BUT it sometimes happens that particular virtues lose themselves in their neighbouring vices, and this laudable emulation degenerates into destructive rivalship. A GENTEEL, handsome woman, deservedly shares the esteem and admiration of all men; but why should this esteem and admiration, justly paid to merit, give us disquiet? The answer is ready. That desire to be admired so predominant in all females, by degrees works itself into the ruling passion, and precludes from the mind the particular virtue of emulation; for why a woman who merits the love of the world, should draw on her the disapprobation of many of her own sex, can be accounted for, by no other principle, than the mean, pitiful passion of envy. THIS may possibly give rise to defamation. It is astonishing how this practice prevails among a _few_ persons—because it is known by experience, to prove subversive of its very intention.—The arrows of envy recoil upon herself. HOW foolish must that woman appear who depreciates the merit of another, that she may appear unrivalled! She raises up the dykes of ill-nature, and inundates the land with a flood of scandal, but unhappily drowns herself in the event. I LEAVE it to the result of your observation, my dear _Myra_, whether the woman who is first to develope her stores of defamation, and through false emulation, the first to traduce a woman of real merit and virtue, is not also the first who becomes a scandal to herself, and consequently the first that is condemned. HOW opposite are the pursuits and rewards of her who participates in every rational enjoyment of life, without mixing in those scenes of indiscretion which give pain on recollection!—Whose chymical genius leads her to extract the poison from the most luxuriant flowers, and to draw honey even from the weeds of society. She mixes with the world seemingly indiscriminately—and because she would secure to herself that satisfaction which arises from a consciousness of acting right, she views her conduct with an eye of scrutiny. Though her temper is free and unrestrained, her heart is previously secured by the precepts of prudence—for prudence is but another name for virtue. Her manners are unruffled, and her disposition calm, temperate and dispassionate, however she may be surrounded by the temptations of the world. Adieu! LETTER XLI. _Harrington_ to _Worthy_. _Boston._ PRAY that the sun of Thursday may rise propitious—that it may gild the face of nature with joy. It is the day that beholds thy friend united in the indissoluble banns of _Hymen_.