,,essays ,,for ,,young ,,ladies4 ,,essays ,,on ,,various ,,subjects1 ,principally designed for ,,young ,,ladies4 ,,as for you1 ,i shall advise you in a few words3 aspire only to those virtues that are ,,peculiar ,,to ,,your ,,sex2 follow your natural modesty1 and think it your greatest commendation not to be talked of one way or the other4 ,oration of ,pericles to the ,athenian ,women4 ,,london3 ,printed for ,j4 ,,wilkie1 in ,st4 ,paul's ,church-,yard2 and ,t4 ,,cadell1 in the ,strand4 ,,mdcclxxvii4 ,,to ,,mrs4 ,,montagu4 ,,madam1 ,,if you were only one of the finest writers of your time1 you would probably have escaped the trouble of this address1 which is drawn on you1 less by the lustre of your understanding1 than by the amiable qualities of your heart4 ,,as the following pages are written with an humble but earnest wish1 to promote the interests of virtue1 as far as the very limited abilities of the author allow2 there is1 ,i flatter myself1 a peculiar propriety in inscribing them to you1 ,madam1 who1 while your works convey instruction and delight to the best-informed of the other sex1 furnish1 by your conduct1 an admirable pattern of life and manners to your own4 ,and ,i can with truth remark1 that those graces of conversation1 which would be the first praise of almost any other character1 constitute but an inferior part of yours4 ,i am1 ,,madam1 ,with the highest esteem1 ,your most obedient ,humble ,servant1 ,bristol1 ,,hannah ,,more4 ,may #bj1 #aggg4 ,,contents4 ,,introduction ,page #a ,,on ,,dissipation #ae ,,on ,,conversation #cg ,,on ,,envy #fc ,,on ,,sentimental ,,connexions #gg ,,on ,,true ,,and ,,false ,,meekness #ajg ,,on ,,education #abc ,,on ,,religion #aeh ,,miscellaneous ,,thoughts ,,on ,,wit #agh ,,introduction4 ,,it is with the utmost diffidence that the following pages are submitted to the inspection of the ,public3 yet1 however the limited abilities of the author may have prevented her from succeeding to her wish in the execution of her present attempt1 she humbly trusts that the uprightness of her intention will procure it a candid and favourable reception4 ,the following little ,essays are chiefly calculated for the younger part of her own sex1 who1 she flatters herself1 will not esteem them the less1 because they were written immediately for their service4 ,she by no means pretends to have composed a regular system of morals1 or a finished plan of conduct3 she has only endeavoured to make a few remarks on such circumstances as seemed to her susceptible of some improvement1 and on such subjects as she imagined were particularly interesting to young ladies1 on their first introduction into the world4 ,she hopes they will not be offended if she has occasionally pointed out certain qualities1 and suggested certain tempers1 and dispositions1 as peculiarly feminine1 and hazarded some observations which naturally arose from the subject1 on the different characters which mark the sexes4 ,and here again she takes the liberty to repeat that these distinctions cannot be too nicely maintained2 for besides those important qualities common to both1 each sex has its respective1 appropriated qualifications1 which would cease to be meritorious1 the instant they ceased to be appropriated4 ,nature1 propriety1 and custom have prescribed certain bounds to each2 bounds which the prudent and the candid will never attempt to break down2 and indeed it would be highly impolitic to annihilate distinctions from which each acquires excellence1 and to attempt innovations1 by which both would be losers4 ,,women therefore never understand their own interests so little1 as when they affect those qualities and accomplishments1 from the want of which they derive their highest merit4 ,the porcelain clay of human kind1 says an admired writer1 speaking of the sex4 ,greater delicacy evidently implies greater fragility2 and this weakness1 natural and moral1 clearly points out the necessity of a superior degree of caution1 retirement1 and reserve4 ,,if the author may be allowed to keep up the allusion of the poet1 just quoted1 she would ask if we do not put the finest vases1 and the costliest images in places of the greatest security1 and most remote from any probability of accident1 or destruction8 ,by being so situated1 they find their protection in their weakness1 and their safety in their delicacy4 ,this metaphor is far from being used with a design of placing young ladies in a trivial1 unimportant light2 it is only introduced to insinuate1 that where there is more beauty1 and more weakness1 there should be greater circumspection1 and superior prudence4 ,,men1 on the contrary1 are formed for the more public exhibitions on the great theatre of human life4 ,like the stronger and more substantial wares1 they derive no injury1 and lose no polish by being always exposed1 and engaged in the constant commerce of the world4 ,it is their proper element1 where they respire their natural air1 and exert their noblest powers1 in situations which call them into action4 ,they were intended by ,providence for the bustling scenes of life2 to appear terrible in arms1 useful in commerce1 shining in counsels4 ,,the ,author fears it will be hazarding a very bold remark1 in the opinion of many ladies1 when she adds1 that the female mind1 in general1 does not appear capable of attaining so high a degree of perfection in science as the male4 ,yet she hopes to be forgiven when she observes also1 that as it does not seem to derive the chief portion of its excellence from extraordinary abilities of this kind1 it is not at all lessened by the imputation of not possessing them4 ,it is readily allowed1 that the sex have lively imaginations1 and those exquisite perceptions of the beautiful and defective1 which come under the denomination of ,taste4 ,but pretensions to that strength of intellect1 which is requisite to penetrate into the abstruser walks of literature1 it is presumed they will readily relinquish4 ,there are green pastures1 and pleasant vallies1 where they may wander with safety to themselves1 and delight to others4 ,they may cultivate the roses of imagination1 and the valuable fruits of morals and criticism2 but the steeps of ,parnassus few1 comparatively1 have attempted to scale with success4 ,and when it is considered1 that many languages1 and many sciences1 must contribute to the perfection of poetical composition1 it will appear less strange4 ,the lofty ,epic1 the pointed ,satire1 and the more daring and successful flights of the ,tragic ,muse1 seem reserved for the bold adventurers of the other sex4 ,,nor does this assertion1 it is apprehended1 at all injure the interests of the women2 they have other pretensions1 on which to value themselves1 and other qualities much better calculated to answer their particular purposes4 ,we are enamoured of the soft strains of the ,sicilian and the ,mantuan ,muse1 while1 to the sweet notes of the pastoral reed1 they sing the ,contentions of the ,shepherds1 the ,blessings of ,love1 or the innocent ,delights of rural ,life4 ,has it ever been ascribed to them as a defect1 that their ,eclogues do not treat of active scenes1 of busy cities1 and of wasting war8 ,no3 their simplicity is their perfection1 and they are only blamed when they have too little of it4 ,,on the other hand1 the lofty bards who strung their bolder harps to higher measures1 and sung the ,wrath of ,peleus' ,son1 and ,man's first ,disobedience1 have never been censured for want of sweetness and refinement4 ,the sublime1 the nervous1 and the masculine1 characterise their compositions2 as the beautiful1 the soft1 and the delicate1 mark those of the others4 ,grandeur1 dignity1 and force1 distinguish the one species2 ease1 simplicity1 and purity1 the other4 ,both shine from their native1 distinct1 unborrowed merits1 not from those which are foreign1 adventitious1 and unnatural4 ,yet those excellencies1 which make up the essential and constituent parts of poetry1 they have in common4 ,,women have generally quicker perceptions2 men have juster sentiments4--,women consider how things may be prettily said2 men how they may be properly said4--,in women1 7young ones at least7 speaking accompanies1 and sometimes precedes reflection2 in men1 reflection is the antecedent4--,women speak to shine or to please2 men1 to convince or confute4--,women admire what is brilliant2 men what is solid4--,women prefer an extemporaneous sally of wit1 or a sparkling effusion of fancy1 before the most accurate reasoning1 or the most laborious investigation of facts4 ,in literary composition1 women are pleased with point1 turn1 and antithesis2 men with observation1 and a just deduction of effects from their causes4--,women are fond of incident1 men of argument4--,women admire passionately1 men approve cautiously4--,one sex will think it betrays a want of feeling to be moderate in their applause1 the other will be afraid of exposing a want of judgment by being in raptures with any thing4--,men refuse to give way to the emotions they actually feel1 while women sometimes affect to be transported beyond what the occasion will justify4 ,,as a farther confirmation of what has been advanced on the different bent of the understanding in the sexes1 it may be observed1 that we have heard of many female wits1 but never of one female logician--of many admirable writers of memoirs1 but never of one chronologer4--,in the boundless and arial regions of romance1 and in that fashionable species of composition which succeeded it1 and which carries a nearer approximation to the manners of the world1 the women cannot be excelled3 this imaginary soil they have a peculiar talent for cultivating1 because here1 ,invention labours more1 and judgment less4 ,,the merit of this kind of writing consists in the vraisemblance to real life as to the events themselves1 with a certain elevation in the narrative1 which places them1 if not above what is natural1 yet above what is common4 ,it farther consists in the art of interesting the tender feelings by a pathetic representation of those minute1 endearing1 domestic circumstances1 which take captive the soul before it has time to shield itself with the armour of reflection4 ,to amuse1 rather than to instruct1 or to instruct indirectly by short inferences1 drawn from a long concatenation of circumstances1 is at once the business of this sort of composition1 and one of the characteristics of female genius#a4 ,,in short1 it appears that the mind in each sex has some natural kind of bias1 which constitutes a distinction of character1 and that the happiness of both depends1 in a great measure1 on the preservation and observance of this distinction4 ,for where would be the superior pleasure and satisfaction resulting from mixed conversation1 if this difference were abolished8 ,if the qualities of both were invariably and exactly the same1 no benefit or entertainment would arise from the tedious and insipid uniformity of such an intercourse2 whereas considerable advantages are reaped from a select society of both sexes4 ,the rough angles and asperities of male manners are imperceptibly filed1 and gradually worn smooth1 by the polishing of female conversation1 and the refining of female taste2 while the ideas of women acquire strength and solidity1 by their associating with sensible1 intelligent1 and judicious men4 ,,on the whole1 7even if fame be the object of pursuit7 is it not better to succeed as women1 than to fail as men8 ,to shine1 by walking honourably in the road which nature1 custom1 and education seem to have marked out1 rather than to counteract them all1 by moving awkwardly in a path diametrically opposite8 ,to be good originals1 rather than bad imitators8 ,in a word1 to be excellent women1 rather than indifferent men8 #a ,,the author does not apprehend it makes against her ,,general position1 that this nation can boast a female critic1 poet1 historian1 linguist1 philosopher1 and moralist1 equal to most of the other sex4 ,to these particular instances others might be adduced2 but it is presumed1 that they only stand as exceptions against the rule1 without tending to invalidate the rule itself4 ,,on ,,dissipation4 ,,doglie ,,certe1 ,,allegrezze ,,incerte6 ,,petrarca4 ,,as an argument in favour of modern manners1 it has been pleaded1 that the softer vices of ,luxury and ,dissipation1 belong rather to gentle and yielding tempers1 than to such as are rugged and ferocious3 that they are vices which increase civilization1 and tend to promote refinement1 and the cultivation of humanity4 ,,but this is an assertion1 the truth of which the experience of all ages contradicts4 ,nero was not less a tyrant for being a fiddler3 ,he#b who wished the whole ,roman people had but one neck1 that he might dispatch them at a blow1 was himself the most debauched man in ,rome2 and ,sydney and ,russel were condemned to bleed under the most barbarous1 though most dissipated and voluptuous1 reign that ever disgraced the annals of ,britain4 ,,the love of dissipation is1 ,i believe1 allowed to be the reigning evil of the present day4 ,it is an evil which many content themselves with regretting1 without seeking to redress4 ,a dissipated life is censured in the very act of dissipation1 and prodigality of time is as gravely declaimed against at the card table1 as in the pulpit4 ,,the lover of dancing censures the amusements of the theatre for their dulness1 and the gamester blames them both for their levity4 ,she1 whose whole soul is swallowed up in opera extacies is astonished1 that her acquaintance can spend whole nights in preying1 like harpies1 on the fortunes of their fellow-creatures2 while the grave sober sinner1 who passes her pale and anxious vigils1 in this fashionable sort of pillaging1 is no less surprised how the other can waste her precious time in hearing sounds for which she has no taste1 in a language she does not understand4 ,,in short1 every one seems convinced1 that the evil so much complained of does really exist somewhere1 though all are inwardly persuaded that it is not with themselves4 ,all desire a general reformation1 but few will listen to proposals of particular amendment2 the body must be restored1 but each limb begs to remain as it is2 and accusations which concern all1 will be likely to affect none4 ,they think that sin1 like matter1 is divisible1 and that what is scattered among so many1 cannot materially affect any one2 and thus individuals contribute separately to that evil which they in general lament4 ,,the prevailing manners of an age depend more than we are aware1 or are willing to allow1 on the conduct of the women2 this is one of the principal hinges on which the great machine of human society turns4 ,those who allow the influence which female graces have1 in contributing to polish the manners of men1 would do well to reflect how great an influence female morals must also have on their conduct4 ,how much then is it to be regretted1 that the ,british ladies should ever sit down contented to polish1 when they are able to reform1 to entertain1 when they might instruct1 and to dazzle for an hour1 when they are candidates for eternity6 ,,under the dispensation of ,mahomet's law1 indeed1 these mental excellencies cannot be expected1 because the women are shut out from all opportunities of instruction1 and excluded from the endearing pleasures of a delightful and equal society2 and1 as a charming poet sings1 are taught to believe1 that ,for their inferior natures ,form'd to delight1 and happy by delighting1 ,heav'n has reserv'd no future paradise1 ,but bids them rove the paths of bliss1 secure ,of total death1 and careless of hereafter4 ,,irene4 ,,these act consistently in studying none but exterior graces1 in cultivating only personal attractions1 and in trying to lighten the intolerable burden of time1 by the most frivolous and vain amusements4 ,they act in consequence of their own blind belief1 and the tyranny of their despotic masters2 for they have neither the freedom of a present choice1 nor the prospect of a future being4 ,,but in this land of civil and religious liberty1 where there is as little despotism exercised over the minds1 as over the persons of women1 they have every liberty of choice1 and every opportunity of improvement2 and how greatly does this increase their obligation to be exemplary in their general conduct1 attentive to the government of their families1 and instrumental to the good order of society6 ,,she who is at a loss to find amusements at home1 can no longer apologize for her dissipation abroad1 by saying she is deprived of the benefit and the pleasure of books2 and she who regrets being doomed to a state of dark and gloomy ignorance1 by the injustice1 or tyranny of the men1 complains of an evil which does not exist4 ,,it is a question frequently in the mouths of illiterate and dissipated females--,what good is there in reading8 ,to what end does it conduce8 ,it is1 however1 too obvious to need insisting on1 that unless perverted1 as the best things may be1 reading answers many excellent purposes beside the great leading one1 and is perhaps the safest remedy for dissipation4 ,she who dedicates a portion of her leisure to useful reading1 feels her mind in a constant progressive state of improvement1 whilst the mind of a dissipated woman is continually losing ground4 ,an active spirit rejoiceth1 like the sun1 to run his daily course1 while indolence1 like the dial of ,ahaz1 goes backwards4 ,the advantages which the understanding receives from polite literature1 it is not here necessary to enumerate2 its effects on the moral temper is the present object of consideration4 ,the remark may perhaps be thought too strong1 but ,i believe it is true1 that next to religious influences1 an habit of study is the most probable preservative of the virtue of young persons4 ,those who cultivate letters have rarely a strong passion for promiscuous visiting1 or dissipated society2 study therefore induces a relish for domestic life1 the most desirable temper in the world for women4 ,study1 as it rescues the mind from an inordinate fondness for gaming1 dress1 and public amusements1 is an oeconomical propensity2 for a lady may read at much less expence than she can play at cards2 as it requires some application1 it gives the mind an habit of industry2 as it is a relief against that mental disease1 which the ,french emphatically call ennui1 it cannot fail of being beneficial to the temper and spirits1 ,i mean in the moderate degree in which ladies are supposed to use it2 as an enemy to indolence1 it becomes a social virtue2 as it demands the full exertion of our talents1 it grows a rational duty2 and when directed to the knowledge of the ,supreme ,being1 and his laws1 it rises into an act of religion4 ,,the rage for reformation commonly shews itself in a violent zeal for suppressing what is wrong1 rather than in a prudent attention to establish what is right2 but we shall never obtain a fair garden merely by rooting up weeds1 we must also plant flowers2 for the natural richness of the soil we have been clearing will not suffer it to lie barren1 but whether it shall be vainly or beneficially prolific1 depends on the culture4 ,what the present age has gained on one side1 by a more enlarged and liberal way of thinking1 seems to be lost on the other1 by excessive freedom and unbounded indulgence4 ,knowledge is not1 as heretofore1 confined to the dull cloyster1 or the gloomy college1 but disseminated1 to a certain degree1 among both sexes and almost all ranks4 ,the only misfortune is1 that these opportunities do not seem to be so wisely improved1 or turned to so good an account as might be wished4 ,books of a pernicious1 idle1 and frivolous sort1 are too much multiplied1 and it is from the very redundancy of them that true knowledge is so scarce1 and the habit of dissipation so much increased4 ,,it has been remarked1 that the prevailing character of the present age is not that of gross immorality3 but if this is meant of those in the higher walks of life1 it is easy to discern1 that there can be but little merit in abstaining from crimes which there is but little temptation to commit4 ,it is however to be feared1 that a gradual defection from piety1 will in time draw after it all the bad consequences of more active vice2 for whether mounds and fences are suddenly destroyed by a sweeping torrent1 or worn away through gradual neglect1 the effect is equally destructive4 ,as a rapid fever and a consuming hectic are alike fatal to our natural health1 so are flagrant immorality and torpid indolence to our moral well-being4 ,,the philosophical doctrine of the slow recession of bodies from the sun1 is a lively image of the reluctance with which we first abandon the light of virtue4 ,the beginning of folly1 and the first entrance on a dissipated life cost some pangs to a well-disposed heart2 but it is surprising to see how soon the progress ceases to be impeded by reflection1 or slackened by remorse4 ,for it is in moral as in natural things1 the motion in minds as well as bodies is accelerated by a nearer approach to the centre to which they are tending4 ,if we recede slowly at first setting out1 we advance rapidly in our future course2 and to have begun to be wrong1 is already to have made a great progress4 ,a ,,constant habit of amusement relaxes the tone of the mind1 and renders it totally incapable of application1 study1 or virtue4 ,dissipation not only indisposes its votaries to every thing useful and excellent1 but disqualifies them for the enjoyment of pleasure itself4 ,it softens the soul so much1 that the most superficial employment becomes a labour1 and the slightest inconvenience an agony4 ,the luxurious ,sybarite must have lost all sense of real enjoyment1 and all relish for true gratification1 before he complained that he could not sleep1 because the rose leaves lay double under him4 ,,luxury and dissipation1 soft and gentle as their approaches are1 and silently as they throw their silken chains about the heart1 enslave it more than the most active and turbulent vices4 ,the mightiest conquerors have been conquered by these unarmed foes3 the flowery setters are fastened1 before they are felt4 ,the blandishments of ,circe were more fatal to the mariners of ,ulysses1 than the strength of ,polypheme1 or the brutality of the ,lstrigons4 ,hercules1 after he had cleansed the ,augean stable1 and performed all the other labours enjoined him by ,euristheus1 found himself a slave to the softnesses of the heart2 and he1 who wore a club and a lion's skin in the cause of virtue1 condescended to the most effeminate employments to gratify a criminal weakness4 ,hannibal1 who vanquished mighty nations1 was himself overcome by the love of pleasure2 and he who despised cold1 and want1 and danger1 and death on the ,alps1 was conquered and undone by the dissolute indulgences of ,capua4 ,,before the hero of the most beautiful and virtuous romance that ever was written1 ,i mean ,telemachus1 landed on the island of ,cyprus1 he unfortunately lost his prudent companion1 ,mentor1 in whom wisdom is so finely personified4 ,at first he beheld with horror the wanton and dissolute manners of the voluptuous inhabitants2 the ill effects of their example were not immediate3 he did not fall into the commission of glaring enormities2 but his virtue was secretly and imperceptibly undermined1 his heart was softened by their pernicious society2 and the nerve of resolution was slackened3 he every day beheld with diminished indignation the worship which was offered to ,venus2 the disorders of luxury and prophaneness became less and less terrible1 and the infectious air of the country enfeebled his courage1 and relaxed his principles4 ,in short1 he had ceased to love virtue long before he thought of committing actual vice2 and the duties of a manly piety were burdensome to him1 before he was so debased as to offer perfumes1 and burn incense on the altar of the licentious goddess#c4 ,,let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they be withered1 said ,solomon's libertine4 ,alas6 he did not reflect that they withered in the very gathering4 ,the roses of pleasure seldom last long enough to adorn the brow of him who plucks them2 for they are the only roses which do not retain their sweetness after they have lost their beauty4 ,,the heathen poets often pressed on their readers the necessity of considering the shortness of life1 as an incentive to pleasure and voluptuousness2 lest the season for indulging in them should pass unimproved4 ,the dark and uncertain notions1 not to say the absolute disbelief1 which they entertained of a future state1 is the only apology that can be offered for this reasoning4 ,but while we censure their tenets1 let us not adopt their errors2 errors which would be infinitely more inexcusable in us1 who1 from the clearer views which revelation has given us1 shall not have their ignorance or their doubts to plead4 ,it were well if we availed ourselves of that portion of their precept1 which inculcates the improvement of every moment of our time1 but not like them to dedicate the moments so redeemed to the pursuit of sensual and perishable pleasures1 but to the securing of those which are spiritual in their nature1 and eternal in their duration4 ,,if1 indeed1 like the miserable#d beings imagined by ,swift1 with a view to cure us of the irrational desire after immoderate length of days1 we were condemned to a wretched earthly immortality1 we should have an excuse for spending some portion of our time in dissipation1 as we might then pretend1 with some colour of reason1 that we proposed1 at a distant period1 to enter on a better course of action4 ,or if we never formed any such resolution1 it would make no material difference to beings1 whose state was already unalterably fixed4 ,but of the scanty portion of days assigned to our lot1 not one should be lost in weak and irresolute procrastination4 ,,those who have not yet determined on the side of vanity1 who1 like ,hercules1 7before he knew the queen of ,lydia1 and had learnt to spin7 have not resolved on their choice between ,,virtue and ,,pleasure1 may reflect1 that it is still in their power to imitate that hero in his noble choice1 and in his virtuous rejection4 ,they may also reflect with grateful triumph1 that ,christianity furnishes them with a better guide than the tutor of ,alcides1 and with a surer light than the doctrines of pagan philosophy4 ,,it is far from my design severely to condemn the innocent pleasures of life3 ,i would only beg leave to observe1 that those which are criminal should never be allowed2 and that even the most innocent will1 by immoderate use1 soon cease to be so4 ,,the women of this country were not sent into the world to shun society1 but to embellish it2 they were not designed for wilds and solitudes1 but for the amiable and endearing offices of social life4 ,they have useful stations to fill1 and important characters to sustain4 ,they are of a religion which does not impose penances1 but enjoins duties2 a religion of perfect purity1 but of perfect benevolence also4 ,a religion which does not condemn its followers to indolent seclusion from the world1 but assigns them the more dangerous1 though more honourable province1 of living uncorrupted in it4 ,in fine1 a religion1 which does not direct them to fly from the multitude1 that they may do nothing1 but which positively forbids them to follow a multitude to do evil4 #b ,the ,emperor ,caligula4 #c ,,nothing can be more admirable than the manner in which this allegory is conducted2 and the whole work1 not to mention its images1 machinery1 and other poetical beauties1 is written in the very finest strain of morality4 ,in this latter respect it is evidently superior to the works of the ancients1 the moral of which is frequently tainted by the grossness of their mythology4 ,something of the purity of the ,christian religion may be discovered even in ,fenelon's heathens1 and they catch a tincture of piety in passing through the hands of that amiable prelate4 #d ,the ,struldbrugs4 ,see ,voyage to ,laputa4 ,,thoughts ,,on ,,conversation4 ,,it has been advised1 and by very respectable authorities too1 that in conversation women should carefully conceal any knowledge or learning they may happen to possess4 ,i own1 with submission1 that ,i do not see either the necessity or propriety of this advice4 ,for if a young lady has that discretion and modesty1 without which all knowledge is little worth1 she will never make an ostentatious parade of it1 because she will rather be intent on acquiring more1 than on displaying what she has4 ,i ,,am at a loss to know why a young female is instructed to exhibit1 in the most advantageous point of view1 her skill in music1 her singing1 dancing1 taste in dress1 and her acquaintance with the most fashionable games and amusements1 while her piety is to be anxiously concealed1 and her knowledge affectedly disavowed1 lest the former should draw on her the appellation of an enthusiast1 or the latter that of a pedant4 ,,in regard to knowledge1 why should she for ever affect to be on her guard1 lest she should be found guilty of a small portion of it8 ,she need be the less solicitous about it1 as it seldom proves to be so very considerable as to excite astonishment or admiration3 for1 after all the acquisitions which her talents and her studies have enabled her to make1 she will1 generally speaking1 be found to have less of what is called learning1 than a common school-boy4 ,,it would be to the last degree presumptuous and absurd1 for a young woman to pretend to give the ton to the company2 to interrupt the pleasure of others1 and her own opportunity of improvement1 by talking when she ought to listen2 or to introduce subjects out of the common road1 in order to shew her own wit1 or expose the want of it in others3 but were the sex to be totally silent when any topic of literature happens to be discussed in their presence1 conversation would lose much of its vivacity1 and society would be robbed of one of its most interesting charms4 ,,how easily and effectually may a well-bred woman promote the most useful and elegant conversation1 almost without speaking a word6 for the modes of speech are scarcely more variable than the modes of silence4 ,the silence of listless ignorance1 and the silence of sparkling intelligence1 are perhaps as separately marked1 and as distinctly expressed1 as the same feelings could have been by the most unequivocal language4 ,a woman1 in a company where she has the least influence1 may promote any subject by a profound and invariable attention1 which shews that she is pleased with it1 and by an illuminated countenance1 which proves she understands it4 ,this obliging attention is the most flattering encouragement in the world to men of sense and letters1 to continue any topic of instruction or entertainment they happen to be engaged in3 it owed its introduction perhaps to accident1 the best introduction in the world for a subject of ingenuity1 which1 though it could not have been formally proposed without pedantry1 may be continued with ease and good humour2 but which will be frequently and effectually stopped by the listlessness1 inattention1 or whispering of silly girls1 whose weariness betrays their ignorance1 and whose impatience exposes their ill-breeding4 ,a polite man1 however deeply interested in the subject on which he is conversing1 catches at the slightest hint to have done3 a look is a sufficient intimation1 and if a pretty simpleton1 who sits near him1 seems distraite1 he puts an end to his remarks1 to the great regret of the reasonable part of the company1 who perhaps might have gained more improvement by the continuance of such a conversation1 than a week's reading would have yielded them2 for it is such company as this1 that give an edge to each other's wit1 as iron sharpeneth iron4 ,,that silence is one of the great arts of conversation is allowed by ,cicero himself1 who says1 there is not only an art but even an eloquence in it4 ,and this opinion is confirmed by a great modern#e1 in the following little anecdote from one of the ancients4 ,,when many ,grecian philosophers had a solemn meeting before the ambassador of a foreign prince1 each endeavoured to shew his parts by the brilliancy of his conversation1 that the ambassador might have something to relate of the ,grecian wisdom4 ,one of them1 offended1 no doubt1 at the loquacity of his companions1 observed a profound silence2 when the ambassador1 turning to him1 asked1 ,but what have you to say1 that ,i may report it8 ,he made this laconic1 but very pointed reply3 ,tell your king1 that you have found one among the ,greeks who knew how to be silent4 ,,there is a quality infinitely more intoxicating to the female mind than knowledge--this is ,wit1 the most captivating1 but the most dreaded of all talents3 the most dangerous to those who have it1 and the most feared by those who have it not4 ,though it is against all the rules1 yet ,i cannot find in my heart to abuse this charming quality4 ,he who is grown rich without it1 in safe and sober dulness1 shuns it as a disease1 and looks upon poverty as its invariable concomitant4 ,the moralist declaims against it as the source of irregularity1 and the frugal citizen dreads it more than bankruptcy itself1 for he considers it as the parent of extravagance and beggary4 ,the ,cynic will ask of what use it is8 ,of very little perhaps3 no more is a flower garden1 and yet it is allowed as an object of innocent amusement and delightful recreation4 ,a woman1 who possesses this quality1 has received a most dangerous present1 perhaps not less so than beauty itself3 especially if it be not sheathed in a temper peculiarly inoffensive1 chastised by a most correct judgment1 and restrained by more prudence than falls to the common lot4 ,,this talent is more likely to make a woman vain than knowledge2 for as ,wit is the immediate property of its possessor1 and learning is only an acquaintance with the knowledge of other people1 there is much more danger1 that we should be vain of what is our own1 than of what we borrow4 ,,but ,wit1 like learning1 is not near so common a thing as is imagined4 ,let not therefore a young lady be alarmed at the acuteness of her own wit1 any more than at the abundance of her own knowledge4 ,the great danger is1 lest she should mistake pertness1 flippancy1 or imprudence1 for this brilliant quality1 or imagine she is witty1 only because she is indiscreet4 ,this is very frequently the case1 and this makes the name of wit so cheap1 while its real existence is so rare4 ,,lest the flattery of her acquaintance1 or an over-weening opinion of her own qualifications1 should lead some vain and petulant girl into a false notion that she has a great deal of wit1 when she has only a redundancy of animal spirits1 she may not find it useless to attend to the definition of this quality1 by one who had as large a portion of it1 as most individuals could ever boast3 ',tis not a tale1 'tis not a jest1 ,admir'd with laughter at a feast1 ,nor florid talk1 which can that title gain1 ,the proofs of wit for ever must remain4 ,neither can that have any place1 ,at which a virgin hides her face2 ,such dross the fire must purge away2 'tis just1 ,the author blush there1 where the reader must4 ,,cowley4 ,,but those who actually possess this rare talent1 cannot be too abstinent in the use of it4 ,it often makes admirers1 but it never makes friends2 ,i mean1 where it is the predominant feature2 and the unprotected and defenceless state of womanhood calls for friendship more than for admiration4 ,she who does not desire friends has a sordid and insensible soul2 but she who is ambitious of making every man her admirer1 has an invincible vanity and a cold heart4 ,,but to dwell only on the side of policy1 a prudent woman1 who has established the reputation of some genius will sufficiently maintain it1 without keeping her faculties always on the stretch to say good things4 ,nay1 if reputation alone be her object1 she will gain a more solid one by her forbearance1 as the wiser part of her acquaintance will ascribe it to the right motive1 which is1 not that she has less wit1 but that she has more judgment4 ,,the fatal fondness for indulging a spirit of ridicule1 and the injurious and irreparable consequences which sometimes attend the too prompt reply1 can never be too seriously or too severely condemned4 ,not to offend1 is the first step towards pleasing4 ,to give pain is as much an offence against humanity1 as against good breeding2 and surely it is as well to abstain from an action because it is sinful1 as because it is impolite4 ,in company1 young ladies would do well before they speak1 to reflect1 if what they are going to say may not distress some worthy person present1 by wounding them in their persons1 families1 connexions1 or religious opinions4 ,if they find it will touch them in either of these1 ,i should advise them to suspect1 that what they were going to say is not so very good a thing as they at first imagined4 ,nay1 if even it was one of those bright ideas1 which ,venus has imbued with a fifth part of her nectar1 so much greater will be their merit in suppressing it1 if there was a probability it might offend4 ,indeed1 if they have the temper and prudence to make such a previous reflection1 they will be more richly rewarded by their own inward triumph1 at having suppressed a lively but severe remark1 than they could have been with the dissembled applauses of the whole company1 who1 with that complaisant deceit1 which good breeding too much authorises1 affect openly to admire what they secretly resolve never to forgive4 ,i ,,have always been delighted with the story of the little girl's eloquence1 in one of the ,children's ,tales1 who received from a friendly fairy the gift1 that at every word she uttered1 pinks1 roses1 diamonds1 and pearls1 should drop from her mouth4 ,the hidden moral appears to be this1 that it was the sweetness of her temper which produced this pretty fanciful effect3 for when her malicious sister desired the same gift from the good-natured tiny ,intelligence1 the venom of her own heart converted it into poisonous and loathsome reptiles4 ,a ,,man of sense and breeding will sometimes join in the laugh1 which has been raised at his expence by an ill-natured repartee2 but if it was very cutting1 and one of those shocking sort of truths1 which as they can scarcely be pardoned even in private1 ought never to be uttered in public1 he does not laugh because he is pleased1 but because he wishes to conceal how much he is hurt4 ,as the sarcasm was uttered by a lady1 so far from seeming to resent it1 he will be the first to commend it2 but notwithstanding that1 he will remember it as a trait of malice1 when the whole company shall have forgotten it as a stroke of wit4 ,women are so far from being privileged by their sex to say unhandsome or cruel things1 that it is this very circumstance which renders them more intolerable4 ,when the arrow is lodged in the heart1 it is no relief to him who is wounded to reflect1 that the hand which shot it was a fair one4 ,,many women1 when they have a favourite point to gain1 or an earnest wish to bring any one over to their opinion1 often use a very disingenuous method3 they will state a case ambiguously1 and then avail themselves of it1 in whatever manner shall best answer their purpose2 leaving your mind in a state of indecision as to their real meaning1 while they triumph in the perplexity they have given you by the unfair conclusions they draw1 from premises equivocally stated4 ,they will also frequently argue from exceptions instead of rules1 and are astonished when you are not willing to be contented with a prejudice1 instead of a reason4 ,,in a sensible company of both sexes1 where women are not restrained by any other reserve than what their natural modesty imposes2 and where the intimacy of all parties authorises the utmost freedom of communication2 should any one inquire what were the general sentiments on some particular subject1 it will1 ,i believe1 commonly happen1 that the ladies1 whose imaginations have kept pace with the narration1 have anticipated its end1 and are ready to deliver their sentiments on it as soon as it is finished4 ,while some of the male hearers1 whose minds were busied in settling the propriety1 comparing the circumstances1 and examining the consistencies of what was said1 are obliged to pause and discriminate1 before they think of answering4 ,nothing is so embarrassing as a variety of matter1 and the conversation of women is often more perspicuous1 because it is less laboured4 ,a ,,man of deep reflection1 if he does not keep up an intimate commerce with the world1 will be sometimes so entangled in the intricacies of intense thought1 that he will have the appearance of a confused and perplexed expression2 while a sprightly woman will extricate herself with that lively and rash dexterity1 which will almost always please1 though it is very far from being always right4 ,it is easier to confound than to convince an opponent2 the former may be effected by a turn that has more happiness than truth in it4 ,many an excellent reasoner1 well skilled in the theory of the schools1 has felt himself discomfited by a reply1 which1 though as wide of the mark1 and as foreign to the question as can be conceived1 has disconcerted him more than the most startling proposition1 or the most accurate chain of reasoning could have done2 and he has borne the laugh of his fair antagonist1 as well as of the whole company1 though he could not but feel1 that his own argument was attended with the fullest demonstration3 so true is it1 that it is not always necessary to be right1 in order to be applauded4 ,,but let not a young lady's vanity be too much elated with this false applause1 which is given1 not to her merit1 but to her sex3 she has not perhaps gained a victory1 though she may be allowed a triumph2 and it should humble her to reflect1 that the tribute is paid1 not to her strength but her weakness4 ,it is worth while to discriminate between that applause1 which is given from the complaisance of others1 and that which is paid to our own merit4 ,,where great sprightliness is the natural bent of the temper1 girls should endeavour to habituate themselves to a custom of observing1 thinking1 and reasoning4 ,i do not mean1 that they should devote themselves to abstruse speculation1 or the study of logic2 but she who is accustomed to give a due arrangement to her thoughts1 to reason justly and pertinently on common affairs1 and judiciously to deduce effects from their causes1 will be a better logician than some of those who claim the name1 because they have studied the art3 this is being learned without the rules2 the best definition1 perhaps1 of that sort of literature which is properest for the sex4 ,that species of knowledge1 which appears to be the result of reflection rather than of science1 sits peculiarly well on women4 ,it is not uncommon to find a lady1 who1 though she does not know a rule of ,syntax1 scarcely ever violates one2 and who constructs every sentence she utters1 with more propriety than many a learned dunce1 who has every rule of ,aristotle by heart1 and who can lace his own thread-bare discourse with the golden shreds of ,cicero and ,virgil4 ,,it has been objected1 and ,i fear with some reason1 that female conversation is too frequently tinctured with a censorious spirit1 and that ladies are seldom apt to discover much tenderness for the errors of a fallen sister4 ,if it be so1 it is a grievous fault4 ,,no arguments can justify1 no pleas can extenuate it4 ,to insult over the miseries of an unhappy creature is inhuman1 not to compassionate them is unchristian4 ,the worthy part of the sex always express themselves humanely on the failings of others1 in proportion to their own undeviating goodness4 ,,and here ,i cannot help remarking1 that young women do not always carefully distinguish between running into the error of detraction1 and its opposite extreme of indiscriminate applause4 ,this proceeds from the false idea they entertain1 that the direct contrary to what is wrong must be right4 ,thus the dread of being only suspected of one fault makes them actually guilty of another4 ,the desire of avoiding the imputation of envy1 impels them to be insincere2 and to establish a reputation for sweetness of temper and generosity1 they affect sometimes to speak of very indifferent characters with the most extravagant applause4 ,with such1 the hyperbole is a favourite figure2 and every degree of comparison but the superlative is rejected1 as cold and inexpressive4 ,but this habit of exaggeration greatly weakens their credit1 and destroys the weight of their opinion on other occasions2 for people very soon discover what degree of faith is to be given both to their judgment and veracity4 ,and those of real merit will no more be flattered by that approbation1 which cannot distinguish the value of what it praises1 than the celebrated painter must have been at the judgment passed on his works by an ignorant spectator1 who1 being asked what he thought of such and such very capital but very different pieces1 cried out in an affected rapture1 ,all alike6 all alike6 ,,it has been proposed to the young1 as a maxim of supreme wisdom1 to manage so dexterously in conversation1 as to appear to be well acquainted with subjects1 of which they are totally ignorant2 and this1 by affecting silence in regard to those1 on which they are known to excel4--,but why counsel this disingenuous fraud8 ,why add to the numberless arts of deceit1 this practice of deceiving1 as it were1 on a settled principle8 ,if to disavow the knowledge they really have be a culpable affectation1 then certainly to insinuate an idea of their skill1 where they are actually ignorant1 is a most unworthy artifice4 ,,but of all the qualifications for conversation1 humility1 if not the most brilliant1 is the safest1 the most amiable1 and the most feminine4 ,the affectation of introducing subjects1 with which others are unacquainted1 and of displaying talents superior to the rest of the company1 is as dangerous as it is foolish4 ,there are many1 who never can forgive another for being more agreeable and more accomplished than themselves1 and who can pardon any offence rather than an eclipsing merit4 ,had the nightingale in the fable conquered his vanity1 and resisted the temptation of shewing a fine voice1 he might have escaped the talons of the hawk4 ,the melody of his singing was the cause of his destruction2 his merit brought him into danger1 and his vanity cost him his life4 #e ,lord ,bacon4 ,,on ,,envy4 ,envy came next1 ,envy with squinting eyes1 ,sick of a strange disease1 his neighbour's health2 ,best then he lives when any better dies1 ,is never poor but in another's wealth3 ,on best mens harms and griefs he feeds his fill1 ,else his own maw doth eat with spiteful will1 ,ill must the temper be1 where diet is so ill4 ,,fletcher',s ,,purple ,,island4 ,,envy1 7says ,lord ,bacon7 has no holidays4 ,there cannot perhaps be a more lively and striking description of the miserable state of mind those endure1 who are tormented with this vice4 ,a spirit of emulation has been supposed to be the source of the greatest improvements2 and there is no doubt but the warmest rivalship will produce the most excellent effects2 but it is to be feared1 that a perpetual state of contest will injure the temper so essentially1 that the mischief will hardly be counterbalanced by any other advantages4 ,those1 whose progress is the most rapid1 will be apt to despise their less successful competitors1 who1 in return1 will feel the bitterest resentment against their more fortunate rivals4 ,among persons of real goodness1 this jealousy and contempt can never be equally felt1 because every advancement in piety will be attended with a proportionable increase of humility1 which will lead them to contemplate their own improvements with modesty1 and to view with charity the miscarriages of others4 ,,when an envious man is melancholy1 one may ask him1 in the words of ,bion1 what evil has befallen himself1 or what good has happened to another8 ,this last is the scale by which he principally measures his felicity1 and the very smiles of his friends are so many deductions from his own happiness4 ,the wants of others are the standard by which he rates his own wealth1 and he estimates his riches1 not so much by his own possessions1 as by the necessities of his neighbours4 ,,when the malevolent intend to strike a very deep and dangerous stroke of malice1 they generally begin the most remotely in the world from the subject nearest their hearts4 ,they set out with commending the object of their envy for some trifling quality or advantage1 which it is scarcely worth while to possess3 they next proceed to make a general profession of their own good-will and regard for him3 thus artfully removing any suspicion of their design1 and clearing all obstructions for the insidious stab they are about to give2 for who will suspect them of an intention to injure the object of their peculiar and professed esteem8 ,the hearer's belief of the fact grows in proportion to the seeming reluctance with which it is told1 and to the conviction he has1 that the relater is not influenced by any private pique1 or personal resentment2 but that the confession is extorted from him sorely against his inclination1 and purely on account of his zeal for truth4 ,,anger is less reasonable and more sincere than envy4--,anger breaks out abruptly2 envy is a great prefacer--anger wishes to be understood at once3 envy is fond of remote hints and ambiguities2 but1 obscure as its oracles are1 it never ceases to deliver them till they are perfectly comprehended3--anger repeats the same circumstances over again2 envy invents new ones at every fresh recital--anger gives a broken1 vehement1 and interrupted narrative2 envy tells a more consistent and more probable1 though a falser tale--anger is excessively imprudent1 for it is impatient to disclose every thing it knows2 envy is discreet1 for it has a great deal to hide--anger never consults times or seasons2 envy waits for the lucky moment1 when the wound it meditates may be made the most exquisitely painful1 and the most incurably deep--anger uses more invective2 envy does more mischief--simple anger soon runs itself out of breath1 and is exhausted at the end of its tale2 but it is for that chosen period that envy has treasured up the most barbed arrow in its whole quiver--anger puts a man out of himself3 but the truly malicious generally preserve the appearance of self-possession1 or they could not so effectually injure4--,the angry man sets out by destroying his whole credit with you at once1 for he very frankly confesses his abhorrence and detestation of the object of his abuse2 while the envious man carefully suppresses all his own share in the affair4--,the angry man defeats the end of his resentment1 by keeping himself continually before your eyes1 instead of his enemy2 while the envious man artfully brings forward the object of his malice1 and keeps himself out of sight4--,the angry man talks loudly of his own wrongs2 the envious of his adversary's injustice4--,a passionate person1 if his resentments are not complicated with malice1 divides his time between sinning and sorrowing2 and1 as the irascible passions cannot constantly be at work1 his heart may sometimes get a holiday4--,anger is a violent act1 envy a constant habit--no one can be always angry1 but he may be always envious3--an angry man's enmity 7if he be generous7 will subside when the object of his resentment becomes unfortunate2 but the envious man can extract food from his malice out of calamity itself1 if he finds his adversary bears it with dignity1 or is pitied or assisted in it4 ,the rage of the passionate man is totally extinguished by the death of his enemy2 but the hatred of the malicious is not buried even in the grave of his rival3 he will envy the good name he has left behind him2 he will envy him the tears of his widow1 the prosperity of his children1 the esteem of his friends1 the praises of his epitaph--nay the very magnificence of his funeral4 ,,the ear of jealousy heareth all things1 7says the wise man7 frequently ,i believe more than is uttered1 which makes the company of persons infected with it still more dangerous4 ,,when you tell those of a malicious turn1 any circumstance that has happened to another1 though they perfectly know of whom you are speaking1 they often affect to be at a loss1 to forget his name1 or to misapprehend you in some respect or other2 and this merely to have an opportunity of slily gratifying their malice by mentioning some unhappy defect or personal infirmity he labours under2 and not contented to tack his every error to his name1 they will1 by way of farther explanation1 have recourse to the faults of his father1 or the misfortunes of his family2 and this with all the seeming simplicity and candor in the world1 merely for the sake of preventing mistakes1 and to clear up every doubt of his identity4--,if you are speaking of a lady1 for instance1 they will perhaps embellish their inquiries1 by asking if you mean her1 whose great grandfather was a bankrupt1 though she has the vanity to keep a chariot1 while others who are much better born walk on foot2 or they will afterwards recollect1 that you may possibly mean her cousin1 of the same name1 whose mother was suspected of such or such an indiscretion1 though the daughter had the luck to make her fortune by marrying1 while her betters are overlooked4 ,,to hint at a fault1 does more mischief than speaking out2 for whatever is left for the imagination to finish1 will not fail to be overdone3 every hiatus will be more then filled up1 and every pause more than supplied4 ,there is less malice1 and less mischief too1 in telling a man's name than the initials of it2 as a worthier person may be involved in the most disgraceful suspicions by such a dangerous ambiguity4 ,,it is not uncommon for the envious1 after having attempted to deface the fairest character so industriously1 that they are afraid you will begin to detect their malice1 to endeavour to remove your suspicions effectually1 by assuring you1 that what they have just related is only the popular opinion2 they themselves can never believe things are so bad as they are said to be2 for their part1 it is a rule with them always to hope the best4 ,it is their way never to believe or report ill of any one4 ,they will1 however1 mention the story in all companies1 that they may do their friend the service of protesting their disbelief of it4 ,more reputations are thus hinted away by false friends1 than are openly destroyed by public enemies4 ,an if1 or a but1 or a mortified look1 or a languid defence1 or an ambiguous shake of the head1 or a hasty word affectedly recalled1 will demolish a character more effectually1 than the whole artillery of malice when openly levelled against it4 ,,it is not that envy never praises--,no1 that would be making a public profession of itself1 and advertising its own malignity2 whereas the greatest success of its efforts depends on the concealment of their end4 ,when envy intends to strike a stroke of ,machiavelian policy1 it sometimes affects the language of the most exaggerated applause2 though it generally takes care1 that the subject of its panegyric shall be a very indifferent and common character1 so that it is well aware none of its praises will stick4 ,,it is the unhappy nature of envy not to be contented with positive misery1 but to be continually aggravating its own torments1 by comparing them with the felicities of others4 ,the eyes of envy are perpetually fixed on the object which disturbs it1 nor can it avert them from it1 though to procure itself the relief of a temporary forgetfulness4 ,on seeing the innocence of the first pair1 ,aside the devil turn'd1 ,for ,envy1 yet with jealous leer malign1 ,eyed them askance4 ,as this enormous sin chiefly instigated the revolt1 and brought on the ruin of the angelic spirits1 so it is not improbable1 that it will be a principal instrument of misery in a future world1 for the envious to compare their desperate condition with the happiness of the children of ,god2 and to heighten their actual wretchedness by reflecting on what they have lost4 ,,perhaps envy1 like lying and ingratitude1 is practised with more frequency1 because it is practised with impunity2 but there being no human laws against these crimes1 is so far from an inducement to commit them1 that this very consideration would be sufficient to deter the wise and good1 if all others were ineffectual2 for of how heinous a nature must those sins be1 which are judged above the reach of human punishment1 and are reserved for the final justice of ,god himself6 ,,on ,,the ,,danger ,,of ,,sentimental ,,or ,,romantic ,,connexions4 ,,among the many evils which prevail under the sun1 the abuse of words is not the least considerable4 ,by the influence of time1 and the perversion of fashion1 the plainest and most unequivocal may be so altered1 as to have a meaning assigned them almost diametrically opposite to their original signification4 ,,the present age may be termed1 by way of distinction1 the age of sentiment1 a word which1 in the implication it now bears1 was unknown to our plain ancestors4 ,sentiment is the varnish of virtue to conceal the deformity of vice2 and it is not uncommon for the same persons to make a jest of religion1 to break through the most solemn ties and engagements1 to practise every art of latent fraud and open seduction1 and yet to value themselves on speaking and writing sentimentally4 ,,but this refined jargon1 which has infested letters and tainted morals1 is chiefly admired and adopted by young ladies of a certain turn1 who read sentimental books1 write sentimental letters1 and contract sentimental friendships4 ,,error is never likely to do so much mischief as when it disguises its real tendency1 and puts on an engaging and attractive appearance4 ,many a young woman1 who would be shocked at the imputation of an intrigue1 is extremely flattered at the idea of a sentimental connexion1 though perhaps with a dangerous and designing man1 who1 by putting on this mask of plausibility and virtue1 disarms her of her prudence1 lays her apprehensions asleep1 and involves her in misery2 misery the more inevitable because unsuspected4 ,for she who apprehends no danger1 will not think it necessary to be always upon her guard2 but will rather invite than avoid the ruin which comes under so specious and so fair a form4 ,,such an engagement will be infinitely dearer to her vanity than an avowed and authorised attachment2 for one of these sentimental lovers will not scruple very seriously to assure a credulous girl1 that her unparalleled merit entitles her to the adoration of the whole world1 and that the universal homage of mankind is nothing more than the unavoidable tribute extorted by her charms4 ,no wonder then she should be easily prevailed on to believe1 that an individual is captivated by perfections which might enslave a million4 ,but she should remember1 that he who endeavours to intoxicate her with adulation1 intends one day most effectually to humble her4 ,for an artful man has always a secret design to pay himself in future for every present sacrifice4 ,and this prodigality of praise1 which he now appears to lavish with such thoughtless profusion1 is1 in fact1 a sum oeconomically laid out to supply his future necessities3 of this sum he keeps an exact estimate1 and at some distant day promises himself the most exorbitant interest for it4 ,if he has address and conduct1 and1 the object of his pursuit much vanity1 and some sensibility1 he seldom fails of success2 for so powerful will be his ascendancy over her mind1 that she will soon adopt his notions and opinions4 ,indeed1 it is more than probable she possessed most of them before1 having gradually acquired them in her initiation into the sentimental character4 ,to maintain that character with dignity and propriety1 it is necessary she should entertain the most elevated ideas of disproportionate alliances1 and disinterested love2 and consider fortune1 rank1 and reputation1 as mere chimerical distinctions and vulgar prejudices4 ,,the lover1 deeply versed in all the obliquities of fraud1 and skilled to wind himself into every avenue of the heart which indiscretion has left unguarded1 soon discovers on which side it is most accessible4 ,he avails himself of this weakness by addressing her in a language exactly consonant to her own ideas4 ,he attacks her with her own weapons1 and opposes rhapsody to sentiment--,he professes so sovereign a contempt for the paltry concerns of money1 that she thinks it her duty to reward him for so generous a renunciation4 ,every plea he artfully advances of his own unworthiness1 is considered by her as a fresh demand which her gratitude must answer4 ,and she makes it a point of honour to sacrifice to him that fortune which he is too noble to regard4 ,these professions of humility are the common artifice of the vain1 and these protestations of generosity the refuge of the rapacious4 ,and among its many smooth mischiefs1 it is one of the sure and successful frauds of sentiment1 to affect the most frigid indifference to those external and pecuniary advantages1 which it is its great and real object to obtain4 ,a ,,sentimental girl very rarely entertains any doubt of her personal beauty2 for she has been daily accustomed to contemplate it herself1 and to hear of it from others4 ,she will not1 therefore1 be very solicitous for the confirmation of a truth so self-evident2 but she suspects1 that her pretensions to understanding are more likely to be disputed1 and1 for that reason1 greedily devours every compliment offered to those perfections1 which are less obvious and more refined4 ,she is persuaded1 that men need only open their eyes to decide on her beauty1 while it will be the most convincing proof of the taste1 sense1 and elegance of her admirer1 that he can discern and flatter those qualities in her4 ,a man of the character here supposed1 will easily insinuate himself into her affections1 by means of this latent but leading foible1 which may be called the guiding clue to a sentimental heart4 ,he will affect to overlook that beauty which attracts common eyes1 and ensnares common hearts1 while he will bestow the most delicate praises on the beauties of her mind1 and finish the climax of adulation1 by hinting that she is superior to it4 ,and when he tells her she hates flattery1 ,she says she does1 being then most flatter'd4 ,,but nothing1 in general1 can end less delightfully than these sublime attachments1 even where no acts of seduction were ever practised1 but they are suffered1 like mere sublunary connexions1 to terminate in the vulgar catastrophe of marriage4 ,that wealth1 which lately seemed to be looked on with ineffable contempt by the lover1 now appears to be the principal attraction in the eyes of the husband2 and he1 who but a few short weeks before1 in a transport of sentimental generosity1 wished her to have been a village maid1 with no portion but her crook and her beauty1 and that they might spend their days in pastoral love and innocence1 has now lost all relish for the ,arcadian life1 or any other life in which she must be his companion4 ,,on the other hand1 she who was lately ,an angel call'd1 and angel-like ador'd1 is shocked to find herself at once stripped of all her celestial attributes4 ,this late divinity1 who scarcely yielded to her sisters of the sky1 now finds herself of less importance in the esteem of the man she has chosen1 than any other mere mortal woman4 ,no longer is she gratified with the tear of counterfeited passion1 the sigh of dissembled rapture1 or the language of premeditated adoration4 ,no longer is the altar of her vanity loaded with the oblations of fictitious fondness1 the incense of falsehood1 or the sacrifice of flattery4--,her apotheosis is ended6--,she feels herself degraded from the dignities and privileges of a goddess1 to all the imperfections1 vanities1 and weaknesses of a slighted woman1 and a neglected wife4 ,her faults1 which were so lately overlooked1 or mistaken for virtues1 are now1 as ,cassius says1 set in a note-book4 ,the passion1 which was vowed eternal1 lasted only a few short weeks2 and the indifference1 which was so far from being included in the bargain1 that it was not so much as suspected1 follows them through the whole tiresome journey of their insipid1 vacant1 joyless existence4 ,,thus much for the completion of the sentimental history4 ,if we trace it back to its beginning1 we shall find that a damsel of this cast had her head originally turned by pernicious reading1 and her insanity confirmed by imprudent friendships4 ,she never fails to select a beloved confidante of her own turn and humour1 though1 if she can help it1 not quite so handsome as herself4 ,a violent intimacy ensues1 or1 to speak the language of sentiment1 an intimate union of souls immediately takes place1 which is wrought to the highest pitch by a secret and voluminous correspondence1 though they live in the same street1 or perhaps in the same house4 ,this is the fuel which principally feeds and supplies the dangerous flame of sentiment4 ,in this correspondence the two friends encourage each other in the falsest notions imaginable4 ,they represent romantic love as the great important business of human life1 and describe all the other concerns of it as too low and paltry to merit the attention of such elevated beings1 and fit only to employ the daughters of the plodding vulgar4 ,in these letters1 family affairs are misrepresented1 family secrets divulged1 and family misfortunes aggravated4 ,they are filled with vows of eternal amity1 and protestations of never-ending love4 ,but interjections and quotations are the principal embellishments of these very sublime epistles4 ,every panegyric contained in them is extravagant and hyperbolical1 and every censure exaggerated and excessive4 ,in a favourite1 every frailty is heightened into a perfection1 and in a foe degraded into a crime4 ,the dramatic poets1 especially the most tender and romantic1 are quoted in almost every line1 and every pompous or pathetic thought is forced to give up its natural and obvious meaning1 and with all the violence of misapplication1 is compelled to suit some circumstance of imaginary woe of the fair transcriber4 ,alicia is not too mad for her heroics1 nor ,monimia too mild for her soft emotions4 ,,fathers have flinty hearts is an expression worth an empire1 and is always used with peculiar emphasis and enthusiasm4 ,for a favourite topic of these epistles is the groveling spirit and sordid temper of the parents1 who will be sure to find no quarter at the hands of their daughters1 should they presume to be so unreasonable as to direct their course of reading1 interfere in their choice of friends1 or interrupt their very important correspondence4 ,but as these young ladies are fertile in expedients1 and as their genius is never more agreeably exercised than in finding resources1 they are not without their secret exultation1 in case either of the above interesting events should happen1 as they carry with them a certain air of tyranny and persecution which is very delightful4 ,for a prohibited correspondence is one of the great incidents of a sentimental life1 and a letter clandestinely received1 the supreme felicity of a sentimental lady4 ,,nothing can equal the astonishment of these soaring spirits1 when their plain friends or prudent relations presume to remonstrate with them on any impropriety in their conduct4 ,but if these worthy people happen to be somewhat advanced in life1 their contempt is then a little softened by pity1 at the reflection that such very antiquated poor creatures should pretend to judge what is fit or unfit for ladies of their great refinement1 sense1 and reading4 ,they consider them as wretches utterly ignorant of the sublime pleasures of a delicate and exalted passion2 as tyrants whose authority is to be contemned1 and as spies whose vigilance is to be eluded4 ,the prudence of these worthy friends they term suspicion1 and their experience dotage4 ,for they are persuaded1 that the face of things has so totally changed since their parents were young1 that though they might then judge tolerably for themselves1 yet they are now 7with all their advantages of knowledge and observation7 by no means qualified to direct their more enlightened daughters2 who1 if they have made a great progress in the sentimental walk1 will no more be influenced by the advice of their mother1 than they would go abroad in her laced pinner or her brocade suit4 ,,but young people never shew their folly and ignorance more conspicuously1 than by this over-confidence in their own judgment1 and this haughty disdain of the opinion of those who have known more days4 ,youth has a quickness of apprehension1 which it is very apt to mistake for an acuteness of penetration4 ,but youth1 like cunning1 though very conceited1 is very short-sighted1 and never more so than when it disregards the instructions of the wife1 and the admonitions of the aged4 ,the same vices and follies influenced the human heart in their day1 which influence it now1 and nearly in the same manner4 ,one who well knew the world and its various vanities1 has said1 ,the thing which hath been1 it is that which shall be1 and that which is done is that which shall be done1 and there is no new thing under the sun4 ,,it is also a part of the sentimental character1 to imagine that none but the young and the beautiful have any right to the pleasures of society1 of even to the common benefits and blessings of life4 ,ladies of this turn also affect the most lofty disregard for useful qualities and domestic virtues2 and this is a natural consequence3 for as this sort of sentiment is only a weed of idleness1 she who is constantly and usefully employed1 has neither leisure nor propensity to cultivate it4 ,a ,,sentimental lady principally values herself on the enlargement of her notions1 and her liberal way of thinking4 ,this superiority of soul chiefly manifests itself in the contempt of those minute delicacies and little decorums1 which1 trifling as they may be thought1 tend at once to dignify the character1 and to restrain the levity of the younger part of the sex4 ,,perhaps the error here complained of1 originates in mistaking sentiment and principle for each other4 ,now ,i conceive them to be extremely different4 ,sentiment is the virtue of ideas1 and principle the virtue of action4 ,sentiment has its seat in the head1 principle in the heart4 ,sentiment suggests fine harangues and subtile distinctions2 principle conceives just notions1 and performs good actions in consequence of them4 ,sentiment refines away the simplicity of truth and the plainness of piety2 and1 as a celebrated wit#f has remarked of his no less celebrated contemporary1 gives us virtue in words and vice in deeds4 ,sentiment may be called the ,athenian1 who knew what was right1 and principle the ,lacedemonian who practised it4 ,,but these qualities will be better exemplified by an attentive consideration of two admirably drawn characters of ,milton1 which are beautifully1 delicately1 and distinctly marked4 ,these are1 ,belial1 who may not improperly be called the ,demon of ,sentiment2 and ,abdiel1 who may be termed the ,angel of ,principle4 ,,survey the picture of ,belial1 drawn by the sublimest hand that ever held the poetic pencil4 ,a fairer person lost not heav'n2 he seem'd ,for dignity compos'd1 and high exploit1 ,but all was false and hollow1 tho' his tongue ,dropt manna1 and could make the worse appear ,the better reason1 to perplex and dash ,maturest counsels1 for his thoughts were low1 ,to vice industrious1 but to nobler deeds ,tim'rous and slothful2 yet he pleas'd the ear4 ,,paradise ,,lost1 ,b4 ,,ii4 ,,here is a lively and exquisite representation of art1 subtilty1 wit1 fine breeding and polished manners3 on the whole1 of a very accomplished and sentimental spirit4 ,,now turn to the artless1 upright1 and unsophisticated ,abdiel1 ,faithful found ,among the faithless1 faithful only he ,among innumerable false1 unmov'd1 ,unshaken1 unseduc'd1 unterrified2 ,his loyalty he kept1 his love1 his zeal4 ,nor number1 nor example with him wrought ,to swerve from truth1 or change his constant mind1 ,though single4 ,,book ,v4 ,,but it is not from these descriptions1 just and striking as they are1 that their characters are so perfectly known1 as from an examination of their conduct through the remainder of this divine work3 in which it is well worth while to remark the consonancy of their actions1 with what the above pictures seem to promise4 ,it will also be observed1 that the contrast between them is kept up throughout1 with the utmost exactness of delineation1 and the most animated strength of colouring4 ,on a review it will be found1 that ,belial talked all1 and ,abdiel did all4 ,the former1 ,with words still cloath'd in reason's guise1 ,counsel'd ignoble ease1 and peaceful sloth1 ,not peace4 ,,book ,,ii4 ,,in ,abdiel you will constantly find the eloquence of action4 ,when tempted by the rebellious angels1 with what retorted scorn1 with what honest indignation he deserts their multitudes1 and retreats from their contagious society6 ,all night the dreadless angel unpursued ,through heaven's wide champain held his way4 ,,book ,,vi4 ,,no wonder he was received with such acclamations of joy by the celestial powers1 when there was ,but one1 ,yes1 of so many myriads fall'n1 but one ,return'd not lost4 ,,ibid4 ,,and afterwards1 in a close contest with the arch fiend1 ,a noble stroke he lifted high ,on the proud crest of ,satan4 ,,ibid4 ,,what was the effect of this courage of the vigilant and active seraph8 ,amazement seiz'd ,the rebel throne1 but greater rage to see ,thus foil'd their mightiest4 ,,abdiel had the superiority of ,belial as much in the warlike combat1 as in the peaceful counsels4 ,nor was it ought but just1 ,that he who in debate of truth had won1 ,shou'd win in arms1 in both disputes alike ,victor4 ,,but notwithstanding ,i have spoken with some asperity against sentiment as opposed to principle1 yet ,i am convinced1 that true genuine sentiment1 7not the sort ,i have been describing7 may be so connected with principle1 as to bestow on it its brightest lustre1 and its most captivating graces4 ,and enthusiasm is so far from being disagreeable1 that a portion of it is perhaps indispensably necessary in an engaging woman4 ,but it must be the enthusiasm of the heart1 not of the senses4 ,it must be the enthusiasm which grows up with a feeling mind1 and is cherished by a virtuous education2 not that which is compounded of irregular passions1 and artificially refined by books of unnatural fiction and improbable adventure4 ,i will even go so far as to assert1 that a young woman cannot have any real greatness of soul1 or true elevation of principle1 if she has not a tincture of what the vulgar would call ,romance1 but which persons of a certain way of thinking will discern to proceed from those fine feelings1 and that charming sensibility1 without which1 though a woman may be worthy1 yet she can never be amiable4 ,,but this dangerous merit cannot be too rigidly watched1 as it is very apt to lead those who possess it into inconveniencies from which less interesting characters are happily exempt4 ,young women of strong sensibility may be carried by the very amiableness of this temper into the most alarming extremes4 ,their tastes are passions4 ,they love and hate with all their hearts1 and scarcely suffer themselves to feel a reasonable preference before it strengthens into a violent attachment4 ,,when an innocent girl of this open1 trusting1 tender heart1 happens to meet with one of her own sex and age1 whose address and manners are engaging1 she is instantly seized with an ardent desire to commence a friendship with her4 ,she feels the most lively impatience at the restraints of company1 and the decorums of ceremony4 ,she longs to be alone with her1 longs to assure her of the warmth of her tenderness1 and generously ascribes to the fair stranger all the good qualities she feels in her own heart1 or rather all those which she has met with in her reading1 dispersed in a variety of heroines4 ,she is persuaded1 that her new friend unites them all in herself1 because she carries in her prepossessing countenance the promise of them all4 ,how cruel and how censorious would this inexperienced girl think her mother was1 who should venture to hint1 that the agreeable unknown had defects in her temper1 or exceptions in her character4 ,she would mistake these hints of discretion for the insinuations of an uncharitable disposition4 ,at first she would perhaps listen to them with a generous impatience1 and afterwards with a cold and silent disdain4 ,she would despise them as the effect of prejudice1 misrepresentation1 or ignorance4 ,the more aggravated the censure1 the more vehemently would she protest in secret1 that her friendship for this dear injured creature 7who is raised much higher in her esteem by such injurious suspicions7 shall know no bounds1 as she is assured it can know no end4 ,,yet this trusting confidence1 this honest indiscretion1 is1 at this early period of life as amiable as it is natural2 and will1 if wisely cultivated1 produce1 at its proper season1 fruits infinitely more valuable than all the guarded circumspection of premature1 and therefore artificial1 prudence4 ,men1 ,i believe1 are seldom struck with these sudden prepossessions in favour of each other4 ,they are not so unsuspecting1 nor so easily led away by the predominance of fancy4 ,they engage more warily1 and pass through the several stages of acquaintance1 intimacy1 and confidence1 by slower gradations2 but women1 if they are sometimes deceived in the choice of a friend1 enjoy even then an higher degree of satisfaction than if they never trusted4 ,for to be always clad in the burthensome armour of suspicion is more painful and inconvenient1 than to run the hazard of suffering now and then a transient injury4 ,,but the above observations only extend to the young and the inexperienced2 for ,i am very certain1 that women are capable of as faithful and as durable friendship as any of the other sex4 ,they can enter not only into all the enthusiastic tenderness1 but into all the solid fidelity of attachment4 ,and if we cannot oppose instances of equal weight with those of ,nysus and ,euryalus1 ,theseus and ,pirithous1 ,pylades and ,orestes1 let it be remembered1 that it is because the recorders of those characters were men1 and that the very existence of them is merely poetical4 #f ,see ,voltaire's ,prophecy concerning ,rousseau4 ,,on ,,true ,,and ,,false ,,meekness4 ,a ,,low voice and soft address are the common indications of a well-bred woman1 and should seem to be the natural effects of a meek and quiet spirit2 but they are only the outward and visible signs of it3 for they are no more meekness itself1 than a red coat is courage1 or a black one devotion4 ,,yet nothing is more common than to mistake the sign for the thing itself2 nor is any practice more frequent than that of endeavouring to acquire the exterior mark1 without once thinking to labour after the interior grace4 ,surely this is beginning at the wrong end1 like attacking the symptom and neglecting the disease4 ,to regulate the features1 while the soul is in tumults1 or to command the voice while the passions are without restraint1 is as idle as throwing odours into a stream when the source is polluted4 ,,the sapient king1 who knew better than any man the nature and the power of beauty1 has assured us1 that the temper of the mind has a strong influence upon the features3 ,wisdom maketh the face to shine1 says that exquisite judge2 and surely no part of wisdom is more likely to produce this amiable effect1 than a placid serenity of soul4 ,,it will not be difficult to distinguish the true from the artificial meekness4 ,the former is universal and habitual1 the latter1 local and temporary4 ,every young female may keep this rule by her1 to enable her to form a just judgment of her own temper3 if she is not as gentle to her chambermaid as she is to her visitor1 she may rest satisfied that the spirit of gentleness is not in her4 ,,who would not be shocked and disappointed to behold a well-bred young lady1 soft and engaging as the doves of ,venus1 displaying a thousand graces and attractions to win the hearts of a large company1 and the instant they are gone1 to see her look mad as the ,pythian maid1 and all the frightened graces driven from her furious countenance1 only because her gown was brought home a quarter of an hour later than she expected1 or her ribbon sent half a shade lighter or darker than she ordered8 ,,all men's characters are said to proceed from their servants2 and this is more particularly true of ladies3 for as their situations are more domestic1 they lie more open to the inspection of their families1 to whom their real characters are easily and perfectly known2 for they seldom think it worth while to practise any disguise before those1 whose good opinion they do not value1 and who are obliged to submit to their most insupportable humours1 because they are paid for it4 ,,amongst women of breeding1 the exterior of gentleness is so uniformly assumed1 and the whole manner is so perfectly level and uni1 that it is next to impossible for a stranger to know any thing of their true dispositions by conversing with them1 and even the very features are so exactly regulated1 that physiognomy1 which may sometimes be trusted among the vulgar1 is1 with the polite1 a most lying science4 ,a ,,very termagant woman1 if she happens also to be a very artful one1 will be conscious she has so much to conceal1 that the dread of betraying her real temper will make her put on an over-acted softness1 which1 from its very excess1 may be distinguished from the natural1 by a penetrating eye4 ,that gentleness is ever liable to be suspected for the counterfeited1 which is so excessive as to deprive people of the proper use of speech and motion1 or which1 as ,hamlet says1 makes them lisp and amble1 and nick-name ,god's creatures4 ,,the countenance and manners of some very fashionable persons may be compared to the inscriptions on their monuments1 which speak nothing but good of what is within2 but he who knows any thing of the world1 or of the human heart1 will no more trust to the courtesy1 than he will depend on the epitaph4 ,,among the various artifices of factitious meekness1 one of the most frequent and most plausible1 is that of affecting to be always equally delighted with all persons and all characters4 ,the society of these languid beings is without confidence1 their friendship without attachment1 and their love without affection1 or even preference4 ,this insipid mode of conduct may be safe1 but ,i cannot think it has either taste1 sense1 or principle in it4 ,,these uniformly smiling and approving ladies1 who have neither the noble courage to reprehend vice1 nor the generous warmth to bear their honest testimony in the cause of virtue1 conclude every one to be ill-natured who has any penetration1 and look upon a distinguishing judgment as want of tenderness4 ,but they should learn1 that this discernment does not always proceed from an uncharitable temper1 but from that long experience and thorough knowledge of the world1 which lead those who have it to scrutinize into the conduct and disposition of men1 before they trust entirely to those fair appearances1 which sometimes veil the most insidious purposes4 ,,we are perpetually mistaking the qualities and dispositions of our own hearts4 ,we elevate our failings into virtues1 and qualify our vices into weaknesses3 and hence arise so many false judgments respecting meekness4 ,self-ignorance is at the root of all this mischief4 ,many ladies complain that1 for their part1 their spirit is so meek they can bear nothing2 whereas1 if they spoke truth1 they would say1 their spirit is so high and unbroken that they can bear nothing4 ,strange6 to plead their meekness as a reason why they cannot endure to be crossed1 and to produce their impatience of contradiction as a proof of their gentleness6 ,,meekness1 like most other virtues1 has certain limits1 which it no sooner exceeds than it becomes criminal4 ,servility of spirit is not gentleness but weakness1 and if allowed1 under the specious appearances it sometimes puts on1 will lead to the most dangerous compliances4 ,she who hears innocence maligned without vindicating it1 falsehood asserted without contradicting it1 or religion prophaned without resenting it1 is not gentle but wicked4 ,,to give up the cause of an innocent1 injured friend1 if the popular cry happens to be against him1 is the most disgraceful weakness4 ,this was the case of ,madame de ,maintenon4 ,she loved the character and admired the talents of ,racine2 she caressed him while he had no enemies1 but wanted the greatness of mind1 or rather the common justice1 to protect him against their resentment when he had2 and her favourite was abandoned to the suspicious jealousy of the king1 when a prudent remonstrance might have preserved him4--,but her tameness1 if not absolute connivance in the great massacre of the protestants1 in whose church she had been bred1 is a far more guilty instance of her weakness2 an instance which1 in spite of all her devotional zeal and incomparable prudence1 will disqualify her from shining in the annals of good women1 however she may be entitled to figure among the great and the fortunate4 ,compare her conduct with that of her undaunted and pious countryman and contemporary1 ,bougi1 who1 when ,louis would have prevailed on him to renounce his religion for a commission or a government1 nobly replied1 ,if ,i could be persuaded to betray my ,god for a marshal's staff1 ,i might betray my king for a bribe of much less consequence4 ,,meekness is imperfect1 if it be not both active and passive2 if it will not enable us to subdue our own passions and resentments1 as well as qualify us to bear patiently the passions and resentments of others4 ,,before we give way to any violent emotion of anger1 it would perhaps be worth while to consider the value of the object which excites it1 and to reflect for a moment1 whether the thing we so ardently desire1 or so vehemently resent1 be really of as much importance to us1 as that delightful tranquillity of soul1 which we renounce in pursuit of it4 ,if1 on a fair calculation1 we find we are not likely to get as much as we are sure to lose1 then1 putting all religious considerations out of the question1 common sense and human policy will tell us1 we have made a foolish and unprofitable exchange4 ,inward quiet is a part of one's self2 the object of our resentment may be only a matter of opinion2 and1 certainly1 what makes a portion of our actual happiness ought to be too dear to us1 to be sacrificed for a trifling1 foreign1 perhaps imaginary good4 ,,the most pointed satire ,i remember to have read1 on a mind enslaved by anger1 is an observation of ,seneca's4 ,alexander 7said he7 had two friends1 ,clitus and ,lysimachus2 the one he exposed to a lion1 the other to himself3 he who was turned loose to the beast escaped1 but ,clitus was murdered1 for he was turned loose to an angry man4 ,a ,,passionate woman's happiness is never in her own keeping3 it is the sport of accident1 and the slave of events4 ,it is in the power of her acquaintance1 her servants1 but chiefly of her enemies1 and all her comforts lie at the mercy of others4 ,so far from being willing to learn of him who was meek and lowly1 she considers meekness as the want of a becoming spirit1 and lowliness as a despicable and vulgar meanness4 ,and an imperious woman will so little covet the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit1 that it is almost the only ornament she will not be solicitous to wear4 ,but resentment is a very expensive vice4 ,how dearly has it cost its votaries1 even from the sin of ,cain1 the first offender in this kind6 ,it is cheaper 7says a pious writer7 to forgive1 and save the charges4 ,,if it were only for mere human reasons1 it would turn to a better account to be patient2 nothing defeats the malice of an enemy like a spirit of forbearance2 the return of rage for rage cannot be so effectually provoking4 ,true gentleness1 like an impenetrable armour1 repels the most pointed shafts of malice3 they cannot pierce through this invulnerable shield1 but either fall hurtless to the ground1 or return to wound the hand that shot them4 ,a ,,meek spirit will not look out of itself for happiness1 because it finds a constant banquet at home2 yet1 by a sort of divine alchymy1 it will convert all external events to its own profit1 and be able to deduce some good1 even from the most unpromising3 it will extract comfort and satisfaction from the most barren circumstances3 ,it will suck honey out of the rock1 and oil out of the flinty rock4 ,,but the supreme excellence of this complacent quality is1 that it naturally disposes the mind where it resides1 to the practice of every other that is amiable4 ,meekness may be called the pioneer of all the other virtues1 which levels every obstruction1 and smooths every difficulty that might impede their entrance1 or retard their progress4 ,,the peculiar importance and value of this amiable virtue may be farther seen in its permanency4 ,honours and dignities are transient1 beauty and riches frail and fugacious1 to a proverb4 ,would not the truly wise1 therefore1 wish to have some one possession1 which they might call their own in the severest exigencies8 ,but this wish can only be accomplished by acquiring and maintaining that calm and absolute self-possession1 which1 as the world had no hand in giving1 so it cannot1 by the most malicious exertion of its power1 take away4 ,,thoughts ,,on ,,the ,,cultivation ,,of ,,the ,,heart ,,and ,,temper ,,in ,,the ,,education ,,of ,,daughters4 ,i ,,have not the foolish presumption to imagine1 that ,i can offer any thing new on a subject1 which has been so successfully treated by many learned and able writers4 ,i would only1 with all possible deference1 beg leave to hazard a few short remarks on that part of the subject of education1 which ,i would call the education of the heart4 ,i am well aware1 that this part also has not been less skilfully and forcibly discussed than the rest1 though ,i cannot1 at the same time1 help remarking1 that it does not appear to have been so much adopted into common practice4 ,,it appears then1 that notwithstanding the great and real improvements1 which have been made in the affair of female education1 and notwithstanding the more enlarged and generous views of it1 which prevail in the present day1 that there is still a very material defect1 which it is not1 in general1 enough the object of attention to remove4 ,this defect seems to consist in this1 that too little regard is paid to the dispositions of the mind1 that the indications of the temper are not properly cherished1 nor the affections of the heart sufficiently regulated4 ,,in the first education of girls1 as far as the customs which fashion establishes are right1 they should undoubtedly be followed4 ,let the exterior be made a considerable object of attention1 but let it not be the principal1 let it not be the only one4--,let the graces be industriously cultivated1 but let them not be cultivated at the expence of the virtues4--,let the arms1 the head1 the whole person be carefully polished1 but let not the heart be the only portion of the human anatomy1 which shall be totally overlooked4 ,,the neglect of this cultivation seems to proceed as much from a bad taste1 as from a false principle4 ,the generality of people form their judgment of education by slight and sudden appearances1 which is certainly a wrong way of determining4 ,music1 dancing1 and languages1 gratify those who teach them1 by perceptible and almost immediate effects2 and when there happens to be no imbecillity in the pupil1 nor deficiency in the matter1 every superficial observer can1 in some measure1 judge of the progress4--,the effects of most of these accomplishments address themselves to the senses2 and there are more who can see and hear1 than there are who can judge and reflect4 ,,personal perfection is not only more obvious1 it is also more rapid2 and even in very accomplished characters1 elegance usually precedes principle4 ,,but the heart1 that natural seat of evil propensities1 that little troublesome empire of the passions1 is led to what is right by slow motions and imperceptible degrees4 ,it must be admonished by reproof1 and allured by kindness4 ,its liveliest advances are frequently impeded by the obstinacy of prejudice1 and its brightest promises often obscured by the tempests of passion4 ,it is slow in its acquisition of virtue1 and reluctant in its approaches to piety4 ,,there is another reason1 which proves this mental cultivation to be more important1 as well as more difficult1 than any other part of education4 ,in the usual fashionable accomplishments1 the business of acquiring them is almost always getting forwards1 and one difficulty is conquered before another is suffered to shew itself2 for a prudent teacher will level the road his pupil is to pass1 and smooth the inequalities which might retard her progress4 ,,but in morals1 7which should be the great object constantly kept in view7 the talk is far more difficult4 ,the unruly and turbulent desires of the heart are not so obedient2 one passion will start up before another is suppressed4 ,the subduing ,hercules cannot cut off the heads so often as the prolific ,hydra can produce them1 nor fell the stubborn ,antus so fast as he can recruit his strength1 and rise in vigorous and repeated opposition4 ,,if all the accomplishments could be bought at the price of a single virtue1 the purchase would be infinitely dear6 ,and1 however startling it may sound1 ,i think it is1 notwithstanding1 true1 that the labours of a good and wise mother1 who is anxious for her daughter's most important interests1 will seem to be at variance with those of her instructors4 ,she will doubtless rejoice at her progress in any polite art1 but she will rejoice with trembling3--humility and piety form the solid and durable basis1 on which she wishes to raise the superstructure of the accomplishments1 while the accomplishments themselves are frequently of that unsteady nature1 that if the foundation is not secured1 in proportion as the building is enlarged1 it will be overloaded and destroyed by those very ornaments1 which were intended to embellish1 what they have contributed to ruin4 ,,the more ostensible qualifications should be carefully regulated1 or they will be in danger of putting to flight the modest train of retreating virtues1 which cannot safely subsist before the bold eye of public observation1 or bear the bolder tongue of impudent and audacious flattery4 ,a tender mother cannot but feel an honest triumph1 in contemplating those excellencies in her daughter which deserve applause1 but she will also shudder at the vanity which that applause may excite1 and at those hitherto unknown ideas which it may awaken4 ,,the master1 it is his interest1 and perhaps his duty1 will naturally teach a girl to set her improvements in the most conspicuous point of light4 ,,se ,,faire ,,valoir is the great principle industriously inculcated into her young heart1 and seems to be considered as a kind of fundamental maxim in education4 ,it is however the certain and effectual seed1 from which a thousand yet unborn vanities will spring4 ,this dangerous doctrine 7which yet is not without its uses7 will be counteracted by the prudent mother1 not in so many words1 but by a watchful and scarcely perceptible dexterity4 ,such an one will be more careful to have the talents of her daughter cultivated than exhibited4 ,,one would be led to imagine1 by the common mode of female education1 that life consisted of one universal holiday1 and that the only contest was1 who should be best enabled to excel in the sports and games that were to be celebrated on it4 ,merely ornamental accomplishments will but indifferently qualify a woman to perform the duties of life1 though it is highly proper she should possess them1 in order to furnish the amusements of it4 ,but is it right to spend so large a portion of life without some preparation for the business of living8 ,a lady may speak a little ,french and ,italian1 repeat a few passages in a theatrical tone1 play and sing1 have her dressing-room hung with her own drawings1 and her person covered with her own tambour work1 and may1 notwithstanding1 have been very badly educated4 ,yet ,i am far from attempting to depreciate the value of these qualifications3 they are most of them not only highly becoming1 but often indispensably necessary1 and a polite education cannot be perfected without them4 ,but as the world seems to be very well apprised of their importance1 there is the less occasion to insist on their utility4 ,yet1 though well-bred young women should learn to dance1 sing1 recite and draw1 the end of a good education is not that they may become dancers1 singers1 players or painters3 its real object is to make them good daughters1 good wives1 good mistresses1 good members of society1 and good christians4 ,the above qualifications therefore are intended to adorn their leisure1 not to employ their lives2 for an amiable and wise woman will always have something better to value herself on1 than these advantages1 which1 however captivating1 are still but subordinate parts of a truly excellent character4 ,,but ,i am afraid parents themselves sometimes contribute to the error of which ,i am complaining4 ,do they not often set a higher value on those acquisitions which are calculated to attract observation1 and catch the eye of the multitude1 than on those which are valuable1 permanent1 and internal8 ,are they not sometimes more solicitous about the opinion of others1 respecting their children1 than about the real advantage and happiness of the children themselves8 ,to an injudicious and superficial eye1 the best educated girl may make the least brilliant figure1 as she will probably have less flippancy in her manner1 and less repartee in her expression2 and her acquirements1 to borrow bishop ,sprat's idea1 will be rather enamelled than embossed4 ,but her merit will be known1 and acknowledged by all who come near enough to discern1 and have taste enough to distinguish4 ,it will be understood and admired by the man1 whose happiness she is one day to make1 whose family she is to govern1 and whose children she is to educate4 ,he will not seek for her in the haunts of dissipation1 for he knows he shall not find her there2 but he will seek for her in the bosom of retirement1 in the practice of every domestic virtue1 in the exertion of every amiable accomplishment1 exerted in the shade1 to enliven retirement1 to heighten the endearing pleasures of social intercourse1 and to embellish the narrow but charming circle of family delights4 ,to this amiable purpose1 a truly good and well educated young lady will dedicate her more elegant accomplishments1 instead of exhibiting them to attract admiration1 or depress inferiority4 ,,young girls1 who have more vivacity than understanding1 will often make a sprightly figure in conversation4 ,but this agreeable talent for entertaining others1 is frequently dangerous to themselves1 nor is it by any means to be desired or encouraged very early in life4 ,this immaturity of wit is helped on by frivolous reading1 which will produce its effect in much less time than books of solid instruction2 for the imagination is touched sooner than the understanding2 and effects are more rapid as they are more pernicious4 ,conversation should be the result of education1 not the precursor of it4 ,it is a golden fruit1 when suffered to grow gradually on the tree of knowledge2 but if precipitated by forced and unnatural means1 it will in the end become vapid1 in proportion as it is artificial4 ,,the best effects of a careful and religious education are often very remote3 they are to be discovered in future scenes1 and exhibited in untried connexions4 ,every event of life will be putting the heart into fresh situations1 and making demands on its prudence1 its firmness1 its integrity1 or its piety4 ,those whose business it is to form it1 can foresee none of these situations2 yet1 as far as human wisdom will allow1 they must enable it to provide for them all1 with an humble dependence on the divine assistance4 ,a well-disciplined soldier must learn and practise all his evolutions1 though he does not know on what service his leader may command him1 by what foe he shall be attacked1 nor what mode of combat the enemy may use4 ,,one great art of education consists in not suffering the feelings to become too acute by unnecessary awakening1 nor too obtuse by the want of exertion4 ,the former renders them the source of calamity1 and totally ruins the temper2 while the latter blunts and debases them1 and produces a dull1 cold1 and selfish spirit4 ,for the mind is an instrument1 which1 if wound too high1 will lose its sweetness1 and if not enough strained1 will abate of its vigour4 ,,how cruel is it to extinguish by neglect or unkindness1 the precious sensibility of an open temper1 to chill the amiable glow of an ingenuous soul1 and to quench the bright flame of a noble and generous spirit6 ,these are of higher worth than all the documents of learning1 of dearer price than all the advantages1 which can be derived from the most refined and artificial mode of education4 ,,but sensibility and delicacy1 and an ingenuous temper1 make no part of education1 exclaims the pedagogue--they are reducible to no class--they come under no article of instruction--they belong neither to languages nor to music4--,what an error6 ,they are a part of education1 and of infinitely more value1 ,than all their pedant discipline e'er knew4 ,it is true1 they are ranged under no class1 but they are superior to all2 they are of more esteem than languages or music1 for they are the language of the heart1 and the music of the according passions4 ,yet this sensibility is1 in many instances1 so far from being cultivated1 that it is not uncommon to see those who affect more than usual sagacity1 cast a smile of supercilious pity1 at any indication of a warm1 generous1 or enthusiastic temper in the lively and the young2 as much as to say1 they will know better1 and will have more discretion when they are older4 ,but every appearance of amiable simplicity1 or of honest shame1 ,nature's hasty conscience1 will be dear to sensible hearts2 they will carefully cherish every such indication in a young female2 for they will perceive that it is this temper1 wisely cultivated1 which will one day make her enamoured of the loveliness of virtue1 and the beauty of holiness3 from which she will acquire a taste for the doctrines of religion1 and a spirit to perform the duties of it4 ,and those who wish to make her ashamed of this charming temper1 and seek to dispossess her of it1 will1 it is to be feared1 give her nothing better in exchange4 ,but whoever reflects at all1 will easily discern how carefully this enthusiasm is to be directed1 and how judiciously its redundances are to be lopped away4 ,,prudence is not natural to children2 they can1 however1 substitute art in its stead4 ,but is it not much better that a girl should discover the faults incident to her age1 than conceal them under this dark and impenetrable veil8 ,i could almost venture to assert1 that there is something more becoming in the very errors of nature1 where they are undisguised1 than in the affectation of virtue itself1 where the reality is wanting4 ,and ,i am so far from being an admirer of prodigies1 that ,i am extremely apt to suspect them2 and am always infinitely better pleased with ,nature in her more common modes of operation4 ,the precise and premature wisdom1 which some girls have cunning enough to assume1 is of a more dangerous tendency than any of their natural failings can be1 as it effectually covers those secret bad dispositions1 which1 if they displayed themselves1 might be rectified4 ,the hypocrisy of assuming virtues which are not inherent in the heart1 prevents the growth and disclosure of those real ones1 which it is the great end of education to cultivate4 ,,but if the natural indications of the temper are to be suppressed and stifled1 where are the diagnostics1 by which the state of the mind is to be known8 ,the wise ,author of all things1 who did nothing in vain1 doubtless intended them as symptoms1 by which to judge of the diseases of the heart2 and it is impossible diseases should be cured before they are known4 ,if the stream be so cut off as to prevent communication1 or so choked up as to defeat discovery1 how shall we ever reach the source1 out of which are the issues of life8 ,,this cunning1 which1 of all the different dispositions girls discover1 is most to be dreaded1 is increased by nothing so much as by fear4 ,if those about them express violent and unreasonable anger at every trivial offence1 it will always promote this temper1 and will very frequently create it1 where there was a natural tendency to frankness4 ,the indiscreet transports of rage1 which many betray on every slight occasion1 and the little distinction they make between venial errors and premeditated crimes1 naturally dispose a child to conceal1 what she does not however care to suppress4 ,anger in one will not remedy the faults of another2 for how can an instrument of sin cure sin8 ,if a girl is kept in a state of perpetual and slavish terror1 she will perhaps have artifice enough to conceal those propensities which she knows are wrong1 or those actions which she thinks are most obnoxious to punishment4 ,but1 nevertheless1 she will not cease to indulge those propensities1 and to commit those actions1 when she can do it with impunity4 ,,good dispositions1 of themselves1 will go but a very little way1 unless they are confirmed into good principles4 ,and this cannot be effected but by a careful course of religious instruction1 and a patient and laborious cultivation of the moral temper4 ,,but1 notwithstanding girls should not be treated with unkindness1 nor the first openings of the passions blighted by cold severity2 yet ,i am of opinion1 that young females should be accustomed very early in life to a certain degree of restraint4 ,the natural cast of character1 and the moral distinctions between the sexes1 should not be disregarded1 even in childhood4 ,that bold1 independent1 enterprising spirit1 which is so much admired in boys1 should not1 when it happens to discover itself in the other sex1 be encouraged1 but suppressed4 ,girls should be taught to give up their opinions betimes1 and not pertinaciously to carry on a dispute1 even if they should know themselves to be in the right4 ,i do not mean1 that they should be robbed of the liberty of private judgment1 but that they should by no means be encouraged to contract a contentious or contradictory turn4 ,it is of the greatest importance to their future happiness1 that they should acquire a submissive temper1 and a forbearing spirit3 for it is a lesson which the world will not fail to make them frequently practise1 when they come abroad into it1 and they will not practise it the worse for having learnt it the sooner4 ,these early restraints1 in the limitation here meant1 are so far from being an effect of cruelty1 that they are the most indubitable marks of affection1 and are the more meritorious1 as they are severe trials of tenderness4 ,but all the beneficial effects1 which a mother can expect from this watchfulness1 will be entirely defeated1 if it is practised occasionally1 and not habitually1 and if it ever appears to be used to gratify caprice1 ill-humour1 or resentment4 ,,those who have children to educate ought to be extremely patient3 it is indeed a labour of love4 ,they should reflect1 that extraordinary talents are neither essential to the well-being of society1 nor to the happiness of individuals4 ,if that had been the case1 the beneficent ,father of the universe would not have made them so rare4 ,for it is as easy for an ,almighty ,creator to produce a ,newton1 as an ordinary man2 and he could have made those powers common which we now consider as wonderful1 without any miraculous exertion of his omnipotence1 if the existence of many ,newtons had been necessary to the perfection of his wise and gracious plan4 ,,surely1 therefore1 there is more piety1 as well as more sense1 in labouring to improve the talents which children actually have1 than in lamenting that they do not possess supernatural endowments or angelic perfections4 ,a passage of ,lord ,bacon's furnishes an admirable incitement for endeavouring to carry the amiable and christian grace of charity to its farthest extent1 instead of indulging an over-anxious care for more brilliant but less important acquisitions4 ,the desire of power in excess 7says he7 caused the angels to fall2 the desire of knowledge in excess caused man to fall2 but in charity is no excess1 neither can men nor angels come into danger by it4 ,a ,,girl who has docility will seldom be found to want understanding enough for all the purposes of a social1 a happy1 and an useful life4 ,and when we behold the tender hope of fond and anxious love1 blasted by disappointment1 the defect will as often be discovered to proceed from the neglect or the error of cultivation1 as from the natural temper2 and those who lament the evil1 will sometimes be found to have occasioned it4 ,,it is as injudicious for parents to set out with too sanguine a dependence on the merit of their children1 as it is for them to be discouraged at every repulse4 ,when their wishes are defeated in this or that particular instance1 where they had treasured up some darling expectation1 this is so far from being a reason for relaxing their attention1 that it ought to be an additional motive for redoubling it4 ,those who hope to do a great deal1 must not expect to do every thing4 ,if they know any thing of the malignity of sin1 the blindness of prejudice1 or the corruption of the human heart1 they will also know1 that that heart will always remain1 after the very best possible education1 full of infirmity and imperfection4 ,extraordinary allowances1 therefore1 must be made for the weakness of nature in this its weakest state4 ,after much is done1 much will remain to do1 and much1 very much1 will still be left undone4 ,for this regulation of the passions and affections cannot be the work of education alone1 without the concurrence of divine grace operating on the heart4 ,why then should parents repine1 if their efforts are not always crowned with immediate success8 ,they should consider1 that they are not educating cherubims and seraphims1 but men and women2 creatures1 who at their best estate are altogether vanity3 how little then can be expected from them in the weakness and imbecillity of infancy6 ,i have dwelt on this part of the subject the longer1 because ,i am certain that many1 who have set out with a warm and active zeal1 have cooled on the very first discouragement1 and have afterwards almost totally remitted their vigilance1 through a criminal kind of despair4 ,,great allowances must be made for a profusion of gaiety1 loquacity1 and even indiscretion in children1 that there may be animation enough left to supply an active and useful character1 when the first fermentation of the youthful passions is over1 and the redundant spirits shall come to subside4 ,,if it be true1 as a consummate judge of human nature has observed1 ,that not a vanity is given in vain1 it is also true1 that there is scarcely a single passion1 which may not be turned to some good account1 if prudently rectified1 and skilfully turned into the road of some neighbouring virtue4 ,it cannot be violently bent1 or unnaturally forced towards an object of a totally opposite nature1 but may be gradually inclined towards a correspondent but superior affection4 ,anger1 hatred1 resentment1 and ambition1 the most restless and turbulent passions which shake and distract the human soul1 may be led to become the most active opposers of sin1 after having been its most successful instruments4 ,our anger1 for instance1 which can never be totally subdued1 may be made to turn against ourselves1 for our weak and imperfect obedience--our hatred1 against every species of vice--our ambition1 which will not be discarded1 may be ennobled3 it will not change its name1 but its object3 it will despise what it lately valued1 nor be contented to grasp at less than immortality4 ,,thus the joys1 fears1 hopes1 desires1 all the passions and affections1 which separate in various currents from the soul1 will1 if directed into their proper channels1 after having fertilised wherever they have flowed1 return again to swell and enrich the parent source4 ,,that the very passions which appear the most uncontroulable and unpromising1 may be intended1 in the great scheme of ,providence1 to answer some important purpose1 is remarkably evidenced in the character and history of ,saint ,paul4 ,a remark on this subject by an ingenious old ,spanish writer1 which ,i will here take the liberty to translate1 will better illustrate my meaning4 ,,to convert the bitterest enemy into the most zealous advocate1 is the work of ,god for the instruction of man4 ,plutarch has observed1 that the medical science would be brought to the utmost perfection1 when poison should be converted into physic4 ,thus1 in the mortal disease of ,judaism and idolatry1 our blessed ,lord converted the adder's venom of ,saul the persecutor1 into that cement which made ,paul the chosen vessel4 ,that manly activity1 that restless ardor1 that burning zeal for the law of his fathers1 that ardent thirst for the blood of ,christians1 did the ,son of ,god find necessary in the man who was one day to become the defender of his suffering people4#g ,,to win the passions1 therefore1 over to the cause of virtue1 answers a much nobler end than their extinction would possibly do1 even if that could be effected4 ,but it is their nature never to observe a neutrality2 they are either rebels or auxiliaries1 and an enemy subdued is an ally obtained4 ,if ,i may be allowed to change the allusion so soon1 ,i would say1 that the passions also resemble fires1 which are friendly and beneficial when under proper direction1 but if suffered to blaze without restraint1 they carry devastation along with them1 and1 if totally extinguished1 leave the benighted mind in a state of cold and comfortless inanity4 ,,but in speaking of the usefulness of the passions1 as instruments of virtue1 envy and lying must always be excepted3 these1 ,i am persuaded1 must either go on in still progressive mischief1 or else be radically cured1 before any good can be expected from the heart which has been infected with them4 ,for ,i never will believe that envy1 though passed through all the moral strainers1 can be refined into a virtuous emulation1 or lying improved into an agreeable turn for innocent invention4 ,almost all the other passions may be made to take an amiable hue2 but these two must either be totally extirpated1 or be always contented to preserve their original deformity1 and to wear their native black4 #g ,obras de ,quevedo1 vida de ,san ,pablo ,apostol4 ,,on ,,the ,,importance ,,of ,,religion ,,to ,,the ,,female ,,character4 ,,various are the reasons why the greater part of mankind cannot apply themselves to arts or letters4 ,particular studies are only suited to the capacities of particular persons4 ,some are incapable of applying to them from the delicacy of their sex1 some from the unsteadiness of youth1 and others from the imbecillity of age4 ,many are precluded by the narrowness of their education1 and many by the straitness of their fortune4 ,the wisdom of ,god is wonderfully manifested in this happy and well-ordered diversity1 in the powers and properties of his creatures2 since by thus admirably suiting the agent to the action1 the whole scheme of human affairs is carried on with the most agreeing and consistent oeconomy1 and no chasm is left for want of an object to fill it1 exactly suited to its nature4 ,,but in the great and universal concern of religion1 both sexes1 and all ranks1 are equally interested4 ,the truly catholic spirit of christianity accommodates itself1 with an astonishing condescension1 to the circumstances of the whole human race4 ,it rejects none on account of their pecuniary wants1 their personal infirmities1 or their intellectual deficiencies4 ,no superiority of parts is the least recommendation1 nor is any depression of fortune the smallest objection4 ,none are too wise to be excused from performing the duties of religion1 nor are any too poor to be excluded from the consolations of its promises4 ,,if we admire the wisdom of ,god1 in having furnished different degrees of intelligence1 so exactly adapted to their different destinations1 and in having fitted every part of his stupendous work1 not only to serve its own immediate purpose1 but also to contribute to the beauty and perfection of the whole3 how much more ought we to adore that goodness1 which has perfected the divine plan1 by appointing one wide1 comprehensive1 and universal means of salvation3 a salvation1 which all are invited to partake2 by a means which all are capable of using2 which nothing but voluntary blindness can prevent our comprehending1 and nothing but wilful error can hinder us from embracing4 ,,the ,muses are coy1 and will only be wooed and won by some highly-favoured suitors4 ,the ,sciences are lofty1 and will not stoop to the reach of ordinary capacities4 ,but ,wisdom 7by which the royal preacher means piety7 is a loving spirit3 she is easily seen of them that love her1 and found of all such as seek her4 ,nay1 she is so accessible and condescending1 that she preventeth them that desire her1 making herself first known unto them4 ,,we are told by the same animated writer1 that ,wisdom is the breath of the power of ,god4 ,how infinitely superior1 in grandeur and sublimity1 is this description to the origin of the wisdom of the heathens1 as described by their poets and mythologists6 ,in the exalted strains of the ,hebrew poetry we read1 that ,wisdom is the brightness of the everlasting light1 the unspotted mirror of the power of ,god1 and the image of his goodness4 ,,the philosophical author of ,the ,defence of ,learning observes1 that knowledge has something of venom and malignity in it1 when taken without its proper corrective1 and what that is1 the inspired ,saint ,paul teaches us1 by placing it as the immediate antidote3 ,knowledge puffeth up1 but charity edifieth4 ,perhaps1 it is the vanity of human wisdom1 unchastised by this correcting principle1 which has made so many infidels4 ,it may proceed from the arrogance of a self-sufficient pride1 that some philosophers disdain to acknowledge their belief in a being1 who has judged proper to conceal from them the infinite wisdom of his counsels2 who1 7to borrow the lofty language of the man of ,uz7 refused to consult them when he laid the foundations of the earth1 when he shut up the sea with doors1 and made the clouds the garment thereof4 ,a ,,man must be an infidel either from pride1 prejudice1 or bad education3 he cannot be one unawares or by surprise2 for infidelity is not occasioned by sudden impulse or violent temptation4 ,he may be hurried by some vehement desire into an immoral action1 at which he will blush in his cooler moments1 and which he will lament as the sad effect of a spirit unsubdued by religion2 but infidelity is a calm1 considerate act1 which cannot plead the weakness of the heart1 or the seduction of the senses4 ,even good men frequently fail in their duty through the infirmities of nature1 and the allurements of the world2 but the infidel errs on a plan1 on a settled and deliberate principle4 ,,but though the minds of men are sometimes fatally infected with this disease1 either through unhappy prepossession1 or some of the other causes above mentioned2 yet ,i am unwilling to believe1 that there is in nature so monstrously incongruous a being1 as a female infidel4 ,the least reflexion on the temper1 the character1 and the education of women1 makes the mind revolt with horror from an idea so improbable1 and so unnatural4 ,,may ,i be allowed to observe1 that1 in general1 the minds of girls seem more aptly prepared in their early youth for the reception of serious impressions than those of the other sex1 and that their less exposed situations in more advanced life qualify them better for the preservation of them8 ,the daughters 7of good parents ,i mean7 are often more carefully instructed in their religious duties1 than the sons1 and this from a variety of causes4 ,they are not so soon sent from under the paternal eye into the bustle of the world1 and so early exposed to the contagion of bad example3 their hearts are naturally more flexible1 soft1 and liable to any kind of impression the forming hand may stamp on them2 and1 lastly1 as they do not receive the same classical education with boys1 their feeble minds are not obliged at once to receive and separate the precepts of christianity1 and the documents of pagan philosophy4 ,the necessity of doing this perhaps somewhat weakens the serious impressions of young men1 at least till the understanding is formed1 and confuses their ideas of piety1 by mixing them with so much heterogeneous matter4 ,they only casually read1 or hear read1 the scriptures of truth1 while they are obliged to learn by heart1 construe and repeat the poetical fables of the less than human gods of the ancients4 ,and as the excellent author of ,the ,internal ,evidence of the ,christian ,religion observes1 ,nothing has so much contributed to corrupt the true spirit of the christian institution1 as that partiality which we contract1 in our earliest education1 for the manners of pagan antiquity4 ,,girls1 therefore1 who do not contract this early partiality1 ought to have a clearer notion of their religious duties3 they are not obliged1 at an age when the judgment is so weak1 to distinguish between the doctrines of ,zeno1 of ,epicurus1 and of ,christ2 and to embarrass their minds with the various morals which were taught in the ,porch1 in the ,academy1 and on the ,mount4 ,,it is presumed1 that these remarks cannot possibly be so misunderstood1 as to be construed into the least disrespect to literature1 or a want of the highest reverence for a learned education1 the basis of all elegant knowledge3 they are only intended1 with all proper deference1 to point out to young women1 that however inferior their advantages of acquiring a knowledge of the belles-lettres are to those of the other sex2 yet it depends on themselves not to be surpassed in this most important of all studies1 for which their abilities are equal1 and their opportunities1 perhaps1 greater4 ,,but the mere exemption from infidelity is so small a part of the religious character1 that ,i hope no one will attempt to claim any merit from this negative sort of goodness1 or value herself merely for not being the very worst thing she possibly can be4 ,let no mistaken girl fancy she gives a proof of her wit by her want of piety1 or that a contempt of things serious and sacred will exalt her understanding1 or raise her character even in the opinion of the most avowed male infidels4 ,for one may venture to affirm1 that with all their profligate ideas1 both of women and of religion1 neither ,bolingbroke1 ,wharton1 ,buckingham1 nor even ,lord ,chesterfield himself1 would have esteemed a woman the more for her being irreligious4 ,,with whatever ridicule a polite freethinker may affect to treat religion himself1 he will think it necessary his wife should entertain different notions of it4 ,he may pretend to despise it as a matter of opinion1 depending on creeds and systems2 but1 if he is a man of sense1 he will know the value of it1 as a governing principle1 which is to influence her conduct and direct her actions4 ,if he sees her unaffectedly sincere in the practice of her religious duties1 it will be a secret pledge to him1 that she will be equally exact in fulfilling the conjugal2 for he can have no reasonable dependance on her attachment to him1 if he has no opinion of her fidelity to ,,god2 for she who neglects first duties1 gives but an indifferent proof of her disposition to fill up inferior ones2 and how can a man of any understanding 7whatever his own religious professions may be7 trust that woman with the care of his family1 and the education of his children1 who wants herself the best incentive to a virtuous life1 the belief that she is an accountable creature1 and the reflection that she has an immortal soul8 ,,cicero spoke it as the highest commendation of ,cato's character1 that he embraced philosophy1 not for the sake of disputing like a philosopher1 but of living like one4 ,the chief purpose of christian knowledge is to promote the great end of a christian life4 ,every rational woman should1 no doubt1 be able to give a reason of the hope that is in her2 but this knowledge is best acquired1 and the duties consequent on it best performed1 by reading books of plain piety and practical devotion1 and not by entering into the endless feuds1 and engaging in the unprofitable contentions of partial controversialists4 ,nothing is more unamiable than the narrow spirit of party zeal1 nor more disgusting than to hear a woman deal out judgments1 and denounce vengeance against any one1 who happens to differ from her in some opinion1 perhaps of no real importance1 and which1 it is probable1 she may be just as wrong in rejecting1 as the object of her censure is in embracing4 ,a furious and unmerciful female bigot wanders as far beyond the limits prescribed to her sex1 as a ,thalestris or a ,joan d',arc4 ,violent debate has made as few converts as the sword1 and both these instruments are particularly unbecoming when wielded by a female hand4 ,,but1 though no one will be frightened out of their opinions1 yet they may be persuaded out of them3 they may be touched by the affecting earnestness of serious conversation1 and allured by the attractive beauty of a consistently serious life4 ,and while a young woman ought to dread the name of a wrangling polemic1 it is her duty to aspire after the honourable character of a sincere ,christian4 ,but this dignified character she can by no means deserve1 if she is ever afraid to avow her principles1 or ashamed to defend them4 ,a profligate1 who makes it a point to ridicule every thing which comes under the appearance of formal instruction1 will be disconcerted at the spirited yet modest rebuke of a pious young woman4 ,but there is as much efficacy in the manner of reproving prophaneness1 as in the words4 ,if she corrects it with moroseness1 she defeats the effect of her remedy1 by her unskilful manner of administring it4 ,if1 on the other hand1 she affects to defend the insulted cause of ,god1 in a faint tone of voice1 and studied ambiguity of phrase1 or with an air of levity1 and a certain expression of pleasure in her eyes1 which proves she is secretly delighted with what she pretends to censure1 she injures religion much more than he did who publickly prophaned it2 for she plainly indicates1 either that she does not believe1 or respect what she professes4 ,the other attacked it as an open foe2 she betrays it as a false friend4 ,no one pays any regard to the opinion of an avowed enemy2 but the desertion or treachery of a professed friend1 is dangerous indeed6 ,,it is a strange notion which prevails in the world1 that religion only belongs to the old and the melancholy1 and that it is not worth while to pay the least attention to it1 while we are capable of attending to any thing else4 ,they allow it to be proper enough for the clergy1 whose business it is1 and for the aged1 who have not spirits for any business at all4 ,but till they can prove1 that none except the clergy and the aged die1 it must be confessed1 that this is most wretched reasoning4 ,,great injury is done to the interests of religion1 by placing it in a gloomy and unamiable light4 ,it is sometimes spoken of1 as if it would actually make a handsome woman ugly1 or a young one wrinkled4 ,but can any thing be more absurd than to represent the beauty of holiness as the source of deformity8 ,,there are few1 perhaps1 so entirely plunged in business1 or absorbed in pleasure1 as not to intend1 at some future time1 to set about a religious life in good earnest4 ,but then they consider it as a kind of dernier ressort1 and think it prudent to defer flying to this disagreeable refuge1 till they have no relish left for any thing else4 ,do they forget1 that to perform this great business well requires all the strength of their youth1 and all the vigour of their unimpaired capacities8 ,to confirm this assertion1 they may observe how much the slightest indisposition1 even in the most active season of life1 disorders every faculty1 and disqualifies them for attending to the most ordinary affairs3 and then let them reflect how little able they will be to transact the most important of all business1 in the moment of excruciating pain1 or in the day of universal debility4 ,,when the senses are palled with excessive gratification2 when the eye is tired with seeing1 and the ear with hearing2 when the spirits are so sunk1 that the grasshopper is become a burthen1 how shall the blunted apprehension be capable of understanding a new science1 or the worn-out heart be able to relish a new pleasure8 ,,to put off religion till we have lost all taste for amusement2 to refuse listening to the voice of the charmer1 till our enfeebled organs can no longer listen to the voice of singing men and singing women1 and not to devote our days to heaven till we have no pleasure in them ourselves1 is but an ungracious offering4 ,and it is a wretched sacrifice to the ,god of heaven1 to present him with the remnants of decayed appetites1 and the leavings of extinguished passions4 ,,miscellaneous ,,observations ,,on ,,genius1 ,,taste1 ,,good ,,sense1 c4#h ,,good sense is as different from genius as perception is from invention2 yet1 though distinct qualities1 they frequently subsist together4 ,it is altogether opposite to wit1 but by no means inconsistent with it4 ,it is not science1 for there is such a thing as unlettered good sense2 yet1 though it is neither wit1 learning1 nor genius1 it is a substitute for each1 where they do not exist1 and the perfection of all where they do4 ,good sense is so far from deserving the appellation of common sense1 by which it is frequently called1 that it is perhaps one of the rarest qualities of the human mind4 ,if1 indeed1 this name is given it in respect to its peculiar suitableness to the purposes of common life1 there is great propriety in it4 ,good sense appears to differ from taste in this1 that taste is an instantaneous decision of the mind1 a sudden relish of what is beautiful1 or disgust at what is defective1 in an object1 without waiting for the slower confirmation of the judgment4 ,good sense is perhaps that confirmation1 which establishes a suddenly conceived idea1 or feeling1 by the powers of comparing and reflecting4 ,they differ also in this1 that taste seems to have a more immediate reference to arts1 to literature1 and to almost every object of the senses2 while good sense rises to moral excellence1 and exerts its influence on life and manners4 ,taste is fitted to the perception and enjoyment of whatever is beautiful in art or nature3 ,good sense1 to the improvement of the conduct1 and the regulation of the heart4 ,,yet the term good sense1 is used indiscriminately to express either a finished taste for letters1 or an invariable prudence in the affairs of life4 ,it is sometimes applied to the most moderate abilities1 in which case1 the expression is certainly too strong2 and at others to the most shining1 when it is as much too weak and inadequate4 ,a sensible man is the usual1 but unappropriated phrase1 for every degree in the scale of understanding1 from the sober mortal1 who obtains it by his decent demeanor and solid dullness1 to him whose talents qualify him to rank with a ,bacon1 a ,harris1 or a ,johnson4 ,,genius is the power of invention and imitation4 ,it is an incommunicable faculty3 no art or skill of the possessor can bestow the smallest portion of it on another3 no pains or labour can reach the summit of perfection1 where the seeds of it are wanting in the mind2 yet it is capable of infinite improvement where it actually exists1 and is attended with the highest capacity of communicating instruction1 as well as delight to others4 ,,it is the peculiar property of genius to strike out great or beautiful things3 it is the felicity of good sense not to do absurd ones4 ,genius breaks out in splendid sentiments and elevated ideas2 good sense confines its more circumscribed1 but perhaps more useful walk1 within the limits of prudence and propriety4 ,the poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling1 ,doth glance from heaven to earth1 from earth to heaven2 ,and1 as imagination bodies forth ,the forms of things unknown1 the poet's pen ,turns them to shape1 and gives to airy nothing ,a local habitation and a name4 ,,this is perhaps the finest picture of human genius that ever was drawn by a human pencil4 ,it presents a living image of a creative imagination1 or a power of inventing things which have no actual existence4 ,,with superficial judges1 who1 it must be confessed1 make up the greater part of the mass of mankind1 talents are only liked or understood to a certain degree4 ,lofty ideas are above the reach of ordinary apprehensions3 the vulgar allow those who possess them to be in a somewhat higher state of mind than themselves2 but of the vast gulf which separates them1 they have not the least conception4 ,they acknowledge a superiority1 but of its extent they neither know the value1 nor can conceive the reality4 ,it is true1 the mind1 as well as the eye1 can take in objects larger than itself2 but this is only true of great minds3 for a man of low capacity1 who considers a consummate genius1 resembles one1 who seeing a column for the first time1 and standing at too great a distance to take in the whole of it1 concludes it to be flat4 ,or1 like one unacquainted with the first principles of philosophy1 who1 finding the sensible horizon appear a plain surface1 can form no idea of the spherical form of the whole1 which he does not see1 and laughs at the account of antipodes1 which he cannot comprehend4 ,,whatever is excellent is also rare2 what is useful is more common4 ,how many thousands are born qualified for the coarse employments of life1 for one who is capable of excelling in the fine arts6 yet so it ought to be1 because our natural wants are more numerous1 and more importunate1 than the intellectual4 ,,whenever it happens that a man of distinguished talents has been drawn by mistake1 or precipitated by passion1 into any dangerous indiscretion2 it is common for those whose coldness of temper has supplied the place1 and usurped the name of prudence1 to boast of their own steadier virtue1 and triumph in their own superior caution2 only because they have never been assailed by a temptation strong enough to surprise them into error4 ,and with what a visible appropriation of the character to themselves1 do they constantly conclude1 with a cordial compliment to common sense6 ,they point out the beauty and usefulness of this quality so forcibly and explicitly1 that you cannot possibly mistake whose picture they are drawing with so flattering a pencil4 ,the unhappy man whose conduct has been so feelingly arraigned1 perhaps acted from good1 though mistaken motives2 at least1 from motives of which his censurer has not capacity to judge3 but the event was unfavourable1 nay the action might be really wrong1 and the vulgar maliciously take the opportunity of this single indiscretion1 to lift themselves nearer on a level with a character1 which1 except in this instance1 has always thrown them at the most disgraceful and mortifying distance4 ,,the elegant ,biographer of ,collins1 in his affecting apology for that unfortunate genius1 remarks1 ,that the gifts of imagination bring the heaviest task on the vigilance of reason2 and to bear those faculties with unerring rectitude1 or invariable propriety1 requires a degree of firmness1 and of cool attention1 which does not always attend the higher gifts of the mind2 yet difficult as ,nature herself seems to have rendered the task of regularity to genius1 it is the supreme consolation of dullness1 and of folly to point with gothic triumph to those excesses which are the overflowing of faculties they never enjoyed4 ,,what the greater part of the world mean by common sense1 will be generally found1 on a closer enquiry1 to be art1 fraud1 or selfishness6 ,that sort of saving prudence which makes men extremely attentive to their own safety1 or profit2 diligent in the pursuit of their own pleasures or interests2 and perfectly at their ease as to what becomes of the rest of mankind4 ,furies1 where their own property is concerned1 philosophers when nothing but the good of others is at stake1 and perfectly resigned under all calamities but their own4 ,,when we see so many accomplished wits of the present age1 as remarkable for the decorum of their lives1 as for the brilliancy of their writings1 we may believe1 that1 next to principle1 it is owing to their good sense1 which regulates and chastises their imaginations4 ,the vast conceptions which enable a true genius to ascend the sublimest heights1 may be so connected with the stronger passions1 as to give it a natural tendency to fly off from the strait line of regularity2 till good sense1 acting on the fancy1 makes it gravitate powerfully towards that virtue which is its proper centre4 ,,add to this1 when it is considered with what imperfection the ,divine ,wisdom has thought fit to stamp every thing human1 it will be found1 that excellence and infirmity are so inseparably wound up in each other1 that a man derives the soreness of temper1 and irritability of nerve1 which make him uneasy to others1 and unhappy in himself1 from those exquisite feelings1 and that elevated pitch of thought1 by which1 as the apostle expresses it on a more serious occasion1 he is1 as it were1 out of the body4 ,it is not astonishing1 therefore1 when ,,the spirit is carried away by the magnificence of its own ideas1 ,not touch'd but rapt1 not waken'd but inspir'd1 that the frail body1 which is the natural victim of pain1 disease1 and death1 should not always be able to follow the mind in its aspiring flights1 but should be as imperfect as if it belonged only to an ordinary soul4 ,,besides1 might not ,providence intend to humble human pride1 by presenting to our eyes so mortifying a view of the weakness and infirmity of even his best work8 ,perhaps man1 who is already but a little lower than the angels1 might1 like the revolted spirits1 totally have shaken off obedience and submission to his ,creator1 had not ,god wisely tempered human excellence with a certain consciousness of its own imperfection4 ,but though this inevitable alloy of weakness may frequently be found in the best characters1 yet how can that be the source of triumph and exaltation to any1 which1 if properly weighed1 must be the deepest motive of humiliation to all8 ,a good-natured man will be so far from rejoicing1 that he will be secretly troubled1 whenever he reads that the greatest ,roman moralist was tainted with avarice1 and the greatest ,british philosopher with venality4 ,,it is remarked by ,pope1 in his ,essay on ,criticism1 that1 ,ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss4 ,but ,i apprehend it does not therefore follow that to judge1 is more difficult than to write4 ,if this were the case1 the critic would be superior to the poet1 whereas it appears to be directly the contrary4 ,the critic1 7says the great champion of ,shakespeare17 but fashions the body of a work1 the poet must add the soul1 which gives force and direction to its actions and gestures4 ,it should seem that the reason why so many more judge wrong1 than write ill1 is because the number of readers is beyond all proportion greater than the number of writers4 ,every man who reads1 is in some measure a critic1 and1 with very common abilities1 may point out real faults and material errors in a very well written book2 but it by no means follows that he is able to write any thing comparable to the work which he is capable of censuring4 ,and unless the numbers of those who write1 and of those who judge1 were more equal1 the calculation seems not to be quite fair4 ,a ,,capacity for relishing works of genius is the indubitable sign of a good taste4 ,but if a proper disposition and ability to enjoy the compositions of others1 entitle a man to the claim of reputation1 it is still a far inferior degree of merit to his who can invent and produce those compositions1 the bare disquisition of which gives the critic no small share of fame4 ,,the president of the royal academy in his admirable ,discourse on imitation1 has set the folly of depending on unassisted genius1 in the clearest light2 and has shewn the necessity of adding the knowledge of others1 to our own native powers1 in his usual striking and masterly manner4 ,the mind1 says he1 is a barren soil1 is a soil soon exhausted1 and will produce no crop1 or only one1 unless it be continually fertilized1 and enriched with foreign matter4 ,,yet it has been objected that study is a great enemy to originality2 but even if this were true1 it would perhaps be as well that an author should give us the ideas of still better writers1 mixed and assimilated with the matter in his own mind1 as those crude and undigested thoughts which he values under the notion that they are original4 ,the sweetest honey neither tastes of the rose1 the honeysuckle1 nor the carnation1 yet it is compounded of the very essence of them all4 ,,if in the other fine arts this accumulation of knowledge is necessary1 it is indispensably so in poetry4 ,it is a fatal rashness for any one to trust too much to their own stock of ideas4 ,he must invigorate them by exercise1 polish them by conversation1 and increase them by every species of elegant and virtuous knowledge1 and the mind will not fail to reproduce with interest those seeds1 which are sown in it by study and observation4 ,above all1 let every one guard against the dangerous opinion that he knows enough3 an opinion that will weaken the energy and reduce the powers of the mind1 which1 though once perhaps vigorous and effectual1 will be sunk to a state of literary imbecility1 by cherishing vain and presumptuous ideas of its own independence4 ,,for instance1 it may not be necessary that a poet should be deeply skilled in the ,linnan system2 but it must be allowed that a general acquaintance with plants and flowers will furnish him with a delightful and profitable species of instruction4 ,he is not obliged to trace ,nature in all her nice and varied operations1 with the minute accuracy of a ,boyle1 or the laborious investigation of a ,newton2 but his good sense will point out to him that no inconsiderable portion of philosophical knowledge is requisite to the completion of his literary character4 ,the sciences are more independent1 and require little or no assistance from the graces of poetry2 but poetry1 if she would charm and instruct1 must not be so haughty2 she must be contented to borrow of the sciences1 many of her choicest allusions1 and many of her most graceful embellishments2 and does it not magnify the character of true poesy1 that she includes within herself all the scattered graces of every separate art8 ,,the rules of the great masters in criticism may not be so necessary to the forming a good taste1 as the examination of those original mines from whence they drew their treasures of knowledge4 ,,the three celebrated ,essays on the ,art of ,poetry do not teach so much by their laws as by their examples2 the dead letter of their rules is less instructive than the living spirit of their verse4 ,yet these rules are to a young poet1 what the study of logarithms is to a young mathematician2 they do not so much contribute to form his judgment1 as afford him the satisfaction of convincing him that he is right4 ,they do not preclude the difficulty of the operation2 but at the conclusion of it1 furnish him with a fuller demonstration that he has proceeded on proper principles4 ,when he has well studied the masters in whose schools the first critics formed themselves1 and fancies he has caught a spark of their divine ,flame1 it may be a good method to try his own compositions by the test of the critic rules1 so far indeed as the mechanism of poetry goes4 ,if the examination be fair and candid1 this trial1 like the touch of ,ithuriel's spear1 will detect every latent error1 and bring to light every favourite failing4 ,,good taste always suits the measure of its admiration to the merit of the composition it examines4 ,it accommodates its praises1 or its censure1 to the excellence of a work1 and appropriates it to the nature of it4 ,general applause1 or indiscriminate abuse1 is the sign of a vulgar understanding4 ,there are certain blemishes which the judicious and good-natured reader will candidly overlook4 ,but the false sublime1 the tumour which is intended for greatness1 the distorted figure1 the puerile conceit1 and the incongruous metaphor1 these are defects for which scarcely any other kind of merit can atone4 ,and yet there may be more hope of a writer 7especially if he be a a young one71 who is now and then guilty of some of these faults1 than of one who avoids them all1 not through judgment1 but feebleness1 and who1 instead of deviating into error is continually falling short of excellence4 ,the meer absence of error implies that moderate and inferior degree of merit with which a cold heart and a phlegmatic taste will be better satisfied than with the magnificent irregularities of exalted spirits4 ,it stretches some minds to an uneasy extension to be obliged to attend to compositions superlatively excellent2 and it contracts liberal souls to a painful narrowness to descend to books of inferior merit4 ,a work of capital genius1 to a man of an ordinary mind1 is the bed of ,procrustes to one of a short stature1 the man is too little to fill up the space assigned him1 and undergoes the torture in attempting it3 and a moderate1 or low production to a man of bright talents1 is the punishment inflicted by ,mezentius2 the living spirit has too much animation to endure patiently to be in contact with a dead body4 ,,taste sesms to be a sentiment of the soul which gives the bias to opinion1 for we feel before we reflect4 ,without this sentiment1 all knowledge1 learning and opinion1 would be cold1 inert materials1 whereas they become active principles when stirred1 kindled1 and inflamed by this animating quality4 ,,there is another feeling which is called ,enthusiasm4 ,the enthusiasm of sensible hearts is so strong1 that it not only yields to the impulse with which striking objects act on it1 but such hearts help on the effect by their own sensibility4 ,in a scene where ,shakespeare and ,garrick give perfection to each other1 the feeling heart does not merely accede to the delirium they occasion3 it does more1 it is enamoured of it1 it solicits the delusion1 it sues to be deceived1 and grudgingly cherishes the sacred treasure of its feelings4 ,the poet and performer concur in carrying us ,beyond this visible diurnal sphere1 they bear us aloft in their airy course with unresisted rapidity1 if they meet not with any obstruction from the coldness of our own feelings4 ,perhaps1 only a few fine spirits can enter into the detail of their writing and acting2 but the multitude do not enjoy less acutely1 because they are not able philosophically to analyse the sources of their joy or sorrow4 ,if the others have the advantage of judging1 these have at least the privilege of feeling3 and it is not from complaisance to a few leading judges1 that they burst into peals of laughter1 or melt into delightful agony2 their hearts decide1 and that is a decision from which there lies no appeal4 ,it must however be confessed1 that the nicer separations of character1 and the lighter and almost imperceptible shades which sometimes distinguish them1 will not be intimately relished1 unless there be a consonancy of taste as well as feeling in the spectator2 though where the passions are principally concerned1 the profane vulgar come in for a larger portion of the universal delight1 than critics and connoisseurs are willing to allow them4 ,,yet enthusiasm1 though the natural concomitant of genius1 is no more genius itself1 than drunkenness is cheerfulness2 and that enthusiasm which discovers itself on occasions not worthy to excite it1 is the mark of a wretched judgment and a false taste4 ,,nature produces innumerable objects3 to imitate them1 is the province of ,genius2 to direct those imitations1 is the property of ,judgment2 to decide on their effects1 is the business of ,taste4 ,for ,taste1 who sits as supreme judge on the productions of ,genius1 is not satisfied when she merely imitates ,nature3 she must also1 says an ingenious ,french writer1 imitate beautiful ,nature4 ,it requires no less judgment to reject than to choose1 and ,genius might imitate what is vulgar1 under pretence that it was natural1 if ,taste did not carefully point out those objects which are most proper for imitation4 ,it also requires a very nice discernment to distinguish verisimilitude from truth2 for there is a truth in ,taste nearly as conclusive as demonstration in mathematics4 ,,genius1 when in the full impetuosity of its career1 often touches on the very brink of error2 and is1 perhaps1 never so near the verge of the precipice1 as when indulging its sublimest flights4 ,it is in those great1 but dangerous moments1 that the curb of vigilant judgment is most wanting3 while safe and sober ,dulness observes one tedious and insipid round of tiresome uniformity1 and steers equally clear of eccentricity and of beauty4 ,dulness has few redundancies to retrench1 few luxuriancies to prune1 and few irregularities to smooth4 ,these1 though errors1 are the errors of ,genius1 for there is rarely redundancy without plenitude1 or irregularity without greatness4 ,the excesses of ,genius may easily be retrenched1 but the deficiencies of ,dulness can never be supplied4 ,,those who copy from others will doubtless be less excellent than those who copy from ,nature4 ,to imitate imitators1 is the way to depart too far from the great original herself4 ,the latter copies of an engraving retain fainter and fainter traces of the subject1 to which the earlier impressions bore so strong a resemblance4 ,,it seems very extraordinary1 that it should be the most difficult thing in the world to be natural1 and that it should be harder to hit off the manners of real life1 and to delineate such characters as we converse with every day1 than to imagine such as do not exist4 ,but caricature is much easier than an exact outline1 and the colouring of fancy less difficult than that of truth4 ,,people do not always know what taste they have1 till it is awakened by some corresponding object2 nay1 genius itself is a fire1 which in many minds would never blaze1 if not kindled by some external cause4 ,,nature1 that munificent mother1 when she bestows the power of judging1 accompanies it with the capacity of enjoying4 ,the judgment1 which is clear sighted1 points out such objects as are calculated to inspire love1 and the heart instantaneously attaches itself to whatever is lovely4 ,,in regard to literary reputation1 a great deal depends on the state of learning in the particular age or nation1 in which an author lives4 ,in a dark and ignorant period1 moderate knowledge will entitle its possessor to a considerable share of fame2 whereas1 to be distinguished in a polite and lettered age1 requires striking parts and deep erudition4 ,,when a nation begins to emerge from a state of mental darkness1 and to strike out the first rudiments of improvement1 it chalks out a few strong but incorrect sketches1 gives the rude out-lines of general art1 and leaves the filling up to the leisure of happier days1 and the refinement of more enlightened times4 ,their drawing is a rude ,sbozzo1 and their poetry wild minstrelsy4 ,,perfection of taste is a point which a nation no sooner reaches1 than it overshoots2 and it is more difficult to return to it1 after having passed it1 than it was to attain when they fell short of it4 ,where the arts begin to languish after having flourished1 they seldom indeed fall back to their original barbarism1 but a certain feebleness of exertion takes place1 and it is more difficult to recover them from this dying languor to their proper strength1 than it was to polish them from their former rudeness2 for it is a less formidable undertaking to refine barbarity1 than to stop decay3 the first may be laboured into elegance1 but the latter will rarely be strengthened into vigour4 ,,taste exerts itself at first but feebly and imperfectly3 it is repressed and kept back by a crowd of the most discouraging prejudices3 like an infant prince1 who1 though born to reign1 yet holds an idle sceptre1 which he has not power to use1 but is obliged to see with the eyes1 and hear through the ears of other men4 ,a ,,writer of correct taste will hardly ever go out of his way1 even in search of embellishment3 he will study to attain the best end by the most natural means2 for he knows that what is not natural cannot be beautiful1 and that nothing can be beautiful out of its own place2 for an improper situation will convert the most striking beauty into a glaring defect4 ,when by a well-connected chain of ideas1 or a judicious succession of events1 the reader is snatched to ,thebes or ,athens1 what can be more impertinent than for the poet to obstruct the operation of the passion he has just been kindling1 by introducing a conceit which contradicts his purpose1 and interrupts his business8 ,indeed1 we cannot be transported1 even in idea1 to those places1 if the poet does not manage so adroitly as not to make us sensible of the journey3 the instant we feel we are travelling1 the writer's art fails1 and the delirium is at an end4 ,,proserpine1 says ,ovid1 would have been restored to her mother ,ceres1 had not ,ascalaphus seen her stop to gather a golden apple1 when the terms of her restoration were1 that she should taste nothing4 ,a story pregnant with instruction for lively writers1 who by neglecting the main business1 and going out of the way for false gratifications1 lose sight of the end they should principally keep in view4 ,it was this false taste that introduced the numberless concetti1 which disgrace the brightest of the ,italian poets2 and this is the reason1 why the reader only feels short and interrupted snatches of delight in perusing the brilliant but unequal compositions of ,ariosto1 instead of that unbroken and undiminished pleasure1 which he constantly receives from ,virgil1 from ,milton1 and generally from ,tasso4 ,the first-mentioned ,italian is the ,atalanta1 who will interrupt the most eager career1 to pick up the glittering mischief1 while the ,mantuan and the ,british bards1 like ,hippomenes1 press on warm in the pursuit1 and unseduced by temptation4 ,a ,,writer of real taste will take great pains in the perfection of his style1 to make the reader believe that he took none at all4 ,the writing which appears to be most easy1 will be generally found to be least imitable4 ,the most elegant verses are the most easily retained1 they fasten themselves on the memory1 without its making any effort to preserve them1 and we are apt to imagine1 that what is remembered with ease1 was written without difficulty4 ,to conclude2 ,genius is a rare and precious gem1 of which few know the worth2 it is fitter for the cabinet of the connoisseur1 than for the commerce of mankind4 ,good sense is a bank-bill1 convenient for change1 negotiable at all times1 and current in all places4 ,it knows the value of small things1 and considers that an aggregate of them makes up the sum of human affairs4 ,it elevates common concerns into matters of importance1 by performing them in the best manner1 and at the most suitable season4 ,good sense carries with it the idea of equality1 while ,genius is always suspected of a design to impose the burden of superiority2 and respect is paid to it with that reluctance which always attends other imposts1 the lower orders of mankind generally repining most at demands1 by which they are least liable to be affected4 ,,as it is the character of ,genius to penetrate with a lynx's beam into unfathomable abysses and uncreated worlds1 and to see what is not1 so it is the property of good sense to distinguish perfectly1 and judge accurately what really is4 ,good sense has not so piercing an eye1 but it has as clear a sight3 it does not penetrate so deeply1 but as far as it does see1 it discerns distinctly4 ,good sense is a judicious mechanic1 who can produce beauty and convenience out of suitable means2 but ,genius 7,i speak with reverence of the immeasurable distance7 bears some remote resemblance to the divine architect1 who produced perfection of beauty without any visible materials1 who spake1 and it was created2 who said1 ,let it be1 and it was4 #h ,,the ,author begs leave to offer an apology for introducing this ,essay1 which1 she fears1 may be thought foreign to her purpose4 ,but she hopes that her earnest desire of exciting a taste for literature in young ladies1 7which encouraged her to hazard the following remarks7 will not ,,obstruct her general design1 even if it does not actually ,,promote it4 ,,the ,,end4 ,transcriber's ,note3 ,two small typos have been corrected4 ,lately published by the same ,author1 ,,ode ,,to ,,dragon1 ,mr4 ,,garrick',s ,house-,dog at ,hampton4 ,price #f;d4 ,,sir ,,eldred ,,of ,,the ,,bower1 and the ,,bleeding ,,rock4 ,legendary ,tales4 ,price #bs4 #f;d4 ,printed for ,t4 ,cadell in the ,strand4 ,the ,sixth ,edition of ,the ,,search after ,,happiness4 ,a ,pastoral ,drama4 ,price #as4 #f;d4 ,the ,third ,edition of ,the ,,inflexible ,,captive4 ,a ,tragedy4 ,price #as4 #f;d4 ,printed for ,t4 ,cadell1 in the ,strand2 and ,j4 ,wilkie1 in ,st4 ,paul's ,church-,yard4