costs so much money, Louisa, and these are hard times, besides, Emily has an ear for music, and you perhaps have not." " O! dear papa, I am sure I have quite as good an ear as she has, and she has very little voice, and I have a great deal. Dear me! every body says I should sing and play so well if I were to learn! and really, papa, people will think you quite stingy." "Well, well, child, if I know myself not to be so, that does not signify; but I will hear what your mother says.' "" O! papa, I know mamma wishes it as much as I do; she does not like Emily D— should be more accomplished than I am.” "Nor I neither, my dear; but you are young yet." "Young, papa! I am two months older than Emily D "Indeed! well, but wait till next year." "Next year! and let Emily get so much before me! I might then just as well not learn at all." Here, just as the young voice is beginning, probably, to falter with mingled anger and disappointment, the mother enters. "So, my dear," cries her husband, "I find you have been putting extravagant wishes into our child's head." "How so?" "She wishes to learn music, and says that you approve it." "Well, my dear, and so I do, and where is the extravagance or impropriety? you can afford it; and really, those D-s and those L- -s are so set up, and so conceited of their children's acquirements, that as our Louisa is quite as clever as they are, I do think she ought to have as many advantages." ." "I think so too; but if she has a music master, she must give up her drawing master. I can not with prudence let her have both." Here an indignant exclamation from both mother and daughter interrupts the speaker, and Louisa falters out, "Give up my drawing master, papa, just as I have begun to copy prints?" What, my dear, make the poor child give up her master now that he says she has such a genius, that she has already made a better copy of a head of Vandyke, than Emily D, who has learnt twice the time; and that Harriet L's eyes, noses, and ears, though she is so much older, are not to be compared to Louisa's?" "Is this really the case?" cries the gratified father, overcome by these proofs of his child's superiority; "well then, I fear I must consent to let Louisa have two masters at once, but she must promise to be very diligent, and learn quickly, for I assure you, my dear, that business just now is very dead, and things are not going well, and I feel that I ought to draw in a little; however, I am willing to stretch a point for Louisa's advantage." Thus, the feeling of competition with the set up D-s and L- -s, comes in aid of parental affection, and parental vanity, and the point is carried! Emily D- must not be permitted to excel his own daughter in what, by the world, is deemed indispensable knowledge; and the suggestions of a well principled prudence are wholly disregarded. Nor, probably, will these indulgent parents ever hear Emily D sing or play with any pleasure again. They will always be comparing her performance with that of their own Louisa, and they will be ready to say, that she sings out of tune, and plays out of time, whenever her musical abilities are the theme of conversation. Yet far be it from me to ridicule even the weakness of parental affection. A tender and indulgent parent must ever be in my eyes, an object of affectionate reverence; but in this instance, and I believe it is a common instance, the indulgence was not the result of yielding affection only, but was full as much occasioned by a weak feeling of particu lar competition, and that feeling was leading the father to permit what his circumstances could but ill afford; he was therefore running the risk of injuring the fortune of that very child, whose young and dangerous ambition he was thus thoughtlessly willing to gratify. Alas! I fear we all have, or have had, though in different instances, and on different occasions, our Emily D -s, and our Harriet Ls. I shall now recapitulate what has been said in this chapter That competition is of two kinds, general and particular. That general competition is often unconscious, but that particular competition must be consciously experienced. That both lead to envy and to detraction. That competition is not confined to the human species, but that petted animals are equally susceptible of it. That professional jealousies are proverbial, whether they be those of general competition in a metropolis, or particular competition in a country town, but that those of the latter are from the closeness of the competitorship, the most bitter, and most likely to lead to detraction. That all public characters, when brought into immediate collision, are more especially exposed to feel envy, and be guilty of detraction, as the result of particular competition. That it is not necessary to be in particular competition to feel envy; that a general desire for notice is sufficient to cause it, and I give anecdotes of Dr. Goldsmith to prove this. 66 That the jealous rivalry of women on the score of personal charms is notorious: and lastly, we must do as others do, and live as others live," is a powerful but dangerous rule of action. CHAPTER III. THE SUBJECT CONTINUED. THE competition between party and ball giving ladies is every where known and acknowledged, whether they reside in a metropolis or in the country, in a city or a villagewhether the giver of the entertainment be a dutchess, or only the wife of a country gentleman or a rich tradesman; but, even on these occasions, the bitterness of the rivalry must be in proportion to the closeness of the competition. "When Greek meets Greek then comes the tug of war. The peeress will be, comparatively, indifferent to the consciousness that her entertainment was inferior in splendour and excellence to that of her country or city rivals; nor will the latter be mortified at hearing of the superior attractions of the fête given by the peeress. But, if the peeress be outshone by a rival peeress, and the country lady and rich citizen's wife be eclipsed by party givers of their own rank in life, then the unsuccessful competition leads to particular envy, and |