An essay in defence of the female sex in which are inserted the characters of a pedant, a squire, a beau, a vertuoso, a poetaster, a city-critick, &c. : in a letter to a lady / written by a lady.

AN ESSAY In Defence of the Female Sex, &c.

THE Conversation we had 'tother day, makes me, Dear Madam, but more sensible of the unreasonableness of your desire; which obliges me to inform you further upon a Subject, wherein I have more need of your instruction. The strength of Judg∣ment, sprightly Fancy, and admira∣ble Address, you shew'd upon that Occasion, speak you so perfect a Mistress of that Argument (as I doubt not but you are of any other that you please to engage in) that whoever, would speak or write well on it, ought first to be your

Schollar. Yet to let you see how absolutely you may command me, I had rather be your Eccho, than be silent when You bid me speak, and beg your excuse rather for my Failures, than want of Complacence. I know You will not accuse me for a Plagiary if I return You nothing, but what I have glean'd from You, when You consider, that I pretend not to make a Present, but to pay the Interest only of a Debt. Nor can You tax me with Vanity, since no Importunity of a Person less lov'd, or valu'd by me than your self could have extorted thus much from me. This Consideration leaves me no room to doubt but that you will with your usual Candour par∣don those Defects, and correct those Errors, which proceed only from an over forward Zeal to oblige You, though to my own Disad∣vantage.

The defence of our Sex against so many and so great Wits as have so strongly at ack'd it, may justly seem a Task too difficult for a Wo∣man

man to attempt. Not that I can, or ought to yield, that we are by Nature less enabled for such an En∣terpize, than Men are; which I hope at least to shew plausible Rea∣sons for, before I have done: But because through the Usurpation of Men, and the Tyranny of Custom (here in England especially) there are at most but few, who are by Education, and acquir'd Wit, or Letters sufficiently quallified for such an Undertaking. For my own part I shall readily own, that as few as there are, there may be and are abundance, who in their daily Conversations approve them∣selves much more able, and suffici∣ent Assertors of our Cause, than my self; and I am sorry that ei∣ther their Business, their other Di∣versions, or too great Indulgence of their Ease, hinder them from doing publick Justice to their Sex. The Men by Interest or Inclination are so generally engag'd against us, that it is not to be expected, that any one Man of Wit should arise so generous as to engage in our Quar∣rel,

and be the Champion of our Sex against the Injuries and Op∣pressions of his own. Those Ro∣mantick days are over, and there is not so much as a Don Quixot of the Quill left to succour the distres∣sed Damsels. 'Tis true, a Feint of something of this Nature was made three or four Years since by one; but how much soever his En∣genia may be oblig'd to him, I am of Opinion the rest of her Sex are but little beholding to him. For as you rightly observ'd, Madam, he has taken more care to give an Edge to his Satyr, than force to his Apology; he has play'd a sham Prize, and receives more thrusts than he makes; and like a false Re∣negade fights under our Colours only for a fairer Opportunity of be∣traying us. But what could be ex∣pected else from a Beau? An Anni∣mal that can no more commend in earnest a Womans Wit, than a Man's Person, and that compli∣ments ours, only to shew his own good Breeding and Parts. He le∣vels his Scandal at the whole Sex,

and thinks us sufficiently fortified, if out of the Story of Two Thou∣sand Years he has been able to pick up a few Examples of Women illustrious for their Wit, Learning or Vertue, and Men infamous for the contrary; though I think the most inveterate of our Enemies would have spar'd him that labour, by granting that all Ages have pro∣duc'd Persons famous or infamous of both Sexes; or they must throw up all pretence to Modesty, or Reason.

I have neither Learning, nor In∣clination to make a Precedent, or indeed any use of Mr. W's. labour'd Common Place Book; and shall leave Pedants and School-Boys to rake and tumble the Rubbish of Antiquity, and muster all the He∣roes and Heroins they can find to furnish matter for some wretched Harangue, or stuff a miserable De∣clamation with instead of Sense or Argument.

I shall not enter into any dispute,* 1.1 whether Men, or Women be gene∣rally more ingenious, or learned; that Point must be given up to the advantages Men have over us by their Education, Freedom of Con∣verse, and variety of Business and Company. But when any Compa∣rison is made between 'em, great allowances must be made for the disparity of those Circumstances. Neither shall I contest about the preheminence of our Virtues; I know there are too many Vicious, and I hope there are a great many Virtuous of both Sexes. Yet this I may say, that whatever Vices are found amongst us, have in general both their source, and encourage∣ment from them.

The Question I shall at present handle is, whether the time an in∣genious Gentleman spends in the Company of Women, may justly be said to be misemploy'd, or not? I put the question in general terms; because whoever holds the affirma∣tive must maintain it so, or the Sex

is no way concern'd to oppose him. On the other side I shall not main∣tain the Negative, but with some Restrictions and Limitations; be∣cause I will not be bound to justi∣fie those Women, whose Vices and ill Conduct expose them deserved∣ly to the Censure of the other Sex, as well as of their own. The Que∣stion being thus stated, let us con∣sider the end and purposes, for which Conversation was at first instituted, and is yet desirable; and then we shall see, whether they may not all be found in the Company of Wo∣men. These Ends, I take it, are the same with those we aim at in all our other Actions, in general only two, Profit or Pleasure. These are divided into those of the Mind, and those of the Body. Of the latter I shall take no further No∣tice, as having no Relation to the present Subject; but shall confine my self wholly to the Mind, the Profit of which is the Improvement of the Understanding, and the Pleasure is the Diversion, and Re∣laxa••ion of its Cares and Passions.

Now if either of these Ends be at∣tainable by the Society of Women, I have gain'd my Point. However, I hope to make it appear, that they are not only both to be met with in the Conversation of Women, but one of them more generally, and in greater measure than in Mens.

Our Company is generally by our Adversaries represented as un∣profitable and irksome to Men of Sense, and by some of the more vehement Sticklers against us, as Criminal. These Imputations as they are unjust, especially the lat∣ter, so they savour strongly of the Malice, Arrogance and Sottishness of those, that most frequently urge 'em; who are commonly either con∣ceited Fops, whose success in their Pretences to the favour of our Sex has been no greater than their Me∣rit, and fallen very far short of their Vanity and Presumption, or a sort of morose, ill-bred, unthinking Fellows, who appear to be Men only by their Habit and Beards, and are scarce distinguishable from

Brutes but by their Figure and Ri∣sibility. But I shall wave these Re∣flections at present, however just, and come closer to our Argument. If Women are not quallified for the Conversation of ingenious Men, or, to go yet further, their friendship, it must be because they want some one condition, or more, necessarily requisite to either. The necessary Conditions of these are Sense, and good nature, to which must be ad∣ded, for Friendship, Fidelity and Integrity. Now if any of these be wanting to our Sex, it must be either because Nature has not been so liberal as to bestow 'em upon us; or because due care has not been taken to cultivate those Gifts to a competent measure in us.

The first of these Causes is that, which is most generally urg'd a∣gainst us, whether it be in Raille∣ry, or Spight. I might easily cut this part of the Controversy short by an irrefragable Argument, which is, that the express intent, and rea∣son for which Woman was created,

was to be a Companion, and help meet to Man; and that consequent∣ly those, that deny 'em to be so, must argue a Mistake in Provi∣dence, and think themselves wiser than their Creator. But these Gen∣tlemen are generally such passionate Admirers of themselves, and have such a profound value and reve∣rence for their own Parts, that they are ready at any time to sacrifice their Religion to the Reputation of their Wit, and rather than lose their point, deny the truth of the History. There are others, that though they allow the Story yet affirm, that the propagation, and continuance of Mankind, was the only Reason for which we were made; as if the Wisdom that first made Man, cou'd not without trou∣ble have continu'd that Species by the same or any other Method, had not this been most conducive to his happiness, which was the gracious and only end of his Creation. But these superficial Gentlemen wear their Understandings like their Clothes, always set and formal,

and wou'd no more Talk than Dress out of Fashion; Beau's that, rather than any part of their out∣ward Figure shou'd be damag'd, wou'd wipe the dirt of their shoes with their Handkercher, and that value themselves infinitely more upon modish Nonsense, than upon the best Sense against the Fashion. But since I do not intend to make this a religious Argument, I shall leave all further Considerations of this Nature to the Divines, whose more immediate Business and Stu∣dy it is to assert the Wisdom of Providence in the Order, and distri∣bution of this World, against all that shall oppose it.

To proceed therefore if we be naturally defective,* 1.2 the Defect must be either in Soul or Body. In the Soul it can't be, if what I have hear'd some learned Men maintain, be true, that all Souls are equal, and alike, and that consequently there is no such distinction, as Male and Female Souls; that there are no innate Idea's, but that all the

Notions we have, are deriv'd from our External Senses, either imme∣diately, or by Reflection. These Metaphysical Speculations, I must own Madam, require much more Learning and a stronger Head, than I can pretend to be Mistress of, to be consider'd as they ought: Yet so bold I may be, as to undertake the defence of these Opinions, when any of our jingling Opponents think fit to refute 'em.

Neither can it be in the Body,* 1.3 (if I may credit the Report of lear∣ned Physicians) for there is no dif∣ference in the Organization of those Parts, which have any relation to, or influence over the Minds; but the Brain, and all other Parts (which I am not Anatomist enough to name) are contriv'd as well for the plentiful conveyance of Spirits, which are held to be the immedi∣ate Instruments of Sensation, in Wo∣men, as Men. I see therefore no natural Impediment in the structure of our Bodies; nor does Experience, or Observation argue any: We use all

our Natural Faculties, as well as Men, nay and our Rational too, de∣ducting only for the advantages be∣fore mention'd.

Let us appeal yet further to Ex∣perience,* 1.4 and observe those Crea∣tures that deviate least from simple Nature, and see if we can find a∣ny difference in Sense, or under∣standing between Males and Fe∣males. In these we may see Na∣ture plainest, who lie under no constraint of Custom or Laws, but those of Passion or Appetite, which are Natures, and know no difference of Education, nor re∣ceive any Byass by prejudice. We see great distance in Degrees of Understanding, Wit, Cunning and Docility (call them what you please) between the several Species of Brutes. An Ape, a Dog, a Fox, are by daily Observation found to be more Docile, and more Subtle than an Ox, a Swine, or a Sheep. But a She Ape is as full of, and as ready at Imitation as a He: a Bitch will learn as many

Tricks in as short a time as a Dog, a Female Fox has as many Wiles as a Male. A thousand instances of this kind might be produc'd; but I think these are so plain, that to instance more were a superfluous la∣bour; I shall only once more take notice, that in Brutes and other A∣nimals there is no difference be∣twixt Male and Female in point of Sagacity, notwithstanding there is the same distinction of Sexes, that is between Men and Women. I have read, that some Philosophers have held Brutes to be no more than meer Machines, a sort of Di∣vine Clock-work, that Act only by the force of nice unseen Springs without Sensation, and cry out without feeling Pain, Eat without Hunger, Drink without Thirst, fawn upon their Keepers without seeing 'em, hunt Hares without Smelling, &c. Here Madam is co∣ver for our Antagonists against the last Argument so thick, that there is no beating 'em out. For my part, I shall not envy 'em their re∣fuge, let 'em lie like the wild Irish

secure within their Boggs; the field is at least ours, so long as they keep to their Fastnesses. But to quit this Topick, I shall only add, that if the learnedest He of 'em all can convince me of the truth of this Opinion, He will very much stagger my Faith; for hitherto I have been able to observe no dif∣ference between our Knowledge and theirs, but a gradual one; and depend upon Revelation alone, that our Souls are Immortal, and theirs not.

But if an Argument from Brutes and other Animals shall not be al∣low'd as conclusive,* 1.5 (though I can't see, why such an Inference should not be valid, since the parity of Reason is the same on both sides in this Case.) I shall desire those, that hold against us to observe the Country People, I mean the inferiour sort of them, such as not having Stocks to follow Husban∣dry upon their own Score, subsist upon their daily Labour. For a∣mongst these, though not so equal

as that of Brutes, yet the Condi∣tion of the two Sexes is more le∣vel, than amongst Gentlemen, Ci∣ty Traders, or rich Yeomen. Ex∣amine them in their several Busi∣nesses, and their Capacities will ap∣pear equal; but talk to them of things indifferent, and out of the Road of their constant Employment, and the Ballance will fall on our side, the Women will be found the more ready and polite. Let us look a little further, and view our Sex in a state of more improve∣ment, amongst our Neighbours the Dutch. There we shall find them managing not only the Domestick Affairs of the Family, but making, and receiving all Payments as well great as small, keeping the Books, ballancing the Accounts, and do∣ing all the Business, even the nicest of Merchants, with as much Dexte∣rity and Exactness as their, or our Men can do. And I have often hear'd some of our considerable Merchants blame the conduct of our Country-Men in this point; that they breed our Women so igno∣rant

of Business; whereas were they taught Arithmetick, and o∣ther Arts which require not much bodily strength, they might supply the places of abundance of lusty Men now employ'd in sedentary Business; which would be a migh∣ty profit to the Nation by sending those Men to Employments, where hands and Strength are more re∣quir'd, especially at this time when we are in such want of People. Beside that it might prevent the ruine of many Families, which is often occasion'd by the Death of Merchants in full Business, and leaving their Accounts perplex'd, and embroil'd to a Widdow and Orphans, who understanding no∣thing of the Husband or Father's Business occasions the Rending, and oftentimes the utter Confounding a fair Estate; which might be pre∣vented, did the Wife but under∣stand Merchants Accounts, and were made acquainted with the Books.

I have yet another Argument from Nature, which is, that the very Make and Temper of our Bo∣dies shew that we were never de∣sign'd for Fatigue; and the Viva∣city of our Wits, and Readiness of our Invention (which are confess'd even by our Adversaries) demon∣strate that we were chiefly intend∣ed for Thought and the Exercise of the Mind. Whereas on the contra∣ry it is apparent from the strength and size of their Limbs, the Vi∣gour and Hardiness of their Con∣stitutions, that Men were purpose∣ly fram'd and contriv'd for Action, and Labour. And herein the Wis∣dom and Contrivance of Providence is abundantly manifested; for as the one Sex is fortified with Cou∣rage and Ability to undergo the necessary Drudgery of providing Materials for the sustenance of Life in both; so the other is fur∣nish'd with Ingenuity and Prudence for the orderly management and distribution of it, for the Relief and Comfort of a Family; and is over and above enrich'd with a peculiar

Tenderness and Care requisite to the Cherishing their poor helpless Off-spring. I know our Opposers usually miscall our quickness of Thought, Fancy and Flash, and christen their own heaviness by the specious Names of Judgment and Solidity; but it is easie to retort upon 'em the reproachful Ones of Dullness and Stupidity with more Justice. I shall pursue this Point no further, but continue firm in my Persuasion, that Nature has not been so Niggardly to us, as our Adversaries would insinuate, till I see better cause to the contrary, then I have hitherto at any time done. Yet I am ready to yield to Conviction, whoever offers it; which I don't suddenly ex∣pect.

It remains then for us to enquire, whether the Bounty of Nature be wholly neglected, or stifled by us, or so far as to make us unworthy the Company of Men? Or whether our Education (as bad as it is) be not sufficient to make us a use∣ful,

nay a necessary part of Society for the greatest part of Mankind. This cause is seldom indeed urg'd against us by the Men, though it be the only one, that gives 'em a∣ny advantage over us in under∣standing. But it does not serve their Pride, there is no Honour to be gain'd by it: For a Man ought no more to value himself upon be∣ing Wiser than a Woman, if he owe his Advantage to a better E∣ducation, and greater means of In∣formation, then he ought to boast of his Courage, for beating a Man, when his Hands were bound. Nay it would be so far from Honourable to contend for preference upon this Score, that they would thereby at once argue themselves guilty both of Tyranny, and of Fear: I think I need not have mention'd the lat∣ter;* 1.6 for none can be Tyrants but Cowards. For nothing makes one Party slavishly depress another, but their fear that they may at one time or other become Strong or Couragious enough to make them∣selves equal to, if not superiour to

their Masters. This is our Case; for Men being sensible as well of the Abilities of Mind in our Sex, as of the strength of Body in their own, began to grow Jealous, that we, who in the Infancy of the World were their Equals and Part∣ners in Dominion, might in pro∣cess of Time, by Subtlety and Stra∣tagem, become their Superiours; and therefore began in good time to make use of Force (the Origine of Power) to compell us to a Sub∣jection, Nature never meant; and made use of Natures liberality to them to take the benefit of her kindness from us. From that time they have endeavour'd to train us up altogether to Ease and Igno∣rance; as Conquerors use to do to those, they reduce by Force, that so they may disarm 'em, both of Courage and Wit; and consequent∣ly make them tamely give up their Liberty, and abjectly submit their Necks to a slavish Yoke. As the World grew more Populous, and Mens Necessities whetted their In∣ventions, so it increas'd their Jea∣lousy,

and sharpen'd their Tyranny over us, till by degrees, it came to that height of Severity, I may say Cruelty, it is now at in all the Eastern parts of the World, where the Women, like our Negroes in our Western Plantations, are born slaves, and live Prisoners all their Lives. Nay, so far has this barba∣rous Humour prevail'd, and spread it self, that in some parts of Europe, which pretend to be most refin'd and civiliz'd, in spite of Christiani∣ty, and the Zeal for Religion which they so much affect, our Condition is not very much better. And even in France, a Country that treats our Sex with more Respect than most do,* 1.7 We are by the Salique Law ex∣cluded from Soveraign Power. The French are an ingenious People, and the Contrivers of that Law knew well enough, that We were no less capable of Reigning, and Governing well, than themselves; but they were suspicious, that if the Regal Power shou'd fall often into the hands of Women, they would fa∣vour their own Sex, and might in

time restore 'em to their Primitive Liberty and Equality with the Men, and so break the neck of that un∣reasonable Authority they so much affect over us; and therefore made this Law to prevent it. The Hi∣storians indeed tell us other Rea∣sons, but they can't agree among themselves, and as Men are Parties against us, and therefore their Evi∣dence may justly be rejected. To say the truth Madam, I can't tell how to prove all this from Ancient Records; for if any Histories were anciently written by Women, Time, and the Malice of Men have effe∣ctually conspir'd to suppress 'em; and it is not reasonable to think that Men shou'd transmit, or suffer to be transmitted to Posterity, any thing that might shew the weak∣ness and illegallity of their Title to a Power they still exercise so arbi∣trarily, and are so fond of. But since daily Experience shews, and their own Histories tell us, how ear∣nestly they endeavour, and what they act, and suffer to put the same Trick upon one another, 'tis natu∣ral

to suppose they took the same measures with us at first, which now they have effected, like the Rebels in our last Civil Wars, when they had brought the Royal Party under, they fall together by the Ears about the Dividend.* 1.8 The Sa∣cred History takes no notice of a∣ny such Authority they had before the Flood, and their Own confess that whole Nations have rejected it since, and not suffer'd a Man to live amongst them, which cou'd be for no other Reason, than their Tyran∣ny. For upon less provocation the Women wou'd never have been so foolish, as to deprive themselves of the benefit of that Ease▪ and Secu∣rity, which a good agreement with their Men might have afforded 'em. 'Tis true the same Histories tell us, that there were whole Countries where were none but Men, which border'd upon 'em. But this makes still for us; for it shews that the Conditions of their Society were not so easie, as to engage their Wo∣men to stay amongst 'em; but as li∣berty presented it self, they with∣drew

and retired to the Amazons: But since our Sex can hardly boast of so great Privileges, and so easie a Servitude any where as in Eng∣land, I cut this ungrateful Digres∣sion short in acknowledgment; tho' Fetters of Gold are still Fetters, and the softest Lining can never make 'em so easy, as Liberty.

You will excuse, I know Madam, this short, but necessary Digression. I call it necessary, because it shews a probable Reason, why We are at this time in such subjection to them, without lessening the Opinion of our Sense, or Natural Capacities ei∣ther at present, or for the time past; beside that it briefly lays o∣pen without any Scandal to our Sex, why our Improvements are at present so disproportion'd to those of Men. I wou'd not have any of our little, unthinking Adversaries triumph at my allowing a dispro∣portion between the Improvements of our Sex and theirs; and I am sure those of 'em that are ingenious Men, will see no reason for it from what I have said.

After having granted so great a disparity as I have already done in the customary Education, and ad∣vantagious Liberties of the Sexes, 'twere Nonsense to maintain, that our Society is generally and upon all accounts as Beneficial, Impro∣ving and Entertaining, as that of Men. He must be a very shallow Fellow, that resorts to, and fre∣quents us in hopes by our means to make himself considerable as a Schollar, a Mathematician, a Phi∣losopher, or a States-man. These Arts and Sciences are the result on∣ly of much Study and great Expe∣rience; and without one at least of 'em are no more to be acquir'd by the Company of Men, however celebrated for any or all of them, than by ours. But there are other Quallifications, which are as indis∣pensably necessary to a Gentleman, or any Man that wou'd appear to Advantage in the World, which are attainable only by Company, and Conversation, and chiefly by ours. Nor can the greatest part of Mankind, of what Quallity soever,

boast much of the use they make, or the benefit they reap from these acknowledg'd Advantages. So that Schollars only, and some few of the more thinking Gentlemen, and Men of Business have any just claim to 'em. And of these the first generally fall short enough some other way to make the Bal∣lance even.* 1.9 For Schollars, though by their acquaintance with Books, and conversing much with Old Au∣thors, they may know perfectly the Sense of the Learned Dead, and be perfect Masters of the Wis∣dom, be throughly inform'd of the State, and nicely skill'd in the Po∣licies of Ages long since past, yet by their retir'd and unactive Life, their neglect of Business, and con∣stant Conversation with Antiquity, they are such Strangers to, and so ignorant of the Domestick Af∣fairs and manners of their own Country and Times, that they ap∣pear like the Ghosts of Old Ro∣mans rais'd by Magick. Talk to them of the Assyrian, or Perssian Monarchies, the Grecians or Roman

Common-wealths. They answer like Oracles, they are such finish'd State∣men, that we shou'd scarce take 'em to have been less than Confi∣fidents of Semiramis, Tutours to Cyrus the great, old Cronies of So∣lon and Lycurgus, or Privy Coun∣cellours at least to the Twelve Coe∣sars successively; but engage them in a Discourse that concerns the present Times, and their Native Country, and they heardly speak the Language of it, and know so little of the af∣fairs of it, that as much might rea∣sonably be expected from an ani∣mated Egyptian Mummy. They are very much disturbed to see a Fold or a Plait amiss in the Picture of an Old Roman Gown, yet take no notice that their own are thred∣bare out at the Elbows, or Rag∣ged, and suffer more if Priscian's Head be broken then if it were their own. They are excellent Guides, and can direct you to e∣very Ally, and turning in old Rome; yet lose their way at home in their own Parish. They are mighty ad∣mirers of the Wit and Eloquence of

the Ancients; yet had they liv'd in the time of Cicero, and Coesar wou'd have treated them with as much supercilious Pride, and disre∣spect as they do now with Reve∣rence. They are great hunters of ancient Manuscripts, and have in great Veneration any thing, that has scap'd the Teeth of Time and Rats, and if Age have obliterated the Characters, 'tis the more valu∣able for not being legible. But if by chance they can pick out one Word, they rate it higher then the whole Author in Print, and wou'd give more for one Proverb of Solo∣mons under his own Hand, then for all his Wisdom. These Super∣stitious, bigotted Idolaters of time past, are Children in their under∣standing all their lives; for they hang so incessantly upon the lead∣ing Strings of Authority, that their Judgments like the Limbs of some Indian Penitents, become altoge∣ther crampt and motionless for waut of use.

But as these Men, will hardly be reckon'd much superiour to us up∣on the account of their Learning or Improvements, so neither will I sup∣pose another sort diametrically op∣posite to these in their Humors and Opinions:* 1.10 I mean those whose An∣cestors have been wise and provident, and rais'd Estates by their Ingenui∣ty and Industry, and given all their Posterity after 'em Means, and Lei∣sure to be Fools. These are gene∣rally sent to School in their Mino∣rity, and were they kept there till they came to Years of Discretion, might most of 'em stay, till they cou'd tuck their Beards into their Girdles before they left carrying a Satchel. In conformity to Custom, and the Fashion, they are sent ear∣ly to serve an Apprenticeship to Letters, and for eight or nine years are whipt up and down through two or three Counties from School to School; when being arriv'd a Six∣teen, or Seventeen Years of Age, and having made the usual Tour of Latin, and Greek Authors, they are call'd Home to be made Gentle∣men.

As soon as the young Squire has got out of the House of Bon∣dage, shaken off the awe of Birch, and begins to feel himself at Liber∣ty, he considers that he is now Learned enough, (and 'tis ten to one but his Friends are wise enough to be of his Opinion) and thinks it high time to shake off the bar∣barous Acquaintance he contracted, with those crabbed, vexatious, ob∣scure Fellows, that gave him so much trouble and smart at School, Companions by no means fit for a Gentleman, that writ only to tor∣ment and perplex poor Boys, and exercise the tyranny of Pedants and School-masters. These prudent re∣solutions taken, his Conversation for some years succeeding is whol∣ly taken up by his Horses, Dogs and Hawks (especially if his Resi∣dence be in the Country) and the more sensless Animals that tend 'em. His Groom, his Huntsman, and his Falconer are his Tutors, and his walk is from the Stable to the Dog-kennel, and the reverse of it. His diversion is drudgery, and he is in

highest satisfaction when he is most tir'd. He wearies you in the Morn∣ing with his Sport, in the Afternoon with the noisie Repetion and Drink, and the whole Day with Fatigue and Confusion. His Entertainment is stale Beer, and the History of his Dogs and Horses, in which he gives you the Pedigree of every one with all the exactness of a Herald; and if you be very much in his good Graces, 'tis odds, but he makes you the Compliment of a Puppy of one of his favourite Bitches, which you must take with abundance of Acknowledgments of his Civillity, or else he takes you for a stupid, as well as an ill bred Fellow. He is very constant at all Clubs and Meetings of the Country Gentle∣men, where he will suffer nothing to be talk'd or hear'd of but his Jades, his Curs, and his Kites. Up∣on these he rings perpetual Chan∣ges, and trespasses as much upon the patience of the Company in the Tavern, as upon their Enclosures in the Field, and is least imperti∣nent, when most drunk.

His grand Business is to make an Assignation for a Horse Race; or a Hunting Match, and nothing discomposes him so much as a Dis∣appointment. Thus accomplish'd, and finish'd for a Gentleman, he enters the Civil Lists, and holds the Scale of Justice with as much Blindness as she is said to do. From hence forward his Worship becomes as formidable to the Ale-Houses, as he was before Familiar; he sizes an Ale Pot, and takes the dimen∣sions of Bread with great Dexteri∣ty and Sagacity. He is the ter∣rour of all the Deer, and Poultry Stealers in the Neighbourhood, and is so implacable a Persecutor of Poachers, that he keeps a Re∣gister of all the Dogs and Guns in the Hundred, and is the Scare-Beg∣gar of the Parish. Short Pots, and unjustifiable Dogs and Nets, fur∣nish him with sufficient matter for Presentments, to carry him once a Quarter to the Sessions; where he says little, Eats and Drinks much, and after Dinner, Hunts over the last Chace, and so rides Worship∣fully

Drunk home again. At home he Exercises his Authority in gran∣ting his Letters, Pattents to Peti∣tioners for erecting Shovel Board, Tables and Ginger Bread Stalls. If he happen to live near any little Borough or Corporation that sends Burgesses to Parliament, he may be∣come ambitious and sue for the Ho∣nour of being made their Repre∣sentative. Henceforward he grows Popular, bows to, and treats the Mob all round him; and whe∣ther there be any in his Discourse or not, there is good Sense in his Kitchin and his Cellar, which is more agreeable and edifying. If he be so happy as to out-tap his Competitour, and Drink his Neigh∣bours into an Opinion of his So∣briety, he is chosen, and up he comes to that Honourable Assem∣bly, where he shews his Wisdom best by his Silence, and serves his Country most in his absence.

I give you these two Characters, Madam, as irreconcileable as Wa∣ter and Oyl, to shew that Men

may and do often Baffle and Fru∣strate the Effects of a liberal Edu∣cation, as well by Industry as Ne∣gligence. 'Tis hard to say, which of these two is the more Sottish; the first is such an Admirer of Le••∣ters, that he thinks it a disparage∣ment to his Learning to talk what other Men understand, and will scarce believe that two, and two, make four, under a Demonstration from Euclid, or a Quotation of A∣ristotle: The latter has such a fear of Pedantry always before his Eyes, that he thinks it a Scandal to his good Breeding, and Gentility to talk Sense, or write true English; and has such a contemptible Noti∣on of his past Education, that he thinks the Roman Poets good for nothing but to teach Boys to cap Verses. For my Part I think the Learned, and Unlearned Blockhead pretty equal; for 'tis all one to me, whether a Man talk Nonsense, or Unintelligible Sense, I am diver∣ted and edified alike by either; the one enjoys himself less, but suf∣fers his Friends to do it more; the

other enjoys himself and his own Humour enough, but will let no body else do it in his Company. Thus, Madam, I have set them be∣fore You, and shall leave you to determine a Point, which I can∣not.

There are others that deserve to be brought into the Company of these upon like Honourable Rea∣sons;* 1.11 but I keep them in reserve for a proper place, where I may perhaps take the Pains to draw their Pictures to the Life at full length. Let us now return to our Argument, from which we have had a long breathing while. Let us look into the manner of our Education, and see wherein it falls short of the Mens, and how the defects of it may be, and are gene∣rally supply'd. In our tender years they are the same, for after Chil∣dren can Talk, they are promiscu∣ously taught to Read and Write by the same Persons, and at the same time both Boys and Girls. When these are acquir'd, which is general∣ly

about the Age of Six or Seven Years, they begin to be separated, and the Boys are sent to the Gram∣mer School, and the Girls to Board∣ing Schools, or other places, to learn Needle Work, Dancing, Singing, Musick, Drawing, Painting, and other Accomplishments, according to the Humour and Ability of the Parents, or Inclination of the Chil∣dren. Of all these, Reading and Writing are the main Instruments of Conversation; though Musick and Painting may be allow'd to con∣tribute something towards it, as they give us an insight into two Arts, that makes up a great Part of the Pleasures and Diversions of Mankind. Here then lies the main Defect, that we are taught only our Mother Tongue, or perhaps French, which is now very fashion∣able, and almost as Familiar amongst Women of Quality as Men; where∣as the other Sex by means of a more extensive Education to the knowledge of the Roman and Greek Languages, have a vaster Feild for their Imaginations to rove in, and

their Capacities thereby enlarg'd. To see whether this be strictly true or not. I mean in what relates to our debate, I will for once suppose, that we are instructed only in our own Tongue, and then enquire whether the disadvantage be so great as it is commonly imagin'd. You know very well, Madam, that for Conversation, it is not requisite we should be Philologers, Rhetorici∣ans, Philosophers, Historians or Poets; but only that we should think pertinently and express our thoughts properly, on such matters as are the proper Subjects for a mixt Conversation. The Italians, a People as delicate in their Con∣versation as any in the World, have a Maxim that our selves, our Neighbours, Religion, or Business ought never to be the Subject. There are very substantial Reasons,* 1.12 to be given for these Restrictions for Men are very apt to be vain, and impertinent, when they talk of themselves, besides that others are very jealous, and apt to suspect, that all the good things said, are

intended as so many arguments of preference to them. When they speak of their Neighbours, they are apt out of a Principle of Emulation and Envy, natural to all the race of Adam to lessen, and tarnish their Fame, whether by open Scandal, and Defamatory Stories, and Tales, or by malicious Insinuations, invi∣dious Circumstances, sinister and covert Reflections. This humour springs from an over fondness of our selves, and a mistaken conceit that anothers loss is an addition to our own Reputation, as if like two Buckets, one must necessarily rise as the other goes down. This is the basest and most ungenerous of all our natural Failures, and ought to be corrected as much as possible e'ry where; but more especially in Italy, where Resentments are car∣ried so high, and Revenges prose∣cuted with so much Heat, and A∣nimosity. Religion is likewise ve∣ry tender there, as in all other places, where the Priests have so much Power and Authority. But even here, where our differences

and Disputes have made it more tame, and us'd it to rough hand∣ling, it ought carefully to be avoi∣ded; for nothing raises unfriendly warmths among Company more than a religious Argument, which therefore ought to be banisht all Society inten∣ded only for Conversation and Diver∣sion. Business is too dry and barren to give any Spirit to Conversation, or Pleasure to a Company, and is there∣fore rather to be reckon'd among the Encumbrances than Comforts of Life, however necessary. Besides these, Points of Learning, abstruse Speculations, and nice Politicks, ought, in my opinion, to be exclu∣ded; because being things that re∣quire much Reading and Considera∣tion, they are not fit to be canvas'd ex tempore in mixt Company, of which 'tis probable the greatest part will have little to say to 'em, and will scarce be content to be silent Hearers only; besides that they are not in their nature gay enough to awaken the good Humour, or raise the Mirth of the Company. Nor need any one to fear, that by these

limitations Conversation shou'd be restrain'd to too narrow a compass, there are subjects enough that are in themselves neither insipid, nor offensive; such as Love, Honour, Gallantry, Morality, News, Raille∣ry, and a numberless train of other Things copious and diverting. Now I can't see the necessity of any other Tongue beside our own to enable us to talk plausibly, or judiciously upon any of these Topicks: Nay, I am very confident that 'tis possible for an ingenious Person to make a very considerable progress in most parts of Learning, by the help of English only.* 1.13 For the only reason I can conceive of learning Langua∣ges, is to arrive at the Sense, Wit or Arts, that have been communi∣cated to the World in 'em. Now of those that have taken the pains to make themselves Masters of those Treasures, many have been so ge∣nerous as to impart a share of 'em to the Publick, by Translations for the use of the Unlearned; and I flat∣ter my self sometimes, that several of these were more particularly un∣dertaken

by Ingenious, good Na∣tur'd Men in Kindness and Com∣passion to our Sex. But whatever the Motives were, the obliging Humour has so far prevail'd, that scarce any thing either Ancient or Modern that might be of general use either for Pleasure, or Instru∣ction is left untouch'd, and most of them are made entirely free of our Tongue. I am no Judge ei∣ther of the Accuracy, or Elegance of such Performances; but if I may credit the report of Learned and Ingenious Gentlemen, (whose Judg∣ment or Sincerity I have no reason to question) many of those excel∣lent Authors have lost nothing by the change of Soil. I can see and admire the Wit and Fancy of Ovid in the Translation of his Epistles, and Elegies, the softness and Pas∣sion of Tibullus, the Impetuosity and Fire of Juvenal, the Gayety, Spirit and Judgment of Horace; who, though he may appear very different from himself through the diversity, and inequality of the Hands concern'd in making him

speak English, yet may easily be guess'd at from the several excel∣lent Pieces render'd by the Earl of Roscommon, Mr. Cowley, Mr. Dry∣den, Mr. Congreve, Mr. Brown and other ingenious Gentlemen, who have oblig'd the Nation with their excellent Versions of some parts of him. Nor is it possible to be in∣sensible of the sweetness and Maje∣sty of Virgil, after having read those little but Divine Samples already made Publick in Eng∣lish by Mr. Dryden, which gives us so much Impatience to see the whole Work entire by that admira∣ble Hand. I have heard some in∣genious Gentlemen say, That it was impossible to do Justice in our Tongue to these two last Celebrated Roman Poets, and and I have known others, of whose Judgments I have as high an Opini∣on, affirm the contrary; my igno∣rance of Latin disables me from determining whether we are in the right, but the Beauty of what I have already seen by the means of those Gentlemen, has so far preju∣dic'd

me in favour of the latter; that might I have 'em entire from the same hands, I think I shou'd scarce envy those who can tast the plea∣sure of the Originals. Nor is it to the Poets only, that we stand in∣debted for the Treasure of Antiqui∣ty, we have no less Engagements to those, who have successfully la∣bour'd in Prose, and have mads us familiar with Plutarch, Seneca, Cicero, and in general with all the famous Philosophers, Orators and Histori∣ans, from whom we may at once learn both the Opinions and Practi∣ces of their Times. Assisted by these helps, 'tis impossible for any Woman to be ignorant that is but desirous to be otherwise, though she know no part of Speech out of her Mo∣ther Tongue. But these are nei∣ther the only, nor the greatest Ad∣vantages we have; all that is excel∣lent in France, Italy, or any of our neighbouring Nations is now be∣come our own; to one of whom, I may be bold to say, we are behol∣ding for more, and greater Improve∣ments of Conversation, than to all

Antiquity, and the learned Langua∣ges together.* 1.14 Nor can I imagine for what good Reason a Man skill'd in Latin and Greek, and vers'd in the Authors of Ancient Times shall be call'd Learned; yet another who perfectly understands Italian, French, Spanish, High Dutch, and the rest of the European Languages, is acquain∣ted with the Modern History of all those Countries, knows their Poli∣cies, has div'd into all the Intrigues of the several Courts, and can tell their mutual Dispositions, Obliga∣tions and Ties of Interest one to a∣nother, shall after all this be thought Unlearned for want of those two Languages. Nay, though he be ne∣ver so well vers'd in the Modern Philosophy, Astornomy, Geometry and Algebra, he shall notwithstan∣ding never be allow'd that honour∣ble Title. I can see but one appa∣rent Reason for this unfair Pro∣cedure; which is, that when about an Age and an half ago, all the poor Remains of Learning then in Being, were in the hands of the School∣men;

they wou'd suffer none to pass Muster, that were not deeply engag'd in those intricare, vexatious and unintelligble Trifles, for which themselves contended with so much Noise and Heat; or at least were not acquainted with Plato and Ari∣stotle, and their Commentators; from whence the Sophistry and Subtle∣ties of the Schools at that time were drawn. This Usurpation was maintain'd by their Successors, the Divines, who to this day pretend almost to the Monopoly of Learn∣ing; and though some generous Spi∣rits have in good measure broke the neck of this Arbitrary, Tyran∣nical Authority; yet can't they pre∣vail to extend the name of Learn∣ing beyond the Studies, in which the Divines are more particularly conversant. Thus you shall have 'em allow a Man to be a wise Man, a good Naturalist, a good Mathe∣matician, Politician, or Poet, but not a Scholar, a learned Man, that is no Philologer. For my part I think these Gentlemen have just in∣verted the use of the Term, and gi∣ven

that to the knowledge of words, which belongs more properly to Things. I take Nature to be the great Book of Universal Learning, which he that reads best in all or any of its Parts, is the greatest Scholar, the most learned Man; and 'tis as ridiculous for a Man to count himself more learned than another, if he have no greater ex∣tent of knowledge of things, be∣cause he is more vers'd in Langua∣ges; as it would be for an Old Fellow to tell a Young One, his Eyes were better than his, because he Reads with Spectacles, the o∣ther without.

Thus,* 1.15 Madam, you see we may come in Time to put in for Learn∣ing, if we have a mind, without falling under the Correction of Pedants. But I will let Learning alone at present, because I have already banish'd it (though not out of disrespect) from mix'd Con∣versation; to which we will re∣turn, and of which the greatest Magazines and Supports are still

in Reserve. I mean the many ex∣cellent Authors of our own Coun∣try, whose Works it were endless to recount. Where is Love, Ho∣nour and Bravery more lively re∣presented than in our Tragedies, who has given us Nobler, or ju∣ster Pictures of Nature than Mr. Shakespear? Where is there a ten∣derer Passion, than in the Maids Tragedy? Whose Grief is more awful and commanding than Mr. Otways? Whose Descriptions more Beautifull, or Thoughts more Gal∣lant than Mr. Drydens? When I see any of their Plays acted, my Pas∣sions move by their Direction, my Indignation, my Compassion, my my Grief are all at their Beck. Nor is our Comedy at all inferi∣our to our Tragedy; for, not to mention those already nam'd for the other part of the Stage, who are all excellent in this too, Sir George Etherege and Sir Charles Sed∣ley for neat Raillery and Gallantry are without Rivals, Mr. Wicherley for strong Wit, pointed Satyr, sound and useful Observations is beyond

Imitation; Mr. Congreve for spright∣ly, gentile, easie Wit falls short of no Man. These are the Masters of the Stage; but there are others who though of an inferiour Class, yet deserve Commendation, were that at present my Business. Nay, even the worst of 'em afford us some diversion; for I find a sort of foolish Pleasure, and can laugh at Mr. D—y's Farce, as I do at the Tricks, and Impertinencies of a Monkey; and was pleased to see the humour and delight of the Au∣thor in Mr. H—n's Eating, and Drinking Play which I fancy'd was written in a Victualling House. In short, were it not for the too great frequency of loose Expressions, and wanton Images, I should take our Theaters for the best Schools in the World of Wit, Humanity, and Manners; which they might easily become by retrenching that too great Liberty. Neither have the Poets only, but the Criticks too Endeavour'd to compleat us; Mr. Dennis and Mr. Rimer have by their Ingenious, and judicious labours

taught us to admire the Beauties as we ought, and to know the faults of the former. Nor are we less beholding to these for forming our Judgments, than to those for raising our Fancies.

These are the Sources from whence we draw our gayer part of Con∣versation; I don't mean in exclusi∣on to the other parts of Poetry, in most of which (as I have heard good Judges say) we equal at least the Ancients, and far surpass all the Moderns. I honour the Names, and admire the Writings of Den∣ham, Suckling and D'avenant, I am ravish'd with the Fancy of Cowley, and the Gallantry of Waller. I re∣verence the Fairy Queen, am rais'd, and elevated with Paradise Lost, Prince Arthur composes and reduces me to a State of Yawning indiffe∣rence, and Mr. W—stl—y's Heroicks lull me to Sleep. Thus all Ranks and Degrees of Poets have their use, and may be serviceable to some body or other from the Prince to the Pa∣stry Cook, or Past-beard Box-ma∣ker.

I should mention our Saty∣rists, but it would be endless to descend to every particular, of these Mr. Oldham is admira∣ble, and to go no further, the ini∣mitable Mr. Butler will be an ever∣lasting Testimony, of the Wit of his Age, and Nation, and bid e∣ternal defiance to the Wits of all Countries, and future Ages to fol∣low him in a Path before untrack'd. Our Prose Writers, that are emi∣nent for a gay Style and Iovial Ar∣gument, are so many, that it would swell this Letter too much to name 'em, so that I shall only take no∣tice, that whoever can read with∣out Pleasure, or Laughter, The con∣tempt of the Clergy, and the fol∣lowing Letters and Dialogaes by the same Author, or the facetious Dialogues of Mr. Brown must be more Splenetick than Heraclitus, or more stupid, than the Ass he laugh'd at.

Nor are we less provided for the serious Part; Morality has gene∣rally been the Province of our

Clergy who have treated of all parts of it very largely with so much Piety, Solidity, and Eloquence, that as I think I may venture to say, they have written more upon it than the Clergy of all the rest of the World; so I believe no Body will deny that they have written better. Yet I cou'd wish, that our Ingenious Gentlemen wou'd em∣ploy their Pens oftner on these Sub∣jects; because the severity of the other's Profession obliges 'em to write with an Air, and in a Style less agreable, and inviting to Young People, Not that we are without many excellent Pieces of Morality, Humanity and Civil Pru∣dence written by, and like Gentle∣men. But it is the Excellence of 'em, and the ability of our Gentle∣men, which appears in the Spirit, Wit, and curious observations in those Pieces, which make me desire more of the same Nature, Who can read the Essays of that Wonderful Man my Lord Bacon, or the no less to be admir'd Sir Walter Raleigh's, or Mr. Osborns advice to a Son,

the Advice to a Daughter, Sir Wil∣liam Temple's, or Sir George Machen∣zie's Essays, Sir Roger L'Estrange's Essay (to which last we are like∣wise oblig'd for an incomparable Version of Seneca) and abundance of others, without wishing for more from the same or the like hands? Our Neighbours the French, have written a great deal of this kind, of the best of which we have the benefit in English; but more parti∣cularly the Messieurs, Montagne, Roche∣faucaut, and St. Evremont de∣serve to be immortal in all Langua∣ges. I need not mention any more, it is apparent from these that Wo∣men want not the means of being Wise and Prudent without more Tongues than one; nay, and Learn∣ed too, if they have any Ambition to be so.

The numberless Treatises of An∣tiquities, Philosophy, Mathema∣ticks Natural, and other History (in which I can't pass silently by, that learned One of Sir Walter Ra∣leigh, which the World he writ of

can't match) written originally in, or translated to our Tongue are sufficient to lead us a great way into any Science our Curiousity shall prompt us to. The greatest dif∣ficulty we struggled with, was the want of a good Art of Reasoning, which we had not, that I know of, till that defect was supply'd by the greatest Master of that Art Mr. Locke, whose Essay on Human Un∣derstanding makes large amends for the want of all others in that kind

Thus Madam I have endeavour'd to obviate all our Adversarie's Objections, by touching upon as great a Variety of things relating to the Subject as I conveniently cou'd. Yet I hope I have troubled you with nothing but what was necessary to make my way clear, and plain before me; and I am apt to think I have made it appear, that nothing but disencouragement or an Idle Uncurious Humour can hinder us from Rivalling most Men in the knowledge of great Variety of

things, without the help of more Tongues than our Own; which the Men so often reproachfully tell us is enough. This Idleness is but too frequently to be found among us, but 'tis a Fault equally com∣mon to both Sexes. Those that have means to play the Fool all their lives, seldom care for the trouble of being made wise. We are naturally Lovers of our Ease, and have great apprehensions of the difficulty of things untry'd; Especi∣ally in matters of Learning, the common Methods of acquiring which are so unpleasant, and un∣easie. I doubt not but abundance of noble Wits are stiffled in both Sexes, for want but of suspecting what they were able to do, and with how much facility. Experi∣ence shews us every day Block∣heads, that arrive at a moderate, nay sometimes a great Reputation by their Confidence, and brisk at∣tempts which they maintain by their Diligence; while great Num∣bers of Men naturally more In∣genious lye neglected by, for

want of Industry to improve, or Courage to exert themselves. No Man certainly but wishes he had the Reputation in, and were Respected and Esteem'd by the World as he sees some Men are for the Fruits of their Pens; but they are loth to be at the pains of an Attempt, or doubt their sufficience to perform; or what I believe is most general, never to enquire so far into themselves, and their own Abilities, as to bring such a thought into their Heads. This last I fancy is the true Reason, why our Sex, who are commonly charged with talking too much, are Guilty of Writing so little. I wish they would shake of this lazy Despon∣dence, and let the noble examples of the deservedly celebrated Mrs. Philips, and the incomparable Mrs. Behn rouse their Courages, and shew Mankind the great injustice of their Contempt. I am confident they would find no such need of the assistance of Languages as is generally imagin'd.* 1.16 Those that have of their own need not graft

upon Foreign Stocks. I have of∣ten thought that the not teaching Women Latin and Greek, was an advantage to them, if it were right∣ly consider'd, and might be im∣prov'd to a great heigth. For Girles after they can Read and Write (if they be of any Fashion) are taught such things as take not up their whole time, and not be∣ing suffer'd to run about at liberty as Boys, are furnish'd among o∣ther toys with Books, such as Ro∣mances, Novels, Plays and Poems; which though they read carelessly only for Diversion, yet unawares to them, give 'em very early a con∣siderable Command both of Words and Sense; which are further im∣prov'd by their making and receiv∣ing Visits with their Mothers, which gives them betimes the op∣portunity of imitating, conversing with, and knowing the manner, and address of elder Persons. These I take to be the true Reasons why a Girl of Fifteen is reckon'd as ripe as a Boy of One and Twenty, and not any natural forwardness of

Maturity as some People would have it. These advantages the E∣ducation of Boys deprives them of, who drudge away the Vigour of their Memories at Words, useless ever after to most of them, and at Seventeen or Eighteen are to be∣gin their Alphabet of Sense, and are but where the Girles were at Nine or Ten. Yet because they have learnt Latin and Greek, re∣ject with Scorn all English Books their best helps, and lay aside their Latin ones, as if they were alrea∣dy Masters of all that Learning, and so hoist Sail for the wide World without a Compass to Steer by. Thus I have fairly stated the difference between us, and can find no such disparity in Nature or E∣ducation as they contend for; but we have a sort of ungenerous Ad∣versaries, that deal more in Scan∣dal than Argument, and when they can't hurt us with their Weapons, endeavour to annoy us with stink Pots. Let us see therefore, Ma∣dam, whether we can't beat them from their Ammunition, and turn

their own Artillery upon them; for I firmly believe there is nothing, which they charge upon us, but may with more Justice be retorted upon themselves.

They tax us with a long List of Faults, and Imperfections, and seem to have taken a Catalogue of their own Follies and Vices, not with design to correct them, but to shift of the Imputation to us. There is no doubt, but particular Women may be found upon whom every charge may be justified; but our Sex is not answerable for them, till they prove there are no such Men, which will not be be∣fore Dooms-day. However, like ill Neighbours they bring the Dirt out of their own Homes not out of Neatness, but out of Envy to their Neighbours, at whose Doors they lay it. But let them remove their Follies as oft as they please, they are still as constant to them, as the Needle to the North Pole, they point them out which way soever they move. Let us see what these

Qualities are, they so liberally be∣stow upon, and after see how they fit the Donours, and survey 'em in their proper Figures and Co∣lours. The most familiar of these are Vanity, Impertinence, Envi∣ousness, Dissimulation, Inconstancy, &c.

To begin with Vanity,* 1.17 it is a Failing the greatest Part of Man∣kind are tinctured with, more or less. For all Men are apt to flat∣ter themselves with a Fancy, that they have some one or more good Quallities, or extraordinary Gifts, that raise 'em above the ordinary Level of Men; and therefore hug and cherish, what they think valuable and singular in 'em. It is never commendable, sometimes par∣donable, when the excellencies are real, and it is moderate so much must be allow'd to humane frailty. It is ridiculous and intol∣lerable when it is extravagant, mis∣plac'd, or groundless. It is very injudicious, and makes men com∣monly dote on their Defects, and

expose their blemishes by their Fondness, which makes 'em more remarkable by the care and orna∣ment bestow'd on 'em. It per∣suades hard Favour'd and distorted Fellows to dress, and value their Persons, Cowards to pretend to Courage, and provoke Beatings, Blockheads to set up for Wit, and make themselves ridiculous in Print, Upstarts to brag of their Families, and be reminded of the Garrets they were born, and the Stalls they were brought up in. In Women the object of it is their Beauty, and is excusable in those that have it. Those that have it not may be pardon'd, if they endeavour at it; because it is the only undis∣puted advantage our Sex has over the other, and what makes 'em respected beyond all other Perfecti∣ons, and is alone ador'd. In Men it has not only this Object, but all those before mention'd, and a hundred other. It is admirably seen in a Writing, reciting Fop Au∣thor, is in full Lustre in a Beau, but its most unlucky Prospect is in

a Swaggering Coward, who is a Fool beyond the Conviction of Smart.* 1.18 His Courage is like an Ague Fit, that leaves him upon a Fright, and returns when he is out of the reach of a Cudgel. He spends much time in the Fen∣cing School, and Fights briskly where there is no danger of Wounds nor Smart. His Hands are instru∣cted, but his Heels do him all the Service. He is a nice observer of Punctilio's, and takes more Af∣fronts than are given him. He draws first, and runs first, and if ever he makes another Man run, it is after him. He is a Pebble that sparkles like a Diamond, but wants hardness. He talks perpetually of what he will do, but thinks con∣tinually of what he shall suffer. He is often in Quarels, yet seldom in Rencounters, and is glad of a Challenge, that he may know whom, and when to avoid. He brings up the Rear at an Engage∣ment, and leads the Van in the Retreat. He is a Man of much Passion, but the most predominant

is his Fear. He offers affronts rea∣dily, but has too much honour to justifie them, and will submit to a∣ny terms of satisfaction rather than occasion Blood-shed. He is so full of Courage, that it boils over when there is no occasion, and his Sword and Person are always at Leisure, and at your Service, till you want them, and then to his great Trou∣ble, he is always indispensably en∣gag'd otherwise. He wears Red, and a long Sword openly to shew his Valour, and Mail privately to shew his Discretion. He threatens terribly, but he is like a Witch, if you draw Blood of him, he has no power to hurt you. No Man shews or boasts more of his Scars with less Reason. He scorns to take a blow in the Face, and a Back-piece is as good to him as a whole sute of Armour. He is at first the Ter∣rour of all the Young Bullies, at last their Maygame, and they blood their Cub Heclors upon him, as they do young Beagles on a Hare. Good usage makes him insolent, but he fawns like a Spaniel most

upon those that beat him. When he is discover'd by all the rest of the World, the Cheat passes still upon himself, and he is pleas'd with the terrible Figure he makes in his Glass, tho' he is ready to shake at his own Shaddow.

There are men of an humour direct∣ly opposite to this,* 1.19 yet e'ry whit as Mad, Foolish, and Vain; these are your Men of nice Honour, that love Fighting for the sake of Blows, and are never well but when they are wounded They are severe Interpreters of Looks, are affronted at every Face that don't please 'em. and like true Cocks of the Game have a quarrel to all Mankind at first sight. They are passionate Admirers of scarr'd Faces, and dote on a Wooden Leg. They receive a Challenge like a Billet Douce, and a home thrust as a Favour. Their common Adversary is the Constable, and their usual Lodging the Counter. Broken heads are a diversion, and an Arm in a Scarfe is a high satisfaction. They are fru∣gall

in their expences with the Tay∣lor, for they have their Doublets pinkt on their Backs, but they are as good as an Annuity to the Surgeon, tho' they need him not to let 'em blood. Flanders is their Mistress, and a Clap from her carries 'em off the Stage. If they return, an Hospital is their Retreat, or the Sheriff their Ex∣ecutour. These two, Madam, are very different extravagances, and very strange one's, yet they are real, and such as appear every day. But, what is most to be won∣der'd at, arise both from the same Principle, and the same mistaken Notion, and are only differenc'd by the diversity of Tempers in Men. The common Motive to both is Vanity, and they jointly concurr in this Opinion, that Valour is the most estimable, and most honourable Quality, that Man is capable of; they agree in a desire to be honour'd and fear'd, but they differ in their methods in persuing this common End. The one is naturally active, bold and daring; and therefore takes the true course to arrive at it by shew∣ing

what he can do, by what he dare suffer, and his immoderate de∣sire and indiscretion suffer him to know no bounds. The other is mean Spirited and fearful, and seeks by false Fire to Counterfeit a heat that may pass for genuine, to con∣ceal the Frost in his Blood, and like an ill Actor, over-does his Part for want of understanding it, which 'tis impossible he shou'd. Among peaceable Men, and those of his own Temper he comes of with Co∣lours flying, and those are the Men he wou'd be valiant amongst only, cou'd he read Men's hearts. But the first Rencounter betrays the Ass thro' the Lions Skin, and he is Cudgel'd like an Ass in Spite of his Covering. It is our happiness Ma∣dam, that we lie under no manner of Temptation from these two Vani∣ties,* 1.20 whereof one is so dangerous, the other so ridiculous. For all humours that are forc'd against the natural bent of our tempers must be so. Nature is our best guide, and has fitted ev'ry Man for somethings more particularly than others; which

if they had the sense to prosecute, they wou'd at least not be ridicu∣lous, if they were not extraordi∣nary. But so prevalent are our Vanity, and this Apish Humour of Imitation, that we persuade our selves, that we may practise with applause, whatever we see another succeed in, tho' as contrary to the intent of our Nature, as Dancing to an Elephant; so some Men that talk well of serious matters, are so mov'd at the applause some merry Drolls gain, that they forget their gravity, and aiming to be Wits, turn Buffoons; There are others, that are so taken with the actions and grimace of a good Mimick, that they fall presently to making aw∣kard Faces and wry Mouths, and are all their lives after in a Vizor, Maskt tho' bare fac'd.

These, and innumerable others of the like Nature, are the lesser Follies of Mankind, by which their Vanity makes 'em fit only to be laugh'd at. There are o∣thers, who by more studied and

refin'd Follies arrive to be more considerable, and make a great Figure and Party among their Sex.

Of the first rank of these is the Beau,* 1.21 who is one that has more Learning in his Heels than his Head, which is better cover'd than fill'd. His Taylor and his Barber are his Cabinet Coun∣cel, to whom he is more behold∣ing for what he is, than to his Maker. He is One that has tra∣vell'd to see Fashions, and brought over with him the newest cut suit, and the prettiest Fancy'd Ribbands for Sword Knots. His best Ac∣quaintance at Paris was his Dan∣cing Master, whom he calls the Mar∣quiss, and his chief Visits to the Opera's. He has seen the French King once, and knows the name of his cheif Minister, and is by this sufficiently convinc'd that there are no Politicians in any other Part of the World. His improvements are a nice Skill in the Mode, and a high Contempt of his own Coun∣try,

and of Sense. All the know∣ledge he has of the Country, or Manners of it, is in the keeping of the Valet that follow'd him hither, and all that he retains of the Lan∣guage is a few modish words to lard his discourse with, and shew his Breeding, and the names of his Garniture. He shou'd be a Philoso∣pher, for he studies nothing but himself, yet ev'ry one knows him better, that thinks him not worth knowing. His looks and gestures are his constant Lesson, and his Glass is the Oracle that resolves all his mighty doubts and scruples. He examines and refreshes his Com∣plexion by it, and is more dejected at a Pimple, than if it were a Can∣cer. When his Eyes are set to a languishing Air, his Motions all prepar'd according to Art, his Wig and his Coat abundantly Powder'd, his Gloves Essenc'd, and his Hand∣kercher perfum'd and all the rest of his Bravery rightly adjusted, the greatest part of the day, as well the business of it at home, is over; 'tis time to launch, and down he

comes, scented like a Perfumers Shop, and looks like a Vessel with all her rigging under sail without Ballast. A Chair is brought with∣in the door, for he apprehends every Breath of Air as much, as if it were a Hurricane. His first Vi∣sit is to the Chocolate House, and after a quarter of an Hours Com∣pliment to himself in the great Glass, he faces about and salutes the Com∣pany, and puts in practice his Morn∣ings Meditations; When he has made his Cringes round, and play'd over all his Tricks, out comes the fine Snush Box, and his Nose is Re∣gal'd a while: After this he begins to open, and starts some learned Argument about the newest Fa∣shion, and hence takes occasion to commend the next Man's Fancy in his Cloths, this ushers in a dis∣course of the Appearance last Birth Night, or Ball at Court, and so a Critick upon this Lord, or that Ladies Masquing Habit. From hence he adjourns to the Play-house, where he is to be met again in the side Box, from whence he makes

his Court to all the Ladies in ge∣neral with his Eyes, and is parti∣cular only with the Orange-Wench. After a while he engages some neigh∣bouring Vizor, and they together run over all the Boxes, take to Pieces every Face, examine every Feature, pass their Censure upon every one, and so on to their Dress; here he very Judiciously gives his opinion upon every particular, and determines whose Colours are well chosen, whose Fancy is neatest, and whose Cloths sit with most Air; but in conclusion sees no Body com∣pleat but himself in the whole House. After this he looks down with contempt upon the Pit, and rallies all the slovenly Fellows, and awkard Beau's (as he calls them) of t'other End of the Town, is mightily offended at their ill scented Snuff, and in spight of all his Pulvilio and Essences, is overcome with the stink of their Cordovan Gloves. To close all, Madam in the Mask must give him an account of the Scandal of the Town, which she does in the History of abun∣dance of Intrigues real or feign'd; at

all which he laughs aloud and often, not to shew his satisfaction, but his Teeth. She shews him who is kept by such a Lord, Who was lately discarded by such a Knight, for granting Favours too indiscreet∣ly to such a Gentleman: who has lately been in the Country for two or three Months upon extraordinary Occasions. To all which he gives great attention, that he may pass for a Man of Intelligence in ano∣ther Place. His next Stage is Locket's, where his Vanity, not his Stomach, is to be gratified with something that is little and dear, Quails and Ortalans are the meanest of his Diet, and a Spoonful of Green Pease at Christmass, are worth to him more than the inheritance of the Feild where they grow in Sum∣mer. Every thing falls in his E∣steem, as it falls in price, and he wou'd not so much as tast the Wine, if the hard name, and the high rate did not give it a relish. After a glass or two, (for a Pint is his stint) he begins to talk of his Intrigues, boasts much of the Favours he has receiv'd, and shews

counterfeit Tokens, and in Con∣clusion, slanders some Lady or other of unquestion'd Vertue with a par∣ticular fondness for him. His Amours are all profound Secrets, yet he makes a Confidence of 'em to every Man he meets with. He pretends a great reverence for the Ladies, and a mighty tenderness of their Reputations; yet he is like a Flesh Flye, whatever he blows on is tainted. He talks of nothing under Quality, tho' he never ob∣tain'd a Favour, which his Man might not have for half a Crown. He and his Footman in this Case are like English and Dutch at an Or∣dinary in Holland, the Fare is the same, but the Price is vastly differ∣ent. Thus the Show goes forward, till he is beaten for Trespasses he was never guilty of, and shall be damn'd for Sins he never Com∣mitted. At last, with his Credit as low as his Fortune he retires sul∣lenly to his Cloister, the King's-Bench, or Fleet, and passes the rest of his days in Privacy, and Con∣templation. Here, Madam, if you

please wee'l give him one Visit more, and see the last Act of the Farce; and you shall find him (whose Sobriety was before a Vice, as being only the Pimp to his other Pleasures, and who fear'd a lighted Pipe as much as if it had been a great Gun levell'd at him) with his Nose Flaming, and his Breath stinking of Spirits worse than a Dutch Tarpawlin's, and smok∣ing out of a short Pipe, that for some Months has been kept hot as con∣stantly as a Glass-House, and so I leave him to his Meditations.

You wou'd think it yet more strange, that any one should be Slovenly and Nasty out of Vanity; yet such there are I can assure you, Madam, and cou'd easily give a de∣scription of 'em, but that so foul a Relation must needs be Nauseous to a Person so Neat as your Self; and wou'd be treating You as the Country Squire did his Court Friend, who when he had shew'd him all the Curiosities of his House and Gardens, carried him into his Hog∣sties.

But there are more than e∣now to justifie what I have said of the Humour of Diogenes, who was as vain and as proud in his Tub, as Plato cou'd be in the midst of his fine Persian Carpets, and rich Furniture. Vanity is only an Am∣bition of being taken notice of, which shews it self variously accor∣ding to the humour of the Persons; which was more extravagant in the Anti-Beau, than in the Beau Philo∣sopher. Vanity is the veriest Pro∣teus in the World, it can Ape Hu∣mility, and can make Men decry themselves on purpose to be Flat∣tered; like some cunning Preachers that cry up Mortification and Self-denial perpetually, and are pamper'd all the while by the Zeal and at the Charges of their Followers, who are affraid the good Man shou'd starve himself. It is the Blessing of Fools, and the Folly of Ingenious Men. For it makes those contentedly hugg themselves under all the scorn of the World, and the Indignities that are offer'd 'em, and these restless and dissatisfied with

its applause. Both think the World envious, and that their merit is injur'd, and it is impossible to right either of 'em to their Minds; for those have no title to the pre∣tence of merit, and these not so much as they think they have. Yet it is the Happiness of the first that they can think themselves ca∣pable of moving Envy; for though they commonly mistake the Deri∣sion of Men,* 1.22 for their applause, yet Men are sometimes so ill Natur'd as to undeceive 'em, and then it is their Comfort, that these are en∣vious Men, and misrepresent the Worlds opinion of 'em. Cou'd these Men be convinc'd of their mistake, I see nothing that shou'd hinder them from being desperate, and hanging or disposing of them∣selves some other such way. For though a Man may comfort him∣self under Afflictions, it is either that they are undeserved, or if deserved, that he suffers only for Oversights, or rash Acts, by which the wisest Men may be sometimes overtaken; that he is in the main Discreet and

Prudent, and that others believe him so. But when a Man falls un∣der his own Contempt, and does not only think himself not wise, but by Nature made absolutely in∣capable of ever becoming Wise, he is in a deplorable State, and wants the common Comfort, as well of Fools, as Wise Men, Vanity; which in such a Case is the only proper Mediatour of a Reconcilement. No Quality seems to be more Provi∣dentially distributed to every Man according to his Necessity; for those that have least Wit, ought to have the greatest Opinion of it; as all other Commodities are rated highest, where they are scarcest. By this means the level is better maintain'd amongst Men, who, were this imaginary Equality de∣stroy'd, might be apt to reverence, and idolize one another too much, and forgetting the common Fate, they are all Born to, pay Honours too near divine to their Fellow Mortals. But as the humour of the World now runs, this sort of Idolatry is scarce likely to come in∣to

Fashion. We have too great an Opinion of our selves, to be∣lieve too well of any one else, and we are in nothing more difficult than in points of Wit and Under∣standing, in either of which we ve∣ry unwillingly yield the Preference to any Man. There is nothing of which we affect to speak with more humility and indifference than our own Sense, yet nothing of which we think with more Partiality, and Presumption. There have been some so bold as to assume the Title of the Oracles of Reason to them∣selves, and their own Writings; and we meet with others daily, that think themselves Oracles of Wit. These are the most Vexatious A∣nimals in the World, that think they have a Priviledge to torment and plague every Body; but those especially who have the best Reputa∣tion for their Wit or Judgment; as Fleas are said to molest those most, who have the tenderest Skins, and the sweetest Blood.

Of these the most voluminous Fool is the Fop Poet, who is one that

has always more Wit in his Pockets than any where else,* 1.23 yet seldom or never any of his own there. Esop's Daw was a Type of him; For he makes himself fine with the Plunder of all Parties. He is a Smuggler of Wit, and steals French Fancies without paying the customary Duties. Verse is his Manufacture; For it is more the labour of his Finger than his brain. He spends much time in Writing, but ten times more in Reading what he has Written. He is loaden constantly with more Papers, and duller than a Clerk in Chancery, and spends more time in Hearings, and Re∣hearings. He asks your Opinion, yet for fear you shou'd not jump with him, tells you his own first. He desires no Favour, yet is disap∣pointed, if he be not Flatter'd, and is offended always at the Truth. His first Education is generally a Shop, or a Counting-House, where his acquaintance commences with the Bell-man upon a new Years day. He puts him upon Intriguing with the Muses, and promises to Pimp

for him. From this time forward he hates the name of Mechanick, and resolves to sell all his stock, and purchase a Plantation in Parnassus. He is now a Poetical Haberdasher of Small Wares, and deals very much in Novels, Madrigals, Rid∣dles, Funeral, and Love Odes, and Elegies, and other Toyes from He∣lic••n, which he has a Shop so well furnish'd with, that he can fit you with all sorts and Sizes upon all Occasions in the twinkling of an Eye. He frequents Apollo's Ex∣change in Covent-Garden, and picks up the freshest Intelligence what Plays are upon the Stocks, or rea∣dy to be launch'd; who have lately made a good Voyage, who a saving one only, and who have suffer'd a Wreck in Lincoln's-Inn-Feilds, or Drury-Lane, and which are brought into the Dock to be Careen'd and fitted for another Voyage. He talks much of Jack Dryden, and Will. Wyc••erley, and the rest of that Set, and protests he can't help having some respect for 'em, because they have so much for him, and his

Writings; otherwise he cou'd shew 'em to be meer Sots and Blockheads that understand little of Poetry, in comparison of himself; but he for∣bears 'em meerly out of Gratitude, and Compassion. Once a Month he fits out a small Poetical Smeck at the charge of his Bookseller, which he lades with French Plunder new Vampt in English, small Ven∣tures of Translated Odes, Elegies and Epigrams of Young Traders, and ballasts with heavy Prose of his own; for which returns are to be made to the several Owners in Te∣sters, or applause from the Prenti∣ces and Tyre Women that deal for 'em. He is the Oracle of those that want Wit, and the Plague of those that have it; for he haunts their Lodgings, and is more terrible to em, than their Duns. His Pocket is an unexhaustible Magazine of Rhime, and Nonsense, and his Tongue like a repeating Clock with Chimes, is ready upon every touch to sound to 'em. Men avoid him for the same Reason, they avoid the Pillory, the security of their

Ears; of which he is as mercilefs a Persecutor. He is the Bane of So∣ciety, a Friend to the Stationers, the Plague of the Press, and the Ruine of his Bookseller. He is more profitable to the Grocers and Tabacconists than the Paper Manufa∣cture; for his Works, which talk so much of Fire and Flame, com∣monly expire in their Shops in Va∣pour and Smoak. If he aspire to Comedy, he intrigues with some ex∣perienc'd Damsel of the Town, in or∣der to instruct himself in the hu∣mour of it, and is cullied by her into Matrimony, and so is furnish'd at once with a Plot, and two good Characters, himself and his Wife, and is paid with a Portion for a Jointure in Parnassus, which I leave him to make his best of.

I shall not trouble you with any more Instances of the foolish vani∣ties of Mankind;* 1.24 because I am af∣fraid I have been too large upon that Head already. Not that I think there is any Order or Degree of Men, which wou'd not afford

many and notorious instances for our Purpose. For as I think Vanity almost the Universal mover of all our Actions, whether good or bad; so I think there are scarce any Men so Ingenious, or so Vertuous, but something of it will shine through the greatest Part of what they do, let them cast never so thick a Vail o∣ver it. What makes Men so solici∣tous of leaving a Reputation be∣hind 'em in the World, though they know they can't be affected with it after Death, but this even to a degree of Folly? What else makes great Men involve themselves in the Fatigues and Hazards of War, and intricate Intrigues of State, when they have already more than they can enjoy, but an Itch of being talk'd of and remem∣bred, to which they sacrifice their present happiness and repose?

But I shall carry these Conside∣rations no farther; because I have already singled out some of those many whose Vanity is more extra∣vagant and ridiculous, than any our

Sex is chargeable with, and these slight Touches may serve to let 'em see, that even the greatest, and Wisest are not wholely exempt, if they have it not in a higher De∣gree, tho' they exercise it in things more Popular, and Plausible. I hope therefore the burthen of this good Quality will not hereafter be laid upon us alone, but the Men will be contented to divide the Load with us, and be thankful that they bear less than their Proportion.

Impertinence comes next under Consideration,* 1.25 in which I shall be as brief, as I conveniently can, in regard I have been so long upon the precedeing Head. Impertinence is a humour of busying our selves about things trivial, and of no Moment in themselves, or unsea∣sonably in things of no concern to us, or wherein we are able to do nothing to any Purpose. Here our Adversaries insult over us, as if they had gain'd an intire Victory, and the Field were indisputable; but they shall have no cause for

Triumph, this is no Post of such mighty advantage as they fondly persuade themselves. This Presump∣tion arises from an Erroneous Con∣ceit, that all those things in which they are little concern'd, or con∣sulted, are triffles below their care or notice,* 1.26 which indeed they are not by Nature so well able to ma∣nage. Thus, when they hear us talking to, and advising one another about the Order, Distribution and Contrivance of Houshold Affairs, about the Regulation of the Family, and Government of Children and Ser∣vants, the provident management of a Kitchin, and the decent ordering of a Table, the suitable Matching, and convenient disposition of Furni∣ture and the like, they presently condemn us for impertinence. Yet they may be pleased to consider, that as the affairs of the World are now divided betwixt us, the Dome∣stick are our share, and out of which we are rarely suffer'd to interpose our Sense. They may be pleased to consider likewise, that as light and inconsiderable as these things

seem, they are capable of no Plea∣sures of Sense higher or more re∣fin'd than those of Brutes without our care of 'em. For were it not for that, their Houses wou'd be meer Bedlams, their most luxurious Treats, but a rude confusion of ill Digested, ill mixt Scents and Reli∣shes, and the fine Furniture, they bestow so much cost on, but an ex∣pensive heap of glittering Rubbish. Thus they are beholding to us for the comfortable Enjoyment of what their labour or good Fortune hath acquir'd or bestow'd, and think meanly of our care only, because they understand not the value of it. But if we shall be thought imperti∣nent for Discourses of this Nature, as I deny not but we sometimes justly may, when they are unsea∣sonable; what censure must those Men bear, who are prepetually talking of Politicks, State Affairs and Grievances to us, in which per∣haps neither they, nor We are much concern'd, or if we be, are not able to propose, much less to apply any Remedy to 'em? Surely these are

impertinent; not to call the Beau, or Poetaster on the Stage again, whose whole Lives are one con∣tinued scene of Folly and Imper∣tinence; let us make the best of our News Monger.

He is one whose Brains having been once over-heated,* 1.27 retain some∣thing of the Fire in 'em ever after. He mistakes his Passion for Zeal, and his Noise and Bustling, for Services. He is always full of Doubts, Fears, and Jealousies, and is never without some notable Dis∣covery of a deep laid Design, or a dangerous Plot found out in a Meal Tub, or Petticoat. He is a mighty Listner after Prodigies, and never hears of a Whale, or a Comet, but he apprehends some sudden Revolution in the State, and looks upon a Groaning-board, or a speaking-head, as fore-runners of the Day of Judg∣ment. He is a great Lover of the King, but a bitter Enemy to all a∣bout him, and thinks it impossible for him to have any but Evil Coun∣sellors, and though he be very zea∣lous

for the Government, yet he never finds any thing in it but Grie∣vances and Miscarriages to declaim upon. He is a Well-wisher to the Church, but he is never to be recon∣cil'd to the Bishops and Clergy, and rails most inveterately at the Act of Uniformity. He hates Persecution implacably, and contends furiously for Moderation, and can scarce think well of the Toleration, because it is an Act of the State. He professes himself of the Church of England, pretends to like the Worship of it, but he goes to Meetings in spight to the P••rson of his Parish. His Con∣science is very tender and scrupu∣lous in Matters of Ceremony, but it is as steely and tough as Brawn behind his Counter, and can di∣gest any Sin of Gain. He lodges at home, but he lives at the Coffee∣house. He converses more with News Papers, Gazettes and Votes, than with his Shop Books, and his constant Application to the Publick takes him off all Care for his Private Concern. He is always settling the Nation, yet cou'd never manage his

own Family. He is a mighty Stick∣ler at all Elections, and tho' he has no Vote, thinks it impossible any thing shou'd go right unless he be there to Bawl for it. His business is at Home, but his thoughts are in Flan∣ders, and he is earnestly investing of Towns till the Sheriff's Officers be∣leaguer his Doors. He is busie in forcing of Counterscarps, and storm∣ing of Breaches, while his Creditors take his Shop by surprize, and make Plunder of his Goods. Thus by mending the State, He marrs his own Fortune; and never leaves talking of the Laws of the Land, till the Execution of 'em silence him.

This sort of Impertinents the Coffee-houses are every day full of; nay, so far has this contagious Im∣pertinence spread it self, that Pri∣vate Houses, and Shops, nay, the very Streets and Bulks are infected and pester'd with Politicks and News. Not a Pot cou'd go glibly down, or a stitch go merrily for∣ward without Namur, a while ago; 'twas Spice to the Porter's Ale, and

Wax to the Cobler's Thread; the one suspended his Draught, and the other his Awl to enquire what was become of the Rogue, and were very glad to hear he was taken, and expected no doubt he shou'd come over and make 'em a Holy-day at his Execution. They were migh∣tily rejoyc'd at the Arresting of the Mareschal Boufflers, and made no question but they shou'd see him amongst the rest of the Beasts at Bartholomew Fair for Two Pence. This Folly of the Mob was in some measure excusable, because their Ig∣norance led 'em into an expectation of seeing what had given the World so much Trouble. But those that have better knowledge of things have no such Plea, they ought to have been wiser, than to have bu∣sied themselves so much and so earnestly about affairs, which all their care and Sollicitude could have no more Influence upon, than over the Weather. 'Twas pleasant to see what Shoals the report of the ar∣rival of a Holland, or Flanders Mail, brought to the Secretary's Office, the

Post Office, and the Coffee-Houses; every one Crowding to catch the News first, which as soon as they had, they posted away like so many Expresses to disperse it among their Neighbours at more distance, that waited with Ears prickt up to receive 'em, or walk'd uneasily with a Foolish Impatience to and from the Door, or Window, as if their looking out so often wou'd fetch 'em the sooner. Most Men in their News are like Beau's in their Diet, the worst is welcome while 'tis fresh and scarce, and the best is not worth a Farthing when it has been blown upon; and commonly they fare like Beau's, are fond of it while 'tis young and insipid, and neglect it when 'tis grown up to its full, and true relish. No sooner is it rumour'd that a Breach is made in the Castle Wall, or the White Flag hung out, but a Council of War is call'd in every Coffee-house in Town; the French, and Dutch Prints, their Intel∣ligencers are call'd for immediately, and examin'd, and not a Shot is mention'd but they start as if the

Ball whizz'd just then by their Ears. After this follows a serious debate about a general Assault, and whether they shall storm immediately, or not; who shall begin the Attack; what Conditions shall be granted on Capitulation. The Castle of Namur thus taken, or Surrender'd, they proceed to take their Measures, and settle the next Campaign, and whatever harm we suffer by those mischeivous French in the Field, they are sure to take sufficient Re∣venge, and pay 'em off Swingingly in the Coffee-houses: But as if this were not enough, Our greatest Actions must be Buffoon'd in Show, as well as Talk. Shall Namur be ta∣ken and our Hero's of the City not show their Prowess upon so great an Occasion? It must never be said,* 1.28 that the Coffee-houses dar'd more than Moor-Fields; No, for the honour of London, out comes the Foreman of the Shop very Formidable in Buff and Bandileers, and away he marches with Feather in Cap, to the general Rendezvous in the Artillery Ground. There these terrible Mimicks of

Mars are to spend their Fury in Noise and Smoke, upon a Namur erected for that purpose on a Mole∣hill, and by the help of Guns and Drums out-stink and out-rattle Smith-field in all its Bravery, and wou'd be too hard for the greatest Man in all France, if they had him but amongst 'em. Yet this is but Skirmishing, the hot Service is in another Place, when they engage the Capons and Quart Pots; never was Onset more Vigorous, For they come to Handy-Blows im∣mediately, and now is the real cut∣ting and slashing, and Tilting with∣out Quarter, Were the Towns in Flanders all wall'd with Beef, and the French as good meat as Capons, and drest the same way, the King need never beat his Drums for Sol∣diers; all these Gallant Fellows wou'd come in Voluntarily, the meanest of which wou'd be able to eat a Mareschal, and whom no∣thing cou'd oppose in conjunction.

Nothing is more common, and familiar than this sort of Impertin∣ence;

Most Men wou'd have little to do, did they busie themselves about nothing, but what they un∣derstood, or were concern'd in. A Monkey is not liker a Man in his Figure, than in his humour. How ready are all Mankind to censure without Authority, and to give advice unaskt, and without reason. They are very much mistaken, that think this forwardness to thrust themselves into other's affairs, springs from any Principle of Charity or Tenderness for 'em, or the least Re∣gard to the Welfare of their Neigh∣bours. 'Tis only a Vain Conceit that they are wiser, and more able to advise, which puts 'em upon en∣gaging in things they have nothing to do with,* 1.29 and passing their Judg∣ments Magisterially on matters they have no Cognizance of, and gene∣rally little Information, or Skill in. They are desirous the World shou'd have as great an Opinion of 'em as they have of themselves, and therefore impertinently interpose their own Authority and Sense, tho' never so little to the purpose, only

to shew how well they cou'd manage, were it their Business; thus they advise without good intention, or kindness, and censure without de∣sign, or malice to the Persons coun∣sell'd, or reflected on, These buz∣zing Insects swarm as thick every where, and are as troublesome as Muskettoes in the West-Indies. They are perpetually in a hurry of Business, yet are forc'd to rack their Inventions to employ their Leisure. They are very busie for every Body, and serve no Body. They are al∣ways in hast, and think themselves expected every where with Impati∣ence, yet come sooner alwayes than they are welcome. They will walk a Mile, and spend an hour to tell any one how urgent their Business is, and what hast they are in to be gone. Their Expedition is their greatest Loss, For Time is the only thing that lies heavy upon their hands. They are walking Gazetts, that carry News from one Neigh∣bour to another, and have their Stages about the Town as regular and certain, as a Penny Postman▪

Every Man is their acquaintaince, but no Man their Friend. They drudge for every Body, and are paid by no no Body, and tho' their Lives be worn out in endeavours to oblige all Mankind, when they die no one regrets their Loss, or misses their Service.

There are another sort of Im∣pertinents,* 1.30 who, as they mind not the Business of other Men where it concerns 'em not, neglect it like∣wise where it does; and amuse themselves continually with the Contemplation of those things, which the rest of the World slight as useless, and below their regard. Of these the most Egregious is the Virtuoso, who is one that has sold an Estate in Land to purchase one in Scallop, Conch, Muscle, Cockle Shells, Periwinkles, Sea Shrubs, Weeds, Mosses, Sponges, Coralls, Corallines, Sea Fans, Pebbles, Marchasites and Flint stones; and has abandon'd the Acquaintance and Society of Men for that of Insects, Worms, Grubbs, Maggets, Flies, Moths, Locusts, Bee∣tles,

Spiders, Grashoppers, Snails, Lizards and Tortoises. His study is like Noah's Ark, the general Ren∣dezvous of all Creatures in the U∣niverse, and the greatest part of his Moveables are the remainders of his Deluge. His Travels are not design'd as Visits to the Inhabitants of any Place, but to the Pits, Shores and Hills; from whence he fetches not the Treasure, but the Trumpe∣ry. He is ravish'd at finding an uncommon shell, or an odd shap'd Stone, and is desperately enamour'd at first sight of an unusual markt Butter-flie, which he will hunt a whole day to be Master of. He trafficks to all places, and has his Correspondents in e'ry part of the World; yet his Merchandizes serve not to promote our Luxury, nor encrease our Trade, and nei∣ther enrich the Nation, nor him∣self. A Box or two of Pebbles or Shells, and a dozen of Wasps, Spi∣ders and Caterpillars are his Cargoe. He values a Camelion or Salaman∣ders Egg, above all the Sugars and Spices of the West and East-indies,

and wou'd give more for the Shell of a Star-fish, or Sea Urchin entire, than for a whole Dutch Herring Fleet. He visites Mines, Colepits, and Quarries frequently, but not for that sordid end that other Men usually do, viz. gain; but for the sake of the fossile Shells and Teeth that are sometimes found there. He is a smatterer at Botany, but for fear of being suspected of any use∣ful design by it, he employs his curiosity only about Mosses, Grasses, Brakes, Thistles, &c. that are not accus'd of any vertue in Medicine, which he distinguishes and divides very nicely. He preserves careful∣ly those Creatures, which other Men industriously destroy, and cultivates sedulously those Plants, which o∣thers root up as Weeds. He is the Embalmer of deceas'd Vermin, and dresses his Mummyes with as much care, as the Ancient Egyptians did their Kings. His Cash consists much in old Coins, and he thinks the Face of Alexander in one of 'em worth more than all his Conquests. His Inventory is a list of the In∣sects

of all Countries, and the Shells and Pebbles of all Shores, which can no more be compleat without two or three of remarkable Signatures, than an Apothecaries Shop without a Tortoise and a Crocodile, or a Coun∣try Barber's without a batter'd Cittern. A piece of Ore with a Shell in it is a greater Present than if it were fine Gold, and a string of Wampompeag is receiv'd with more joy, than a Rope of Orient Pearl, or Diamonds wou'd be. His Collecti∣on of Garden Snails, Cockle Shells and Vermine compleated, (as he thinks) he sets up for a Philoso∣pher, and nothing less than Univer∣sal Nature will serve for a Subject, of which he thinks he has an en∣tire History in his Lumber Office. Hence forward he struts and swells, and despises all those little insigni∣ficant Fellows, that can make no better use of those noble inconte∣stable Evidences of the Universal Deluge, Scallop and Oyster Shells, than to stew Oysters, or melt Brim∣stone for Matches. By this time he thinks it necessary to give the

World and Essay of his Parts, that it may think as highly of 'em (if po∣ssible) as he does himself; and find∣ing Moses hard beset of late, he re∣solves to give him a lift, and de∣fend his Flood, to which he is so much oblig'd for sparing his dar∣ling Toys only. But as great Ma∣sters use, he corrects him sometimes for not speaking to his Mind, and gives him the lie now and then in order to support his Authority. He shakes the World to Atoms with case, which melts before him as readily as if it were nothing but a Ball of Salt. He pumps even the Center, and drains it of imaginary stores by imaginary Loopholes, as if punching the Globe full of holes cou'd make his Hypothesis hold Water. He is a Man of Expediti∣on, and does that in a few days, which cost Moses some Months to compleat. He is a Passionate Ad∣mirer of his own Works without a Rival, and superciliously contemns all Answers, yet the least Objection throws him into the Vapours. He sets up for a grand Philosopher, and

palms Hypotheses upon the World, which future Ages may (if they please) expect to hear his Argu∣ments for; at present he is in no humour to give 'em any other sa∣tisfaction than his own word, that he is infallible. Yet those that have a Faith complacent enough to take a Gentleman's word for his own great Abilities, may perhaps be ad∣mitted to a sight of his grand De∣monstration, his Raree Show; the particulars of which he repeats to 'em in a whining Tone, e'ry whit as formal and merry, though not so Musical, as the Fellows that used formerly to carry theirs at their Backs. His ordinary discourse is of his Travels under Ground, in which he has gone farther (if he may be believ'd) than a whole Warren of Conies. Here he began his Collection of Furniture for his Philosophical Toy Shop, which he will conclude with his Fortune, and then like all Flesh revert to the place from whence he came, and be translated only from one Shop to another.

This, Madam, is another sort of Impertience our Sex are not liable ••o; one wou'd think that none but Mad Men, or highly Hypochondria∣cal, cou'd employ themselves at this rate. I appeal to you, or indeed to any Man of Sense, whether acts like the wiser Animal; the man that with great care, and pains distin∣guishes and divides the many Vari∣eties of Grass, and finds no other Fruit of his labour, than the charging of his Memory with abundance of superfluous Names; or the Ass that eats all promiscuously, and without distinction, to satisfy his Appetite and support Nature. To what purpose is it, that these Gentlemen ransack all Parts both of Earth and Sea to procure these Triffles? It is only that they may give their Names to some yet unchristen'd Shell or Insect. I know that the desire of knowledge, and the discovery of things yet un∣known is the Pretence; But what Knowledge is it? What Discoveries do we owe to their Labours? It is only the Discovery of some few un∣heeded Varieties of Plants, Shells,

or Insects, unheeded only because useless; and the Knowledge, they boast so much of, is no more than a Register of their Names, and Marks of Distinction only. It is enough for them to know that a Silk Worm is a sort of Caterpiller, that when it is come to maturity Weaves a Web, is metamorphos'd to a Moth-Flye, lays Eggs, and so Dies. They leave all further en∣quiry to the Unlearned and Me∣chanicks, whose business only they think it to prosecute matters of Gain and Profit. Let him con∣trive, if he can, to make this Silk serviceable to Mankind; their Spe∣culations have another Scope, which is the founding some wild, uncer∣tain, conjectural Hypothesis, which may be true or false; yet Mankind neither Gainers nor Losers either way a little in point of Wisdom or Convenience. These Men are just the reverse of a Rattle Snake, and carry in their Heads, what he does in his Tail, and move Laughter ra∣ther than Regard. What improve∣ments of Physick, or any useful Arts,

what noble Remedies, what ser∣viceable Instruments have these Mushrome, and Cockle shell▪ Hunters oblig'd the World with? For I am ready to recant if they can shew so good a Med'cine as Stew'd Prunes, or so necessary an Instrument as a Flye Flap of their own Invention and Discovery. Yet these are the Men of exalted Understandings, the Men of elevated Capacities, and sublime Speculations, that Dignisie and Di∣stinguish themselves from the rest of the World by Specious Names, and Pompous Titles, and continue not∣withstanding as very Reptiles in Sense, as those they converse so much with.

I wou'd not have any Body mi∣stake me so far, as to think I wou'd in the least reflect upon any sincere, and intelligent Enquirer into Nature, of which I as heartily wish a better knowledge, as any Vertuoso of 'em all. You can be my Witness, Madam, that I us'd to say, I thought Mr. Boyle more honourable for his learn∣ed Labours, than for his Noble

Birth; and that the Royal Society, by their great and celebrated Per∣formances, were an Illustrious Argu∣ment of the Wisdom of the August Prince, their Founder of happy Me∣mory; and that they highly meri∣ted the Esteem, Respect and Honour paid 'em by the Lovers of Learning all Europe over. But tho' I have a very great Veneration for the Society in general, I can't but put a vast difference between the particu∣lar Members that compose it. Were Supererogation a Doctrine in Fa∣shion, 'tis probable some of 'em might borrow of their Fellows merit enough to justifie their Arro∣gance, but alas they are come an Age too late for that trick; They are fallen into a Faithless, Incredu∣lous Generation of Men that will give credit no farther than the visible Stock will extend: And tho' a Vertuoso should swell a Title-Page even till it burst with large Promises, and sonorous Titles, the World is so ill natur'd as not to think a whit the better of a Book for it. 'Tis an ill time to trade with im∣plicite

Faith, when so many have so lately been broken by an over∣stock of that Commodity; no sooner now a days can a Man write, or steal an Hypothesis, and promise Demonstration for it hereafter in this or the next World; but out comes some malicious Answer or other, with Reasons in hand against it, overthrows the credit of it, and puts the poor Author into Fits. For though a great Philosopher that has written a Book of three Shillings may reasonably insult, and despise a six penny Answer, yet the Indig∣nity of so low pric'd a Refutation wou'd make a Stoick fret, and Frisk like a Cow with a Breeze in her Tail, or a Man bitten by a Taran∣tula. Men measure themselves by their Vanity, and are greater or less in their own Opinions, according to the proportion they have of it; if they be well stock'd with it, it may be easie to confute, but impossible to convince 'em. He therefore that wou'd set up for a great Man, ought first to be plentifully provided of it, and then a Score of Cockle Shells,

a dozen of Hodmandods, or any Triffle else is a sufficient Foundation to build a Reputation upon. But if a Man shall abdicate his lawful Calling in pure affection to these things, and has for some years spent all the Time and Money he was Master of in prosecution of this Passion, and shall after all hear his Caterpillars affronted, and his But∣ter-flies irreverently spoken of, it must be more provoking to him, than 'tis to a Lion to be pull'd by the Beard. And if, when to crown all his Labours, he has dis∣cover'd a Water so near a kin to the famous one, that cou'd be kept in nothing but the hoof of an Ass, that it was never found but in the Scull of the same Animal; a Water that makes no more of melting a World, than a Dutchman does of a Ferkin of Butter; and when he has written a Book of Discoveries, and Wonders thereupon, if (I say) the Impertinent Scriblers of the Age, will still be demanding Proofs and writing Answers, he has reasons to throw down his Pen in a rage, and

pronounce the world, that cou'd give him such an interruption, un∣worthy to be blest with his future labours, and breath eternal Defiance to it, as irreconcilable, as the quar∣rel of the Sons of Oedipus. To which prudent Resolution, let us leave him till he can recover his Temper.

These Instances, Madam, will (I hope) suffice to shew that Men are themselves altogether as imper∣tinent, as they maliciously misre∣present us. It is not for want of plenty of others that I content my self with these; but I am not will∣ing to trouble you with any of an inferiour Character. These are all impertinents of Mark and Note, and have severally the good fortune to find crowds of Fools of their own Sex to applaud and admire them. Impertinence is a failing, that has its Root in Nature; but is not worth Laughing at, till it has receiv'd the finishing strokes of Art. A Man through natural defects may do abundance of incoherent, foolish

Actions, yet deserve Compassion and Advice rather than Derision. But to see Men spending their For∣tunes, as well as Lives, in a course of Regular Folly, and with an in∣dustrious, as well as expensive I∣dleness running through tedious Systems of impertinence, wou'd have split the sides of Heraclitus, had it been his fortune to have been a Spectator. 'Tis very easie to de∣cide which of these Impertinents is the most signal; the Vertuoso is ma∣nifestly without a Competitour. For our Follies are not to be measur'd by the degree of Ignorance, that ap∣pears in 'em, but by the Study, Labour and Expence they cost us to finish and compleat 'em. So that the more Regularity and Artifice there appears in any of our Extra∣vagancies, the greater is the folly of 'em. Upon this Score it is, that the last mention'd deservedly claim the preference to all others; they have improv'd so well their Amuse∣ments into an Art, that the Credu∣lous and Ignorant are induc'd to be∣lieve there is some secret Vertue,

some hidden Mystery in those dar∣ling toys of theirs; when all their Bustling amounts to no more than a learned Impertinence, (for so they abuse the Term) and all they teach Men is, but a specious expensive method of throwing away both Time and Money.

I intend not in what remains to trouble you with any more such in∣stances; because I am sensible these have already swell'd this Letter to a Volumn, which was not at first my intent. I shall therefore dispatch the remaining part of the charge in as few Words as possible. Amongst the rest Dissimulation is none of the least Blemishes,* 1.31 which they endea∣vour to fix upon us. This Quali∣ty, though it can't upon any oc∣casion deserve the name of a Vertue, yet according to the present Constitution of the World, is many times absolutely necessary, and is a main ingredient in the Composition of Human Prudence. It is indeed oftentimes criminal, but it is only accidentally so, as In∣dustry,

Wit, and most other good Qualities may be, according, to the Ends and Purposes to which they are misemploy'd. Dissimulation is nothing but the hiding or disguising our secret thoughts, or Inclinations under another appearance. I shall not endeavour to absolve our Sex wholly from all use of this Quality, or Art (call it which you please) be∣cause I think it may upon many ocsicaons be used with Innocence enough, and upon some can't with∣out great Imprudence be omitted. The World is too full of Craft, Ma∣lice, and Violence, for absolute Sim∣plicity to live in it. It behoves theresore our Sex as well as the o∣ther to live with so much Caution, and Circumspection in regard to their own Security, that their Thoughts and Inclinations may not be seen so naked, as to expose 'em to the Snares, designs, and practices of Crafty Knaves, who wou'd make a property of 'em; or lay 'em open to the wicked Efforts, and mischievous Impressions of Envy, or Malice, whose pleasure springs from the hurt

of others. Nothing gives our Ad∣versaries so great an advantage over us, as the knowledge of our Opin∣ions, and Affections, with some∣thing agreable to which they will be sure to bate all their Traps and Devices. For this reason it is that it has been Proverbially said of Old, that, He that knows not how to dissemble, knows not how to live. The Experience of all Ages since has confirm'd this Observation, and ours no less than any of the Preceding. This premis'd, I sup∣pose no Wise Man will blame our Sex for the use of an Art so necessary, to preserve 'em from becoming a Prey to every designing Man, an Art of which himself must make great use to deserve that Title. Yet I am afraid, that upon enquiry our Sex will not be found to have so much of it as is requisite, at least not generally; Our sedentary Life, and the narrow Limits to which our Acquaintance, and Business are Circumscrib'd, afford us so little Va∣riety, so regular a Face of things, that we want the means of obtain∣ing

the Master of so useful an Art, which no question but we shou'd as soon acquire as Men, had we but equal Opportunities. Hence it is that Women are more apt to show their Resentments upon all Provocati∣ons than Men; and are thought na∣turally more Peevish and Captious, by those that apprehend not the true reason; Whereas Men are altogether as Stomachful, and take Offence as soon, but they cover and suppress their Indignation better, not with a design to forget any Injury re∣ceiv'd, but to wreak their Revenge more covertly and effectually. This is another advantage Men derive from liberty of Conversation and promiscuous Business, wherein the Variety of Contingencies they have to provide against, and the Diver∣sity of Tempers they deal with, force 'em to turn and wind them∣selves into all Shapes, and accom∣modate themselves to all Humours. There is indeed yet a higher sort of Dissimulation,* 1.32 which is always Cri∣minal, that is when Men not only cloud their real Sentiments and In∣tentions,

but make Profession of and seem zealously to affect the con∣trary; this by a more proper and restrain'd Name is call'd Deceipt, and is always us'd in an ill Sense. This Art is most practic'd in Courts where Policie, and Ambition reign; there You may see Enemies hugging and caressing one another with all outward Expressions of Tenderness and Friendship imaginabe, while they are secretly contriving each others ruine. There you may see Men cringing to those, they wou'd Spurn if they durst, and Flattering those they despise and rail at behind their Backs, The Court is a place where we come very rarely other∣wise than as Spectators, not as Act∣ours; as Ornaments, not as Instru∣ments; and therefore are seldom involv'd in the guilty Practices of it. Nor is it the Court only, but all Places are infected with this Vice, where there is any Encouragement of Profit or Pleasure to be hop'd from successful Treachery, of which no Place is so barren as not to afford some. This Deceipt is so far from

being the Vice of our Sex, that they are the common Object on which it is daily practic'd: Nothing is more frequently met with than false Love in Men,* 1.33 which is now grown so familiar, that a Company of Six of both Sexes can scarce meet, but a Sham Passion commences immedi∣ately, is urg'd, protested, and sworn to be real with all imaginable Vio∣lence. If these false Arts, mock sighing, and Dying prevail upon any foolish, easie, credulous Woman, the Sham Lover is blown up with the Success, he is big and in La∣bour till he be deliver'd of the Secret, which with great satisfaction he proclaims in all Places where he comes: 'tis his highest Exploit of Gallantry, which he will by no means lose the credit of. Thus he thinks her ruine a step to Reputa∣tion, and founds his own Honour upon her Infamy. This Madam is the basest of Treachery; for they are not satisfied with the Suc∣cess of their false Promises, and Oaths, but they insult over the weak∣ness of a too fond Woman, and Tri∣umph

in her Dishonour. I am sorry there are any Women so foolish and forward, as to give hopes and en∣couragement to such ungenerous Fellows; yet we may be assur'd, that they are not a quarter so many as those vain Boasters wou'd make 'em. Much more be said on this head, but that I think it high time to pass on to the next, which is Enviousness, so foul a Blot to a fair Character, that no Merit can wash it out, or atone sufficiently for it.

Envy is the Parent of Calumny, and the Daughter of Jealousie. Men seldom envy others, till they fear being out strip'd by 'em in Fortune or Reputation.* 1.34 It is the most criminal, because the most injurious to Vertue, and worth of all our natural Failings, against which it's Malice is generally bent. This vice and Jealousie seem to be more particularly hated of Providence than any other; For they carry their Punishment inseparably along with 'em, The Envious and the Jealous

need no other Tormentours than their own Thoughts. The Envious Man ruines his own to disturb ano∣thers Tranquillity, and sacrifices his own Happiness and Repose to a perverse Desire of troubling his Neighbours. He feeds like Toads upon the Venome of the Earth, and sucks in Scandal greedily, that he may at Pleasure disgorge it to the greater annoyance of other Men. His mind has the Vapours, a Sweet Report of any one throws it into Convulsions, and Agonies, and a foul one is the Releif and Refresh∣ment of it. A wholesome Air free from the Blasts of Detraction and Slander is as certainly pernicious to him, as Ireland to Frogs and Toads. This Vice is generally disclaim'd by both Sexes, yet generally practic'd by both. Men love as little to have their Reputation as their Chimneys over-topt by their Neighbours; For they think by that means their names become dark, as their Houses do smoa∣ky by the other: Yet thro' a lazy Malignity had rather pull the other's down to their Level, than build

their own up higher. This Humour prevails indeed, yet not in equal Measure in both Sexes. For as we have confessedly less Ambition, so have we apparently less of this Poi∣son which usually attends it, and arises from a self Interested Princi∣ple, which makes 'em endeavour by base sinister means to level that Merit which they think stands in their way to Preferment, and which they despair of being able to sur∣mount by honourable attempts. For what need any one use base Sleights to stop the Man, whom by fair Speed he thought he cou'd overtake. No sooner is any Man rais'd to any Eminence in the World, but half the Sex at least join in Confederacy to raise a Battery of Scandal against him, to bring him down again. Honour is the Pillory of great Desert, whither a Man is no sooner rais'd, but the vile Rascally inferi∣our Croud gather immediately toge∣ther, to throw Dirt at him, and make that which was intended as a Grace, and Reward, but a more honourable Punishment. Our Sex seldom ar∣rive

to this Pitch of Envy, our Ambition is more bounded, and our Desires sooner satisfied, Hence it is that we are less troubl'd at the Pros∣perity of others; for not giving our selves the Liberty of aiming at things far out of our Power, they are the sooner compass'd, and we the sooner at Ease. He, that thinks himself Happy, is incapable of Envying another's Felicity, since he sees him possess'd of nothing which either he has not or despises not. Yet it must be confess'd that the lesser Piques, and Grudgings are daily to be met with among us, but no less among Men. What is it that spawns daily such Fryes of Satyrists without Wit, and Criticks without Judgment, but this humour of carping, and nib∣bling at the Reputation of others? But they are generally abundantly furnisht with Impudence, a good Quality that commonly supplies largely the want of all other.

A Critick of this sort is one that for want of Wit sets up for Judg∣ment;* 1.35 yet he has so much Ambition

to be thought a Wit, that he lets his Spleen prevail against Nature, and turns Poet. In this Capacity he is as just to the World as in the o∣ther Injurious. For as the Critick wrong'd ev'ry Body in his Censure, and snarl'd, and grin'd at their Writings, the Poet gives 'em Oppor∣tunity to do themselves Justice, to return the Compliment and laugh at or despise his. He wants nothing but Wit to fit him for a Satyrist, yet he has Gall and Vanity enough to dis∣pence with that Want, and write without it. His works are Libells upon others, but Satyrs upon himself, and while they Bark at Men of Wit, call him Fool that writ 'em. He takes his Malice for a Muse, and thinks himself inspir'd when he is only Possess'd, and blown up with a Flatus of Envy and Vanity. His great helps to Poetry are Crambo, and Arithmetick, by which he aspires to Chime, and Numbers, yet mistakes frequently in the tale of his Fingers. He has a very great Antipathy to his own species, and hates to see a Fool any where but in his Glass.

For (as he says) they Provoke him And offend his Eyes:* 1.36 He Follows 'em as a Dog persues his Prey, and barks whenere He smells 'em in his way: He knows, to say no more that Wit is scarce, to gingle out a Rhime, or tag a Verse: Or Cobble wretched Prose to numerous Lines: There if he has a Genius there it shines. His Fund of Criticism is a Set of Terms of Art pickt out of the French Criticks, or their Tran∣slators; and his Poetical stock is a Common Place of certain Forms and Manners of Expression. He writes better in Verse than Prose; For in that there is Rhime, in this neither Rhime nor Reason. He talks much of the Naivete of his Thoughts, which appears sufficiently in the Dullness of 'em; yet nothing but the Phlegma∣tick, Spiritless Air is his own. He rails at Mr. Oldham for want of Breeding and good Manners with∣out a grain of either, and steals his own Wit to bespa••••er him with, but like an ill Chymist, he lets the Spirit flie of in the drawing over, and retains only the Phlegm. He censures Mr. Cowley for too

much Wit, and corrects him with none. The difference between Mr. Cowley and him is this; the one has too much Wit, and too fine for the Standard; the other not enough to blanch his base Metal, or cover the Brass of his Counterfeits. To compleat himself in the Formalities of Parnassus, he falls in love and tells the World, it is oblig'd to his Passion for his Poetry; but if his Mistress prove no more indulgent than his Muse, his Amour is like to conclude but unluckily. For if his Love be no warmer than his Lines, his Corinna may play with his Flame without danger of Burning. He pretends to have written only his sincerest Thoughts; I don't know how well his Mistress may take that from the Lover, but I dare swear the World did not expect it from the Poet. He is happiest at the Picture of a Rhiming Fool, for he need only to look in his Glass, and he may Copy a Country Wit from the City Original. If this Rhiming Humour lasts, there's a good Sugar-Jobber spoil'd for an ill Poet; yet for his comfort, Time, Improvement, and two

or three Books more may raise him to Rival E—S—and sing London's Triumphs, to the Envy of Tom Jor∣dan of happy Memory.

You may wonder, Madam, why I shou'd give you the trouble of this Character, after I had given you my word to trouble you with no more of this Nature. I must confess, I am sorry that so foolish an Occasi∣on cou'd make me forget my self; but a Book newly publish'd happening just at this Juncture unluckily to fall into my Hands, I cou'd not without Indignation see the Scurrility and Insolence, with which Mr. Oldham, and Mr. Cowley are treated; and cou'd not but resent a little the Wrongs done to the Memory of Men whom the rest of the World with Justice admire; and cou'd not help taking Notice upon so fair an Opportunity, that they are not, tho' dead, to be so rudely plaid with, and made the May-Game of e'ry Splenetick Boy. There are some yet living, whose Wit and Performances deserve a more respect∣ful treatment, than they have met with from him. But they are able

to revenge their own Quarrel, if they think he deserves the honour to be Scourg'd by 'em. Nothing but Envy and a Vain Conceit of himself cou'd move him to attack the Re∣putation of Men, whose Verse will alwayes command Admiration, while his own raise nothing but Scorn and Indignation. If his Book∣seller were but blest with half a do∣zen such Authors, he wou'd in a short time infallibly be Stationer general to all the Grocers and Tobac∣conists in the Town.

After this Digression, Madam, let us return to our Subject. We stand yet charg'd with Levity, and Incon∣stancy, two Failings so nearly re∣lated and so generally United, that it his hard to treat of 'em apart;* 1.37 we will therefore consider 'em briefly to∣gether. Levity is an unsteddy Humor that makes men like and dislike, seek and reject frequently the same things upon slender or no Reasons. This is the Humour of the Infancy of both Sexes, and proceeds from the strength of their Appetites, and the weak∣ness

of their Judgments. At these tender Years every thing we see moves our Curiosities, and because we think little beyond our Appe∣tites, desire impatiently whatever pleases. This wears of in Propor∣tion to the growth of our Judg∣ments, when we begin to consider the Fatigue, Hazard, Disreputation, and other Inconveniences that at∣tend unreasonable, or inordinate Desires. Herein our Sex have a manifest Advantage over the other; For it is confess'd on all hands that our Judgments ripen sooner than theirs,* 1.38 whence of course it Follows, that this Folly prevails not so long upon us, as them. 'Tis yet true, that even the most experienc'd and wisest of Us have no small mixture of it, which appears in the greatest Part of our Actions. But it is cer∣tain likewise, that Men have a greater proportion of it than we. From this it is that Novelty deri∣ves all its Charms, and that Men persue with so much Eagerness and Impatience what they so soon slight if obtain'd. I appeal to the Expe∣rience

of all mankind, if they do not generally frame to themselves much greater Idea's of any thing they desire, and are unacquainted with, than they find real, when they become Familiar to 'em; and if they did not imagine greater Pleasures, while they were in persuit, than they met with after they were in Possession of their Wishes. The Imagery of Fancy is, like some Pain∣tings, ravishing, and surprizing at a due distance, but approach 'em near, and all the Charms and Beauty va∣nish, and they appear rough and unpleasant. Hence it is that Men grow uneasie, and their desires pall so soon upon the full enjoyment of their Wishes; they see then the imperfections as well Beauties of what they coveted, which glitter'd so far of, and like the Moon ap∣pear'd all Lustre and Smoothness, but when arriv'd at, all dark and uneven. These Fallacies Men are more submitted to than we, by those very Priviledges which give 'em in some things the advantage over us. The variety of Business,

and Society they run through, the large acquaintance they contract, give 'em encouragement to aspire to, and hopes to obtain many dif∣ficult things, which our Sex sel∣dom lift their Thoughts up to. I know this aspiring Humour of theirs is generally call'd Ambition, and I allow the Term to be proper; but their Ambition works upon their Levity, which only can make them Barter certain Ease, Peace and Se∣curity, for uncertain Pomp and Splendour; and forsake a Conditi∣on they know to be good, for one they know no more of, than that it Shines, and that it Glitters, and and so part with the true Jewel for the false one. These are the seri∣rious and applauded Follies of Mankind, and shew the Weakness and Levity of those we call the greatest, and wisest Men, that sa∣crifice the Ease and Pleasure of their Lives to Popular Breath, and sounding Titles, which is like bar∣tring a small Diamond for a large Glass Bubble.

Inconstancy is so like Levity that little more needs to be said of it,* 1.39 only that it is commonly restrain'd to the change of Affections in regard to Persons, and so is cheifly con∣cern'd in Love and Freindship. It is founded upon Levity, thro' which we first make an injudicious Choice, and are afterwards as unrea∣sonably disgusted with it. This happens oftner in Love, than Friend∣ship; because the Impressions of Love are more suddenly receiv'd, and the Effects of it more violent, than those of Friendship; and the Desires, which are commonly kindled by one single Perfection, such as Beauty or Wit, not being suddenly answered, are in Process of time extinguish'd, or abated by observation of some dis∣gustful Imperfection or other in the Person belov'd. This is indeed the true Reason,* 1.40 why Love, which is generally so hot at first, cools com∣monly so suddenly; because being generally the Issue of Fancy, not Judgment, it is grounded upon an over great Opinion of those Perfect∣ions, which first strike us, and

which fall in our Esteem upon more mature Examination. From whence it is likewise that Men are less con∣stant in their Affections, than we; for Beauty only being generally the Object of their Passion, the Effect must necessarily be as fadeing as the Cause; their Love therefore being only the result of wonder and Sur∣prize, is abated by Familiarity, and decays, as they wear of, by Degrees. Beside, that, a Love so Founded is liable to be ravish'd by any Superi∣our Beauty; or if not so, yet the Novelty of the Former once worn of, the New Comer has the assist∣ance of Fancy the Slave of Novelty to gain the Superiority. This is the Cause why so few real and last∣ing Passions are found amongst Men. For Charms depending upon, and owing their Power to Fancy; can maintain no Conquests any longer, than that is on their side, which is as inconstant as the Wind.* 1.41 In this also we are less faulty, than they; For, not usually fixing our Affe∣ction on so mutable a Thing as the Beauty of a Face, which a thousand

accidents may destroy, but on Wit, Good Humour, and other Graces of the Mind, as well as of the Body, our Love is more durable, and con∣stant in proportion to the longer continuance of those Qualities in the Object. Neither indeed have we the means, or temptation to be Fickle and inconstant so ready as Men have; For Modesty, and the Rules of Decency observ'd among Us, not permitting to us the Liberty of declaring our sentiments to those we love, as Men may, we dare not indulge a wanton Fancy, or rambling Inclination, which must be stiffled in our own Breasts, and cou'd only give us a hopeless An∣xiety, unless we were able to inspire the same Passion for us in them; which it were vain to expect, without breaking thro' all restraint of Mode∣sty and Decorum at the price of our Fame and Reputation, which I hope few are so daring as to venture. Besides this our Tempers are by Nature calm, sedace, and tender, not apt to be ruffl'd, and disturb'd by Passions, and too fearful to enter∣prize

any thing in satisfaction of 'em; theirs on the contrary, bold, active, and uneven, easily susceptible of all manner of Desires, and readi∣ly executing any Designs to gratifie 'em. Thus are we debarr'd the liberty of chusing for our selves, and confin'd to please our selves out of the number that like and address to us, of which if we fix our Af∣fections upon any one, we are generally fixt and unmoveable, as having neither the Inclination to, nor opportunity of Inconstancy, that the Men have. I don't deny but that there may be some among us guilty of this Fault, but they are vastly short of the Number of Men involv'd in the like Guilt, amongst whom it is now grown so fashionable, that is become no Scandal; but is daily justified, and the Treachery boasted of as high Gallantry. The Crimes therefore of some few Wo∣men ought, to be no reproach to the Sex in general. Of Infidelity in Friendship I shall say little, because I think there are so few Instances of any thing that deserve the Name,

that scarce any Age has been so fruitful as to produce two Pair of real and true Friends. I know that the Name is commonly given to such as are linkt by any Ties of Consan∣guinity,* 1.42 Affinity, Interest, mutual Obligations, Acquaintance, and the like: But these are such Friendships (if they may be call'd so) as are always contracted with a tacit Reserve to Interest on both sides, and seldom last longer than the Prosperity of either Party, and du∣ring that are frequently renounc'd upon slight Disobligations, or lan∣guish and die of themselves. Yet if I may presume to give my Opinion in a Case, where matter of Fact does not appear, I think we shou'd be the more Faithful even in this too: For as we are less concern'd in the Affairs of the World, so we have less Temptation from Interest to be false to our Friends. Neither are we so likely to be false thro' Fear;* 1.43 because our Sex are seldom engag'd in matters of any Danger. For these Reasons it is, our Sex are gene∣rally more hearty and sincere in the

ordinary Friendships they make than Men, among whom they are usually clogg'd with so many Con∣siderations of Interest, and Puncti∣lio's of Honour; to which last per∣haps are owing the greatest part of those honourable Actions, which are mistakenly imputed to Friend∣ship. For something done to salve Honour, commonly puts a Period to all Friendship, with unfortunate Persons; whom Men think they may afterward grow cold to without Re∣proach.

These are the most considerable Imperfections, or at least those, which with most Colour of Reason are charg'd upon us, as general De∣fects; and I hope, Madam, I have fairly shown, that the other Sex are both by Interest and Inclination more expos'd, and more Subject to 'em, than we. Pride, Lust, Cruel∣ty, and many more, are by the De∣claimers against us thrown into the Scale to make weight and bear us down, but with such manifest Injustice, that without giving my

self any further trouble, I dare appeal to any reasonable Man, and leave him to decide the Difference. I know there was a Tullia,* 1.44 a Claudia, and a Messalina; there was like∣wise, a Sardanapalus, a Nero, a Cali∣gula; but if the Sexes in general are to be reproach'd with, and mea∣sur'd by these; Human Race is certainly the vilest Part of the Cre∣ation. 'Tis very ill Logick to ar∣gue from Particulars to Generals, and where the Premisses are singular, to conclude Universally: But if they will allow us the Liberty they take themselves, and come to num∣bering the Vicious of both Sexes, they will certainly out poll us by infinite Numbers. It were therefore better Policy surely in them, to quit a way of arguing, which is at once so false, and so much to the disad∣vantage of the Cause they contend for: and when they can by sound Arguments make out any Advanta∣ges their Sex has over ours, other than what I have already granted, I am ready to be convinc'd, and be∣come their Convert; and I make

no doubt but every ingenuous Man will do as much by me. Thus I have endeavour'd to vindicate our Sex, from the unjust Imputations with which some unreasonable, mali∣cious Men wou'd load us: For I am willing to think the greater, or at least the better Part of their Sex, more generous than to encourage their Scandal. There remains no∣thing more, but to shew that there are some necessary Qualifications to be acquir'd, some good Improve∣ments to be made by Ingenious Gentlemen in the Company of our Sex.

Of this number are Complacence, Gallantry,* 1.45 Good Humour, Invention, and an Art, which (tho' frequent∣ly abus'd) is of admirable use to those that are Masters of it, the Art of Insinuation, and many others. 'Tis true a Man may be an Honest and Understanding Man, without any of these Qualifications; but he can hardly be a Polite, a Well Bred, an Agreable, Taking Man, without all, or most of these.

Without 'em Honesty, Courage, or Wit, are like Rough Diamonds, or Gold in the Ore, they have their intrinsick Value, and Worth, be∣fore, but they are doubtful and ob∣scure, till they are polish'd, refin'd, and receive Lustre, and Esteem from these.

The Principal of these is Com∣placence,* 1.46 a good Quality, without which in a competent Measure no Man is fi••ted for Society. This is best learnt in our Company, where all Men affect Gaiety, and endea∣vour to be agreable. State News, Politicks, Religion, or private Bu∣siness take up the greatest Part of their Conversation, when they are among themselves only. These are Subjects that employ their Passi∣ons too much, to leave any room for Complacence; they raise too much heat to suffer Men to be ea∣sie and pleasant, and Men are too serious when they talk of 'em, to suppress their natural Temper, which are apt to break out upon any Opposition. Men are as apt to de∣fend

their Opinions, as their Pro∣perty, and wou'd take it as well to have their Titles to their Estates que∣stion'd, as their Sense; and perhaps in that they imitate the Conduct of our Sex, and do, like indulgent Mothers, that are most tender of those Children that are weakest. But however it be, I have observ'd, when such Arguments have been introduc'd even in our Company, and by Men that affect Indifference, and abundance of Temper, that very few have been able to shew so much Mastery, but that some∣thing appear'd either in their Air, or Expression, or in the Tone of their Voices, which argued a great∣er Warmth, and Concern, than is proper for the Conversation of Gentlemen, or the Company of La∣dies. These Uneasinesses happen not so often among us, because the Men look upon us to have very little Interest in the Publick Affairs of the World, and therefore trouble us very seldom with their grave, serious Trifles, which they debate with so much earnestness among one

another. They look upon us as Things design'd and contriv'd on∣ly for their Pleasure, and therefore use us tenderly, as Children do their Favourite Bawbles. They talk gayly, and pleasantly to us, they do, or say nothing that may give as any Disgust, or Chagrin, they put on their chearfullest Looks, and their best Humour, that they may excite the like in us: They never oppose us but with a great deal of Ceremony, or in Raillery, not out of a Spirit of Opposition, (as they frequently do one another) but to maintain a pleasant Argument, or heighten by variety of Opinions an agreable Entertainment. Mirth, and Good Humour reign generally in our Society, Good Manners always; For with us Men shew in a manner, the Reverse of what they are one to another: They let their thoughts play at Liberty, and are very care∣ful of the Expression, that nothing harsh, or obscene escape 'em, that may shock a tender Mind, or offend a modest Ear. This Caution it is,

which is the Root of Complacence, which is nothing but a Desire to oblige People, by complying with their Humours. 'Tis true some Tempers are too Obstinate, and froward, ever to arrive at any great Heigth of this good Quality, yet there is nothing so stubborn, but it may be bent. Assiduity and con∣stant Practice will contract such Habits, as will make any thing easie and familiar, even to the worst contriv'd Disposition; but where Nature concurs, Men are soon Perfect. This is one great advan∣tage Men reap by our Society, nor is it to be despis'd by the Wisest of 'em, who know the use of this Accomplishment, and are sensible, that it is hardly, if at all, to be ac∣quir'd, but by conversing with us. For tho' Men may have Wit and Judgment, yet the Liberty they take of thwarting, and opposing one another makes 'em Eager, and Disputative, Impatient, Sowre, and Morose; till by conversing with us▪ they grow insensibly asham'd of such Rustick Freedom. The truth of this

is Evident from the Observation of the Universities, and Inns of Court, I mean those Students in 'em that lead a more recluse and Monastick Life, and converse little with our Sex. They want neither Wit, nor Learning, and frequently neither Generosity, nor Good Nature, yet when they come into gay, tho' In∣genious Company, are either damp'd and silent, or unseasonably Frolicksom and Free, so that they appear either Dull, or Ridiculous.

Nor is Complacence the only thing these Men want,* 1.47 they want like∣wise the Gallantry of those Men that frequent our Company. This Quality is the heigth and perfection of Civility, without which it is either Languishing, or Formal, and with which it appears always with an engaging Air of Kindness, and Good Will. It sets a value upon the most inconsiderable Trifles, and turns every Civility into an Obli∣gation. For in ordinary Famili∣arities, and civil Correspondencies, we regard not so much what, as

how things are done, the Manner is more lookt upon than the Matter of such Courtesies. Almost all Men that have had a liberal, and good Education know, what is due to Good Manners, and civil Company. But till they have been us'd a little to Our Society, their Modesty sits like Constraint upon 'em, and looks like a forc'd Compliance to uneasie Rules, and Forms of Civility. Con∣versing frequently with us makes 'em familiar to Men, and when they are convinc'd, as well of the Easiness, as the Necessity of 'em, they are soon reconcil'd to the Practice. This Point once gain'd, and they become expert in the common, and necessary Practices. Those that have any natural Bravery of Mind, will never be contented to stop there; Indifference is too cold and Phleg∣matick a thing for 'em, a little For∣mal Ceremony, and common Civi∣lities, such as are paid to e'ry one of Course, will not satisfie their Ambitious Spirits, which will put 'em upon endeavouring for better Receptions, and obliging those,

whom they can't without Reproach to themselves offend. This is the Original, and first Spring of Gallan∣try, which is an Humour of Oblig∣ing all People, as well in our Act∣ions as Words. It differs from Complacence,* 1.48 this being more active, that more passive; This inclines us to oblige, by doing or saying after our own Humours such things as we think will please; that by sub∣mitting to, and following theirs. A Man may be Complacent without Gallantry, but he can't be Gallant without Complacence. For 'tis pos∣sible to please and be agreable, with∣out shewing our own Humours to Others; but 'tis impossible with∣out some regard to theirs: yet this Pleasure will be but faint and lan∣guid, without a Mixture of both. This mixture of Freedom, Obser∣vance, and a desire of pleasing, when rightly tempered, is the true Composition of Gallantry▪ of which, who ever is compleat Master, can never fail of being both admir'd, and belov'd. This Accomplishment is best, if not only to be acquir'd by

conversing with us; for besides the natural Deference, which the Males of every observable Species of the cre∣ation pay to their Females, and the Reasons before given for Complacence, which all hold good here, there is a tender Softness in the Frame of our Minds, as well as in the Consti∣tution of our Bodies, which inspire Men, a Sex more rugged, with the like Sentiments, and Affections, and infuses gently and insensibly a Care to oblige, and a Concern not to offend us.

Hence it is that they employ all their Art,* 1.49 Wit, and Invention to say and do things, that may appear to us, surprizing and agreable either for their Novelty or Contrivance. The very End and Nature of Conversa∣tion among us retrench aboundance of those things, which make the greatest part of Men's discourse, and they find themselves oblig'd to strain their Inventions to fetch from other Springs, Streams proper to entertain us with. This puts 'em upon beating and ranging ore

the Fields of Fancy to find some∣thing new, something pretty to of∣fer to us, and by this means refines at the same time their Wit, and en∣larges, and extends their Invention; For by forcing 'em out of the com∣mon Road, they are necessitated to invent new Arguments, and seek new ways to divert and please us, and by restraining the large Liberty they take one with another, they are compell'd to polish their Wit, and File off the Roughness of it. To this they owe, the Neatness of Raillery, to which abundance of Gentlemen are now arriv'd; For Contrariety, of Opinions, being that which gives Life, and Spirit to Conversation, as well Women as Men do frequently hold Arguments contrary to their real Opinions, on∣ly to heigthen the Diversion, and im∣prove the pleasure of Society. In these the utmost Care is taken to avoid all things that may sound harsh, offensive, or indecent, their Wit is employ'd only to raise mirth, and promote good Humour, Conditions that can't well be observ'd, when

Men contend for Realities, and dis∣pute for the Reputation of their Wit or Judgment,* 1.50 and the truth of their Opinions. 'Tis true these Improvements are to be made only by Men, that have by Nature an improvable Stock of Wit and good Sense; For those that have it not, being unable to distinguish what is proper for their Imitation, are apt to Ape us in those Things which are the peculiar Graces and Ornaments of our Sex, and which are the im∣mediate Objects of Sight, and need no further Reflection, or thinking. This Affectation is notorious in our Modern Beau's, who observing the Care taken by some of our Sex in the setting of their Persons, without penetrating any farther into the Reasons Women have for it, or con∣sidering, that what became them, might be ridiculous in themselves, fall to licking, sprucing, and dres∣sing their Campaign Faces, and ill contriv'd Bodies, that now, like all Foolish Imitatours, they out do the Originals, and out-powder, out-patch, and out-paint the Vainest

and most extravagant of our Sex at those Follies, and are perpetually Cocking, Brustling, Twiring, and making Grimaces, as if they ex∣pected we shou'd make Addresses to 'em in a short Time. Yet ought not this to discourage any Ingenious Person, or bring any Scandal upon our Conversation, any more than Travelling ought to be brought into Disrepute, because it is observ'd, that those, who go abroad Fools, re∣turn Fops. It is not in our power to alter Nature, but to polish it, and if an Ass has learnt all his Paces, 'tis as much as the thing is capa∣ble of, 'twere absurd to expect he shou'd chop Logick. This is so far from being an Objection against us, that it is an Argument, that none but Ingenious Men are duely quali∣fied to converse with us; Who by our Means have not only been fit∣ted, and finish'd for great things, but have actually aspir'd to 'em. For 'tis my Opinion, that we owe the Neat, Gentile Raillery in Sir George Etheredge, and Sir Charles Sedley's Plays, and the Gallant

Verses of Mr. Waller to their Con∣versing much with Ladies. And I remember an Opinion of a very In∣genious Person, who ascribes the Ruine of the Spanish Grandeur in great measure, to the ridiculing in the Person of Don Quixot, the Gallantry of that Nation toward their Ladies. This Opinion however Ingenious carries me beyond the Scope and de∣sign of the present Argument, and therefore I shall leave all further Consideration of it to those that are more at leisure, and less weary than I am at present.

There remain yet some things to be spoken to, but I must confess to you, Madam, that I am already very much tired, and I have reason to fear that you are more. When you enjoyn'd me this Task, I believe, you did not expect, I am sure, I did not intend so long a Letter. I know I have written too much, yet I leave you to judge, whether it be enough. One Experience I have gain'd by this Essay, that I find, when our Hands are in, 'tis as

hard to stop 'em, as our Tongues, and as difficult not to write, as not to talk too much. I have done wondring at those Men, that can write huge Volumes upon slender Subjects, and shall hereafter admire their Judgment only, who can con∣fine their Imaginations, and curb their wandring Fancies. I pretend no Obligation upon our Sex for this Attempt in their Defence; because it was undertaken at your Com∣mand, and for your Diversion only, which if I have in any measure satisfied, I have my Ambition, and shall beg nothing farther, than that my ready Obedience may excuse the mean Performance of

Madam,

Your real Friend, and Most humble Servant.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Some ad∣vantages to be allow'd to the dis∣parity of Education.
• * 1.2

  No distin∣ction of Sex∣es in Souls.
• * 1.3

  No advan∣tage in the Organiza∣tion of their Bodies.
• * 1.4

  Confirm'd from Expe∣rience of Brutes.
• * 1.5

  Experience of Mankind.
• * 1.6

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.7

  Original of the Salique Law.
• * 1.8

  Amazons; why they rejected the Society of Men.
• * 1.9

  Character of a Pe∣dant.
• * 1.10

  Character of a Coun∣try Squire.
• * 1.11

  The Educa∣tion of the F••m the Sex not so defi∣cient as commonly thought.
• * 1.12

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.13

  Great Im∣provements to be made by the help of English Books only.
• * 1.14

  The name of Learn∣ing unjust∣ly restrain∣ed to the knowledge of Latin and Greek only.
• * 1.15

  English Books the best helps to Conver∣sation.
• * 1.16

  Ignorance of Latine &c. no dis∣advantage.
• * 1.17

  Vanity.
• * 1.18

  Character of a Bully.
• * 1.19

  Character of a Scow∣••er.
• * 1.20

  Imitation ridiculous.
• * 1.21

  Character of a Beau.
• * 1.22

  Vanity a Blessing to Fools.
• * 1.23

  Character of a Poeta∣ster.
• * 1.24

  Vanity U∣niversal.
• * 1.25

  Imperti∣nence.
• * 1.26

  Commonly mistaken.
• * 1.27

  Character of a Coffee-House Poli∣tician.
• * 1.28

  City Mili∣tia.
• * 1.29

  Off••ious Imperti∣n••nces.
• * 1.30

  Character of a Vertu∣oso.
• * 1.31

  Dissimula∣tion become necessary.
• * 1.32

  Dissimula∣tion when criminal.
• * 1.33

  False Love commonly practic'd.
• * 1.34

  Enviousness
• * 1.35

  Character of a City Critick
• * 1.36

  7th. Satyre of Boileau Eng.
• * 1.37

  Levity.
• * 1.38

  Less Levi∣ty among Women then Men.
• * 1.39

  Inconstancy
• * 1.40

  Love, why so soon cold.
• * 1.41

  Women con∣stanter Lo∣vers.
• * 1.42

  Friendship.
• * 1.43

  Women tru∣er Friends than Men.
• * 1.44

  More ill Men than Women.
• * 1.45

  Many Ad∣vantages from Wo∣mens Com∣pany.
• * 1.46

  Compla∣cence to be 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 it.
• * 1.47

  Gallantry acquir'd by our Compa∣ny.
• * 1.48

  Difference betwixt Compla∣cence and Gallantry.
• * 1.49

  Invention 〈◊…〉〈◊…〉 our So∣ciety.
• * 1.50

  Fools no fit Companions for Women.