nger necessary; and no triumphs were
ever more sweet to me than the sacrifice I was forced to submit to, in
order to restore him to prosperity.

It is natural to hope that this accident had at least the effect of
curing me of my fault; but it requires philosophy in yourself, or your
advisers, to render remorse of future avail. How could I amend my
fault, when I was not even aware of it? Smarting under the effects,
I investigated not the cause, and I attributed to irascibility and
vindictiveness what had a deeper and more dangerous origin.

At college, in spite of all my advantages of birth, fortune, health, and
intellectual acquirements, I had many things besides the one enemy of
remorse to corrode my tranquillity of mind. I was sure to find some one
to excel me in something, and this was enough to embitter my peace. Our
living Goldsmith is my favourite poet, and I perhaps insensibly
venerate the genius the more because I find something congenial in the
infirmities of the man. I can fully credit the anecdotes recorded
of him. I, too, could once have been jealous of a puppet handling a
spontoon; I, too, could once have been miserable if two ladies at the
theatre were more the objects of attention than myself! You, Clarence,
will not despise me for this confession; those who knew me less would.
Fools! there is no man so great as not to have some littleness more
predominant than all his greatness. Our virtues are the dupes, and often
only the playthings, of our follies! smile, but it is mournfully, in
looking back to that day. Though rich, high-born, and good-looking, I
possessed not one of these three qualities in that eminence which could
alone satisfy my love of superiority and desire of effect. I knew this
somewhat humiliating truth, for, though vain, I was not conceited.
Vanity, indeed, is the very antidote to conceit; for while the former
makes us all nerve to the opinion of others, the latter is perfectly
satisfied with its opinion of itself.

I knew this truth, and as Pope, if he could not be the greatest of
poets, resolved to be the most correct, so I strove, since I could not
be the handsomest, the wealthiest, and the noblest of my contemporaries,
to excel them, at least, in the grace and consummateness of manner; and
in this after incredible pains, after diligent apprenticeship in the
world and intense study in the closet, I at last flattered myself that
I had succeeded. Of all success, while we are yet in the