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We often make a parade of passions, even of the most criminal; but envy is a timid and shamefull passion which we never dare to avoid.[1]


Jealousy is in some sort just and reasonable, since it only has for its object the preservation of a good which belongs, or which we fancy belongs to ourselves, while envy, on the contrary, is a madness which cannot endure the good of others.


The evil which we commit does not draw[2]

  1. "I don't believe that there is a human creature in his senses, arrived to maturity, that at some time or other has not been carried away by this passion, (sc. envy,) in good earnest; and yet I never met with any one who dared own he was guilty of it but in jest."—Mandeville, Fable of the Bees, Remark n.
    "Many men profess to hate another, but no man owns envy, as being an enmity or displeasure for no cause but goodness or felicity."—Jer. Taylor, Holy Living.
  2. "L'on me dit tant de mal de cet homme, et j'y en vois si peu que je commence à soupçonner qu'il n'ait qu'un mérite importun qui éteigne celui des autres."—La Bruyerk, De la Cour.