As a cure for this passion, I would propose a few remarks, founded both on observation and experience. In the first place, then, we seldom find that society affords us more pleasing or instructive intercourse than awaits us at home; and as to kindly feeling towards ourselves, if not excited in our nearest connections, how can we expect it from those who know us less, without having practised upon them some deception?
In the next place, we ought never to forget our own extreme insignificance in society. Indeed, it may be taken as a rule with young people in ordinary cases, that one-half of of the persons they meet with in society are not aware of their having been present, nor even conscious of the fact of to their existence; that another half of the remaining number have seen them without any favourable impression; that another half of those who still remain, have seen them with rather unfavourable feelings than otherwise; while, of those who remain beyond these, the affectionate feelings, indulgence, and cordial interest, can be as nothing, compared with what they might enjoy at home.
"How can this be?" exclaims the young visitor, "when so many persons look pleased to see me, when so many invitations are sent me, when some persons pay me such flattering compliments, and others appear so decidedly struck with my appearance?" I should be truly sorry to do anything to cool down the natural warmth and confidence of youth; but, in such cases, my rule for judging is a very simple one, depending upon the result of the following inquiries:—What is the proportion of persons you have noticed in the same company? What is the proportion of those by whom you have felt yourself repelled? What is the proportion of those you have really admired? and the proportion of those to whom you have been attracted by sympathy, or affection? Ask yourselves these questions,
