Page images
PDF
EPUB

Nought but a genius can a genius fit,

A wit herself, Amelia weds a wit.

"Tis said that miracles will never cease;

Three days, three wondrous days they liv'd in peace,
On the fourth morn a warm dispute arose.
On Durfey's poetry and Bunyan's prose;
The learned war both wage with equal force,
And the fifth morn concluded the divorce."

I have asserted in a preceding page, that some persons, from a feeling of jealous competition, undervalue and speak loweringly of the merit and ability of their relations; while the failing of others is to praise and overrate every one that belongs to them. The following anecdote illustrates these contrasted operations of self-love in a peculiar degree. "I was sitting one morning with a lady, (said a friend of mine) who was remarkable for speaking of her relatives in a lessening and complaining manner, and to whom their praises were evidently unpalatable; so much so, that I had long ceased to commend them in her presence, and I attributed this weakness to a sore self-love which brought itself forward in competition, where no one else could see any ground for it. Soon after I was seated, another visiter came in, and thinking herself privileged to find fault with the lady's relations, even in her presence, as she had heard her speak ill of them herself, she talked of them in very lowering terms, while I sat in uneasy silence, disgusted at the coarse daring of the detractor, and dreading to hear the person addressed join in the detraction. But, on

the contrary, she not only eagerly defended the accused, but lavished on them the kindest encomiums, and showed such just indignation at the severity of the detractor, that she was glad to shorten her visit." "How I have enjoyed the correction which you gave that rude woman! (said I, when she was gone) and I am glad to find that your opinion of those whom she censured, is so happily changed." "It is not changed at all," she bluntly replied; "I think just as ill of them as ever, but no one shall presume to find fault with my relations in my presence: I think it is taking a great liberty with me; it is an affront to my dignity; for however ill I may think of my relatives, no one has any right to abuse them in my hearing, and I shall defend them to the utmost. O poor human nature! thought I, when I heard this anecdote. Here was self-love at its climax; this person was induced to violate, unblushingly, what she believed to be the truth, and commend those to whom she thought no commendation was due, not from the amiable impulse of natural affection, but from the sordid impulse of self-love! the influence, as I may call it, of the pronoun possessive," my and mine."

[ocr errors]

Having thus alluded to the pronoun possessive and its influence, I beg leave to digress and say here what I had once intended to say on this subject in a publication by itself.

I shall now recapitulate what has been said in this chapter.

That the competition between party-giving

ladies of all ranks in a metropolis is well known, that even there, the bitterness of the rivalry depends on the closeness of the competition.

That competitions in dress, style of living, and dinner-giving, are probably greatest in a country town.

That competitions in a public ball-room, or wherever rival talents are displayed, have a hurtful tendency.

That competitions amongst near relations, from the closeness of the collision, excite the greatest detraction.

That competitions in chess-playing, or talents of any kind, between husbands and wives, are dangerous to connubial happiness.

And lastly, as a digression growing out of the subject, I express my intention to make some observations on the influence of the pronoun possessive.

CHAPTER IV.

ON THE PRONOUN POSSESSIVE.

THERE is no pronoun, except it be the pronoun personal, that is so fond of going into company and playing the first fiddle there as the pronoun possessive. The latter is as omnipotent as any fairy of old, for it has a transforming power, against which we can not be too much on our guard, since it sometimes throws over every person and every thing that belongs to us, a lustre which may be mere delusion, like the mirage on the sea shore. That "I" is a hero, we have long known, from good authority, "and I the little hero of each tale," says the poet of good sense; but then I must consider my or mine as a hero also; nay, I must own that I feel his influence so much, and he forces himself so continually into my conversation, against my sense of propriety, that, in revenge, I have resolved to hold him and his daring up to public reprehension. It is in vain that I say to myself why should I talk of myself? Who cares about my symptoms, my invitations, or my acquaintances, my works, or my plans, or any thing belonging to me, or whether my relatives or friends

be sick, or well, alive, or dead, promoted or transported? Yet, that tyrant my is always forcing me to talk of somebody or something belonging to myself, and probably of no interest whatever to any one who hears me!

But though this egotism, or rather meumism is dangerous, so far as it may make me laughed at, and lead others into the snare of laughing at me as soon as my back is turned, or even before; (and it is no new thing to me, to be laughed at in my presence,) this is not the most dangerous part of the influence of the pronoun possessive; it is most dangerous when it blinds us to the defects of all who belong to us; when it elevates their charms, talents, and virtues, to a height pernicious both to us and to themselves, by feeding our selfconsequence and theirs also, filling us with a degree of family arrogance fatal to the character of a humble Christian; yet, who that have ever looked into themselves, or ever regarded others with observing eyes, but must be sensible of the power of the pronoun my and mine, in little as well as great things, and will not own that the following fable, written by that accurate judge of nature, Esop, one of the earliest friends of youth, is a faithful picture of the delusions of self-love, and of the pronoun possessive?

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »