, an excessive sensibility to injury-a readiness to take offence on small occasions-a disposition to jealousy, proceed from nothing so much as a tendency to overrate our own worth and consequence. Hence it is that we entertain unreasonable expectations of the attentions due to us from others; and the inevitable disappointment which ensues, mortifies our vanity and self-love, and produces that fretful, complaining, or resentful temper which gives so much trouble to our neighbours, and tenfold more uneasiness to ourselves.

Persons whose misfortune it is to magnify their own consequence, instead of making a liberal allowance for similar infirmities in their neighbours, expect that every body should regard them in the same disproportionate view, and are first astonished, and then hurt, when they discover how far this is

from being the case. She who is always thinking of herself, imagines that others must be always thinking of her; at least she thinks it ought to be so; though of all persons, such a one is the least likely to excite a lively interest in those around her.

Another cause of the disposition in question I discovered to be, in my own case, the want of a sufficient interest in the useful employments of life; which left me at leisure to indulge that idle and gossiping turn of mind from whence mischief of one sort or another is sure to arise. When, as a resource from the painfulness of my reflections, I began to engage more heartily in my pursuits, it was astonishing how much less inclination I felt to watch the motions and arraign the conduct of my neighbours. Being fully occupied myself, I often quite forgot to notice whether they paid me proper attentions or not; and a thousand little things passed unnoticed at which I should most certainly have taken offence, had I been on the look out for it. I also acquired by this means, a little more charity in judging of the conduct of my neighbours; for it could not but occur to my mind that whereas, while I was busily engaged in my own occupations I had little leisure to think of them; so they, for a reason equally good, might sometimes lose a lively recollection even of me. That very common admonition-to mind one's own business, is really an excellent one; for while an energetic attention to one's own affairs effectually checks an impertinent and mischievous curiosity about the conduct of other people, it by no means prevents a benevolent concern for

their welfare, or activity in their service, when they may happen to require it.

Thus I found that

while I became less and less inclined to break off an interesting employment in order to watch whether one neighbour went by without calling, or whether another paid me some expected attention, I was yet much more willing than heretofore to give up some portion of my time to them when I could do them any good by that means.

There was another consideration which had great efficacy in cing me, if I am cured, of my troublesome propensities; and that was the utter unavailingness of my resentments. When I was affronted,

and determined to show it, I soon discovered that nobody cared much whether I was pleased or angry. People in general seemed perfectly contented to wait till my anger was over. A few more good tempered ones, who endeavoured to explain and to conciliate, I could see smiled secretly at my infirmity; while the more ill-natured laughed at it without disguise. So that I found I was always the chief sufferer, and the chief loser, by my ill humour. When, from motives of pique, I absented myself from any company, the circumstance, as I have had opportunities enough of discovering, excited no regret; but very often the reverse: so that I began to be thoroughly tired of indulging resentments which punished no one but myself.

As it is common to pass from one extreme to another, so I am suspected by some of having now become too insensible to this sort of injury. Whether that be the case I will not determine; but this I

know, that if I err on this side, it is the most peaceful and comfortable fault I ever fell into. In fact it is so difficult a thing to offend me now, that those-if there are any such—who would wish to do so, must I am sure give up the attempt in despair. I am far from being ignorant that I occasionally experience, like other people, little slights and neglects from the carelessness, selfishness, or ill-nature of my neighbours; but as this rarely happens from those whom I love and esteem, I must confess that it gives the smallest possible disturbance to my tranquillity. If any one treats me with rudeness or neglect, I perceive that that person knows not how to behave; and I feel the same sort of compassion and indulgence towards the party that one does on remarking any other species of awkwardness in ill-bred people.

As to my happiness, that is so greatly independent of others--so much regulated by my own conduct and internal tranquillity—that it cannot be moved by such things. It is, indeed, since I have learned the happy art of looking within for entertainment and satisfaction, and depended on my own resources, that I have become so much less troublesome to others than formerly. And it is well for me that this change has taken place; for as I am now growing old, and have nothing to recommend me to the notice of any one, being neither rich, nor witty, nor entertaining; think, I beseech you, what an unhappy and forlorn creature I should be if my happiness still depended upon the flattering attentions of my neighbours: I assure you if that were the case, I should have little enough! And while I

am upon this subject I will take the liberty to say, that it does appear to me that much of the dissatisfaction, fretfulness, and uneasiness, visible in persons in the decline of life, especially in those who are solitary, is owing to their not having independence of mind enough to make them indifferent to the neglect which is too often the lot of age. The most obscure and despised individual who thus rises above her circumstances, and finds content within, is far more respectable, and enjoys a much more permanent and sterling species of happiness, than the most admired coquet, or the most richly bedizened dowager, who depends, for the maintenance of her happiness, like the meanest mendicants, on the crumbs of admiration and respect that are thrown to her by the surrounding crowd.

But I perceive that, like other old folks, I have wandered from my subject, and, forgetting that I am writing for the young, have been lecturing the old. However, I am well persuaded that the same dispositions that are necessary to respectability and happiness at one period of life are equally so at another; and she or he who would have a cheerful, peaceful, and respectable old age, must learn in youth to build happiness on a true foundation. Το return to the subject on which I set out, I will just say, that while I am so remarkably backward in taking offence, I hope I am equally reluctant to give it; and should be sincerely sorry if any remarks I have at present made should have such an effect on any of my readers. If, however, I may have unintentionally hurt some of them, I humbly hope that

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