Of all the passions which distract the human mind, sure there is none more pernicious in its quality, or more dreadful in its consequences, than jealousy; – it is look'd upon, indeed, as the most certain proof of a strong and violent affection; yet it is such a proof as no one would wish to experience, as it infallibly involves the beloved object in a variety of disquiets, whether innocent or guilty; – nor is the person possess'd of this raging fury less wretched; – so just are these words of mr. Dryden:

And as the inimitable Shakspear yet more emphatically, in my opinion, expresses it:

But it is altogether needless to bring any testimonies from printed quotations on this head; – even those who have happily lived free from the direful passion in their bosoms, or never felt the effects of it from those by whom they are beloved, cannot but have seen, among their acquaintance, enough to convince them better of its malignity, than they can be by the pen of any author.

But as jealousy frequently takes possession of the soul by almost imperceptible degrees, the following little narrative may serve as an antidote against its poison, and warn every one, married persons especially, not to give way to its first attacks, lest it should be in time wholly subdued by it.

Cleora had from her very infancy been promised in marriage to the son of a neighbouring gentleman, – about three years older than herself; an inclination for her intended husband grew up with her years, nor was his affection less tender for her, whom he expected would one day be his wife; but when the innocent pair became ripe for the consummation of their mutual wishes, an unhappy dispute happen'd between their parents, which entirely broke off the match at once, and they were forbid to see each other any more.