and feelings, and almost invariably creates an isolation,—­consequences from which we, perhaps, should fearfully shrink.  On the brilliant conversationist is inflicted the penalty of never enjoying a rest in society:  her expected employment is to amuse others, not herself; the beauty is the dread of all the jealous wives and anxious mothers, and the object of a notice which is almost incompatible with happiness:  I never saw a happy beauty, did you?  The great genius is shunned and feared by, perhaps, the very people whom she is most desirous to attract; the exquisite musician is asked into society en artiste, expected to contribute a certain species of amusement, the world refusing to receive any other from her.  The woman who is surrounded by admirers is often wearied to death of attentions which lose all their charm with their novelty, and which frequently serve to deprive her of the only affection she really values.  Experience will convince you of the great truth, that there is a law of compensation in all things.  The same law also holds good with regard to the preferences shown to those who have no superiority over us, who are nothing more than our equals in beauty, in cleverness, in accomplishments.  If Ellen B. or Lydia C. is liked more than you are by one person, you, in your turn, will be preferred by another; no one who seeks for affection and approbation, and who really deserves it, ever finally fails of acquiring it.  You have no right to expect that every one should like you the best:  if you considered such expectations in the abstract, you would be forced to acknowledge their absurdity.  Besides, would it not be a great annoyance to you to give up your time and attention to conversing with, or writing to, the very people whose preference you envy for Ellen B. or Lydia C.?  They are suited to each other, and like each other:  in good time, you will meet with people who suit you, and who will consequently like you; nay, perhaps at this present moment, you may have many friends who delight in your society, and admire your character:  will you lose the pleasure which such blessings are intended to confer, by envying the preferences shown to others?  Bring the subject distinctly and clearly home to your mind.  Whenever you feel an emotion of pain, have the courage to trace it to its source, place this emotion in all its meanness before you, then think how ridiculous it would appear to you if you contemplated it in another.  Finally, ask yourself whether there can be any indulgence of such feelings in a heart that is bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ,—­whether there can be any room for them in a temple of God wherein the spirit of God dwelleth.[39]

FOOTNOTES: 

[37] 1 John iii.

[38] 1 Cor. xii. 25, 26.

[39] Cor. iii. 16.

LETTER V.

SELFISHNESS AND UNSELFISHNESS.