mparative perfection, whereby one man may excel another.
The greater a man's knowledge is, the greater motive he may seem to
have for pride; but in the same proportion as the one rises the other
sinks, it being the chief office of wisdom to discover to us our
weaknesses and imperfections.

As folly is the foundation of pride, the natural superstructure of it
is madness. If there was an occasion for the experiment, I would not
question to make a proud man a lunatic in three weeks' time, provided
I had it in my power to ripen his frenzy with proper applications. It
is an admirable reflection in Terence, where it is said of a parasite,
"_Hic homines ex stultis facit insanos._" "This fellow," says he, "has
an art of converting fools into madmen." When I was in France, the
region of complaisance and vanity, I have often observed that a great
man who has entered a levee of flatterers humble and temperate has
grown so insensibly heated by the court which was paid him on all
sides, that he has been quite distracted before he could get into his
coach.

If we consult the collegiates of Moorfields, we shall find most of
them are beholden to their pride for their introduction into that
magnificent palace. I had, some years ago, the curiosity to inquire
into the particular circumstances of these whimsical freeholders; and
learned from their own mouths the condition and character of each of
them. Indeed, I found that all I spoke to were persons of quality.
There were at that time five duchesses, three earls, two heathen gods,
an emperor, and a prophet. There were also a great number of such as
were locked up from their estates, and others who concealed their
titles. A leather-seller of Taunton whispered me in the ear that he
was the "Duke of Monmouth," but begged me not to betray him. At a
little distance from him sat a tailor's wife, who asked me, as I went,
if I had seen the sword-bearer, upon which I presumed to ask her who
she was, and was answered, "My lady mayoress."

I was very sensibly touched with compassion toward these miserable
people; and, indeed, extremely mortified to see human nature capable
of being thus disfigured. However, I reaped this benefit from it, that
I was resolved to guard myself against a passion which makes such
havoc in the brain, and produces so much disorder in the imagination.
For this reason I have endeavored to keep down the secret swellings of
resentment, and stifle the very first suggestions o