there was no such thing in the world. I am very certain the woman who is possessed of it, unless she can be so peculiarly happy as to live with people void of envy, had better be without it. The fate of those persons who have wit, is nowhere so well described, as in those excellent lines in the Essay on Criticism, which are so exactly suited to my present purpose, I cannot forbear repeating them to you.
"Unhappy wit, like most mistaken things.
Atones not for that envy which it brings;
In youth alone its empty praise we boast.
But soon the short-liv'd vanity is lost:
Like some (air flower the early spring supplies,
That gaily blooms, but e'en in blooming dies.
What is this wit which most our cares employ?
The owner's wife that other men enjoy:
The most our trouble still, when most admir'd;
The more we give, the more is still requir'd;
The fame with pains we gain, but lose with ease;
Sure some to vex, but never all to please:
'Tis what the vicious fear, the virtuous shun;
By fools 'tis hated, and by knaves undone.
"I never spoke, but I was a wit; if I was silent, it was contempt, I certainly would not deign to converse with such people as they were. Thus whatever I did disobliged them; and it was impossible to be otherwise, as the cause of their displeasure was what I could not remove. I should have been very well pleased with their conversation, if they had been contented to have been what nature designed them; for good-humour, and a desire to please, is all I wish for in a companion; for, in my opinion, being inoffensive goes a great way in rendering any person agreeable; but so little did they show to me, that every word I spoke was misunderstood, and turned to my disadvantage. I remember once, on my saying I would follow my inclinations while they were innocent, and no ill consequences
