SKETCHES
OF THE 
HISTORY, GENIUS, DISPOSITION, 
ACCOMPLISHMENTS, EMPLOYMENTS, 
CUSTOMS and IMPORTANCE
OF THE 
FAIR SEX, 
IN ALL PARTS OF THE WORLD.
INTERSPERSED WITH
MANY SINGULAR AND ENTERTAINING
ANECDOTES.
BY A FRIEND TO THE SEX.
"NATURE MADE YOU TO TEMPER MAN."
Otway.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRINTED BY SAMUEL SANSOM, JUN. No. 27,
MULBERRY-STREET. 



ADVERTISEMENT.
TO give a brief detail of the history of the
Fair Sex- to inspire them with a sense
of their value and importance- to excite
them to laudable pursuits- to teach them
that
" Virtue alone is happiness below ;"
that an amiable conduct can only secure love
and esteem- and to furnish them with inno-
cent amusement- is the design of this little
work.
The following authors have been consulted
for materials: Doctors Robertson, Alex-
ander, Hawkesworth, Goldsmith, Gregory,
Fordyce, and Schomberg ; Professors Fergu-
son and Miller; Fenelon, Montaigne, Tho-
mas, Grosley, Knox, and Hayley; Lady
Pennington, Mrs. Kindersley, and others.



CONTENTS.
Chap. page
I. OF the first woman, and her antedilu-
vian descendants - l
II. Of woman in the patriarchal ages - 3
III. Of the women of ancient Egypt - 5
IV. Of the modern Egyptian women - 7
V. Of the Persian women - 10
VI. Of the Grecian women - 12
VII. Of the Grecian courtezans - 16
VIII. Of the Roman women - 20
IX. Laws and customs respecting the Roman
women - 26
X. On the effects of Christianity on the man-
ners of women - 29
XI. Of women in savage life - 32
XII. Of the Eastern women - 37
XIII. Of the Chinese women - 42
XIV. Of the wives of the Indian priests - 43
XV. A comparison between the Mahometans
and Dutch, with regard to their women 43
XVI. Of the African women - 47
XVII. Of the effects of chivalry on the cha-
racters and manners of women - 50
XVIII. The opinion of two modern authors
concerning chivalry - 55
XIX. Of the great interprises of women in
the times of chivalry - 60
XX. Other curious particulars concerning
females in those ages - 63
XXI Of the Arabian women - 67
XXII. On the learning of women - 69 

CONTENTS. vi
Chap. page
XXIII. Of the European women - 74
XXIV. Of the French women - 75
XXV. Of the Italian women - 8o
XXVI. Of the Spanish women - 84
XXVII. Of the English women - 87
XXVIII.	Of the Russian women - 89
XXIX. Of the German women - 91
XXX. On the comparative merit of the	
two sexes - 95
XXXI. On the religious and domestic virtues	
of women - 102
XXXII. On female friendship - 105
XXXIII. On female benevolence - 108
XXXIV. On female patriotism - 109
XXXV. Of women, with regard to polished	
life - 111
XXXVI. On the idea of female inferiority - 113
XXXVII. On female simplicity - 117
XXXVIII. On the mild magnanimity of women - 122
XXXIX. On female delicacy - 124
XL. On female wit - 127
XLI. On female credulity - 129
XLII. On the influence of female society - 138
XLIII. Of the British ladies at different pe-	
riods - 144
XLIV. On the privileges of British women - 161
XLV. On female knowledge - 166
XLVI. On female culture and accomplish-	
ments in different ages	- 170
XLVII.	On the necessary mental accomplish-	
ments of ladies	- 176
XLVIII. On the monastic life - 181
XLIX. On sentimental attachment	- 188
L. Honorio and Eliza - 189
LI. Henry and Charlotte	- 196

CONTENTS. vii
Chap. page
LII. On the degrees of sentimental at-
tachment at different periods 200
LIII. Minds and tempers in unison are
rarely to be found - 206
LIV. A view of matrimony in three dif-
ferent lights - 208
LV. Of betrothing and marriage - 285
LVI. A picture of matrimonial felicity - 289
LVII. On the choice of a husband - 291
LVIII. On conjugal misunderstandings - 300
LIX. Mutual forbearance necessary to the
happiness of the married state 301
LX. On economy - 303
LXI. Mrs. Piozzi's advice to a new mar-
ried man -306
LXII. Garrick's advice to married ladies - 311
LXIII. On widowhood - 312
LXIV. The wish - 319
LXV. A singular epistle - 320
LXVI. The specious lover - 324
LXVII. Friendship improved into love - 331
LXVIII. Two very singular female characters
described - 332
LXIX. Dr. Schomberg's method of reading
for female improvement - 337
LXX. The sequestered lover - 340
LXXI. The history of Philocles and Panthea 266
LXXII. The deaths of Lucretia and Vir-
ginia - 269
LXXIII. The Sibyl: an oriental story - 270
LXXIV. Thoughts on the education of wo-
men - 274
LXXV. Wedded love is infinitely preferable
to variety - 276
LXXVI. The mercenary lover - 277

CONTENTS. viii
Chap. page
LXXVII. On the revolutions of the French
fashions, with some advice to
the ladies respecting certain
parts of dress - 282
LXXVIII. On looking at the picture of a
beautiful female - 291 

HISTORICAL SKETCHES
OF THE
FAIR SEX.
CHAP. I.
OF THE FIRST WOMAN, AND HER ANTEDILUVIAN
DESCENDANTS.
THE great Creator, having formed man of the
dust of the earth, " made a deep Sleep to fall
" upon him, and took one of his ribs, and closed up
" the flesh instead thereof. And the rib, which the
" Lord God had taken from man, made he a woman,
" and brought her unto the man." Hence the fair
sex, in the opinion of some authors, being formed of
matter doubly refined, derive their superior beauty
and excellence.
Not long after the creation, the first woman was
tempted by the serpent to eat of the fruit of a certain
tree, in the midst of the garden of Eden, with regard
to which God had said, " Ye Shall not eat of it, nei-
" ther Shall ye touch it, lest ye die."
This deception, and the fatal consequences arising
from it, furnish the most interesting story in the whole
history of the sex.
B It 

2 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
It is related, that Eve, not being able, for some
time, to make her husband partake of the forbidden
fruit, at last broke down a branch from the tree of
knowledge, and, making it into a cudgel, by that pow-
erful argument, soon prevailed on him to taste it.
Moses does not assign any reason why the offering
of Cain was rejected, and that of Abel accepted. An
oriental tradition, however, supplies this defect, and
informs us, that, as Cain and Abel had each of them
a twin-sister, Adam proposed that Cain Should marry
the twin-sister of Abel, and Abel the twin-sister of
Cain ; because he thought it was proper they Should
marry those that were seemingly the least related to
them. Cain's twin-sister being handsomer than the
other, he would not agree to the proposal. Adam,
displeased at his disobedience, determined to submit
the matter to the decision of the Supreme Being; and,
accordingly, ordered his sons to bring each an offering
before the Lord. On the offerings being brought, and
that of Abel accepted, Cain's jealousy and resentment
rose to such a pitch, that, as soon as they came down
from the mount where they had been sacrificing, he
fell upon his brother and slew him. And thus a wo-
man was the cause, not only of the first quarrel, but
of the first introduction of death.
For this cruel and barbarous action, Cain and his
posterity, being banished from the rest of the human
race, indulged themselves in every Species of wicked-
ness. On this account, it is supposed, they were call-
ed the Sons and Daughters of Men. The posterity of
Seth, on the other hand, became eminent for virtue,
and a regard to the divine precepts. By their regular
and amiable conduct, they acquired the appellation of
Sons and Daughters of God.
After the deluge there is a chasm in the history of
women, until the time of the patriarch Abraham. They
then begin to be introduced into the sacred story. Se-
veral 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 3
veral of their actions are recorded. The laws, customs,
and usages, by which they were governed, are fre-
quently exhibited.
CHAP. II.
OF WOMEN IN THE PATRIARCHAL AGES.
THE condition of women, among the ancient pa-
triarchs, appears to have been but extremely in-
different. When Abraham entertained the angels, sent
to denounce the destruction of Sodom, he seems to have
treated his wife as a menial servant: " Make ready
" quickly," said he to her, " three measures of fine
" meal, knead it, and make cakes on the hearth."
In the whole early history of the people of Israel,
there is hardly one instance of a woman having been
treated with indulgence, or of a captive having expe-
rienced humanity.
In many parts of the East, water is only to be met
with deep in the earth, and to draw it from the
wells is, consequently, fatiguing and laborious. This,
however, was the task of the daughters of Jethro the
Midianite; to whom so little regard was paid, either
on account of their sex, or the rank of their father, as
high-priest of the country, that the neighbouring Shep-
herds not only insulted them, but forcibly took from
them the water they had drawn.
This was the task of Rebecca, who not only drew
water for Abraham's servant, but for his camels also,
while the servant stood an idle spectator of the toil. Is
it not natural to imagine, that, as he was on an embassy
to court the damsel for Isaac, his master's son, he
would 

4 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
would have exerted his utmost efforts to please, and
become acceptable ?
When he had concluded his bargain, and was carrying
her home, we meet with a circumstance worthy of re-
main. When She first approached Isaac, who had
walked out into the fields to meet her, She did it in
the most submissive manner, as if She had been ap-
proaching a lord and master, rather than a fond and pas-
sionate lover. From this circumstance, as well as from
several others, related in the sacred history, it would
seem that women, instead of endeavouring, as in mo-
dern times, to persuade the world that they confer an
immense favour on a lover, by deigning to accept of
him, did not scruple to confess, that the obligation
was conferred on themselves.
This was the case with Ruth, who had laid her
down at the feet of Boaz ; and being asked by him
who she was, answered, " I am Ruth, thine hand-
" maid; spread, therefore, thy Skirt over thine hand-
" maid, for thou art a near kinsman."
When Jacob went to visit his uncle Laban, he met
Rachal, Laban's daughter, in the fields, attending on
the flocks of her father.
In a much later period, Tamar, one of the daugh-
ters of king David, was sent by her father to perform
the servile office of making cakes for her brother
Amnon.
The simplicity of the times in which these things
happened, no doubt, very much invalidates the strength
of the conclusions that naturally arise from them. But,
in spite of that simplicity, it still appears that women
were not then treated even with the Shadow of the deli-
cacy which they have happily experienced among
people more polished and refined.
Are there not, however, other proofs that women
were treated in an indignant manner, in the primitive
ages? Yes. Husbands had a discretionary power of
divorcing 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 5 
divorcing their wives, without assigning any reason for
it, but because they were not agreeable to them. Po-
lygamy also generally prevailed; which is so contrary
to the inclination of the sex, and so deeply wounds
the delicacy of their feelings, that it is impossible for
any woman voluntarily to agree to it, even where it is
authorized by custom and by law. Wherever therefore,
polygamy takes place, we may assure ourselves that
women have but little authority, and have scarcely ar-
rived at any consequence in society.
CHAP. III.
ON THE WOMEN OF ANCIENT EGYPT.
WHEREVER the human race live solitary, and
unconnected with each other, they are savage
and barbarous. Wherever they associate together, that
association produces softer manners, and a more en-
gaging deportment.
The Egyptians, from the nature of their country,
annually overflowed by the Nile, had no wild beasts
to hunt, nor could they procure any thing by fishing
On these accounts, they were under a necessity of ap-
plying themselves to agriculture, a kind of life which
naturally brings mankind together, for mutual conve-
nience and assistance.
They were, likewise, every year, during the inun-
dation of the river, obliged to assemble together, and
take shelter, either on the rising grounds, or in the
houses, which were raised upon piles, above the reach
of the waters. Here, almost every employment being
suspended, and the men and women long confined toge-
ther, a thousand inducements, not to be found in a
B 2 solitary 

6 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
solitary state, would naturally prompt them to render
themselves agreeable to each other. Hence their man-
ners would begin, more early, to assume a softer po-
lish, and more elegant refinement, than those of the
other nations who surrounded them.
The practice of confining women, instituted by jea-
lousy, and maintained by unlawful power, was not
adopted by the ancient Egyptians. This appears from
the story of Pharoah's daughter, who was going with
her train of maids to bathe in the river, when she found
Moses hid among the reeds. It is still more evident,
from that of the wife of Potiphar, who, if she had
been confined, could not have found the opportunities
she did, to solicit Joseph to her adulterous embrace.
The queens of Egypt had the greatest attention paid
to them. They were more readily obeyed than the
kings. It is also related, that the husbands were, in
their marriage-contracts, obliged to promise obedience
to their wives; "an obedience," says an ingenious au-
thor*, "which, in our modern times, we are often
" obliged to perform, though our wives entered into the
" promise."
The behaviour of Solomon to Pharoah's daughter
is a convincing proof that more honour and respect was
paid to the Egyptian women, than to those of any
other people. Solomon had many other wives besides
this princess, and was married to several of them before
her, which, according to the Jewish law, ought to
have entitled them to a preference. But, notwith-
standing this, we hear of no particular palace having been
built for any of the others, nor of the worship of any
of their gods having been introduced into Jerusalem.
But a magnificent palace was erected for Pharoah's
daughter; and she was permitted, though expressly
contrary to the laws of Israel, to worship the gods of
her own country.
CHAP.
* Dr. Alexander. 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 7
CHAP. IV.
OF THE MODERN EGYPTIAN WOMEN.
THE women of modern Egypt are far from being
on so respectable a footing as they were in an-
cient times, or as the European women are at present.
In Europe, women act parts of great consequence,
and often reign sovereigns on the world's vast theatre.
They influence manners and morals, and decide on
the most important events. The fate of nations is
frequently in their hands.
How different is their Situation in Egypt! There
they are bound down by the fetters of Slavery, con-
demned to servitude, and have no influence in public
affairs. Their empire is confined within the walls of
the Harem*. There are their graces and charms
entombed. The circle of their life extends not beyond
their own family and domestic duties.
Their first care is to educate their children ; and a
numerous posterity is their most fervent wish. Mo-
thers always suckle their children. This is expressly
commanded by Mahomet: Let the mother suckle her
child full two years, if the child does not quit the breast;
but she shall be permitted to wean it, with the consent of
her husband.
The harem is the cradle and school of infancy.
The new-born feeble being is not there swaddled and
filleted up in a swathe, the source of a thousand dis-
eases. Laid naked on a mat, exposed in a vast cham-
ber to the pure air, he breathes freely, and with his
delicate limbs sprawls at pleasure. The new ele-
ment, in which he is to live, is not entered with pain
and tears. Daily bathed beneath his mother's eye,
he
* The women's apartment. 

HISTORICAL SKETCHES
he grows apace. Free to act, he tries his coming
powers; rolls, crawls, rises; and, should he fall, can-
not much hurt himself on the carpet or mat which
covers the floor.
The daughter's education is the same. Whale-
bone and busks, which martyr European girls, they
know not. They are only covered with a Shift
until six years old: and the dress they afterwards
wear confines none of their limbs, but suffers the
body to take its true form ; and nothing is more un-
common than ricketty children, and crooked people.
In Egypt, man rises in all his majesty, and woman
displays every charm of person.
Subject to the immutable laws by which custom go-
verns the East, the women do not associate with the
men, not even at table, where the union of sexes pro-
duces mirth and wit, and makes food more sweet.
When the great incline to dine with one of their
wives, she is informed, prepares the apartment, per-
fumes if with precious essences, procures the most
delicate viands, and receives her lord with the utmost
attention and respect.
Among the common people, the women usually
stand, or sit in a corner of the room, while the hus-
band dines. They often hold the bason for him to
wash, and serve him at table.
Customs like these, which the Europeans rightly
call barbarous, and exclaim against with justice, ap-
pear so natural in Egypt, that they do not suspect it
can be otherwise elsewhere. Such is the power of
habit over men. What has been for ages, he sup-
poses a law of nature.
The Egyptian women, once or twice a week, are
permitted to go to the bath, and visit female relations
and friends. They receive each others visits very
affectionately. When a lady enters the harem, the
mistress rises, takes her hand, presses it to her bosom,
kisses, 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 9
kisses, and makes her sit down by her side; a slave
hastens to take her black mantle ; she is entreated to
be at ease, quits her veil, and discovers a floating robe
tied round the waist with a sash, which perfectly dis-
plays her shape. She then receives compliments
according to their manner. " Why, my mother, or
" my sister, have you been so long absent? We sighed
" to see you! Your presence is an honour to our house!
" It is the happiness of our lives!"
Slaves present coffee, sherbet, and confectionary.
They laugh, talk, and play. A large dish is placed
on the sofa, on which are oranges, pomegranates,
bananas, and excellent melons. Water, and rose-
water mixed, are brought in an ewer, and with them
a silver bason to wash the hands; and loud glee and
merry conversation season the meal. The chamber is
perfumed by wood of aloes, in a brazier ; and, the
repast ended, the slaves dance to the sound of cymbals,
with whom the mistresses often mingle. At parting
they several times repeat, " God keep you in health!
" Heaven grant you a numerous offspring! Heaven
" preserve your children ; the delight and glory of
" your family !"
When a visitor is in the harem, the husband must
not enter. It is the asylum of hospitality, and can-
not be violated without fatal consequences ; a che-
rished right, which the Egyptian women carefully
maintain, being interested in its preservation. A lover,
disguised like a woman, may be introduced into the
harem, and it is necessary he should remain undis-
covered; death would otherwise be his reward. In
that country, where the passions are excited by the
climate, and the difficulty of gratifying them, love
often produces tragical events.
The Egyptian women, guarded by their eunuchs,
go also upon the water, and enjoy the charming
prospects of the banks of the Nile. Their cabins
are 

10 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
are pleasant, richly embellished, and the boats well
carved and painted. They are known by the blinds
over the windows, and the music by which they are
accompanied.
When they cannot go abroad, they endeavour to be
merry in their prison. Toward sun-setting, they go
on the terrace, and take the fresh air among the flow-
ers which are there carefully reared. Here they
often bathe; and thus, at once, enjoy the cool, lim-
pid water, the perfume of odoriferous plants, the
balmy air, and the starry host, which shine in the
firmament.
Thus Bathsheba bathed, when David beheld her
from the roof of his palace.
Such is the usual life of the Egyptian women.
Their duties are to educate their children, take care of
their household, and live retired with their family:
their pleasures, to visit, give feasts, in which they
often yield to excessive mirth and licentiousness, go on
the water, take the air in orange groves, and listen to
the Almai. They deck themselves as carefully to re-
ceive their acquaintance, as European women do
to allure the men. Usually mild and timid, they be-
come daring and furious, when under the dominion of
violent love. Neither locks nor grim keepers can
then prescribe bounds to their passions; which,
though death be suspended over their heads, they
search the means to gratify, and are seldom unsuccessful.
CHAP. V.
OF THE PERSIAN WOMEN.
SEVERAL historians, in mentioning the ancient
Persians, have dwelt with peculiar severity on
the manner in which they treated their women.
Jealous, 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 11
Jealous, almost to distraction, they confined the whole
sex with the strictest attention, and could not bear that
the eye of a stranger should behold the beauty whom
they adored.
When Mahomet, the great legislator of the mo-
dern Persians, was just expiring, the last advice that
he gave to his faithful adherents, was, " Be watchful
" of your religion, and your wives." Hence they
pretend to derive not only the power of confining,
but also of persuading them, that they hazard their
salvation, if they look upon any other man besides
their husbands. The Christian religion informs us,
that in the other world they neither marry, nor are
given in marriage. The religion of Mahomet teaches
us a different doctrine, which the Persians believing,
carry the jealousy of Asia to the fields of Elysium
and the groves of Paradise; where, according to
them, the blessed inhabitants have their eyes placed
on the crown of their heads, lest they should see the
wives of their neighbours.
Every circumstance in the Persian history tends
to persuade us, that the motive, which induced them
to confine their women with so much care and solici-
tude, was only exuberance of love and affection. In
the enjoyment of their smiles, and their embraces, the
happiness of the men consisted, and their approbation
was an incentive to deeds of glory and of heroism.
For these reasons they are said to have been the first
who introduced the custom of carrying their wives and
concubines to the field, " That the sight," said they,
" of all that is dear to us, may animate us to fight
" more valiantly."
To offer the least violence to a Persian woman, was
to incur certain death from her husband or guardian.
Even their kings, though the most absolute in the uni-
verse, could not alter the manners or customs of the
country, which related to the fair sex.
Widely 

12 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Widely different from this is the present state of
Persia. By a law of that country, their monarch is
now authorized to go, whenever he pleases, into the
harem of any of his subjects; and the subject, on
whose prerogative he thus encroaches, so far from ex-
erting his usual jealousy, thinks himself highly ho-
noured by such a visit.
A laughable story, on this subject, is told of Shah
Abbas, who having got drunk at the house of one of
his favourites, and intending to go into the apart-
ment of his wives, was stopped by the door-keeper,
who bluntly told him, " Not a man, sir, besides my
" master, shall put a mustacho here, so long as I am
" porter." " What," said the king, " dost thou not
" know me ?" " Yes," answered the fellow, " I know
" you are king of the men, but not of the women."
Shah Abbas, pleased with the answer, and the fide-
lity of the servant, retired to his palace. The fa-
vourite, at whose house the adventure happened, as
soon as he heard it, went and fell at his masters feet,
intreating that he would not impute to him the crime
committed by his domestic. He likewise added, " I
" have already turned him away from my service for
" his presumption."-" I am glad of it," answered
the king; " I will take him into my service for his
" fidelity."
CHAP. VI.
OF THE GRECIAN WOMEN.
IT is observed by an able panegyrist for the fair,
" That the greatest respect has always been paid
" them by the wisest and best of nations." If this
be 

OF THE FAIR SEX 13
be true, the Greeks certainly forfeited one great claim
to that wisdom which has always been attributed to
them ; for we have good reason to believe, that they 
regarded their women only as instruments of raising up
members to the state.
In order to esteem the sex, we must do more than
see them. By social intercourse, and a mutual reci-
procation of good offices, we must become acquainted
with their worth and excellence. This, to the Greeks,
was a pleasure totally unknown. As the women lived
retired in their own apartments, if they had any amia-
ble qualities, they were buried in perpetual obscurity.
Even husbands were, in Sparta, limited as to the time
and duration of the visits made to their wives ; and it
was the custom at meals for the two sexes always to
eat separately.
The apartments destined for the women, in order
to keep them more private, were always in the back
and generally in the upper part, of the house. The
famous Helen is said to have had her chamber in the
loftiest part of it ; and so wretched were their dwel-
lings, that even Penelope, queen of Ulysses, seems to
have descended from hers by a ladder.
Unmarried women, whether maids or widows, were
under the strictest confinement. The former, indeed,
were not allowed to pass without leave from one part
of the house to another, left they should be seen.
New married women were almost as strictly con-
fined as virgins. Hermione was severely reproved by
her old duenna, for appearing out of doors; a free-
dom, which, She tells her, was not usually taken by
women in her situation, and which would endanger her
reputation should she happen to be seen.
Aristophanes introduces an Athenian lady, loudly
complaining, that women were confined to their cham-
bers, under lock and key, and guarded by mastiffs,
goblins, or any thing that could frighten away admirers.
C The

14 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
The confinement, however, of the Grecian women,
does not appear, in some cases, to have been so much
the effect of jealousy, as of indifference. The men
did not think them proper companions; and that ig-
norance, which is the result of a recluse life, gave
them too good reason to think so. Nothing in
Greece was held in estimation, but valour and elo-
quence. Nature had disqualified the fair sex for both.
They were therefore considered as mean and contemp-
tible beings, much beneath the notice of heroes and of
orators, who seldom favoured them with their com-
pany. Thus deserted by a sex which ought to be
the source of knowledge, the understandings of the
women were but shallow, and their company uninterest-
ing; circumstances which invariably happen in every
country where the two sexes have little communication
with each other.
In perusing the Grecian history, we every where
meet with the most convincing proofs of the low
condition of their women. Homer considers Helen,
the wife of Menelaus, of little other value than as a
part of the goods which were stolen along with her ;
and the restitution of these, and of her, are commonly
mentioned in the same sentence, in such a manner, as
to shew, that such restitution would be considered as
a full reparation of the injury sustained.
The same author, in celebrating Penelope, the wife
of Ulysses, for refusing in his absence so many suitors,
does not appear to place the merit of her conduct, in
a superior regard to chastity, or in love to her hus-
band ; but in preserving to his family the dowry she
had brought along with her, which, on a second mar-
riage, must have been restored to her father Icarius.
Telemachus is always represented as a most dutiful
son. But, notwithstanding this, we find him reprov-
ing his mother in a manner which shews that the
sex, in general, were not treated with softness and
delicacy,

OF THE FAIR SEX. l5
delicacy, however dignified, or with whatever autho-
rity invested.
" Your widowed hours, apart, with female toil,
" And various labours of the loom, beguile.
" There rule, from palace cares remote and free ;
" That care to man belongs, and most to me."
If we take a view of the privileges bestowed by
law or custom on the Grecian women, we Shall find,
that, in the earlier ages, they were allowed a vote in
the public assemblies. This privilege, however, was
afterwards taken from them. They succeeded equally
with brothers to the inheritance of their fathers; and
to the whole of that inheritance, if they had no bro-
thers. But to this last privilege was always annexed
a circumstance, which must have been extremely dis-
agreeable to every woman of sentiment and feeling.
An heiress was obliged, by the laws of Greece, to
marry her nearest relation, that the estate might not
go out of the family ; and this relation, in case of a
refusal, had a right to sue for the delivery of her per-
son, as we do for goods and chattels.
He who divorced his wife was obliged either to re-
turn her dowry, or pay her so much per month, by
way of maintenance. He who ravished a free woman
was obliged in some states, to marry her, in others to
pay a hundred, and in others again, a thousand
drachmas.
But, when we impartially consider the good and ill
treatment of the Grecian women, we find that the
balance was much against them, and may therefore
conclude, that, though the Greeks were eminent in
arts, and illustrious in arms; yet, in politeness and
elegance of manners, the highest pitch to which they
ever arrived, was only a few degrees above savage
barbarity.
In 

16 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
In the different æras of Grecian history, however,
we must not suppose that the women were always the
same. It appears that the manners in the isles of
Greece, in general, were much purer than on the
continent. Those islanders, by being less exposed to
foreign intercourse, could more easily preserve their
laws and their virtues. The warlike convents of La-
cedemon, the nurseries only of soldiers, would be much
more rigid than the smiling retreats of Athens, whence
politeness was propagated, and fashion announced ;
and the city of Thebes, where a rustic grossness sup-
plied the place of an elegant luxury, must have been
very different from Corinth, which, on account of
its situation and commerce, obtained the name of
" The Two Seas of Wealth and pleasure."
CHAP. VII.
OF THE GRECIAN COURTEZANS.
THE rank which the courtezans enjoyed, even
in the brightest ages of Greece, and particulaly
at Athens, is one of the greatest singularities in the
manners of any people. By what circumstances could
that order of women, who debase at once their own
sex and ours--in a country, where the women were
possessed of modesty, and the men of sentiment, ar-
rive at distinction, and sometimes even at the highest
degree of reputation and consequence?--Several rea-
sons may be assigned for that phenomenon in society.
In Greece, the courtezans were in some measure
connected with the religion of the country. The
goddess of Beauty hid her altars; and she was sup-
posed to protect prostitution, which was to her a spe-
cies 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 17
cies of worship. The people invoked Venus in times
of danger ; and, after a battle, they thought they had
done honour to Miltiades and Themistocles, because
the Laises and the Glyceras of the age had chaunted
hymns to their goddess.
The courtezans were likewise connected with reli-
gion, by means of the arts. Their persons afforded
models for statues, which were afterwards adored in
the temples. Phrine served as a model to Praxiteles,
for his Venus of Cnidus. During the feasts of Nep-
tune, near Eleusis, Apelles having seen the same
courtezan on the sea-shore, without any other veil than
her loose and flowing hair, was so much struck with
her appearance, that he borrowed from it the idea of
his Venus rising from the waves.
They were, therefore, connected with statuary and
painting, as they furnished the practisers of those arts
with the means of embellishing their works.
The greater part of them were skilled in music ;
and, as that art was attended with higher effects in
Greece, than it has ever been in any other country, it
must have possessed, in their hands, an irresistible
charm.
Every one knows how enthusiastic the Greeks
were of beauty, They adored it in the temples.
They admired it in the principal works of art. They
studied it in the exercises and the games. They
thought to perfect it by their marriages. They
offered rewards to it at the public festivals. But
virtuous beauty was seldom to be seen. The modest
women were confined to their own apartments, and
were visited only by their husbands and nearest rela-
tions. The courtezans offered themselves every where
to view; and their beauty, as might be expected, ob-
tained universal homage.
Society only can unfold the beauties of the mind.
Modest women were excluded from it. The cour-
C 2 tezans 

18 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
tezans of Athens, by living in public, and conversing
freely with all ranks of people, upon all manner of
subjects, acquired by degrees a knowledge of history,
of philosophy, of policy, and a taste in the whole
circle of the arts. Their ideas were more extensive
and various, and their conversation was more sprightly
said entertaining, than any thing that was to be found
among the virtuous part of the sex. Hence their
houses became the schools of elegance. The poets
and the painters went there to catch the fleeting
forms of grace, and the changeable features of ridi-
cule ; the musicians, to perfect the delicacy of har-
mony ; and the philosophers, to collect those particu-
lars of human life, which had hitherto escaped their
observation.
The house of Aspasia was the resort of Socrates
and Pericles, as that of Ninon was of St. Evremont
and Condé. They acquired from those fair libertines
taste and politeness, and they gave them in exchange
knowledge and reputation.
Greece was governed by eloquent men ; and the
celebrated courtezans, having an influence over those
orators, must have had an influence on public affairs.
There was not one, not even the thundering, the
inflexible Demosthenes, so terrible to tyrants, but was
subjected to their sway. Of that great master of elo-
quence it has been said, " What he had been a whole
" year in erecting, a woman overturned in a day."
That influence augmented their consequence; and
their talent of pleasing increased with the occasions of
exerting it.
The laws and the public institutions, indeed, by
authorizing the privacy of women, set a high value
on the sanctity of the marriage vow. But in Athens,
imagination, sentiment, luxury, the taste in arts and
pleasures, was opposite to the laws. The courtezans,
therefore, 

OF THE FAIR SEX. l9
therefore, may be said to have come in support of the
manners.
There was no check upon public licentiousness;
but private infidelity, which concerned the peace of
families, was punished as a crime. By a strange and
perhaps unequalled singularity, the men were cor-
rupted, yet the domestic manners were pure. It seems
as if the courtezans had not been considered to belong
to their sex; and, by a convention to which the
laws and the manners bended, while other women were
estimated merely by their virtues, they were estimated
only by their accomplishments.
These reasons will, in some measure, account for
the honours, which the votaries of Venus so often re-
ceived in Greece. Otherwise we should have been at
a loss to conceive, why six or seven writers had ex-
erted their talents to celebrate the courtezans of
Athens--why three great painters had uniformly
devoted their pencils to represent them on canvass-
and why so many poets had strove to immortalize
them in their verses. We should hardly have be-
lieved that so many illustrious men had courted their
society- that Aspasia had been consulted in delibe-
rations of peace and war- that Phrine had a statue
of gold placed between the statues of two kings at
Delphos- that, after death, magnificent tombs had
been erected to their memory.
" The traveller," says a greek writer, " who,
" approaching to Athens, sees on the side of the way
" a monument which attracts his notice at a distance,
" will imagine that it is the tomb of Miltiades or Pe-
" ricles, or of some other great man, who has done
" honour to his country by his services. He advances,
" he reads, and he learns that it is a courtezan of
" Athens who is interred with so much pomp."
Theopompus, in a letter to Alexander the Great,
speaks also of the same monument in words to the
following 

20 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
following effect. " Thus, after her death, is a pros-
" titute honoured ; while not one of those brave war-
" riors who fell in Asia, fighting for you and for the
" safety of Greece, has so much as a stone erected
" to his memory, or an inscription to preserve his
" ashes from insult."
Such was the homage which that enthusiastic
people, voluptuous and passionate, paid to beauty.
More guided by sentiment than by reason, and having-
laws rather than principles, they banished their great
men, honoured their courtezans, murdered Socrates,
permitted themselves to be governed by Aspasia, pre-
served inviolate the marriage-bed, and placed Phrine in
the temple of Apollo!
CHAP. VIII.
OF THE ROMAN WOMEN.
AMONG the Romans, a grave and austere peo-
ple, who, during five hundred years, were unac-
quainted with the elegancies and the pleasures of life,
and who, in the middle of furrows and fields of bat-
tle, were employed in tillage or in war, the man-
ners of the women were a long time as solemn and se-
vere as those of the men, and without the smallest
mixture of corruption, or of weakness.
The time when the Roman women began to appear
in public, marks a particular æra in history.
In the infancy of the city, and even until the con-
quest of Carthage, shut up in their houses, where a sim-
ple and rustic virtue paid every thing to instinct, and
nothing to elegance- so nearly allied to barbarism, as
only to know what it was to be wives and mothers--
chaste 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 21
chaste without apprehending they could be otherwise
-tender and affectionate, before they had learned
the meaning of the words- occupied in duties, and
ignorant that there were other pleasures; they spent
their life in retirement, in domestic œconomy, in nurs-
ing their children, and in rearing to the republic a race
of labourers, or of soldiers.
The Roman women, for many ages, were respected
over the whole world. Their victorious husbands re-
visited them with transport, at their return from battle.
They laid at their feet the spoils of the enemy, and
endeared themselves in their eyes, by the wounds
which they had received for them and for the state.
Those warriors often came from imposing commands
upon kings ; and in their own houses accounted it an
honour to obey. In vain the too rigid laws had
made them the arbiters of life and death. More pow-
erful than the laws, the women ruled their judges.
In vain the legislature, foreseeing the wants which ex-
ist only among a corrupt people, permitted divorce.
The indulgence of the polity was proscribed by the
manners.
Such was the influence of beauty at Rome, before
the licentious intercourse of the sexes had corrupted
both.
The Roman matrons do not seem to have possessed
that military courage which Plutarch has praised in
certain Greek and Barbarian women: they partook
more of the nature of their sex ; or, at least, they de-
parted less from its character. Their first quality was
decency. Every one knows the story of Cato the
censor, who stabbed a Roman senator for kissing his own
wife in the presence of his daughter.
To these austere manners, the Roman women join-
ed an enthusiastic love of their country, which dis-
covered itself upon many great occasions. On the
death of Brutus, they all clothed themselves in mourn-
ing.

22 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
ing. In the time of Coriolanus they saved the city.
That incensed warrior, who had insulted the senate
and the priests, and who was superior even to the pride
of pardoning, could not resist the tears and entreaties
of the women. They melted his obdurate heart. The
senate decreed them public thanks, ordered the men to
give place to them upon all occasions, caused an altar to
be erected for them on the spot where the mother had
softened her son, and the wife her husband; and the
sex were permitted to add another ornament to their
head-dress.
It is to be wished that our modern ladies could as-
sign as good a reason for the size of their caps.
The Roman women saved the city a second time,
when besieged by Brennus. They gave up all their
gold as its ransom. For that instance of their gene-
rosity, the senate granted them the honour of having
funeral orations pronounced from the rostrum, in com-
mon with patriots and heroes.
After the battle of Cannæ, when Rome had no other
treasures but the virtues of her citizens, the women
sacrificed both their gold and their jewels. A new
decree rewarded their zeal.
Valerius Maximus, who lived in the reign of Ti-
berius, informs us that, in the second triumvirate, the
three assassins who governed Rome, thirsting after
gold, no less than blood, and having already practised
every species of robbery, and worn out every me-
thod of plunder, resolved to tax the women. They im-
posed a heavy contribution upon each of them. The
women sought an orator to defend their cause, but
found none. Nobody would reason against those who
had the power of life and death. The daughter of
the celebrated Hortensius alone appeared. She re-
rived the memory of her father's abilities, and sup-
ported with intripity her own cause, and that of her
sex. The ruffians blushed, and revoked their orders.
Hortensia 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 23
Hortensia was conducted home in triumph, and had
the honour of having given, in one day, an example
of courage to men, a patern of eloquence to women,
and a lesson of humanity to tyrants.
But the æra of the talents of women at Rome is to
be found under the emperors. Society was then more
perfected by opulence, by luxury, by the use and abuse
of the arts, and by commerce. Their retirement was
then less strict; their genius, being more active, was
more exerted; their heart had new wants ; the idea
of reputation sprung up in their minds ; their leisure
increased with the division of employments.
During upwards of six hundred years, the virtues
had been found sufficicnt to please. They now found
it necessary to call in the accomplishments. They were
desirous to join admiration to esteem, till they learn-
ed to exceed esteem itself. For, in all countries, in
proportion as the love of virtue diminishes, we find
the love of talents to increase.
A thousand causes concurred to produce this revo-
lution of manners among the Romans. The vast
inequality of ranks, the enormous fortunes of indi-
viduals the ridicule affixed by the imperial court to
moral ideas, all contributed to hasten the period of
corruption.
There were still, however, some great and virtuous
characters among the Roman women. Portia, the
daughter of Cato, and wife of Brutus, in the con-
spiracy against Cæsar, shewed herself worthy to be
associated with the first of human kind, and trusted
with the fate of empires. After the battle of Philippi,
she would neither survive liberty nor Brutus, but died
with the bold intrepidity of Cato.
The example of Portia was followed by that of
Arria, who seeing her husband hisitating, and afraid
to die, in order to encourage him, pierced her own
breast, 

24 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
breast, and delivered to him the dagger with a
smile.
The name of Arria's hufband was Pætus. The
manner of their death has furnished Martial with the
subject of an elegant epigram, which may be thus
paraphrased:
" When to her husband Arria gave the sword,
" Which from her chaste, her bleading breast she drew;
" She said, My Pætus, this I do not fear ;
" But, oh ! the wound that must be made by you !
" She could no more- but on her Pætus still
" She fixed her feeble, her expiring eyes;
" And when she saw him raise the pointed steel,
" She sunk, and seem'd to say, Now Arria dies!"
Paulinia too, the wife of Seneca, caused her veins
to be opened at the same time with her husband's ; but
being forced to live, during the few years which she
survived him " she bore in her countenance," says
Tacitus, " the honourable testimony of her love, a
" paleness, which proved that part of her blood had
" sympathetically issued with the blood of her
" spouse."
The same exalted virtues were displayed, though in
a different manner, by Agrippina, the wife of Ger-
manicus; who, naturally haughty and sensible, after
the death of that great man, buried herself in re-
tirement in all the bloom of youth ; and who, nei-
ther bending her stateliness under Tiberius, nor allow-
ing herself to be corrupted by the manners of her age-
as implacable in her hatred to the tyrant, as she had
been faithful to her husband- spent her life in lament-
ing the one, and in detesting the other. Nor should
the celebrated Epiniana be forgot, whom Vespasian
ought to have admired, but whom he so basely put
to death.
To 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 25
To take notice of all the celebrated women of the
empire, would much exceed the bounds of the present
undertaking. But the empress Julia, the wife of
Septimius Severus, possessed a species of merit so very
different from any of those already mentioned, as to
claim particular attention.
This lady was born in Syria, and the daughter of a
priest of the Sun. It was predicted that she should
rise to sovereign dignity ; and her character justified
the prophecy.
Julia, while on the throne, loved, or pretended
passionately to love, letters. Either from taste, from
a desire to instruct herself, from a love of renown, or
possibly from all these together, she spent her life
with philosophers. Her rank of empress would not,
perhaps, have been sufficient to subdue those bold
spirits; but she joined to that the more powerful
influences of wit and beauty. These three kinds of
empire rendered less necessary to her that which con-
sists only in art; and which, attentive to their tastes
and their weaknesses, governs great minds by little
means.
It is said that she was a philosopher. Her phi-
losophy, however, did not extend so far as to give
chastity to her manners. Her husband, who did not
love her, valued her understanding so much, that he
consulted her upon all occasions. She governed in the
same manner under his son.
Julia was, in short, an empress and a politician,
occupied at the same time about literature and affairs of
state, while she mingled her pleasures freely with both.
She had courtiers for her lovers, scholars for her friends,
and philosophers for her counsellors. In the midst of
a society, where she reigned and was instructed, Julia
arrived at the highest celebrity ; but as, among all
her excellencies, we find not those of her sex, the
virtues of a woman, our admiration is lost in blame.
D In 

26 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
In her life-time she obtained more praise than respect;
and posterity, while it has done justice to her talents
and her accomplishments, has agreed to deny her
esteem.
At last, in following the course of history, the fa-
mous Zenobia presents herself: she was worthy to
have been a pupil of Longinus ; for she knew how to
write, as well as how to conquer. When she was
afterward unfortunate, she was so with dignity. She
consoled herself for the loss of a throne, and the plea-
sures of grandeur, with the sweets of solitude and
the joys of reason.
CHAP. IX.
LAWS AND CUSTOMS RESPECTING THE ROMAN
WOMEN.
THE Roman women, as well as the Grecian,
were under perpetual guardianship ; and were
not at any age, nor in any condition, ever trusted
with the management of their own fortunes.
Every father had a power of life and death over
his own daughters: but this power was not restricted
to daughters only; it extended also to sons.
The Oppian law prohibited women from having
more than half an ounce of gold employed in orna-
menting their persons, from wearing clothes of divers
colours, and from riding in chariots, either in the
city, or a thousand paces round it.
They were strictly forbid to use wine, or even to
have in their possession the key of any place where it
was kept. For either of these faults they were liable
to be divorced by their husbands. So careful were the
Romans 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 27
Romans in restraining their women from wine, that
they are supposed to have first introduced the custom
of saluting their female relations and acquaintances, on
entering into the house of a friend or neighbour, that
they might discover by their breath, whether they had
tasted any of that liquor.
This strictness, however, began in time to be re-
laxed ; until at last, luxury becoming too strong for
every law, the women indulged themselves in equal
liberties with the men.
But such was not the case in the earlier ages of
Rome. Romulus even permitted husbands to kill
their wives, if they found them drinking wine. And,
if we may believe Valerius Maximus, Egnatius Metel-
lus, having detected his wife drinking out of a cask,
actually made use of this permission, and was acquitted
by Romulus.
Fabius Pictor relates, that the parents of a Roman
lady, having detected her picking the lock of a chest
which contained some wine, shut her up and starved
her to death.
Women were liable to be divorced by their husbands
almost at pleasure, provided the portion was returned
which they had brought along with them. They
were also liable to be divorced for barrenness, which,
if it could be construed into a fault, was at least the
fault of nature, and might sometimes be that of the
husband.
A few sumptuary laws, a subordination to the
men, and a total want of authority, do not so much
affect the sex, as to be coldly and indelicately treated
by their husbands.
Such a treatment is touching them in the tender-
est part. Such, however, we have reason to believe,
they often met with from the Romans, who had not
yet learned, as in modern times, to blend the rigidity
of the patriot, and roughness of the warrior, with that
soft 

28 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
soft and indulging behaviour, so conspicuous in our
modern patriots and heroes.
Husbands among the Romans not only themselves
behaved roughly to their wives, but even sometimes
permitted their servants and slaves to do the same.
The principal eunuch of Justinian the Second threat-
ened to chastise the empress, his master's wife, in the
manner that children are chastised at school, if she did
not obey his orders.
With regard to the private diversions of the Roman
ladies, history is silent. Their public ones were such
as were common to both sexes ; as bathing, theatrical
representations, horse-races, shows of wild beasts, which
fought against one another, and sometimes against
men, whom the emperors, in the plenitude of their
despotic power, ordered to engage them.
The Romans, of both sexes, spent a great deal of
time at the baths ; which at first, perhaps, were in-
terwoven with their religion, but at last were only
considered as refinements in luxury. They were
places of public resort, where all the news of the times
were to be heard, where people met with their ac-
quaintances and friends, where public libraries were
kept for such as chose to read, and where poets re-
cited their works to such as had patience to hear.
In the earlier periods of Rome, separate baths were
appropriated to each sex. Luxury by degrees get-
ting the better of decency, the men and women at
last bathed promiscuously together. Though this
indecent manner of bathing was prohibited by the
emperor Adrian; yet, in a short time, inclination
overcame the prohibition ; and, in spite of every effort,
promiscuous bathing continued until the time of Con-
stantine, who, by the coercive force of the legislative
authority, and the rewards and terrors of the Christian
religion, put a final stop to it.
CHAP. 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 29
CHAP. X.
OF THE EFFECTS OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE MAN-
NERS OF WOMEN.
PHILOSOPHY had no fixed principles for wo-
men. The religion of antiquity was only a kind
of sacred policy, which had rather ceremonies than
precepts. The ancients honoured their gods as we
honour our great men: they offered them incense,
and expected their protection in exchange. The
gods were their guardians, not their legislators.
Christianity on the other hand, was a legislation :
it imposed laws for the regulation of manners ; it
strengthened the marriage knot ; to the political it
added a sacred tie, and placed the matrimonial en-
gagements under the jurisdiction of Heaven.
Not satisfied with regulating the actions, Christianity
extended its empire even to the thoughts. Above all,
it combated the senses. It waged war even with
such inanimate objects as might be the objects of
seduction, or were the means of seduction. In a
word, rousing vice in her secret cell, it made her be-
come her own tormentor.
The legislation of the Greeks and Romans referred
the motive of every action to the political interest of
society. But the new and sacred legislation, inspir-
ing only contempt for this world, referred all things
to a future and very different state of existence.
The detachment of the senses, the reign of the
soul, and an inexpressibly sublime and supernatural
something, which blended itself with both, became
the doctrine of a body of people. Hence the vow
of continence, and the consecration of celibacy.
D 2 Life

30 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Life was a combat. The sanctity of the manners
threw a veil over nature and over society ; Beauty
was afraid to please ; Valour dropt his spear; the
passions were taught to submit; the severity of the
soul increased every day, by the sacrifices of the
senses.
The women, who generally possess a lively imagi-
nation, and a warm heart, devoted themselves to vir-
tues, which were as flattering as they were difficult,
and no less elevated than austere.
The disciples of christianity were taught to love
and comfort one another, like children of the same
family. In consequence of this doctrine, the more
tender sex, converting to pity the sensibility of nature ;
devoted their lives to the service of indigence and
distress. Delicacy learned to overcome disgust. The
tears of pity were seen to flow in the huts of misery,
and in the cells of disease, with the friendly sympathy
of a sister.
The persecutions which arose in the empire, soon
after the introduction of christianity, afforded that re-
ligion a new opportunity of discovering its efficacy.
To preserve the faith, it was often necessary to suffer
imprisonment, banishment, and death. Courage then
became necessary.
There is a deliberate courage, which is the result
of reason, and which is equally bold and calm : it is
the courage of philosophers and of heroes. There is
a courage which springs from the imagination, which
is ardent and precipitate ; such is most commonly the
courage of martyrs, or religious courage.
The courage of the Christian women was founded
upon the noblest motives. Animated by the glorious
hope of immortality, they embraced flames and gib-
bets, and offered their delicate and feeble bodies to the
most excruciating tortures.
This

OF THE FAIR SEX. 31
This revolution in the ideas, and in the manners,
was followed by another in the writings. Such as
made women their subject became as austere and
seraphic as they.
Almost all the doctors of those times, railed by the
church both to the rank of orators and of saints,
emulated each other in praising the Christian women.
But he who speaks of them with most eloquence and
with most zeal, is Saint Jerom ; who, born with a soul
of fire, spent twenty-four years, in writing, in com-
bating, and in conquering himself.
The manners of this saint were probably more se-
vere than his thoughts. He had a number of illuf-
trious women at Rome among his disciples. Thus
surrounded with beauty, though he escaped weakness,
yet he was not able to escape calumny. At last, flying
from the world, from women, and from himself, he
retired to Palestine ; where all that he had fled from
still pursued him, tormented him under the peni-
tential sackcloth, and, in the middle of solitary deserts,
re-echoed in his ears the tumult of Rome.
 Such was Saint Jerom, the most eloquent panegyrist
of the Christian women of the fourth century. That
warm and pious writer, though generally harsh and
obscure, softens his style, in a thousand places, to praise
a great number of Roman women, who, at the Capitol,
had embraced christianity, and studied in Rome the
language of the Hebrews, that they might read and
understand the books of Moses.
CHAP. 

32 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. XI.
OF WOMEN IN SAVAGE LIFE.
MAN, in a state of barbarity, equally cruel and
indolent, active by necessity, but naturally
inclined to repose, is acquainted with little more than
the physical effects of love; and, having none of those
moral ideas which only can soften the empire of
force, he is led to consider it as his supreme law, sub-
jecting to his despotism those whom reason had made
his equals, but whose imbicillity betrayed them to his
strength.
Cast in the lap of naked nature, and exposed to
every hardship, the forms of women, in savage life, are
but little engaging. With nothing that deserves the
name of culture, their latent qualities, if they have
any, are like the diamond, while inclosed in the rough
flint, incapable of shewing any lustre. Thus destitute
of every thing by which they can excite love, or ac-
quire esteem ; destitute of beauty to charm, or art to
soothe, the tyrant man; they are by him destined to
perform every mean and servile office. In this the
American and other savage women differ widely from
those of Asia, who, if they are destitute of the quali-
fications necessary for gaining esteem, have beauty,
ornaments, and the art of exciting love.
In civilized countries a woman acquires some power
by being the mother of a numerous family, who obey
her maternal authority, and defend her honour and her
life. But, even as a mother, a female savage has not
much advantage. Her children, daily accustomed to
see their father treat her nearly as a slave, soon begin
to imitate his example, and either pay little regard to
her authority, or shake it off altogether.
Of 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 33
Of this the Hottentot boys afford a remarkable
proof. They are brought up by the women, till they
are about fourteen years of age. Then, with several
ceremonies, they are initiated into the society of the
men. After this initiation is over, it is reckoned
manly for a boy to take the earliest opportunity of
returning to the hut of his mother, and beating her in
the most barbarous manner, to shew that he is now out
of her jurisdiction. Should the mother complain to
the men, they would only applaud the boy, for shew-
ing so laudable a contempt for the society and authority
of women.
"Nothing," says Professor Millar, speaking of the
women of barbarous nations, " can exceed the de-
" pendance and subjection in which they are kept, or
" the toil and drudgery which they are obliged to
" undergo. The husband, when he is not engaged
" in some warlike exercise, indulges himself in idle-
" ness, and devolves upon his wife the whole burden
" of his domestic affairs. He disdains to assist her in
" any of those servile employments. She sleeps in a
" different bed, and is seldom permitted to have any
" conversation or correspondence with him."
In the Brazils, the females are obliged to follow
their husbands to war, to supply the place of beasts of
burden, and to carry on their backs their children, pro-
visions, hammocks, and every thing wanted in the
field.
In the Isthmus of Darien, they are sent along with
warriors and travellers, as we do baggage horses.
Even their Queen appeared before some English gen-
tlemen, carrying her sucking child wrapt in a red
blanket.
The women among the Indians of America are
what the Helots were among the Spartans, a vanquished
people obliged to toil for their conquerors. Hence
on the banks of the Oroonoko we have heard of
mothers

34 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
mothers slaying their daughters out of compassion, and
smothering them in the hour of their birth. They
consider this barbarous pity as a virtue.
Father Joseph Gumilla, reproving one of them for
this inhuman crime, received the following answer:-
" I wish to God, Father, I wish to God, that my
" mother had, by my death, prevented the manifold
" distresses I have endured, and have yet to endure as
" long as I live. Had she kindly stifled me in my
" birth, I should not have felt the pain of death, nor
" the numberless other pains to which life has subject-
" ed me. Consider, Father, our deplorable condi-
" tion. Our husbands go to hunt with their bows
" and arrows, and trouble themselves no farther: we
" are dragged along with one infant at our breast, and
" another in a basket. They return in the evening
" without any burden : we return with the burden
" of our children. Though tired with long walking,
" we are not allowed to sleep, but must labour the
" whole night, in grinding maize to make chica for
" them. They get drunk, and in their drunkenness
" beat us, draw us by the hair of the head, and tread
" us under foot. What then have we to comfort us
" for slavery, perhaps of twenty years?- A young
" wife is brought upon us and permitted to abuse us
" and our children. Can human nature endure such
" tyranny? What kindness can we shew to our
" female children, equal to that of relieving them from
" such servitude, more bitter a thousand times than
" death ? I repeat again, would to God my mother
" had put me under ground, the moment I was
" born."
If the great outlines of this complaint be true, they ,
fully evince the deplorable condition of savage women ;
and that they are probable, similar instances among
barbarous nations will not permit us to doubt.
" The 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 35
" The men," says Commodore Byron, In his ac-
count of the inhabitants of South America, " exercise
" a most despotic authority over their wives, whom
" they consider in the same view they do any other
" part of their property, and dispose of them accord-
" ingly. Even their common treatment of them is
" cruel. For, though the toil and hazard of pro-
" curing food lies entirely on the women, yet they are
" not suffered to touch any part of it, until the hus-
" band is satisfied ; and then he assigns them their
" portion, which is generally very scanty, and such a
" he has not a stomach for himself."
The Greenlanders, who live mostly upon seals,
think it sufficient to catch and bring them on shore ;
and would almost rather submit to Starve, than assist
their women in skinning, dressing, or dragging the
cumbrous animals home to their huts.
In some parts of America, when the men kill any
game in the woods, they lay it at the root of a tree,
fix a mark there, and travelling until they arrive at
their habitation, send their women to fetch it; a task
which their own laziness and pride equally forbid.
Among many of the tribes of wandering Arabs,
the women are not only obliged to do every domestic
and every rural work, but also to feed, to dress, and
saddle the horses, for the use of their husbands.
The Moorish women, besides doing all the same
kinds of drudgery, are also obliged to cultivate the
fields, while their husbands stand idle spectators of
the toil, or sleep inglorious beneath a neighbouring
shade.
 In Madura the husband generally speaks to his
wife in the most imperious tone ; while she with fear
and trembling approaches him, waits upon him while
at meals, and pronounces not his name, but with the
addition of every dignifying title she can devise. In
return for all this submission, he frequently beats and
abuses 

36 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
abuses her in the most barbarous manner. Being
asked the reason of such a behaviour, one of them an-
swered, " As our wives are so much our inferiors,
" why should we allow them to eat and drink with
" us ? Why should they not serve us with whatever
" we call for, and afterwards sit down and eat up
" what we leave ? If they commit faults, why should
" they not suffer correction ? It is their business only
" to bring up our children, pound our rice, make our
" oil, and do every other kind of drudgery, purposes
" to which only their low and inferior natures are
" adapted."
In Several parts of America women are not suffered
to enter into their temples, or join in their religious
assemblies. In the houses where the chiefs meet to
consult on the affairs of state, they are only permitted to
enter and seat themselves on the floor on each side of
the passage.
The Circassian custom of breeding young girls, on
purpose to be sold in the public market to the highest
bidder, is generally known. Perhaps, however, upon
minute examination, we shall find that women are, in
some degree, bought and sold in every country, whether
savage or civilized.
The following remark may very properly conclude
this chapter. As, among savages, we almost con-
stantly find women condemned to every species of
slavish drudgery ; so we as constantly find them emerg-
ing from this state, in the same proportion as we find
the men emerging from ignorance and brutality. The
rank, therefore, and condition in which we find wo-
men in any country, mark out to us with the greatest
precision the exact point in the scale of civil society,
to which the people of such country have arrived.
And, indeed, were their history silent on every other
subject, and only mentioned the manner in which they
treated 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 37
treated their women, we should from thence be ena-
bled to form a tolerable judgment of the barbarity or
culture of their manners.
CHAP. XII.
OF THE EASTERN WOMEN.
THE women of the East have, in general, always
exhibited the same appearance. Their manners,
customs, and fashions, unalterable like their rocks, have
stood the test of many revolving ages. Though the
kingdoms of their country have often changed masters,
though they have submitted to the arms of almost eve-
ry invader, yet the laws by which their sex are go-
verned and enslaved have never been revised nor
amended.
Had the manners and customs of the Asiatic women
been subject to the same changes as they are in Eu-
rope, we might have expected the same changes in the
sentiments and writings of their men. But, as this is
not the case, we have reason to presume that the sen-
timents entertained by Solomon, by the apocryphal
writers, and by the ancient Bramins, are the sen-
timents of this day.
Though the confinement of women be an unlawful
exertion of superior power, yet it affords a proof that
the inhabitants of the East are advanced some de-
grees farther in civilization than mere savages, who
have hardly any love, and consequently as little jea-
lousy.
This confinement is not very rigid in the empire
of the Mogul. It is, perhaps, less so in China, and
in Japan hardly exists.
E Though 

38 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Though women are confined in the Turkish empire,
they experience every other indulgence. They are
allowed, at stated times, to go to the public baths;
their apartments are richly, if not elegantly furnished;
they have a train of female slaves to serve and amuse
them ; and their persons are adorned with every costly
ornament which their fathers or husbands can afford.
Notwithstanding the strictness of confinement in
Persia, their women are treated with several indul-
gences. They are allowed a variety of precious li-
quors, of costly perfumes, and beautiful slaves; their
apartments are furnished with the most elegant hang-
ings and carpets; their persons ornamented with the
finest silks, and even loaded with the sparkling jewels
of the East. But all these trappings, however elegant,
or however gilded, are only like the golden chains
sometimes made use of to bind a royal prisoner.
Solomon had a great number of queens and con-
cubines ; but a petty Hindoo chief has been known to
have two thousand women confined within the walls of
his harem, and appropriated entirely to his pleasure.
Nothing less than unlimited power in the husband is
able to restrain women so confined, from the utmost
disorder and confusion. They may repine in secret,
but they must clothe their features with cheerfulness
when their lord appears. Contumacy draws down on
them immediate punishment : they are degraded,
chastised, divorced, shut up in dark dungeons, and
sometimes put to death.
Their persons, however, are so sacred, that they must
not in the least be violated, nor even looked at, by any
one but their husbands. This female privilege has given
an opportunity of executing many conspiracies. War-
riors, in such vehicles as are usually employed to carry
women, have been often conveyed, without examina-
tion, into the apartments of the great; from whence,
instead of issuing forth in the smiles of beauty, they
have 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 39
have rushed out in the terror of arms, and laid the
tyrants at their feet.
No stranger is ever allowed to see the women of
Hindostan, nor can even brothers visit their sisters in
private. To be conscious of the existence of a man's
wives seems a crime ; and he looks surly and offended,
if their health is enquired after. In every country,
honour consists in something upon which the possessor
sets the highest value. This, with the Hindoo, is
the chastity of his wives ; a point without which he
must not live.
In the midst of slaughter and devastation, through-
out all the East, the harem is a sanctuary. Ruffians,
covered with the blood of a husband, shrink back with
veneration from the secret apartment of his wives.
At Constantinople, when the sultan sends an order
to strangle a state-criminal, and seize on his effects,
the officers who execute it enter not into the harem,
nor touch any thing belonging to the women.
Mr. Pope is very far from doing justice to the fair
sex, when he says-
" Most women have no character at all."
The character, however, of the Asiatic ladies cannot
be easily ascertained. The narrow and limited sphere
in which they move, almost entirely divests them of
every characteristic distinction which arises from
liberty and society. Shut up for ever in impenetrable
harems, they can hardly be called creatures of the
world, having no intercourse with it, and no use for
the social and œcconomical virtues which adorn its
citizens. Frugality and industry are entirely out of
their power. To the joys of friendship they are,
perhaps, entire strangers. The men treat them in
such a manner, that it is impossible they can esteem
them. The women are their constant rivals. As
they 

40 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
they are not allowed to attend public worship, they
can have no other religion than the silent adoration of
the heart. With respect to chastity, the manner in
which they are disposed of to their husbands, and the
treatment they meet with from them, are the most
unlikely methods in the world to make them famous
for that virtue.
Those females who are the least exposed to feel
the oppressive effects of despotism, employ themselves
in a manner well adapted to the sex. To the women
of Hindostan we owe a great part of those works of
taste, so elegantly executed on the manufactures of the
East; the beautiful colourings and exquisite design-
ings of their printed cottons; all the embroidery, and
a part of that filligree work, which so much exceeds
any thing in Europe. The deficiency of taste, there-
fore, with which we so commonly charge them, does
not seem to be so much a defect of nature, as of edu-
cation. Brought up in luxurious indolence, excluded
from all the busy scenes of life, and, like children,
provided with all those things, the acquisition of which
calls forth the powers of the mind and body, they sel-
dom have any motive to exert themselves; but, when
such a motive exists, they have often exhibited the
most convincing proofs of their ability.
Every Turkish seraglio and harem has a garden
adjoining to it, and in the middle of this garden a
large room, more or less decorated, according to the
wealth of the proprietor. Here the ladies spend most
of their time, with their attendant nymphs around
them, employed at their music, embroidery, or loom.
In these retreats, perhaps, they find more real pleasure
and enjoyment, than in the unbounded freedom of
Europe, where love, interest, and ambition so often
destroy their peace; and where Scandal, with her
envenomed shafts, too often strikes equally at guilt
and innocence.
It 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 4l
It has long been a custom among the grandees of
Asia, to entertain story-tellers of both sexes, who like
the bards of ancient Europe, divert them with tales,
and little histories, mostly on the subject of bravery
and love. These often amuse the women, and be-
guile the cheerless hours of the harem, by calling up
images to their minds, which their eyes are for ever
debarred from seeing.
All their other amusements, as well as this, are in-
dolently voluptuous. They spend a great part of
their time in lolling on silken sophas ; while a train of
female slaves, scarcely less voluptuous, attend to sing
to them, to fan them, and to rub their bodies ; an ex-
ercise which the eastern enjoy with a sort of placid
ecstasy as it promotes the circulation of their languid
blood.
They bathe themselves in rose-water, and other
bathes, prepared with the precious odours of the East.
They perfume themselves with costly essences, and
adorn their persons, that they may please the tyrant
with whom they are obliged to live.
At the court of the Mogul, women are frequently
admitted into a gallery, with a curtain before them,
through which, without being seen, they can see and
hear what passes. It has sometimes happened that
the throne has been occupied by a woman, who, never
appearing in open court, issued her imperial mandates
from behind this curtain, like an invisible being, pro-
ducing the greatest effects, while the cause of them
was wrapt in darkness and obscurity.
E 2 CHAP. 

42 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. XIII.
OF THE CHINESE WOMEN.
OF all the ether Asiatics, the Chinese have, per-
haps, the best title to modesty. Even the men
wrap themselves closely up in their garments, and
reckon it indecent to discover any more of their arms
and legs than is necessary. The women, still more
closely wrapped up, never discover a naked hand even
to their nearest relations, if they can possibly avoid it.
Every part of their dress, every part of their behaviour
is calculated to preserve decency, and inspire respect.
And, what adds the greatest lustre to their charms,
is that uncommon modesty which appears in every
look, and in every action.
Charmed, no doubt, with so engaging a deport-
ment, the men behave to them in a reciprocal manner.
And, that their virtue may not be contaminated by
the neighborhood of vice, the legislature takes care
that no prostitutes shall lodge within the walls of any
of the great cities of China.
Some however suspect whether this appearance of
modesty be anything else than the custom of the coun-
try ; and allege that, notwithstanding so much seem-
ing decency and decorum, they have their peculiar
modes of intriguing, and embrace every possible oppor-
tunity of putting them in practice ; and that, in these
intrigues, they frequently scruple not to stab the para-
mour they had invited to their arms, as the surest
method of preventing detection and less of character.
Such relations, however, are not to be found in any of
our modern travellers, whose veracity is most to be
depended on. A few, perhaps, of the most slagitious
may be guilty of such enormous crimes.
CHAP.

OF THE FAIR SEX. 43
CHAP. XIV.
OF THE WIVES OF THE INDIAN PRIESTS.
THE Bramins, or priests of India, though, like
the rest of their countrymen, they confine their
women ; yet, by treating them with lenity and indul-
gence, they secure their virtue by attaching their
hearts.
Married to each other in their infancy, they have
the greatest veneration for the nuptial tie. Their mu-
tual fondness increases with their strength ; and, in
riper years, all the glory of the wives consists in pleasing
their husbands. This duty they consider as one of the
most sacred of their holy religion, and which the gods
will not suffer them to neglect with impunity.
While the rest of the Hindoo women take every
opportunity to elude their keepers, these voluntarily
confine themselves, at least from the company and con-
versation of all strangers, and in every respect copy
that simplcity of life and manners for which their
husbands are so remarkable.
CHAP. XV.
A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE MAHOMETANS AND
DUTCH, WITH REGARD TO THEIR WOMEN.
" WOMEN have naturally most power," says
an ingenious lady *, " in those countries
" where the laws relative to them are most rigid ; and,
" wherever
*Mrs. Kindersley. 

44 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
" wherever legislators have most abridged their privi-
" leges, their power is most confessed."
If we take a slight view of the laws relative to the
sex amongst people of different characters, and the
customs which seem to throw light upon the subject,
it will appear that women have often been, and still
are, restrained, confined, and subjected to severe laws,
in proportion to the greatness of their natural power ;
and that they are, by the laws and usages, encouraged
and supported in proportion to their want of it.
Of this fact, the laws and customs of the Maho-
metans in Asia respecting women, and the laws and
manners relative to them amongst the people of Hol-
land, are a sufficient proof.
A Mahometan places his supreme delight in his
seraglio : his riches are bellowed in purchasing wo-
men to fill it; and, in proportion to his fortune,
his females are beautiful and numerous. In women
he places his chief amusement, his luxury, his present
happiness, and future reward.
But this violent fondness for the sex, divided as it
is betwixt many favourites, informs him that other
men have the same violent passions. The beauties of
his seraglio, which delight him, he knows would de-
light other men, could they obtain a fight of them.
Hence arise the strict confinement of his women, the
guards of eunuchs, and every possible bar to their be-
ing visible to other men. Hence it is, likewise, that,
when he receives any new beauty into his house, the
most profound secrecy is observed. But he does not
always confine his wives and female slaves, because he
holds them in contempt : he guards their persons, as
his most valuable treasures.
This extreme uxoriousness of the men, is what gives
the women their natural power over them ; and the
knowledge of this power has caused the men to esta-
blish 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 45
blish laws and customs, to prevent in some measure its
effects.
These laws prevent the women from having any
share in government, debar them from entering the
mosques, from holding any lands, or enjoying any for-
tunes, independent of their husbands or parents; and,
in short, give their husbands an absolute authority
over them.
In Holland, on the contrary, where the men are of
a phlegmatic disposition, devoted to gain, enemies to
luxury, prudent, selfish, and cold in their attachments
to the sex, the natural power of women must conse-
quently be small. On this account, as there is little
danger that the men will treat them with too much
kindness, or be seduced by their allurements, the laws
are calculated not to increase, but to restrain the autho-
rity of husbands ; and the magistrates find it necessary
to support the women in the privileges the laws have
given them, by great attention to their complaints
Nevertheless, in spite of the severity of the Mahometan
laws respecting women, and the lenity of the laws re-
specting them in Holland, it appears that there have
been numbers of Mahometans (even men on whom the
sate of kingdoms has depended) who have given them-
selves up to the entire direction of their female fa-
vourites ; though it does not appear that Dutch hus-
bands give up their interest through the influence of
their wives.
The manners of Mahometan women, and the man-
ners of the Dutch women, are no less different than the
laws by which they are governed; and, in both, the
difference arises from the same causes.
As a Mussulman procures wives and female slaves
for his pleasure only, nothing is expected in them but
youth and beauty, or, at most, the arts of singing and
dancing. They are too precious to be fatigued by
cares. As their business is only to make themselves 
agreeable, 

46 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
agreeable, they attire themselves in the most expensive 
dresses, practise the most becoming attitudes, and
throw their eyes with the most bewitching languish-
ment; are feeble and indolent in their youth ; and
old age, which comes upon women early in their cli-
mate, is spent in jealousy of their more youthful
rivals.
But, as a Dutch woman is expected to serve, she at-
tends to business, and neglects her person: She is
inelegant and robust; her laughs are hearty, and her
expressions coarse.
A Dutchman desires in his wife an assistant, a stew-
ard, a partner in his cares. She only expects to
be valued in proportion to her industry and œconomy :
As, therefore, the Mahometan women are examples of
the most extreme indolence; the Dutch women are re-
markable for their application to business. Thus they
become of consequence in themselves, as well as useful
in promoting the interest of their husbands, not only
by their domestic œconomy, but by their knowledge in
traffic. The wife, indeed, is very often both the
assistant and the director of her husband's affairs ; and
many unmarried women are very considerable mer-
chants.
But though many of them, by their industry and
application to business, gain a degree of consequence,
it is a consequence independent of their sex. It is not
the woman, but the merchant, who is considered.
The women of Holland are under very little re-
straint, because the Dutch are unacquainted with that
jealousy which torments a Mussulman ; and can, with-
out any uneasiness, see their wives carrying on business,
and striking bargains, with the greatest strangers.
In contrast to the mysterious secrecy with which
a female is ushered into a seraglio, the marriages of
the Dutch are proclaimed long before they take place ;
and their courtships are carried on even without that
reserve 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 47
reserve and delicacy observed in the politer nations of
Europe.
In speaking of Holland, we must be understood to
mean the bulk of the people. The few people of rank
are imitators of the French manners. Among these,
however, the national character is visible.
CHAP. XVI.
OF THE AFRICAN WOMEN.
THE Africans were formerly renowned for their
industry in cultivating the ground, for their
trade, navigation, caravans, and useful arts. At pre-
sent they are remarkable for their idleness, ignorance,
superstition, treachery, and, above all, for their law-
less methods of robbing and murdering all the other
inhabitants of the globe.
Though they still retain some sense of their infamous
character, yet they do not choose to reform. Their
priests, therefore, endeavour to justify them, by the
following story : " Noah," say they, " was no sooner
" dead, than his three sons, the first of whom was
" white, the second tawny, and the third black, having
" agreed upon dividing among them his goods and
" possessions, spent the greatest part of the day in
" Sorting them ; so that they were obliged to adjourn
" the division till the next morning. Having supped,
" and smoked a friendly pipe together, they all went
" to rest, each in his own tent. After a few hours
" sleep, the white brother got up, seized on the gold,
" silver, precious stones, and other things of the great-
" est value, loaded the best horses with them, and rode
" away to that country where his white posterity 
" have

48 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
" have been settled ever since. The tawny, awaking
" soon after, and with the same criminal intention,
" was surprised, when he came to the storehouse, to
" find that his brother had been beforehand with him.
" Upon which, he hastily secured the rest of the
" horses and camels, and loading them with the best
" carpets, clothes, and other remaining goods, directed
" his route to another part of the world, leaving be-
" hind him only a few of the coursest of the goods,
" and some provisions of little value.
" When the third, or black brother, came next
" morning, in the simplicity of his heart, to make the
" proposed division, and could neither find his bre-
" thren, nor any of the valuable commodities, he easily
" judged that they had tricked him, and were by that
" time fled beyond any possibility of a discovery.
" In this most afflicted situation, he took his pipe,
" and began to consider the most effectual means of
" retrieving his loss, and being revenged on his per-
" sidious brothers.
" After revolving a variety of schemes in his mind,
" he at last fixed upon watching every opportunity
" of making reprisals on them, and laying hold of
" and carrying away their property, as often as it
" Should fall in his way, in revenge for the loss of that
" patrimony of which they had so unjustly deprived
" him.
" Having come to this resolution, he not only con-
" tinued in the practice of it all his life, but on his
" death-bed laid the strongest injunctions on his de-
" scendants to do so, to the end of the world."
Some tribes of the Africans, however, when they
have engaged themselves in the protection of a Stran-
ger, are remarkable for fidelity. Many of them are
conspicuous for their temperance, hospitality, and se-
veral other virtues.
Their 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 49
Their women, upon the whole, are far from being
indelicate or unchaste. On the banks of the Niger,
they are tolerably industrious, have a considerable share
of vivacity, and at the same time, a female reserve,
which would do no discredit to a politer country.
They are modest, affable, and faithful; an air of
innocence appears in their looks, and in their language,
which gives a beauty to their whole deportment.
When, from the Niger, we approach toward the
East, the African women degenerate in stature, com-
plexion, sensibility, and chastity. Even their language,
like their features, and the soil they inhabit, is harsh
and disagreeable. Their pleasures resemble more the
transports of fury, than the gentle emotions communi-
cated by agreeable sensations.
Beyond the river Volta, in the country of Benin,
the women, though far from being famous for any of
the virtues, would not be disagreeable in their looks,
were it not for the abominable custom of marking
their faces with scars, for the same purposes as our
European ladies lay on paint.
Though in few respects better than savages, there is
a particular opinion all over this country, which tends
to humonize the mind. This is a firm persuasion,
that, to whatever place they remove themselves, or are
by any accident removed, they shall after death return
to their own country, which they consider as the most
delightful in the universe.
This fond delusive hope not only softens the slavery
to which they are often condemned in other countries,
but also induces them to treat such strangers as come
among them with much civility. They think they
are come there to enjoy paradise, and to receive the
reward of virtuous actions done in other countries.
F CHAP. 

50 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. XVII.
OF THE EFFECTS OF CHIVALRY ON THE CHARACTER
AND THE MANNERS OF WOMEN.
HISTORY does not afford so singular a revolu-
tion in policy and manners, as that which fol-
lowed the subversion of the Roman empire.
It is to the barbarians, who spread conflagration and
ruin, who trampled on the monuments of art, and
spurned the appendages of elegance and pleasure, that
we owe the bewitching spirit of gallantry which in
these ages of refinement, reigns in the courts of Eu-
rope. That system, which has made it a principle of
honour among us to consider the women as sovereigns;
which has partly formed our customs, our manners,
and our policy; which has exalted the human cha-
racter, by softening the empire of force ; which mingles
politeness with the use of the sword; which delights in
protecting the weak, and in conferring that impor-
tance which nature or fortune have denied - that
system was brought hither from the frozen shores of
the Baltic, and from the savage forests of the North.
The nothern nations, in general, paid a great re-
spect to women. Continually employed in hunting or
in war, they condescended only to soften their fero-
city in the presence of the fair. Their forests were
the nurseries of chivalry: beauty was there the re-
ward of valour.
A warrior, to render himself worthy of his mistress,
went in search of glory and of danger. Jealousy pro-
duced challenges. Single combats, instituted by love,
often stained with blood the woods and the borders of
the lakes; and the sword ascertained the rights of
Venus as well as of Mars.
Let 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 51
Let us not be surprised at these manners. Among
men who have made few advances in civilization, but
who are already united in large bodies, women have
naturally the greatest sway. Society is then suffi-
ciently cultivated to have introduced the ideas of pre-
ference and of choice, in the connection between the
sexes, which seem to be little regarded, if at all known,
among savages. It is however too rude to partake of
that state of effeminacy, in which the senses are en-
feebled and the affections worn out by habit.
People but little removed from barbarism, in the
perfection of their animal powers, and ignorant of all
those artificial pleasures created by the wants of po-
lished life, feel more exquisitely the pleasures of nature,
and the genuine emotions of man. They mingle even
with their love a kind of adoration to the female sex.
Several of the northern nations imagined that wo-
men could look into futurity, and that they had about
then an inconceivable something approaching to di-
vinity. Perhaps that idea was only the effect of the
sagacity common to the sex, and the advantage which
their natural address gave them over rough and simple
warriors. Perhaps, also, those barbarians, surprised at
the influence which beauty has over force, were led to
ascribe to supernatural attraction a charm which they
could not comprehend.
A belief, however, that the Deity communicates
himself more readily to women, has at one time or
other prevailed in every quarter of the earth : not
only the Germans and the Britons, but all the people
of Scandinavia, were possessed of it. Among the
Greeks, women delivered the oracles. The respect
which the Romans paid to the Sibyls is well known.
The Jews had their prophetesses. The predictions of
the Egyptian women obtained much credit at Rome,
even under the emperors. And, in the most barbarous
nations, all things that have the appearance of being
supernatural, 

52 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
supernatural, the mysteries of religion, the secrets of
physic, and the rites of magic, are in the possession of
the women.
The barbarians who over-ran Europe carried their
opinions along with their arms. A revolution in the
manner of living must therefore soon have taken place.
The climates of the north required little reserve be-
tween the sexes ; and, during the invasions from that
quarter, which continued for three or four hundred
years, it was common to see women mixed with war-
riors.
By associating with a corrupted people, who had
all the vices of former prosperity, along with those of
present adversity, the conquerors were not likely to
imbibe more severe ideas. Hence we see those sons
of the north, in softer climates, uniting the vices of
refinement to the stateliness of the warrior, and the
pride of the barbarian.
They embraced Christianity; but it rather modified
than changed their character : it mingled itself with
their customs, without altering the genius of the
people.
Thus, by degrees, were laid the foundations of new
manners, which, in modern Europe, have brought the
two sexes more on a level, by assigning to the women a
kind of sovereignty, and associating love with valour.
The true æra of chivalry was the fourteenth century.
That civil and military institution took its rise from a
train of circumstances, and the native bent of the new
inhabitants.
Shattered by the fall of the empire, Europe had
not yet arrived at any degree of consistency. After
five hundred years, nothing was fixed. From the
mixture of Christianity with the ancient customs of
the barbarians, sprung a continual discord in manners.
From the mixture of the rights of the priesthood with
those of the empire, sprung a discord in laws and
politics.

OF THE FAIR SEX. 53
politics. From the mixture of the rights of sove-
reigns with those of the nobility, sprung a discord in
government. Anarchy and confusion were the result
of so many contrasts. 
Christianity, which had now lost much of its original
influence, like a feeble curb, was still sufficient to re-
strain the weak passions, but was no longer able to
bridle the strong. It produced remorse, but could
not prevent guilt.
The people of those times made pilgrimages, and
they pillaged: they massacred, and they afterwards
did penance. Robbery and licentiousness were blend-
ed with superstition.
It was in this æra that the nobility, idle and warlike,
from a sentiment of natural equity, and that uneasiness
which follows the perpetration of violence, from the
double motive of religion and of heroism, associated
themselves together to effect, in a body, what govern-
ment had neglected, or but poorly executed.
Their object was to combat the Moors in Spain,
the Saracens in Asia, the tyrants of the castles and
strong holds in Germany and in France; to assure
the safety of travellers, as Hercules and Theseus, did
of old ; and, above all things, to defend the honour
and protect the rights of the feeble sex, against the
too frequent villany and oppression of the strong.
A noble spirit of gallantry soon mingled itself with
that institution. Every knight, in devoting himself to
danger, lifted himself under some lady as his sovereign:
it was for her that he attacked, for her that he de-
fended, for her that he mounted the walls of cities and
of castles, and for her honour that he shed his blood.
Europe was only one large field of battle, where
warriors clad in armour, and adorned with the rib-
bands and with the cyphers of their mistresses, en-
gaged in close fight to merit the favour of beauty.
F 2 Fidelity 

54 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Fidelity was then associated with courage, and love
was inseparably connected with honour.
The women, proud of their sway, and of receiving
it from the hands of virtue, became worthy of the
great actions of their lovers, and reciprocated passions
as noble as those they inspired. An ungenerous choice
debased them. The tender sentiment was never felt,
but when united with glory: and the manners breathed
an inexpressible something of pride, heroism, and ten-
derness, which was altogether astonishing.
Beauty, perhaps, never exercised so sweet or so
powerful an empire over the heart. Hence those con-
stant passions which our levity cannot comprehend,
and which our manners, our little weaknesses, our
perpetual thirst of hopes and desires, our listless anxiety
that torments us, and which tires itself in pursuit of
emotion without pleasure, and of impulse without
aim, have often turned into ridicule on our theatres, in
our conversations, and in our lives.
But it is nevertheless true, that those passions, fos-
tered by years, and roused by obstacles; where respect
kept hope at a distance ; where love, fed only by sacri-
fices, sacrificed itself unceasingly to honour- reinvigo-
rated the characters and the souls of the two sexes;
gave more energy to the one, and more elevation to
the other ; changed men into heroes ; and inspired the
women with a pride which was by no means hurtful to
virtue.
CHAP.

OF THE FAIR SEX. 55
CHAP. XVIII.
THE OPINION OF TWO MODERN AUTHORS CONCERN-
ING CHIVALRY.
THE sentiments of two late writers of high re-
putation corroberate this account of the origin
and progress of chivalry.
" The system of chivalry, when completely formed,"
says professor Ferguson, " proceeded on a marvellous
respect and veneration to the fair sex, on forms of com-
bat established, and on a supposed junction of the he-
roic and sanctified character. The formalities of the
duel, and a kind of judicial challenge, were known
among the ancient Celtic nations of Europe. The
Germans, even in their native forests, paid a kind of
devotion to the female sex. The christian religion
enjoined meekness and compassion to barbarous ages.
" These different principles, combined together,
may have served as the foundation of a system, in which
courage was directed by religion and love, and the
warlike and gentle were united together. When the
characters of the hero and the saint were mixed, the
mild spirit of Christianity, though often turned into
venom by the bigotry of opposite parties ; though it
could not always subdue the ferocity of the warrior,
nor suppress the admiration of courage and force;
may have confirmed the apprehensions of men, in
what was to be held meritorious and splendid, in the
conduct of their quarrels.
" The feudal establishments, by the high rank to
which they elevated certain families, no doubt greatly
favoured this romantic system. Not only the lusture
of a noble descent, but the stately castle beset with
battlements and towers, served to inflame the imagi-
nation, 

56 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
nation, and to create a veneration for the daughter
and the sister of gallant chiefs, whose point of honour
it was to be inaccessible and chaste ; and who could
perceive no merit but that of the high-minded and
the brave, nor be approached in any other accents than
those of gentleness and respect."
Professor Millar, in his Observations concerning the
Distinction of Ranks in Society, gives the following
sensible and pleasing account of chivalry: " From the
prevailing spirit of the times, the art of war became
the study of every one who was desirous of maintain-
ing the character of a gentleman. The youth were
early initiated in the profession of arms, and served a
sort of apprenticeship under persons of rank and ex-
perience.
" The young squire became in reality the servant
of that leader to whom he had attached himself, and
whose virtues were set before him as a mode which he
proposed to imitate.
" He was taught to perform, with ease and dex-
terity, those exercises which were either ornamental or
useful; and, at the same time, he endeavoured to ac-
quire those talents and accomplishments which were
thought suitable to his profession.
" He was taught to look upon it as his duty to check
the insolent, to restrain the oppressor, to protect the
weak and defenceless; to behave with frankness and
humanity even to an enemy, with modesty and polite-
ness to all.
" According to the proficiency which he had made,
he was proportionably advanced in rank and character.
He was honoured with new titles and marks of dis-
tinction, till at length he arrived at the dignity of
knighthood. This dignity even the greatest poten-
tates were ambitious of acquiring, as it was supposed
to distinguish a person who had obtained the most
complete military education, and who had attained to
a high 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 57
a high degree of eminence in those particular quali-
ties which were then universally admired and re-
spected.
" The situation of mankind in those periods had
also a manifest tendency to heighten and improve the
passion between the sexes.
" It was not to be expected that those opulent
chiefs, who were so often at variance, and who main-
tained a constant opposition to each other, would
allow any sort of familiarity to take place between the
members of their respective families. Retired in their
own castles, and surrounded by their numerous vassals,
they looked upon their neighbours either as inferior
to them in rank, or as enemies against whom they
were obliged to be constantly upon their guard. They
behaved to each other with that ceremonious civility
which the laws of chivalry requited ; but, at the same
time, with that reserve and caution which a regard to
their own safety made it necessary for them to observe.
" The young knight, as he marched to the tourna-
ment, saw at a distance the daughter of the chieftain by
whom the Show was exhibited ; and it was even with
difficulty that he could obtain access to her, in order
to declare the sentiments with which She had in-
spired him. He was entertained by her relations with
that cold respect which demonstrated their unwilling-
ness to contract an alliance with him. The lady her-
self was taught to assume the pride of her family, and
to think that no person was worthy of her affection,
who did not possess the most exalted rank and character.
To have given way to a hidden inclination, would
have disgraced her for ever in the opinion of all her
kindred ; and it was only by a long course of atten-
tion, and of the most respectful service, that the lover
could hope for any favour from his mistress.
" The barbarous slate of the country at that time,
and the injury to which the inhabitants, especially
those 

58 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
those of the weaker sex, were frequently exposed,
gave ample scope for the display of military talents ;
and the knight who had nothing to do at home was
encouraged to wander from place to place, and from
one court to another, in quell of adventures. Thus
he endeavoured to advance his reputation in arms,
and to recommend himself to the fair of whom he
was enamoured, by fighting with every person who
was so inconsiderate as to dispute her unrivalled beauty,
virtue, or personal accomplishments.
" As there were many persons in the same situation,
so they were naturally inspired with similar senti-
ments. Rivals to one another in military glory, they
were often competitors, as Milton expresseth it, to
win her grace whom all commend; and the same emu-
lation which disposed them to aim at pre-emince in one
respect, excited them with no less eagerness to dispute
the preference in the other. Their dispositions and
manner of thinking became fashionable, and were
gradually diffused by the force of education and ex-
ample.
" To be in love was looked upon as one of the
necessary qualifications of a knight ; and he was no
less ambitious of shewing his constancy and fidelity to
his mistress, than of displaying his military virtues.
He assumed the title of her Slave and servant. By this
he distinguished himself in every conflict in which he
was engaged ; and his success was supposed to redound
to her honour, no less than to his own. If she had
bellowed upon him a present to be worn in the field
of battle, in token of her regard, it was considered as
a sure pledge of victory, and as laying upon him the
strongest obligation to act in such manner as would
render him worthy of the favour which he had re-
ceived.
" The sincere and faithful passion, the distant sen-
timental attachment which commonly occupied the
heart 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 59
heart of every warrior, and which he possessed upon
all occasions, was naturally productive of the utmost
purity of manners, and of great respect and venerati-
on for the female sex.
" Persons who made a point of defending the re-
putation and dignity of that particular lady to whom
they were devoted, became thereby extremely cautious
and delicate, left, by any insinuation whatever, they
should hurt the character of another, and be exposed
to the just censure and resentment of those by whom
she was protected.
" A woman who deviated so far from the esta-
blished maxims of the age, as to violate the laws of
chastity, was indeed deserted by every body, and was
therefore universally condemned and insulted. But
those who adhered to the strict rules of virtue, and
maintained an unblemished reputation, were treated
like beings of a superior order."
Such was the spirit of chivalry. It gave birth to
an incredible number of performances in honour and
in praise of women. The verses of the bards, the
Italian sonnet, the plaintive romance, the poems of
chivalry, the Spanish and French romances, were so
many monuments of that kind, composed in the time
of a noble barbarism, and of a heroism, in which the
great and ridiculous were often blended.
These compositions, all once so much celebrated,
are only calculated to gratify a vain curiosity. They
may be compared to the ruins of a Gothic palace.
They have, in general, the same foundation ; and the
praises in the one are as uniform as the apartments in
the other. All the women are prodigies of beauty,
and miracles of virtue.
In the courts, in the fields of battle or of tourna-
ment, every thing breathed of women. The same
taste prevailed in letters. One did not write, one did
not think, but for them. The same man was often
both 

60 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
both poet and warrior. He sung with his lyre, and
encountered with his lance, by turns, for the beauty
that he adored.
CHAP. XIX.
OF THE GREAT ENTERPRISES OF WOMEN IN THE
TIMES OF CHIVALRY.
THE times and the manners of chivalry, by bringing
great enterprises, bold adventures, and I know
not what of extravagant heroism into fashion, inspired
the women with the same taste.
The two sexes always imitate each other. Their
manners and their minds are refined or corrupted, in-
vigorated or dissolved together.
The women, in consequence of the prevailing pas-
sion, were now seen in the middle of camps and of
armies. They quitted the soft and tender inclinati-
ons, and the delicate offices of their own sex, for
the courage, and the toilsome occupations of ours.
During the crusades, animated by the double en-
thusiasm of religion and of valour, they often perform-
ed the most romantic exploits. They obtained indul-
gences on the field of battle, and died with arms in
their hands, by the side of their lovers, or of their
husbands.
In Europe, the women attacked and defended for-
tifications. Princesses commanded their armies, and
obtained victories.
Such was the celebrated Joan de Mountfort, dis-
puting for her duchy of Bretagne, and engaging the
enemy herself.
Such 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 6l
Such was the still more celebrated Margaret of
Anjou, queen of England, and wife of Henry VI.
She was active and intrepid, a general and a soldier.
Her genius for a long time supported her feeble hus-
band, taught him to conquer, replaced him upon the
throne, twice relieved him from prison, and, though
oppressed by fortune and by rebels, she did not yield, till
she had decided in person twelve battles.
The warlik spirit among the women, consistent
with ages of barbarism, when every thing is impetuous
because nothing is fixed, and when all excess is the
excess of force, continued in Europe upwards of four
hundred years, shewing itself from time to time, and
always in the middle of convulsions, or on the eve of
great revolutions.
But there were æras and countries, in which that
spirit appeared with particular lustre. Such were the
displays, it made in the fifteenth and sixteenth cen-
turies in Hungary, and in the islands of the Archi-
pelago and the Mediterranean, when they were in-
vaded by the Turks.
Every thing conspired to animate the women of
those countries with an exalted courage : the prevail-
ing spirit of the foregoing ages ; the terror which the
name of the Turks inspired; the still more dreadful
apprehensions of an unknown enemy ; the difference
of dress, which has a stronger effect than is commonly
supposed on the imagination of a people ; the differ-
ence of religion, which produced a kind of sacred
horror; the striking difference of manners ; and,
above all, the confinement of the female sex, which
presented to the women of Europe nothing but the
frightful ideas of servitude and a master; the groans of
honour, the tears of beauty in the embrace of barba-
rism, and the double tyranny of love and pride!
The contemplation of these objects, accordingly,
roused in the hearts of the women a resolute courage to
G defend

62 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
defend themselves ; nay, sometimes even a courage of
enthusiasm, which hurled itself against the enemy.-
That courage, too, was augmented, by the promises
of a religion, which offered eternal happiness in ex-
change for the sufferings of a moment.
It is not therefore surprising, that, when three beauti-
ful women of the isle of Cyprus were led prisoners to
Selim, to be secluded in the seraglio, one of them, pre-
ferring death to such a condition, conceived the project
of setting fire to the magazine ; and, after having com-
municated her design to the rest, put it in execution.
The year following, a city of Cyprus being besieged
by the Turks, the women ran in crowds, mingled them-
selves with the soldiers, and, fighting gallantly in the
breach, were the means of saving their country.
Under Mahomet II. a girl of the isle of Lemnos,
armed with the sword and Shield of her father, who had
fallen in battle, opposed the Turks, when they had
forced a gate, and chased them to the Shore.
In Hungary the women distinguished themselves
miraculously in a number of sieges and battles against
the Turks. A woman of Transylvania, in different
engagements, is said to have killed six janissaries with
her own hand.
In the two celebrated sieges of Rhodes and Malta,
the women, seconding the zeal of the knights, disco-
vered upon all accasions the greatest intrepidity ; not
only that impetuous and temporary impulse which de-
spises death, but that cool and deliberate fortitude
which can support the continued hardships, the toils,
and the miseries of war.
CHAP. 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 63
CHAP. XX.
OTHER CURIOUS PARTICULARS CONCERNING FE-
MALES IN THOSE AGES.
WHILE Charlemagne swayed the sceptre in
France, confession was considered as so abso-
lutely necessary to salvation, that, in several cases, and
particularly at the point of death, where no priest or
man could be had, it was by the church allowed to be
made to a woman.
In the sixteenth century, it was no uncommon thing
for church-livings, the revenues of abbeys, and even of
bishoprics, to be given away with young ladies as a
portion.
Thus women exercised a kind of sacerdotal function:
and, though they did not actually officiate at the al-
tar, they enjoyed- what many of the priests themselves
would have been glad of- the emoluments of the altar,
without the drudgery of its service.
In posterior ages, women have crept still farther into
the offices of the church. The christians of Circassia
allow their nuns to administer the sacrament of baptism.
When any material difference happened between man
and man, or when one accused another of a crime, the
decision, according to an ancient custom established
by law, was to be by a single combat, or the ordeal
trial. From both which ridiculous ways of appealing
to heaven, women were exempted.
When a man had said any thing that reflected disho-
nour on a woman, or accused her of a crime, she was not
obliged to fight him to prove her innocence: the
combat would have been unequal. But she might choose
a champion to fight in her cause, or expose himself to
the horrid trial, in order to clear her reputation. Such
champions were generally selected from her lovers or
friends. 

64 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
friends. But if she fixed upon any other, so high was
the spirit of martial glory, and so eager the thirst of
defending the weak and helpless sex, that we meet with
no instance of a champion ever having refused to fight
for, or undergo whatever custom required in defence of,
the lady who had honoured him with the appointment.
To the motives already mentioned, we may add ano-
ther. He who had refused, must inevitably have been
branded with the name of coward: and, so despicable
was the condition of a coward, in those times of gene-
ral heroism, that death itself appeared the more prefer-
able choice. Nay, such was the rage of fighting for
women, that it became customary for those who could
not be honoured with the decision of their real quar-
rels, to create fictitious ones concerning them, in order
to create also a necessity of fighting.
Nor was fighting for the ladies confined to single
combatants. Crowds of gallants entered the lists
against each other. Even kings called out their sub-
jects, to shew their love to their mistresses, by cutting
the throats of their neighbours, who had not in the
least offended.
Iu the fourteenth century, when the countess of
Blois and the widow of Mountfort were at war against
each other, a conference was agreed to, on pretence of
settling a peace, but in reality to appoint a combat.-
Instead of negociating, they soon challenged each other;
and Beaumanoir, who was at the head of the Britons,
publicly declared that they fought from no other mo-
tive, than to see, by the victory, who had the fairest
mistress.
In the fifteenth century, we find an anecdote of this
kind still more extraordinary. John, duke de Bour-
bonnois, published a declaration, that he would go over
to England, with sixteen knights, and there fight it
out, in order to avoid idleness, and merit the good
graces of his mistress.
James 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 65
James IV. of Scotland having, in all tournaments,
professed himself knight to queen Anne of France, she
summoned him to prove himself her true and valorous
champion, by taking the field in her defence, against
his brother in law, Henry VIII. of England. He
obeyed the romantic mandate ; and the two nations
bled to feed the vanity of a woman.
Warriors, when ready to engage, invoked the aid of
their mistresses, as poets do that of the Muses. If they
fought valiently, it reflected honour on the Dulcineas
they adored ; but if they turned their backs on their
enemies, the poor ladies were dishonoured for ever.
Love was, at that time, the most prevailing motive
to fighting. The famous Gallon de Foix, who com-
manded the French troops at the battle of Ravenna,
took advantage of this foible of his army. He rode
from rank to rank, calling his officers by name, and even
some of his private men, recommending to them their
country, their honour, and, above all, to shew what they
could do for the love of their mistresses.
The women of those ages, the reader may imagine,
were certainly more completely happy than in any
other period of the world. This, however, was not
in reality the case.
Custom, which governs all things with the most
absolute sway, had, through a long succession of years,
given her sanction to such combats as were under-
taken, either to defend the innocence, or display the
beauty of women. Custom, therefore, either obliged
a man to fight for a woman who desired him, or
marked the refusal with infamy and disgrace. But
custom did not oblige him, in every other part of his
conduct, to behave to this woman, or to the sex in
general, with that respect and politeness which have
happily distinguished the character of more modern
times.
G 2 The

66 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
The same man who would have encountered giants,
or gigantic difficulties, " when a lady was in the
" case," had but little idea of adding to her happiness,
by supplying her with the comforts and elegancies of
life. And, had she asked him to stoop, and ease her
of a part of that domestic slavery which, almost in
every country, falls to the lot of women, he would
have thought himself quite affronted.
But besides, men had nothing else, in those ages,
than that kind of romantic gallantry to recommend
them. Ignorant of letters, arts, and sciences, and
every thing that refines human nature, they were, in
every thing where gallantry was not concerned,
rough and unpolished in their manners and behaviour.
Their time was spent in drinking, war, gallantry, and
idleness. In their hours of relaxation, they were but
little in company with their women ; and when they
were, the indelicacies of the carousal, or the cruelties
of the field, were almost the only subjects they had to
talk of
From the subversion of the Roman empire, to the
fourteenth or fifteenth century, women spent most of
their time alone. They were almost entire strangers
to the joys of social life. They seldom went abroad,
but to be spectators of such public diversions and
amusements as the fashion of the times countenanced.
Francis I. was the first monarch who introduced them
on public days to court.
Before his time, nothing was to be seen at any
of the courts of Europe, but long-bearded politicians,
plotting the destruction of the rights and liberties of
mankind ; and warriors clad in complete armour, ready
to put their plots in execution.
In the eighth century, so slavish was the condition
of women on the one hand, and so much was beauty
coveted on the other, that, for about two hundred
years, the kings of Austria were obliged to pay a tri-
bute 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 67
bute to the mores, of one hundred beautiful virgins
per annum.
In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, elegence
had scarcely any existence, and even cleanliness was
hardly considered as laudable. The use of linen was
not known; and the most delicate of the fair sex wore
woollen shifts.
In the time of Henry VIII. the peers of the realm
carried their wives behind them on horseback, when
they went to London ; and, in the same manner, took
them back to their country seats, with hoods of waxed
linen over their heads, and wrapped in mantles of cloth,
to secure them from the cold.
There was one misfortune of a singular nature, to
which women were liable in those days: they
were in perpetual danger of being accused of witch-
craft, and suffering all the cruelties and indignities of
a mob, instigated by superstition and directed by en-
thusiasm ; or of being condemned by laws, which
were at once a disgrace to humanity and to sense.
Even the bloom of youth and beauty could not secure
them from torture and from death. But when age
and wrinkles attacked a woman, if any thing un-
common happened in her neighbourhood, she was al-
most sure of atoning with her life, for a crime it was
impossible for her to commit.
CHAP. XXI.
OF THE ARABIAN WOMEN.
THE consequence of the women in Arabia was
annihilated by Mahomet. But before his time
they seem to have possessed privileges hardly inferior
to 

68 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
to those with which they are honoured in the politest
countries of Europe.
The law gave them a right to independent pro-
perty, either by inheritance, by gift, or by marriage
settlement. The wife had a regular dower, and an
annual allowance, which she might dispose of in her
life-time, or at her death.
To the fortune he received with his wife Cadhiga,
who carried on an extensive trade to Spain and Syria,
Mahomet himself was indebted for the origin of his
wealth and of his grandeur.
While his sect was increasing, the women of rank
took an active part both in civil and military affairs.
Several of them strongly opposed all his innovations.
Henda, accompanied by fifteen other ladies of dis-
tinction, contributed to his defeat at the battle of
Ohod. After his death, Ayesha, one of his widows, by
her influence and address, raised her father Abubeker
to be the successor of her husband.
But the religion which taught that women were
only mere objects of pleasure, and the maxims which
dictated that they should be guarded for that par-
ticular purpose, now becoming general, in little more
than a century they seem to have dwindled from
creatures of importance, to beings only consecrated to
dalliance and love.
Such were the consequences of Mahometism. But
no innovation that could happen in the ages in which
it was introduced, need much surprise us. The
politics of the Arabians were then regulated by no
fixed principles. Their religion had disgusted the
mind with idle articles of belief, and improbable fic-
tions. This was not the case in Arabia only : human
nature, as was before observed, seemed every where in
a state of wavering and imbicility. In Europe it en-
deavoured to blend the meek and forgiving spirit of
the religion of Jesus, with the fierce and intolerant
spirit 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 69
spirit of war and bloodshed ; and the same tender sen-
timent which bound a lover to his mistress, instigated
him, in the most savage manner, to cut the throats
of all those who openly professed either to love or
hate her.
CHAP. XXII.
ON THE LEARNING OF WOMEN.
WHEN chivalry began to decline in Europe,
it left behind it a tincture of romantic gal-
lantry in the manners, which communicated itself to
the works of imagination.
Many verses were then written, expressive of pas-
sions either real or feigned, but always respectful and
tender. In France, where the dissipated nobility spent
their life in war, love was generally painted under the
idea of conquest. In Italy, where another set of ideas
prevailed, it was always represented as an adoration or
worship.
This confusion of religion and gallantry, of plato-
nism and poetry, of the study of the languages and of
the laws, of the ancient philosophy and the modern
theology, formed the general character of the most
illustrious men of those times. The same observation
may be extended to the most celebrated women.
Never were the women so universally distinguished
for profound learning, as in this period. Perhaps, as
it followed the ages of chivalry, when several women
had disputed with men the prize of valour, being de-
sirous to establish the equality of their sex in all things,
they were ambitions to prove that they had as much
genius 

70 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
genius as courage ; and to subject, even by their ta-
lents, those over whom they reigned by their beauty.
The general spirit of this period is worthy of ob-
servation.
We might then have seen women preaching, and
mixing themselves in controversies ; women occupy-
ing the chairs of philosophy and of justice ; women
haranguing in Latin before the pope ; women writ-
ing in Greek, and Studying Hebrew. Nuns were
poetesses, and women of quality divines. And young
girls, who had studied eloquence, would, with the
sweetest countenances, and the most plaintive voices
in the world, go, and pathetically exhort the pope
and the Christian princes to declare war against the
Turks.
The religious spirit, which has animated women in
all ages, shewed itself at this time ; but it changed its
form. It had made them, by turns, martyrs, apostles,
warriors, and concluded in making them divines and
scholars.
An incredible value was still set on the study of
languages. In private families, in the convents, in
the courts, and even upon thrones, the same taste
reigned. It was but a poor qualification for a woman
to read Virgil and Cicero. The mouth of a young
Italian, Spanish, or British lady seemed adorned with
a particular grace, when she repeated some Hebrew
phrase, or thundered out some verses of Homer.
Poetry, so charming to the imagination and to
susceptible hearts, was embraced with ardour by the
women. It was a new and pleasing exertion of ta-
lents, which flattered self-love, and amused the mind.
Perhaps, too, that want which they experienced, even
without suspecting it, in a subtle philosophy, an ab-
stract theology, and an empty study of dialects and of
sounds, would make them more sensible to the charms
of 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 71
of an art, which continually feeds the imagination
with its images, and the heart with its sentiments.
I shall particularize a few of the women who
were most celebrated for their learning and talents
in that period.
In the thirteenth century, a young lady of Bologna
devoted herself to the Study of the Latin language,
and of the laws. At the age of twenty-three, she
pronounced a funeral oration in Latin in the great
church of Bologna ; and, to be admitted as an orator,
she had neither need of indulgence, on account of her
youth, nor of her sex. At the age of twenty-six, she
took the degree of a doctor of laws, and began pub-
licly to expound the Institutions of Justinian. At
the age of thirty, her great reputation raised her to
a chair, where she taught the law to a prodigious con-
course of scholars from all nations. She joined the
charms and accomplishments of a woman to all the
knowledge of a man. But such was the power of her
eloquence, that her beauty was only admired when her
tongue was silent.
In the fourteenth century, a like example was ex-
hibited in that city. In the fifteenth century, the
same prodigy appeared there a third time. And,
even at this day, in the city of Bologna, there is still
a learned chair filled with honour by a woman.
At Venice, in the course of the sixteenth century,
two celebated women attract our notice. The one *
composed successfully a great number of pieces in
verse, serious, comic, heroic, and tender ; and some
pastorals, which were much admired. The other †,
who was one of the most learned women of Italy,
wrote equally well the three languages of Homer,
Virgil, and Dante, and in verse as well as in prose.
She possessed all the philosophy of her own, and of
the
* Modesta di Pozzo di Zori.
† Cassandra Fidele. 

72 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
the preceding ages. By her graces, she even embel-
lished theology. She supported theses with the great-
est lustre. She gave public lectures at Padua. She
joined to her serious studies the elegant arts, particu-
larly music ; and softened her learning still farther by
her manners. She received homage from sovereign
pontiffs and sovereign princes ; and, that she might
be Angular in all things, she lived upwards of a century.
At Verona, Issotta Nogarolla acquired so great a
reputation by her eloquence, that kings were curious to
listen, and scholars to attend, to hear, and to see.
At Florence, a nun of the house of Strozzi dispelled
the languor and indolence of the cloister by her taste
for letters ; and, in her solitude, was known over
Italy, Germany, and France.
At Naples, Sarrochia composed a celebrated poem
upon Scandeberg ; and, in her life-time, was com-
pared to Boyardo and to Tasso.
At Rome we find Victoria Colonna, marchioness of
Pescaira, who passionately loved and successfully cul-
tivated letters. While still young, she bewailed the
loss of a husband, who was a great warrior, and passed
the remainder of her life in study and melancholy,
celebrating, in the most tender poetry, the hero whom
She loved.
During the same age, among the illustrious women
of all ages, we find every where the same character, and
the same kind of studies.
In Spain, Isabella of Rosera preached in the great
church of Barcelona, came to Rome under Paul the
Third, and converted the Jews by her eloquence.
Isabella of Cardoua understood the Latin, Greek, and
Hebrew ; and, though possessed of beauty, reputation,
and riches, had still the fancy to be a doctor, and took
her degrees in theology.
In France we see several women possessed of all
the learning of the times, particularly the dutchess of
Retz, 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 73
Retz, who under Charles IX. was celebrated even in
Italy, and who astonished the Polish nobility, when
they came to demand the duke of Anjou for their
king. They beheld with wonder, at court, a young
lady so intelligent, and who spoke the ancient lan-
guages with no less purity than grace.
In England we meet with the three Seymours,
sisters, nieces to a king, and daughters to a regent, all
celebrated for their learning, and for their elegant
Latin verse, which were translated and repeated all
over Europe.
Jane Gray, whose elevation to the throne was only
a step to the scaffold, read before her death, in Greek,
Plato's Dialogue on the immortality of the Soul.
The eldest daughter of the illustrious chancellor,
Sir Thomas More, was a wise and amiable lady, Her
learning was almost eclipsed by her virtues. She cor-
responded in Latin with the great Erasmus, who Styled
her the ornament of Briton. After she had consoled
her father in prison, had rushed through the guards
to snatch a last embrace, had obtained the liberty
of paying him funeral honours, had purchased his
head with gold-she was herself loaded with fetters for
two crimes-for having kept the head of her father as a
relic, and for having preserved his books and writings.
She appeared before her judges with intrepidity, jus-
tified herself with that eloquence which virtue bestows
on injured merit, commanded admiration and respect,
and passed the rest of her life in retirement, in melan-
choly, and in study.
We behold in Scotland, Mary Stuart, heir of that
crown, the most beautiful women of her age, and one
of the most learned, who could write and speak six
languages, who made elegant verses in French, and
who, when very young, delivered an oration in Latin
to the court of France, to prove that the study of
letters is consistent with the female character. So
H lovely 

74 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
lovely and so happy an example of the truth which She
advanced, could not fail to convince. Mary added to
her learning a delicate taste in the polite arts, parti-
cularly music, and adorned the whole with the most
feminine courtly manners.
What has since been called society was not then in-
deed so much known. Luxury, and the want of occu-
pation, had not introduced the custom of sitting five
or six hours before a glass, to invent fashions. Some
use was made of time. Hence that variety of lan-
guages, arts, and sciences, which were acquired by
women.
It is but just, however, to observe, that the vanity
of undertaking every thing is peculiar to the infancy
of letters. In childhood, all the world over-rate their
powers. It is only by measuring them that we come
to know them. The desires themselves were then more
easily satisfied than the thirst of learning. People were
more anxious to know than to think ; and the mind,
more active than extended, was unable to comprehend
the secrets, or reach the depth of the sciences.
CHAP. XXIII.
OF THE EUROPEAN WOMEN.
IN all polished nations, chastity has ever been esteem-
ed the principal ornament of the female character.
For this virtue the European ladies are very eminent.
Their conduct is influenced by a veneration for that
purity of manners and of character, so strongly incul-
cated by the precepts of the Christian religion. We
may justly assert that Europe, in general, is more fa-
mous 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 75
mous for the chastity and other good qualities of its
women, than any other part of the globe.
The virtues of modesty and chastity, however, do
not flourish most, where they are attempted to be
forced upon the women, by locks, bars, and gover-
nantes, as in Spain ; nor where unrestrained liberty
and politeness are carried to the greatest length, as in
France and Italy ; but rather where refinement is not
arrived so far, as to reckon every restraint upon incli-
nation a mark of ill-breading.
CHAP. XXIV.
OF THE FRENCH WOMEN.
THOUGH the ladies of France are not very
handsome, they are sensible and witty. To
many of them, without the least flattery, may be applied
the distich which Soppho ascribes to herself:
" Si mihi difficilis formam natura negavit,
" Ingenio formæ damna rependo meæ."
If partial nature has denied me beauty, the charms of
my mind amply make up for the deficiency.
No woman upon earth can excel, and few rival them,
in their almost native arts of pleasing all who approach
them. Add to this, an education beyond that of
most European ladies, a consummate Skill in those ac-
complishments that suit the fair sex, and the most
graceful manner of displaying that knowledge to the
utmost advantage.
Such 

76 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Such is the description that may safely be given of
the French ladies in general. But the spirit, or rather
the evil genius of gallantry, too often perverts all these
lovely qualities, and renders them subservient to very
iniquitous end.
In every country, women have always a little to do,
and a great deal to say. In France, they dictate almost
every thing that is said, and direct every thing that is
done. They are the most restless beings in the world.
To fold her hands in idleness, and impose silence on
her tongue, would be to a French woman worse than
death. The sole joy of her life is to be engaged in
the prosecution of some scheme, relating either to
fashion, ambition, or love.
Among the rich and opulent, they are entirely the
votaries of pleasure, which they pursue through all its
labyrinths, at the expense of fortune, reputation, and
health. Giddy and extravagant to the last degree,
they leave to their husbands œconomy and care, which
would only spoil their complexions, and furrow their
brows.
When we descend to tradesmen and mechanics, the
case is reversed : the wife manages every thing in the
house and Shop, while the husband lounges in the
back-Shop an idle spectator, or Struts about with his
sword and bag-wig.
Matrimony, among the French, seems to be a bar-
gain entered into by a male and female to bear the
same name, live in the same house, and pursue their se-
parate pleasures without restraint or control. And, so
religiously is this part of the bargain kept, that both
parties shape their course exactly as convenience and
inclination dictate.
There is no part of the world, however, where the
company of men of letters is more acceptable to the
fair sex than in France. This circumstance diffuses
knowledge among the women, gives an elegance and
cheerfulness 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 77
cheerfulness to the men, and renders them men of the
world as well as of learning. So great is female influ-
ence over literature, as well as over every other thing
in France, that by far the most considerable part of the
productions of the press are calculated for their ca-
pacity.
In no country does real politeness shew itself more
than in France, where the company of the women is
accessible to every man who can recommend himself
by his dress, and by his address. To affectation and
prudery the French women are equally strangers.
Easy and unaffected in their manners, their politeness
has so much the appearance of nature, that one would
almost believe no part of it to be the effect of art. An
air of Sprightliness and gaity sits perpetually on their
countenances, and their whole deportment seems to
indicate that their only business is to " strew the path
" of life with flowers." Persuasion hangs on their
lips; and, though their volubility of tongue is inde-
fatigable, so soft is their accent, so lively their ex-
pression, so various their attitudes, that they fix the at-
tention for hours together on a tale of nothing.
The Jewish doctors have a fable concerning the ety-
mology of the word Eve, which one would almost be
tempted to say is realized in the French women.
" Eve," say they, " comes from a word, which signifies
" to talk ; and she was so called, because, soon after
" the creation, there fell from heaven twelve baskets
" full of chit chat, and she picked up nine of them, while
" her husband was gathering the other three."
The wind, or the fashions which she follows, are
hardly more inconsistant than a French lady's mind.
Her sole joy is in the number of her admirers, and her
sole pride in changing them as often as possible. Over
the whole of them she exercises the most absolute
power, and they are zealously attentive even to prevent
her wishes, by performing whatever they think she has
H 2 any

78 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
any inclination to. Their time, their interest, and
activity, are wholly devoted to her will, or rather to
her caprice. Even the purse, that most inaccessible
thing about a Frenchman, must pour out its last sous,
at the call of his mistress. Should he fail in this par-
ticular, he would immediately be discarded from her
train, with the disgrace of having preferred Mercury
to Venus.
While a French woman is able to drink at the stream
of pleasure, she is generally an atheist. As her taste
for that diminishes, she becomes gradually religious;
and when she has lost it altogether, is the most bigotted
devotee.
Upon the whole, French females rather sacrifice too
much of their delicacy to wit, and of their chastity to
good-breeding. They pay too little regard to their
character, and too much to a ridiculous opinion that
fashionable people are above it. They are too much
the creatures of art, and have almost discarded nature
as much from their feelings as from their faces.
To what has been said on this subject, I shall only
add the following entertaining description of French
gallantry, and French manners.
" A Frenchman," says an ingenious writer, " piques
" himself upon being polished above the natives of
" any other country, by his conversation with the fair
" sex. In the course of this communication, with
" which he is indulged from his tender years, he
" learns, like a parrot, by rote, the whole circle of
" French compliments, which are a set of phrases,
" ridiculous even to a proverb ; and these he throws
" out indiscriminately to all women without dis-
" tinction, in the exercise of that kind of address,
" which is here distinguished by the name of gallantry.
" It is an exercise, by the repetition of which he be-
" comes very pert, very familiar, and very imperti-
" nent.
" A 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 79
" A Frenchman, in consequence of his mingling
" with the females from his infancy, not only becomes
" acquainted with all their customs and humours, but
" grows wonderfully alert in performing a thousand
" little offices, which are overlooked by other men,
" whose time has been spent in making more valuable
" acquisitions. He enters, without ceremony, a lady's
" bed-chamber, attends her at her toilette, regulates
" the distribution of her patches, and advises where to
" lay on the paint. If he visits her when She is dressed,
" and perceives the least impropriety in her coiffure,
" he insists upon adjusting it with his own hands. If
" he sees a curl, or even a single hair amiss, he pro-
" duces his comb, his scissars, and pomatum, and sets
" it to rights with the dexterity of a professed fri-
" zeur. He squires her to every place she visits,
" either on business or pleasure ; and by dedicating
" his whole time to her, renders himself necessary to
" her occasions. In short, of all the coxcombs on
" the face of the earth, a French petit-maitre is the
" most impertinent. And they are all petits-maitres,
" from the marquis who glitters in lace and embroi-
" dery, to the garcon barbiere (barber's boy) co-
" vered with meal, who struts with his hair in a long
" queue, and his hat under his arm.
" I shall only mention one custom more, which
" seems to carry human affectation to the very farthest
" verge of folly and extravagance : that is, the man-
" ner in which the faces of the ladies are primed and
" painted. It is generally supposed that part of the
" fair sex, in some other countries, make use of fard
" and vermilion for very different purposes ; namely,
" to help a bad or faded-complexion, to heighten the
" graces, or conceal the defects of nature, as well as
" the ravages of time. I shall not enquire whether it
" is just and honest to impose in this manner on man-
" kind. If it is not honest, it may be allowed to be
" artful 

80 HISTORICAL SKETCHES.
" artful and politic, and shews, at least, a desire of
" being agreeable. But to lay it on as the fashion in
" France prescribes to all the ladies of condition, who
" indeed cannot appear without this badge of distinc-
" tion, is to disguise themselves in such a manner as to
" render them odious and detestable to every specta-
" tor who has the least relish left for nature and pro-
" priety. As for the fard, or white, with which, their
" necks and shoulders are plaistered, it may be in
" some measure excusable, as their skins are naturally
" brown or sallow. But the rouge which is daubed
" on their faces, from the chin up to the eyes, without
" the least art or dexterity, not only destroys all dis-
" tinction of features, but renders the aspect really
" frightful, or at least conveys nothing but ideas of dis-
" gust and aversion. Without this horrible mask, no
" married lady is admitted at court, or in any polite
" assembly ; and it is a mark of distinction which none 
" of the lower classes dare assume."
CHAP. XXV.
OF THE ITALIAN WOMEN.
THE elegant author Dr. Goldsmith thus cha-
racterises the Italians in general :
" Could nature's bounty satisfy the breast,
" The sons of Italy were surely blest.
" Whatever fruits in different climes are found,
" That proudly rise or humbly court the ground;
" Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear,
" Whose bright succession decks the varied year;
" Whatever 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 81
" Whatever sweets salute the northern sky,
" With vernal lives that blossom but to die :
" These, here disporting, own the kindred soil,
" Nor ask luxuriance from their planter's toil;
" While sea-born gales their gelid wings expand,
" To winnow fragrance round the smiling land.
" But small the bliss that sense alone bestows,
" And sensual bliss is all the nation knows.
" In florid beauty groves and fields appear,
" Man seems the only growth that dwindles here.
" Contrasted faults through all his manners reign ;
" Though poor, luxurious ; though submissive, vain ;
" Though grave, yet trifling ; zealous, yet untrue ;
" And e'en in penance planning sins anew.
" All evils here contaminate the mind,
" That opulence departed leaves behind:
" For wealth was theirs, not far remov'd the date,
" When commerce proudly flourish'd through the state:
" At her command the palace learn'd to rise,
" Again the long-fall'n column fought the skies ;
" The canvas glow'd, beyond e'en nature warm ;
" The pregnant quarry teem'd with human form.
" Till, more unsteady than the southern gale,
" Commerce on other shores display'd her sale ;
" While nought remain'd of all that riches gave,
" But towns unmann'd, and lords without a slave ;
" And late the nation found, with fruitless skill,
" Its former strength was but plethoric ill.
" Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied
" By arts, the splended wrecks of former pride ;
" From these the feeble heart and long-fall'n mind
" An easy compensation seen to find.
" Here may be seen in bloodless pomp array'd,
" The pasteboard triumph, and the cavalcade ;
" Processions form'd for piety and love,
" A mistress or a saint in every grove."
Almost 

82 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Almost every traveller, who has visited Italy, agrees
in describing it as the most abandoned of all the coun-
tries of Europe. At Venice, at Naples, and indeed
in almost every part of Italy, women are taught from
their infancy the various arts of alluring to their
arms the young and unwary, and of obtaining from
them, while heated by love or wine, every thing that
flattery and false smiles can obtain, in these unguarded
moments.
The Italian ladies are not quite so gay and volatile
as the French, nor do they so much excite the risibility
of the spectator; but, by the softness of their language,
and their manner, they more forcibly engage the
heart. They are not so much the cameleon or the
weathercock, but have some decent degree of per-
manency in their connections, whether of love or
friendship. With regard to jealousy, they are so far
from being careless and indifferent, in that respect, as
the French are, that they often suffer it to transport
them to the most unwarrantable actions.
The Italian women are far preferable to the French
in point of exterior charmes; but thier education is,
in general, most scandalously neglected. Those ac-
complishments, which render the ladies in England and
in France so acceptable in company, are but rarely
found among the Italians, who depend chiefly on their
native subtlety and finesse, to ingratiate themselves
with such as they deem worthy of their notice.
Love, in Italy, meets with very small encouragement
from the great. That innocent, pure, and sentimental
passion, which the sanction of strictest virtue autho-
rises, is almost obliterated among them. The sordid
motives, which, to the disgrace of most nations, have
so much undue influence over them in their matrimo-
nial connections, are still much more infamously pre-
valent among the nobility and gentry of Italy.
An Italian female of birth and fortune, bred in the
prison 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 83
prison of a cloister, is brought forth, when marriageable,
to receive her sentence; and conducted like a victim
to the altar, there to be made a sacrifice to a man of
whom she hardly knows the face. Among them, we
find none of those antecedent homages of a lover, none
of those engaging proofs of attachment, which only
can secure a reciprocation. In short, no medium of
courtship intervenes, and therefore no opportunity is
given to create an affection on either side.
There exists in Italy a species of beings unknown
throughout the rest of Europe; who, though their
rise be not remotely distant, have wrought a change
in the temper and manners of the Italians, that renders
them, in some respects, a people totally different from
what they were a century ago. These beings are
well known by the name of cicisbeys, and may be con-
sidered in the light of assistants and substitutes to those
men of fashion who have entered into the matrimonial
state, and whose fair partners require more attendance
than they are willing, or than their occupations and
affairs will allow them to give. This institution ap-
pears an admirable relief to those young gentlemen,
who are afraid, from sundry motives, to venture on a
wife, and yet are unwilling to renounce the soft amuse-
ments resulting from the society of a female com-
panion.
Hence, at first sight, this employment of a cicisbey
may seem delightful to persons of a dissolute and
libertine disposition; but many a one, who sought it
with all the eagerness of inexperience, has heartily re-
gretted the day of his admission to a servitude, which
robs him of every moment of his liberty, and gives
the lady, under whose banners he has enlisted himself,
an absolute command of his person, his time, his
means, his credit, and whatever he can call his own.
An Italian women knows no reserves; and he that
pretends to her good graces must divest himself of his
will

84 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
will and passions, and make an entire sacrifice of them
to her caprice. Thus a cicisbey is a perfect slave;
and though no favours are denied him, yet the price
he pays is far beyond the value he receives, when we
reflect that he barters for it the peace of his mind,
and the prosperity of his circumstances; as it very
often happens that advancements in life are retarded,
and sometimes totally frustrated, through the impedi-
ments thrown in the way of activity by the attentions
a lady insists upon from him, who, by the fatal office
he has accepted, has bound himself to perpetual sla-
very.
But if such a connection, viewed only in a light
of pleasure and gallantry, is so very far from answering
the expectations even of the man of mere pleasure,
it still displays a more shocking picture, when we
examine it according to the rules of morality, as it
radically destroys the very first principles on which
the reciprocal happiness of the sexes is founded, by in-
troducing into the wedded state a mutual indifference
or contempt.
CHAP. XXVI.
OF THE SPANISH WOMEN.
AS the Spanish ladies are under a greater seclusion
from general society, than the sex is in other
European countries, their desires of an adequate de-
gree of liberty are consequently more strong and
urgent. A free and open communication being de-
nied them, they make it their business to secure them-
selves a secret and hidden one. Hence it is that
Spain is the country of intrigue. 
The

OF THE FAIR SEX. 85
The Spanish women are little or nothing indebted
to education. But nature has liberally supplied them
with a fund of wit and sprightliness, which is certainly
no small inducement to those, who have only transient
glimpses of their charmes, to wish very earnestly for a
removal of those impediments, that obstruct their more
frequent presence. This not being attainable in a lawful
way of customary intercourse, the natural propensity
of men to overcome difficulties of this kind, incites
them to leave no expedient untried to gain admittance
to what perhaps was at first only the object of their
admiration, but which, by their being refused an in-
nocent gratification of that passion, becomes at last
the subject of a more serious one. Thus in Spain,
as in all countries where the sex is kept much out
of sight, the thoughts of men are continually em-
ployed in divising methods to break into their con-
cealments.
There is in the Spaniards a native dignity ; which,
though the source of many inconveniences, has ne-
vertheless this salutary effect, that it sets them above
almost every species of meanness and infidelity. This
quality is not peculiar to the men ; it diffuses itself,
in a great measure, among the women also. Its effects
are visible both in their constancy in love and friend-
ship, in which respects they are the very reverse of the
French women. Their affections are not to be gained
by a bit of sparkling lace, or a tawdry set of liveries ;
nor are they to be lost by the appearance of still finer.
Their deportment is rather grave and reserved ; and,
on the whole, they have much more of the prude than
the coquette in their composition, Being more con-
fined at home, and less engaged in business and plea-
sure, they take more care of their children than the
French, and have a becoming tenderness in their dis-
position to all animals, except an heretic and rival.
I Something 

86 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Something more than a century ago, the Marquis
D'Astrogas having prevailed on a young women of
great beauty to become his mistress, the Marchioness
hearing of it, went to her lodging with some assassins,
killed her, tore out her heart, carried it home, made a
ragout of it, and presented the dish to the Marquis.
" It is exceedingly good," said he. " No wonder,"
answered she, " since it is made of the heart of that
" creature you so much doated on." And, to con-
firm what She had said, she immediately drew out her
head all bloody from beneath her hoop, and rolled it
on the flore, her eyes sparkling all the time with a
mixture of pleasure and infernal fury.
The Spaniards are indulgent almost beyond mea-
sure to their women ; and there are several situations
in which they take every advantage of this indulgence.
A kept mistress has, by indisputable custom, a right
to a new suit of clothes, according to the quality of
her keeper, as often as she is blooded. She need only
feign a slight illness, and be on a proper footing with
the doctor, to procure this as often as she pleases.
A lady to whom a gentleman pays his addresses,
is sole mistress of his time and money ; and, should he
refuse her any request, whether reasonable or capri-
cious, it would reflect eternal dishonour upon him
among the men, and make him the detestation of all
the women.
But, in no situation does their character appear so
whimsical, or their power so conspicuous, as when
they are pregnant. In this case, whatever they long
for, whatever they ask, or whatever they have an incli-
nation to do, they must be indulged in.
CHAP. 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 87
CHAP. XXVII.
OF THE ENGLISH WOMEN.
THE women of England are eminent for many
good qualities both of the head and of the
heart. There we meet with that inexpressible softness
and delicacy of manners, which, cultivated by educa-
tion, appears as much superior to what it does without
it, as the polished diamond appears superior to that
which is rough from the mine. In some parts of the
world, women have attained to so little knowledge,
and so little consequence, that we consider then virtues
as merely of the negative kind. In England they con-
sist not only in abstinence from evil, but in doing
good.
There we see the sex every day exerting themselves
in acts of benevolence and charity, in relieving the dis-
tresses of the body, and binding up the wounds of the
mind; in reconciling the differences of friends, and
preventing the strife of enemies; and, to sum up all,
in that care and attention to their offspring, which is
so necessary and essential a part of their duty.
With regard to the English ladies, Mr. Grosley, a
French writer, makes the following just, and very
favourable remarks: "That sex," says he, " is, in
its present state, just such as one could with it to be,
in order to form the felicity of wedlock. Their se-
rious and thoughtful disposition, by rendering them
sedentary, attaches them to their husbands, to their
children, and the care of their houses. They, for
the most part, nurse their own children themselves :
and this custom, which gains ground every day, is a
new tie of affection to the mothers.
" The English women are by no means indifferent
about public affairs. Their interesting themselves in
these, 

88 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
these, gives a new pleasure to social life. The husband
always finds at home somebody to whom he can open
himself, and converse as long and as earnestly as he
thinks proper, upon those subjects which he has most
at heart.
"At an assembly composed of both sexes, a lady
asked me whether I still had many curiosities and
objects of observation to visit in London ? I made an-
swer, that there was still one of great importance left
for me to know, and that she and her company could
give me all the information I desired : this was, whe-
ther, in England, the husband or the wife governed
the house ? My question being explained to all the
ladies present, they discussed it, and amused themselves
with it ; and the answer which they agreed should be
returned to me was, that husbands alone could re-
solve it. I then proposed it to the husbands, who
with one voice declared that they durst not decide.
"The perplexity discovered by those gentlemen,
gave me the solution I desired. In fact, the English
ladies and wives, with the most mild and gentle tone,
and with an air of indifference, coldness, and languor,
exercise a power equally despotic over both husbands
and lovers ; a power so much the more permanent,
as it is established and supported by a complaisance
and submissiveness, from which they rarely depart.
" This complaisance, this submission, and this mild-
ness, are happy virtues of constitution, which nature
has given them, to serve as a sort of mask to all that
is most haughty, proud, and impetuous, in the English
character.
" To the gifts of nature add the charm of beauty,
which is very common in England. With regard
to graces, the English women have those which ac-
company beauty, and not these artificial graces that
cannot supply its place ; those transient graces, which
are not the same to-day as yesterday; those graces,
which 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 89
which are not so much in the objects themselves, as
in the eye of the spectator, who has often found it
difficult to discover them."
Indeed, almost all foreigners, on their arrival here,
manifest their consciousness of the superior comeliness
of our women, by making it the continual topic of
their conversation; and though some of them are not
willing to exclude from the right of comparison the
females of their own country, yet their cause is es-
poused with so much faintness, that one may easily
perceive it is only done by way of saving their honour,
and enabling them to make a sort of decent retreat
from the field of contention, where they well know
they could not maintain their ground, and therefore
wisely avoid much discourse on that subject. 
Strangers unanimously agree in their descriptions
of our English ladies, with whose gentleness of tem-
per and unfeigned modesty they seem chiefly to be
captivated; and invariably concur in representing
them of a decent unaffected deportment, and of a
tender affectionate disposition.
CHAP. XXVIII.
OF THE RUSSIAN WOMEN.
IT is only a few years since the Russians emerged
from a state of barbarity.
A late empress of Russia, as a punishment for some
female frailties, ordered a most beautiful young lady
of family to be publicly chastised, in a manner which
was hardly less indelicate than severe.
I 2 It

88 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
these, gives a new pleasure to social life. The husband
always finds at home somebody to whom he can open
himself, and converse as long and as earnestly as he
thinks proper, upon those subjects which he has most
at heart.
"At an assembly composed of both sexes, a lady
asked me whether I still had many curiosities and
objects of observation to visit in London ? I made an-
swer, that there was still one of great importance left
for me to know, and that she and her company could
give me all the information I desired : this was, whe-
ther, in England, the husband or the wife governed
the house ? My question being explained to all the
ladies present, they discussed it, and amused themselves
with it ; and the answer which they agreed should be
returned to me was, that husbands alone could re-
solve it. I then proposed it to the husbands, who
with one voice declared that they durst not decide.
"The perplexity discovered by those gentlemen,
gave me the solution I desired. In fact, the English
ladies and wives, with the most mild and gentle tone,
and with an air of indifference, coldness, and languor,
exercise a power equally despotic over both husbands
and lovers ; a power so much the more permanent,
as it is established and supported by a complaisance
and submissiveness, from which they rarely depart.
" This complaisance, this submission, and this mild-
ness, are happy virtues of constitution, which nature
has given them, to serve as a sort of mask to all that
is most haughty, proud, and impetuous, in the English
character.
" To the gifts of nature add the charm of beauty,
which is very common in England. With regard
to graces, the English women have those which ac-
company beauty, and not these artificial graces that
cannot supply its place ; those transient graces, which
are not the same to-day as yesterday; those graces,
which 

OF THE FAIR SEX. 89
which are not so much in the objects themselves, as
in the eye of the spectator, who has often found it
difficult to discover them."
Indeed, almost all foreigners, on their arrival here
manifest their consciousness of the superior comeliness
of our women, by making it the continual topic of
their conversation; and though some of them are not
willing to exclude from the right of comparison the
females of their own country, yet their cause is es-
poused with so much faintness, that one may easily
perceive it is only done by way of saving their honour,
and enabling them to make a sort of decent retreat
from the field of contention, where they well know
they could not maintain their ground, and therefore
wisely avoid much discourse on that subject.
Strangers unanimously agree in their descriptions
of our English ladies, with whose gentleness of tem-
per and unfeigned modesty they seem chiefly to be
captivated; and invariably concur in representing
them of a decent unaffected deportment, and of a
tender affectionate disposition.
CHAP. XXVIII.
OF THE RUSSIAN WOMEN.
IT is only a few years since the Russians emerged
from a state of barbarity.
A late empress of Russia, as a punishment for some
female frailties, ordered a most beautiful young lady
of family to be publicly chastised, in a manner which
was hardly less indelicate than severe.
I 2 It

90 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
It is said that the Russian ladies were formerly as
submissive to their husbands in their families, as the
latter are to their superiors in the field ; and that they
thought themselves ill-treated, if they were not often
reminded of their duty by the discipline of a whip,
manufactured by themselves, which they presented to
their husbands on the day of their marriage, The
latest travellers, however, assert, that they find no re-
maining traces of this custom at present.
Their nuptial ceremonies are peculiar to themselves;
and formerly consisted of many whimsical rites, many
of which are now disused. On her wedding-day, the
bride is crowned with a garland of wormwood; and,
after the priest has tied the nuptial knot, his clerk
or sexton throws a handful of hops upon the head of
the bride, wishing that She may prove as fruitful as
that plant. She is then led home, with abundance of
coarse ceremonies, which are now wearing off even
among the lowest ranks ; and the barbarous treatment
of wives by their husbands is either guarded against
by the laws of the country, or by particular Stipula-
tions in the marriage contract.
In the conversation and actions of the Russian
ladies, there is hardly any thing of that softness and
delicacy which distinguish the sex in other parts of
Europe. Even their exercises and diversions have
more of the masculine than the feminine. The pre-
sent empress, with the ladies of her court, sometimes
divert themselves by shooting at a mark. Drunken-
ness, the vice of almost every cold climate, they are so
little ashamed of, that not many years ago, when a
lady get drunk at the house of a friend, it was custom-
ary for her to return next day, and thank him for the
pleasure he had done her.
Females, however, in Russia, possess several advan-
tages. They share the rank and splendour of the
families from which they are sprung, and are even al-
lowed 

91 OF THE FAIR SEX.        
lowed the supreme authority. This at present, is
enjoyed by an empress, whole head does honour to
her nation and to her sex; although, on some occa-
sions, the virtues of her heart have been much sus-
pected. The sex, in general, are protected from in-
sult by many salutary laws; and, except among the
peasants are exempted from every kind of toil and
slavery. Upon the whole, they seem to be approach-
ing fast to the enjoyment of that consequence, to
which they have already arrived in several parts of
Europe.
CHAP. XXIX.
OF THE GERMAN WOMEN.
OF all the German females, the ladies of Saxony
are the most amiable. Their persons are so
superiorly charming and preferable in whatever can
recommend them to the notice of mankind, that the
German youth often visit Saxony in quest of companions
for life. Exclusive of their beauty and comeliness of
appearance, they are brought up in the knowledge of
all those arts, both useful and ornamental, which are
so brilliant an addition to their native attractions.
But what chiefly enhances their value, and gives it
reality and duration, is a sweetness of temper and
festivity of disposition, that never fail to endear them
on a very slight acquaintance. To crown all, they
generally become patterns of conjugal tenderness and
fidelity.
As they are commonly careful to improve their
minds by reading and instructive conversation, they
have no small share of facetiousness and ingenuity.
From                                               

92 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
From their innate liveliness, they are extreme'y ad-
dicted to all the gay kind of amusements. They ex-
cel in the allurements of dress and decoration, and are
in general skilful in music.
The character, however, of the women in most
other parts of Germany, particularly of the Austrian,
is very different from this. Notwithstanding the ad-
vantages of size and make, their looks and features,
though not unsightly, betray a vacancy of that life and
spirit, without which beauty is uninteresting, and,
like a mere picture, becomes utterly void of that in-
dication of sensibility, which alone can awaken a de-
licacy of feeling.
As their education is conducted by the rules of the
grossest superstition, and they are taught little else
than set forms of devotion, they arrive to the years of
maturity uninstructed in the use of reason, and usually
continue profoundly ignorant the remainder of their
days, which are spent, or rather loitered away, in apa-
thy and indolence.
Having learned none of the ingenious methods of
making time fit lightly, their hours of leisure, which
their inactivity swells to a large amount, are heavy
and oppressive; and, from their want of almost all
fort of knowledge, the subjects of their discourse are
poor and insipid, to a great degree. So irksome,
even to themselves, is that kind of society which con-
sists in a communication of thoughts, that dress and
diversion are the only refuge from the tediousness
which hangs over the general tenour of their lives.
But whatever they attempt in either, shews an ab-
sence of all taste and elegance, such as one may na-
turally expect from the poverty and barrenness of
their fancy. In these two articles, indeed, they are
obliged to borrow from abroad all that is tolerable.
The principal happiness of the Austrian ladies of
fashion consists in ruminating on the dignity of their
birth 

93 OF THE FAIR SEX.
birth and families, the antiquity of their race, the
rank they hold, the respect attached to it, and the
prerogatives they enjoy over the inferior classes, whom
they treat with the utmost superciliousness, and hold
in the most unreasonable contempt. In the mean
time, their domestic affairs are condemned to the most
unaccountable neglect. They dwell at home, care-
less of what passes there; and suffer disorder and con-
fusion to prevail, without feeling the least uneasiness.
Great frequenters of churches, their piety consists in
the strictest conformity to all the externals of religion.
They profess the most boundless belief in all the silly
legends with which their treatises of devotion are
filled; and these are the only books they ever read.
The coldness of their constitution occasions a species
of regulated gallantry, which is rather the effect of an
opinion that it is an appendage of high life, than the
result of their natural inclination.
It must at the same time be allowed, that the
Austrian women are endowed with a great fund of
sincerity and candour; and, though too much on the
reserve, and prone to keep at an unnecessary distance,
are yet capable of the truest attachment, and always
warm and zealous in the cause of those, whom they
have admitted to their friendship.
Though the Germans are rather a dull and phleg-
matic people, and not greatly enslaved by the warmer
passion; yet at the court of Vienna they are much
given to intrigue; and an amour is so far from being
scandalous, that a woman gains credit by the rank of
her gallant, and is reckoned silly and unfashionable if
she scrupulously adheres to the virtue of chastity. But
such customs are more the customs of courts, than of
places less exposed to temptation, and consequently
less dissolute; and we are well assured that in Ger-
many there are many women who do honour to hu-
manity, 

94 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
manity, not by chastity only, but also by a variety of
other virtues.
The ladies, at the principal courts, differ not much
in their dress from the French and English. They are
not, however, so excessively fond of paint as the former.
At some courts, they appear in rich furs; and all
of them are loaded  with jewels, if they can obtain
them. The female part of the burghers families, in
many of the German towns, dress in a very different
manner, and some of them inconceivably fantastic, as
may be seen in many prints published in books of
travels. But, in this respect, they are gradually re-
forming, and many of them make quite a different
appearance in their dress from what they did thirty
or forty years ago.
The inhabitants of Vienna live luxuriously, a great
part of their time being spent in feasting and carous-
ing. In winter, when the different branches of the
Danube are frozen over, and the ground covered with
snow, the ladies take their recreation in sledges of
different shapes, such as griffins, tigers, swans, scallop-
shells, &c. Here the lady fits, dressed in velvet lined
with rich furs, and adorned with laces and jewels, hav-
ing on her head a velvet cap. The sledge is drawn
by one horse, stag, or other creature, set off with
plumes of feathers, ribbands, and bells. As this di-
version is taken chiefly in the night time, servants ride
before the sledges with torches; and a gentleman, stan-
ing on the sledge behind, guides the horse.
CHAP. 

95 OF THE FAIR SEX.               
CHAP. XXX.
ON THB COMPARATIVE MERIT OF THE TWO SEXES.
THE difference of duties, of occupations, and of
manner; must certainly have a considerable in-
fluence on the genius, on the sentiments, and on the
character of the two sexes.
In comparing the intellectual powers of men and
women, it is necessary to distinguish between the phi-
losophical talent, which thinks and discriminates; the
talent of memory, which collects; the talent of imagi-
nation, which creates; the moral and political talent,
which governs. It is also necessary to enquire to
what degree women possess these four kinds of genius.
The philosophical spirit is rare indeed, even among
men. But still there are many great men who have
possessed it; who have raised themselves to the height
of nature, to become acquainted with her works; who
have shewn to the soul the source of its ideas; who
have assigned to reason its bounds, to motion its laws,
and to the universe its harmony; who have created
sciences in creating principles; and who have aggran-
dized the human mind in cultivating their own. If
there is no woman found on a level with these illus-
trious men, is it the fault of education or of nature?
Descartes, abused by envious men, but admired by
two generous princesses, boasted of the philosophical
talents of women. We must not, however, imagine
that his gratitude could lead him into a voluntary
error, even in compliment to beauty. He would no
doubt find in Elizabeth, and in Christina, a docility
which prided itself in listening to so great a man,
and which seemed to associate itself with his genius,
in following the train of his ideas. He might per-
haps even find, in the compositions of women, per-
spicuity 

96 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
spicuity, order, and method. But did he find that,
strong discernment, that depth of intellect, that diffi-
dence, which characterises the real philosopher; Did
he find that cool reason, which, always inquisitive,
advances slowly, and remeasures all its steps;—Their
genius, penetrating and rapid, flies off, and is at rest.
They have more sallies than efforts. What they do
not see at once, they seldom see at all? they either
disdain or despair to comprehend it. They are not
possessed of that unremitting assiduity, which alone can
pursue and discover important truths.
Imagination seems rather to be their province. It
has been observed, that the imagination of women has
in it something unaccountably singular and extraor-
dinary. All things strike it; all things paint them-
selves on it, in a lively manner. Their volatile senses
embrace every object, and carry off its image. Some
unknown powers, some secret sympathies, enable them
rapidly to seize the impressions. The material world
is not sufficient for them; they love to create an ideal
world of their own, which they embellish, and in
which they dwell, Spectres, enchantments, prodigies,
and whatever transcends the ordinary laws of nature,
are their creation and their delight. They enjoy even
their terrors. Their feelings are fine, and their fancy
always approaches to enthusiasm.
But how far, it may be asked, can the imagination
of females, when applied to the arts, unsold itself in
the talent of creating and describing? Is their ima-
gination as vigorous as it is lively and versatile?
Does it not unavoidably partake of their occupations,
of their pleasures, of their tastes, and even of their
weaknesses? Perhaps their delicate fibres are afraid of
strong sensations, which fatigue them, and make them
seek the sweets which would give them repose.
Man, always active, is exposed to storms. The
imagination of the poet enjoys itself on the ridge of
mountains, 

97 OF THE FAIR SEX.
mountains, on the brink of volcanos, in the middle of
ruin, on seas, and in fields of battle; and it is never
more susceptible of tender ideas, than after having ex-
perienced some great emotion.
But women, by means of their delicate and sedentary
life, less acquainted with the contrast of the gentle
and the terrible, may be supposed to feel and to paint
less perfectly, even that which is agreeable, than those
who are thrown into contrary situations, and pass ra-
pidly from one sensation to another.
Perhaps too, from the habit of resigning themselves
to the impression of the moment, which with them is
very strong; their minds must be more replenished
with images than pictures. Or probably their imagi-
nation, though lively, resembles a mirror, which re-
flects every thing, but creates nothing.
Love is without dispute, the passion which women
feel the strongest, and which they express the best.
They feel the other passions more feebly, and, as it
were, by chance. But love is their own; it is tie
charm and the business of their life; it is their soul.
They should therefore know well how to paint it.
But do they know, like the author of Othello, of
the Revenge, or of Zara, to express the transports of
a troubled soul, which joins fury to love; which is
sometimes impetuous, and sometimes tender; which
now is softened, and now is roused; which sheds
blood, and which sacrifices itself; Can they paint these
doublings of the human heart, these storms of emotion 
and passion?—No; nature herself restrains them.
Love in the one sex is a conquest, in the other a sa-
crifice.
It must therefore generally happen that the women
of all countries, and in all ages, know better how to
paint a delicate and tender sentiment, than a violent
and turbulent passion.
K And 

98 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
And besides, by their duty, by the reserve of their
sex, by the desire of a certain grace which softens all
their expressions, is more bewitching than wit, and
more attractive than beauty, they are obliged always
to conceal a part of their sentiments. Must not then
these sentiments, by being continually restrained, be-
come weaker by degrees, and have less energy than
those of men, who, at all times bold and extravagant
with impunity, give to their passions what tone they
please, and which are invigorated by exercise?
A temporary constraint inflames the passions; but
a continued constraint cools or extinguishes them.
With regard to the talent of order and memory,
which classes facts, and ideas when necessary, as it
depends a good deal upon method and habit, there
seems little reason why the two sexes may not possess
it in an equal degree. But are not women sooner
disgusted with the excess of labour, which is necessary
in order to acquire the quantity of materials from
which erudition results? Must not their impatience
and natural desire of change, which arise from fleeting
and rapid impressions, prevent them from following,
for a course of years, the same kind of study, and con-
sequently from acquiring profound or extensive know-
ledge? Though this may be the case, they certainly
have qualities of mind  which atone for it. It is not
the same hand which polishes the diamond, and which
digs the mine.
We come now to a more important object, the
political or moral abilities, which consist in the direc-
tion of ourselves or of others. In order to weigh,
upon this subject, the advantages or disadvantages
peculiar to each sex, it is necessary to distinguish be-
tween the use of these abilities in society, and their
use in government.
As women set a high value upon opinion, they
must, by consequence, very attentively consider what
it 

99 OF THE FAIR SEX.
it is which produces, destroys or confirms it. They
must know how far one may direct, without appearing
to be interested; how far one may presume upon
that art, even after it is known; in what estimation
they are held by these with whom they live; and to
what degree it is necessary to serve them, that they
may govern them.
In all matters of business, women know the great
effects which are produced by little causes. They
have the art of imposing upon some, by seeming to
discover to them what they already know; and of
divirting others from their purpose, by confirming
their most distant suspicions. They know how to
captivate by praises those who merit them; and to
raise a blush, by bestowing them where they are not
due.
These delicate sciences are the leading-strings in
which the women conduct the men. Society to them
is like a harpsichord, of which they know the touches;
and they can guess at the sound which every touch
will produce. But man, impetuous and free, supplying
the want of address by strength, and consequently
being less interested to observe—hurried away, besides,
by the necessity of continual action—can scarcely be
possessed of all those little notices, and polite attentions,
which are every moment necessary in the commerce of
life. Their calculations, therefore, on society, must
be more slow, and less sure, than those of women.
Let us now take a view of that species of under-
standing, in the two sexes, which is applicable to go-
vernment.
In society, women govern men by their passions,
and the smallest motives often produce the greatest
consequences. But, in the government of states, it is
by comprehensive views, by the choice of principles.
and, above all, by the discover and the employment
of talents, that success can be obtained. Here, instead
of 

100 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
of taking advantage of foibles, they must fear them.
They must raise men above their weaknesses, and not
lead them into them.
In society, therefore, the art of governing may be
said to consist in flattering characters with address:
end the art of administration, in combating them with
judgment. The knowledge of mankind required in
the two cases is very different. In the one, they must
be known by their weakness; in the other, by their
strength. The one draws forth defects for little
ends; the other discovers great qualities, which are
mingled with those very faults. The one, in short,
seeks little blemishes in great men; and the other, in
dissecting great men, must often perceive the same
spots; for perfect characters exist only in Utopia.
Let us now enquire whether this species of under-
standing and observation belongs equally to the two
sexes.
There are women who have reigned and who still
reign, with lustre. Christina in Sweden, Isabella of
Castile in Spain and Elizabeth in England, have me-
rited the esteem of their age, and of posterity.
We saw, in the war of 1741, a princess, whom even
her enemies admired, defend the German empire with
no less genius than courage and we lately beheld the
Ottoman empire shaken by a woman. But, in general
questions, we should beware of taking exceptions for
rules, and observe the ordinary course of nature.
It therefore becomes necessary to enquire, whether
women, who, according to the mode of society, neither
are, nor have it in their power to be, so often in action
as men, can so well judge of talents, their use, or their
extent; whether great views, and the application of
great principles, with the habit of perceiving conse-
quences with the glance of an eye, are compatible with
their wandering imagination, and with minds so little
accustomed to the arrangement of their ideas. All
this 

101 OF THE FAIR SEX.
this is necessary to form the character which governs.
It is the vigour of the foul which gives activity to ge-
nius, which extends and which strengthens political
ideas. This character, however, can hardly be formed
but by great commotions great hopes, and great
fears as also the necessity of being continually engaged
in action.
Is it not in general, the character of women, that
their minds are more pleasing than strong? Does not
their rapid imaginaiton, which often makes sentiment
precede thought, render them, in the choice of men,
more susceptible both of prejudice, and of error?
Would not one be in danger of abuse, would not one
even run the risk of their displeasure, if he should say
that, in the distribution of their esteem, they would
set too high a value upon external accomplishment;
and, in short, that they would perhaps be too easily
led to believe that an agreeable man was a great man?
Elizabeth was not free from this censure. The
inclinations of her sex stole beneath the cares of the
throne, and the greatness of her character. We are
chagrined, at certain times, to see the little weak-
nesses of a woman mingle with the views of a great
mind. If Mary queen of Scotland had been less fair,
perhaps her rival had been less cruel.
This tast for coquetry, as is well known, furnished
Elizabeth with favourites, in the choice of which she
judged more like a woman than a sovereign. She was
always too ready to believe, that the power of pleasing
her, implied genius.
That so much celebrated queen exercised over En-
gland an almost arbitrary sway; at which, perhaps,
we ought not to be surprised. Women, in general,
on the throne, are more inclined to despotism, and more
impatient of restraint, than men. The sex to whom
nature has assigned power, by giving them strength,
have a certain confidence which raises them in their
K2 own                                         

102 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
own eyes; so that they have no need of manifesting to
themselves that superiority of which they are sure.
But weakness, astonished at the sway which she pos-
sesses, shakes her septre on every side, to establish her
dominion.
Great men are perhaps more carried to that spe-
cies of despotism which arises from lofty ideas; and
women, above the ordinary class, to the despotism
which proceeds from passion. The last is rather a
sally of the heart, than the effect of system.
One thing which favours the despotism of female
sovereigns is, that the men confound the empire of
their sex with that of their rank. What we refuse to
grandeur, we pay to beauty. But the dominion of
women, even when arbitrary, is seldom cruel. Theirs
is rather a despotism of caprice, than of oppression.
The throne itself cannot cure their sensibility. They
carry in their bosoms the counterpoise of their power.
Hence it follows, that in limited  monarchies, fe-
male sovereigns will tend to despotism from their je-
lousy; and in absolute government, will approach to
monarchy by their mildness. This observation is
proved by experience.
CHAP. XXXI.
ON THE RELIGIOUS AND DOMESTIC VIRTUES OF
WOMEN.
BOTH experience and history attest, that in all
sects, in all countries, and in all ranks, the
women have more religious virtues than the men.
Naturally possessed of more sensibility, they have more
occasion for an object which may constantly occupy
their 

103 OF THE FAIR SEX.
their mind. Desirous of happiness, and not finding
enough in this world, they launch into a life and a
world abounding with ineffable delights, More flex-
ible in there duties than men, they reason less, and feel
more. More subjected to good opinion they pay
more attention to what concerns themselves. Less 
occupied, and less active, they have more time for
contemplation. Less abstracted or absent, they are
more strongly affected by the same idea, because it
appears before them continually. More struck by ex-
ternal objects, they relish more the pageantry of cere-
monies and of temples; and the devotion of he senses
has no inconsiderable effect on that of the soul.
The domestic virtues are intimately connected with
those of religion; they are doubtless common to
both sexes. The advantage, however, seems still to be
in favour of the women. At least they have more
need of virtues which they have more occasion to
practise.
In the first period of life, timid, and without sup-
port, the daughter is more attached to her mother.
By seldom leaving her, she comes to love her more.
The trembling innocent is cheered by the presence of
her protectress; and her weakness, while it heightens
her beauty, augments her sensibility. After becom-
ing a mother herself, she has other duties, which every
thing invites her to fulfil. Then the condition of the
two sexes is widely different.                      .
Man, in the middle of his labours, and among his
arts, employing his powers, and commanding nature,
finds pleasure in his industry, in his success, and even
in his toils. But woman, being more solitary, and
less active, has fewer resources. Her pleasures must
arise from her virtues; her amusements are her chil-
dren. It is near the cradle of her infant; it is in
viewing the smiles of her daughter, or the sports of
her son, that a mother is happy. 
Where

104 HISTORICAL SKETCHES.
Where are the tender feelings, the cries, the pow-
erful emotions of nature? Where is the sentiment, at
once sublime and pathetic, that carries every feeling
to excess? Is it to be found in the frosty indifference,
and the rigid severity, of so many fathers? No; it is
in the warm impassioned bosom of a mother. It is
she who, by an impulse as quick as involuntary,
rushes into the stood to snach her child, whose im-
prudence had betrayed him to the waves! It is she
who, in the middle of a conflagration, throws herself
across the flames to save her sleeping infant!
These great expressions of nature, these heart-
rending emotions, which fill us at once with wonder,
compassion, and terror, always have belonged, and al-
ways will belong, only to women. They possess, in
those moments, an inexpressible something, which
carries them beyound themselves. They seem to dis-
cover to us new souls, above the standard of humanity.
If we consider also the matrimonial duties, the
obligations of husband and wife, which of the sexes
is most likely to be faithful? Which, in violating
them, has most obstacles to encounter? Is not woman
best defended by her education, by her reserve, and
by that modesty which silences even her desires? To
these restraints we may add the power of the first
passion, and the first ties, over a heart endowed with
sensibility.
Nature herself, attentive in this instance to the
manners of women has taken care to surround them
with the strongest, yet the gentlest barriers. She has
made inconstancy more painful, and fidelity more
pleasing, to their hearts. Even in ages of general cor-
ruption, conjugal infidelity in women has been one of
the last of crimes.
CHAP. 

105 OF THE FAIR SEX.
CHAP. XXXII.
ON FEMALE FRIENDSHIP.
IT has long been a question, which of the two sexes
is most capable of friendship. Montagne, who is
so much celebrated for his knowledge of human nature,
has given it positively against the women; and his
opinion has been generally embraced.
Friendship perhaps, in women, is more rare than
among men; but, at the same time, it must be allowed
that where it is found, it is more tender.
Men, in general, have more of the parade than the
graces of friendship. They often wound while they
serve; and their warmest sentiments are not very en-
lightened, with respect to those minute sentiments
which are of so much value. But women have a re-
fined sensibility, which makes them see every thing;
nothing escapes them. They divine the silent friend-
ship; they  encourage the bashful or timid friendship;
they offer their sweetest consolations to friendship in
distress. Furnished with finer instruments, they treat
more delicately a wounded heart. They compose it,
and prevent it from feeling its agonies. They knew,
above all, how to give value to a thousand things,
which have no value in themselves.
We ought therefore, perhaps, to desire the friend-
ship of a man upon great occasions; but, for general
happiness, we must prefer the friendship of a woman.
With regard to female intimacies, it may be taken
for granted that there is no young woman who has
not, or wishes not to have, a companion of her own
sex, to whom she may unbosom herself on every oc-
casion. That there are women capable of friendship
with women, few impartial observers will deny. There
have been many evident proofs of it, and those carried
as 

106 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
as far as seemed compatible with the imperfections of
our common nature. It is, however, questioned by
some; while others believe that it happens exceedingly
seldom. Between married and unmarried women, it
no doubt happens very often; whether it does so
between those that are single, is not so certain.
Young men appear more frequently susceptible of a
generous and steady friendship for each other, than
females as yet unconnected; especially, if the latter
have, or are supposed to have, pretentions to beauty,
not adjusted by the public.
In the frame and condition of females, however,
compared with those of the other sex, there are some
circumstances which may help towards an apology for
this unfavourable feature in their character.
The state of matrimony is necessary to the support,
order, and comfort of society. But it is a state that
subjects the women to a great variety of solicitude
and pain. Nothing could carry them through it
with any tolerable satisfaction or spirit, but very strong
and almost unconquerable attachments. To produce
these, is it not fit they should be peculiarly sensible to
the attention and regards of the men? Upon the same
ground, does it not seem agreeable to the purposes of
providence, that the securing of this attention, and
these regards, should be a principal aim? But can such
an aim be pursued without frequent competition?
And will not that too readily occasion jealousy, envy,
and all the unamiable effects of mutual rivalship?
Without the restraints of superior worth and senti-
ment, it certainly will. But can these be ordinarily
expected from the prevailing turn of female education;
or from the little pains that women, as well as other
human beings, commonly take to controul themselves,
and to act nobly? In this last respect, the sexes appear
pretty much on the same footing.
This 

107 OF THE FAIR SEX.
This reasoning is not meant to justify the indulgence
of those little and sometimes base passions towards one
another, with which females have been so generally
charged. It is only intended to represent such pas-
sions in the first approach; and, while not entertained,
as less criminal than the men are apt to state them:
and to prove that, in their attachments to each other,
the latter have not always that merit above the women,
which they are apt to claim. In the mean time, let it
be the business of the ladies, by emulating the gen-
tlemen, where they appear good-natured and disinter-
ested, to disprove their imputation, and to shew a
temper open to friendship as well as to love.
To talk much of the latter is natural for both; to
talk much of the former, is considered by the men as
one way of doing themselves honour. Friendship,
they well know, is that dignified form, which, in spe-
culation at least, every heart must respect.
But in friendship, as in religion, which on many
accounts it resembles, speculation is often substituted
in the place of practice. People fancy themselves pos-
sessed of the thing, and hope that others will fancy
so too, because they are fond of the name, and have
learnt to talk about it with plausibility. Such talk
indeed imposes, till experience gives it the lie.
To say the truth, there seems in either sex but little
of what a fond imagination, unacquainted with the
falsehood of the world, and warmed by affections
which its selfishness has not yet chilled, would reckon
friendship. In theory, the standard is raised too high;
we ought not, however, to wish it much lower. The
honest sensibilities of ingenuous nature should not be
checked by the over-cautious documents of political
prudence. No advantage, obtained by such frigidity,
can compensate for the want of those warm effusions
of the heart into the bosom of a friend, which are
doubtless among the most exquisite pleasures. At
the    

110 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
least it is that which has produced the greatest men,
and which gave birth to those ancient heroes, whose
history still astonishes our imagination, and accuses
our weakness. Patriotism, no doubt, is most corn-
monly produced by the ideas of interest and property,
by the remembrance of past services, by the hope of
future honours or rewards, and a certain enthusiasm
which robs men of themselves, to transform their ex-
istence entirely into the body of the state.
These sentiments, it will readily be perceived, do
not correspond with the condition of women. In
almost all governments excluded from honours and
from offices, possessed of little property, and restrained
by the laws even in what they have, they cannot in
general be supposed to be eminent for patriotism.
Existing more in themselves, and in the objects of
their sensibility, and being perhaps less fitted than
men by nature for the civil institutions in which they
have less share, they must be less susceptible of that
enthusiasm, which makes a man prefer the state to his
family and the collective body of his fellow-citizens
to himself.
The example of the Roman and Spartan ladies,
and the wonders performed by the Dutch women in
the revolution of the seven Provinces, clearly prove
that the glorious enthusiasm of liberty can do all
things; that there are times when nature is asto-
nished at herself; and that great virtues spring from
great calamities.
That universal love of mankind which extends to
all nations and to all ages, and which is a kind of
abstract sentiment, seems to correspond still less with
the character of females, than patriotism. They must
have an image of what they love.
It is only by the power of arranging his ideas, that
the philosopher is able to overleap so many barriers;
to pass from a  man to a people; from a people, to
human 

111 OF THE FAIR SEX.
human kind; from the time in which he lives to
ages yet unborn; and from what he sees, to what he
does not see.
The tender sex do not love to send their souls so
far a wandering. They assemble their sentiment; and
their ideas about them, and confine their affections 
to what interests them most. Those strides of bene-
volence, to women, are out of nature. A man to them
is more than a nation; and the hour in which they
live, than a thousand ages after death.
CHAP. XXXV.
OF WOMEN WITH REGARD TO POLISHED LIFE.
THERE are certain qualities which have gene-
erally been ranked among the social virtues, but
which may more properly be called the virtues of po-
lished life. They are the charm and the bond of
company; and are useful at all times, and upon all
occasions. They are, in the commerce of the world,
what current money is in trade. They are sometimes
not absolutely necessary, but one can never safely be
without them. They always procure the possessor a
more favourable reception.
Such is that mild complacency which gives a soft-
ness to the character, and an attractive sweetness to
the manners; that indulgence which pardons the
faults of others, even when it has no need of pardon
itself; the art of being blind to the visible foibles of
others, and of keeping the secret of those which are
hidden; the art of concealing our advantages, when
we humble our rivals or opponents, and of dealing
gently with those who cannot submit without being
offended. 

112 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
offended. Such is that facility which adopts opi-
nions it never had that freedom which inspires con-
fidence; and all that politeness, in short, which is so
very pleasing, though sometimes no more than a
happy lie.
Politeness is a part of the female character. It is
connected with their minds, with their manners, and
even with their interest. To the most virtuous wo-
man society is a field of conquest.
Few men have formed the project of making every
body happy, and so much the worse for those who
have. But many women have not only formed such a
scheme, but have succeeded in it.
We are, in general, so much the more polite, as we
are less devoted to ourselves, and more to others; as
we are more attentive to opinion; as we are more
zealous to be distinguished; and, perhaps, in propor-
tion as we have fewer resources, and greater means of
having them. In short, whether we speak of indi-
viduals or of nations, of the two sexes or the different
ranks, when we say they are polite, we always sup-
pose them to be idle, because we admit the necessity of
their living together.
Hence the art of regulating our behaviour, of ad-
justing our looks, our words, and our motions, the
need of attentions, and all toe little gratifications of
vanity.
We are naturally inclined to pay that homage
which we receive, and to exact that which we pay.
Thus the delicacy of self-love produces all the refine-
ments in society; as the delicacy of the senses pro-
duces all the refinements in pleasure; and as the deli-
cacy of tast, which is perhaps only the result of the
other two, produces all the refinements in literature,
arts, and sciences.
It will be easy to discern how these objects are
connected 

113 OF THE FAIR SEX.
connected with one another, and how they all relate to
women.                                 
But refined politeness, it may be faid, is allied to
falsehood. It substitutes the expression of sentiment
too often for sentiment itself.
Flattery is common to both sexes. But the flattery
of men is often very disgusting; that of women is more
light, and has more the appearance of sentiment.
Even when it is overdone, it is generally amusing.
The motive and the manner save them from con-
tempt.
Men generally owe their frankness to pride; women
to address. The one sex often utters a truth, without
any other view than truth itself. In the mouth of
the other, even truth itself has an aim.
CHAP. XXXVI.
ON THE IDEA OF FEMALE INFERIORITY.
IT is an opinion pretty generally established, that in
strength of mind, as well as of body, men are greatly
superior to women. Let us, however, duly consider
the several propensities and paths chalked out to each
by the author of their nature.
Men are endowed with boldness and courage, wo-
men are not. The reason is plain: these are beau-
ties in our character; in theirs they would be ble-
mishes. Our genius often leads us to the great and the
arduous; theirs to the soft and the pleasing; we bend
our thoughts to make life convenient; they turn
theirs to make it easy and agreeable. If the endow-
ments allotted to us by nature could not be easily
acquired by women; it would be as difficult for us
L2 to                

114 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
to acquire those peculiarly allotted to them. Are
we superior to them, in what belongs to the male
character? They are no less so to us, in what belongs
to the female character.
Would it not appear rather ludecrous to say, that
a man was endowed only with inferior abilities, be-
cause he was not expert in the nursing of children,
and practising the various effeminacies which we
reckon lovely in a woman? Would it be reasonable
to condemn him on these accounts? Just as reasonable
is it to reckon women inferior to men, because their
talents are in general not adapted to tread the horrid
path of war, nor to trace the mazes and intricacies of
science.
The idea of the inferiority of female nature, has
drawn after it several others the most absurd, unrea-
sonable, and humiliating to the sex. Such is the
pride of man, that in some countries he has considered
immortality as a distinction too glorious for women.
Thus degrading the fair partners of his nature, he
places them on a level with the beasts that perish.
As the Asiatics have, time immemorial, considered
women as little better than slaves, this opinion pro-
bably originated among them. The Mahometans,
both in Asia and Europe, are said, by a great variety
of writers, to entertain this opinion.
Lady Montague, in her Letters, has opposed this
general assertion of the writers concerning the Maho-
metans; and says that they do not absolutely deny the
existence of female souls, but only hold them to be of
a nature inferior to those of men; and that they enter
not into the same, but into an inferior paradise, pre-
pared for them on purpose. Lady Montague, and
the writers whom she has contradicted, may perhaps
be both right. The former might be the opinion
which the Turks brought with them from Asia; and
the                                                

115 OF THE FAIR SEX.
the letter, as a refinement upon it, they may have
adopted by their intercourse with the Europeans.
This opinion, however, has had but few votaries
in Europe; though some have even here maintained
it, and assigned various reasons for so doing. Among
these, the following laughable reason is not the least
particular." In the Revelations of St. John the
divine," said one, whose wife was a descendant of
the famous Xantippe*, " you will find this passage:
" And there was silence in heaven for about the space
" of half an hour. Now I appeal to any one whether
" that could possibly have happened, had there been
" any women there? And, since there are none there,
" charity forbids us to imagine that they are all in a
" worse place; therefore it follows that they have
" no immortal part: and happy is it for them, as
" they are thereby exempted from being accountable
" for all the noise and disturbance they have raised
" in this world."
In a very ancient treatise, called the Wisdom of all
Times, ascribed to Hushang, one of the earliest kings
of Persia, are the following remarkable words: " The
" passions of men may, by long acquaintance, be tho-
" roughly known; but the passions of women are in-
" scrutable: therefore they ought to be separated from
" men, left the mutability of their tempers should in-
" fect others."
Ideas of a similar nature seem to have been, at this
time, generally diffused over the east. For we find
Solomon, almost every where in his writings, exclaim-
ing against women; and, in the Apocrypha, the au-
thor of Ecclesiasticus is still more illiberal in his re-
flections.
* Xantippe was the wife of Socrates, and the most famous
scold of antiquity.
Both 

116 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Both these authors, it is true, join in the most en-
raptured manner to praise a virtuous woman; but
take care at the same time to let us know, that she is
so great a rarity as to be very seldom met with.
Nor have the Asiatics alone been addicted to this
illiberality of thinking concerning the sex. Satirists
of all ages and countries, while they flattered them to
their faces, have from their closets most profusely scat-
tered their spleen and ill-nature against them. Of this
the Greek and Roman poets afford a variety of instan-
ces: but they must nevertheless yield the palm to some
of our moderns. In the following lines, Pope has
outdone every one of them:
" Men some to pleasure, some to business take,
" But every woman is at heart a rake."
Swift and Dr. Young have hardly been behind this
celebrated splenetic in illiberality. They perhaps
were not favourites of the fair, and in revenge vented
all their envy and spleen against them. But a more
modern and accomplished writer, who by his rank in
life, by his natural and acquired graces, was undoubt-
edly a favourite, has repaid their kindness by taking
every opportunity of exhibiting them in the most con-
temptible light." Almost every man," says he,
" may be gained some way; almost every woman any
" way." Can any thing exhibit a stronger caution to
the sex? It is fraught with information; and it is to
he hoped they will use it accordingly.
CHAP. 

117 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
CHAP. XXXVII.
ON FEMALE SIMPLICITY.
WOULD we conceive properly of that sim-
plicity which is the sweetest expression of a
well-informed and well-meaning mind, which every
where diffuses tenderness and delicacy, sweetens the
relations of life, and gives a zest to the minutest duties
of humanity, let us contemplate every perceptible
operation of nature, the twilight of the evening, the
pearly dew-drops of the early morning, and all that
various growth which indicates the genial return of
spring. The same principle, from which all that is
soft and pleasing, amiable or exquisite, to the eye or
the ear, in the exterior frame of nature, produces that
taste for true simplicity, which is one of the most
useful, as well as the most elegant lessons, that ladies
can learn.
Infancy is, perhaps, the finest and most perfect
illustration of simplicity. It is a state of genuine na-
ture throughout. The feelings of children are under
no kind of restraint, but pure as the fire, free as the
winds, honest and open as the face of heaven. Their
joys incessantly slow in the thickest succession, and
their griefs only seem fleeting and convalescent. To
the calls of nature they are only attentive. They
know no voice but hers. Their obedience to all
her commands is prompt and implicit. They never
anticipate her bounties, nor relinquish her pleasures.
This situation renders them independant of artifice.
Influenced only by nature, their manners, like the
principle that produces them, are always the same.
Genuine simplicity is that peculiar quality of the
mind, by which some happy characters are enabled to
avoid 

118 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
avoid the most distant approaches to every thing like
affectation, inconsistency, or design, in their intercourse
with the world. It is much mere easily understood,
however, than defined; and consists not in a specific
tone of the voice, movement of the body, or mode
imposed by custom, but is the natural and permanent
effect of real modesty and good sense on the whole
behaviour.
This has been considered, in all ages, as one of the
first and most captivating ornaments of the sex. The
savage, the plebeian, the man of the world, and the
courtier, are agreed in stamping it with a preference
to every other female excellence.
Nature only is lovely, and nothing unnatural can
ever be amiable. The genuine expressions of truth
and nature are happily calculated to impress the heart
with pleasure. No woman, whatever her other qua-
lities may be, was ever eminently agreeable, but in
proportion as distinguished by these. The world is
good-natured enough to give a lady credit for all the
merit she can possess or acquire, without affectation.
But the least shade or colouring of this odious foible
brings certain and indeliable obloquy on the most ele-
gant accomplishments. The blackest suspicion ine-
vitably rests on every thing assumed. She who is only
an ape of others, or prefers formality, in all its gi-
gantic and preposterous shapes, to that plain unembar-
rassed conduct which nature unavoidably produces,
will assuredly provoke an abundance of ridicule, but
never can be an object either of love or esteem.
The various artifices of the sex discover themselves
at a very early period. A passion for expence and
show is one of the first they exhibit. This gives them
a taste for refinement, which divests their young hearts
of almost every other feeling, renders their tempers
desultory and capricious, regulates their dress only by
the most fantastic models of finery and fashion, and
makes 

119 OF THE FAIR SEX.
makes their company rather tiresome and aukward,
than pleasing or elegant.
No one perhaps can form a more ludicrous contrast to
every thing just and graceful in nature, than the woman
whose sole object in life is to pass for a fine lady. The
attentions she every where and uniformly pays, ex-
pects, and even exacts, are tedious and fatiguing.
Her various movements and attitudes are all adjusted
and exhibited by rule. By a happy fluency of the
most elegant language, she has the art of imparting a
momentary dignity and grace to the merest trifles.
Studious only to mimic such peculiarities as are most
admired in others, she affects a loquacity peculiarly
flippant and teazing; because scandal, routs, finery,
fans, china, lovers, lap-dogs, or squirrels, are her con-
stant themes. Her amusements, like those of a mag-
pye, are only hopping over the same spots, prying
into the same corners, and devouring the same species
of prey. The simple and beautiful deliniations of
nature, in her countenance, gestures, and whole de-
portment are habitually deranged, distorted, or con-
cealed, by the affected adoption of whatever grimace
or deformity is latest, or most in vogue.
She accustoms her face to a simper, which every
separate feature in it belies. She spoils, perhaps, a
blooming complexion with a profusion of artificial
colouring. She distorts the most exquisite shape by
loads or volumes of useless drapery. She has her head,
her arms, her feet, and her gait, equally touched by
art and affectation, into what is called the taste, the
ton, or the fashion.
She little considers to what a torrent of ridicule
and sarcasm this mode of conduct exposes her; or
how exceedingly cold and hollow that ceremony must
be, which is not the language of a warm heart. She
does not reflect how insipid those smiles are, which
indicate no internal pleasantry; nor how aukward
those 

120 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
those graces, which spring not from habits of good
nature and benevolence. Thus, pertness succeeds to
delicacy, assurance to modesty, and all the vagaries of
a listless, to all the sensibilities of an ingenious mind
With her, punctilio is politeness; dissipation, life;
and levity, spirit. The miserable and contemptible
drudge of every tawdry, innovation in dress or cere-
mony, she incessantly mistakes extravagance for taste,
and finery for elegance.
Her favourite examples are not those persons of ac-
knowledged sincerity, who speak as they feel, and act
as they think; but such only us are formed to dazzle
her fancy, amuse her senses for humour her whims.
Her only study is how to glitter or shine, how to cap-
tivate and gratify the gaze of the multitude, or how
to swell her own pomp and importance. To this
interesting object all her assiduities and time are reli-
giously devoted.
How often is debility of mind, and even badness of
heart, concealed under a splendid exterior! The fairest
of the species, and of the sex, often want sincerity; and
without sincerity every other qualification is rather a
blemish than a virtue or excellence. Sincerity operates
in the moral, somewhat like the sun in the natural
world; and produces nearly the same effects on the
dispositions of the human heart, which he does on
inanimate objects. Wherever sincerity prevails, and
is felt, all the smiling and benevolent virtues flourish
most, disclose their sweetest lustre, and diffuse their
richest fragrance.
Heaven has not a finer or more perfect emblem on
earth, than a woman of genuine simplicity. She
affects no graces which are not inspired by sincerity.
Her opinions result not from passion and fancy, but
from reason and experience. Candour and humility
give expansion to her heart. She struggles for no
kind of chimerical credit, disclaims the appearance of
every 

121 OF THE FAIR SEX.
every affectation, and is in all things just what she
seems, and others would be thought. Nature, not
art, is the great standard of her manners; and her ex-
terior wears no varnish, or embellishment, which is
not the genuine signature of an open, undesigning,
and benevolent mind. It is not in her power, because
not in her nature, to hide, with a fawning air, and a
mellow voice, her aversion or contempt, where her
delicacy is hurt, her temper rustled, or her feelings in-
sulted.
In short, whatever appears most amiable, lovely,
or interesting in nature, art manners, or life, originates
in simplicity. What is correctness. in taste, purity in
morals, truth in science, grace in beauty, but simpli-
city? It is the garb of innocence. It adorned the
first ages, and still adorns the infant state of huma-
nity. Without simplicity, woman is a vixen, a co-
quette, a hypocrite; society a masquerade, and plea-
sure a phantom.
The following story, I believe, is pretty generally
known. A lady, whose husband had long been af-
licted with an acute but lingering disease, suddenly
feigned such an uncommon tenderness for him, as to
resolve on dying in his stead. She had even the ad-
dress to persuade him not to outlive this extraordinary
instance of her conjugal fidelity and attachment. It
was instantly agreed they should mutually swallow
such a quantity of arsenic, as would speedily effect
their dreadful purpose. She composed the fatal
draught before his face, and even set him the desperate
example of drinking first. By this device, which had
all the appearance of the greatest affectation and can-
dour, the dregs only were reserved for him, and soon
put a period to his life.
It then appeared that the dose was so tempered, as
from the wright of die principal ingredient, to be
deadly only at the bottom, which she had artfully
M appropriated 

122 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
appropriated for his share. Even after all this finesse,
She seized, we are told, his inheritance, and insulted
his memory by a second marriage.
CHAP. XXXVIII.
ON THE MILD MAGNANIMITY OF WOMEN.
A LATE eminent anatomist, in a professional dis-
course on the female frame, is said to have de-
clared, that it almost appeared an act of cruelty in
nature to produce such a being as woman. This re-
mark may, indeed, be the natural exclamation of re-
fined sensibility, in contemplating the various maladies
to which a creature of such delicate organs is ine-
vitably exposed; but, if we take a more enlarged survey
of human existence, we shall be far from discovering
any just reason to arraign the benevolence of its pro-
vident and gracious author. If the delicacy of woman
must render her familiar with pain and sickness, let
us remember that her charms, her pleasures, and her
happiness, arise also from the same attractive quality.
She is a being, to use the forcible and elegant ex-
pression of a poet,
" Fine by defect, and amiably weak."
There is, perhaps, no charm by which she more
effectually secures the tender admiration and the lasting
love of the more hardy sex, than her superior indure-
ance, her mild and graceful submission to the common
evils of life.
Nor is this the sole advantage she derives from her
gentle fortitude. It is the prerogative of this lovely
virtue, 

123 OF THE FAIR SEX.
virtue, to lighten the pressure of all these incorrigible
evils which it cheerfully endures. The frame of
mam may be compared to the sturdy oak, which is
often shattered by resisting the tempest. Woman is
the pliant osier, which, in bending to the storm, eludes
its violence.
The accurate observers of human nature will readily
allow, that patience is most eminently the character-
istic of woman. To what a sublime and astonishing
height this virtue has been carried by beings of the
most delicate texture, we have striking examples in
the many female martyrs who were exposed, in the
first ages of christianity. to the most barbarous, and
lingering tortures.
Nor was it only from christian zeal that woman
derived the power of defying the utmost rigours of
persecution with invincible fortitude. Saint Am-
brose, in his elaborate and pious treatise on this sub-
ject, records the resolution of a fair disciple of Py-
thagoras, who, being severely urged by a tyrant to
reveal the secrets of her sex, to convince him that no
torments should reduce her to so unworthy a breach
of her vow, bit her own tongue asunder, and darted it
in the face of her oppressor.
In consequence of those happy changes which
have taken place in the world, from the progress of
purified religion, the inflexible spirit of the tender
sex is no longer exposed to such inhuman trials. But,
if the earth is happily delivered from the demons of
torture and superstition; if beauty and innocence are
no more in danger of being dragged to perish at the
stake—perhaps there see situations, in female life,
that require as much patience and magnanimity, as
were formerly exerted in the fiery torments of the
virgin martyr.it is more difficult to support an accu-
mulation of minute infelicities, than single calamity
of the most terrific magnitude.
CHAP.

124 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. XXXIX.
OM FEMALE DELICACY.
WHERE the human race has little other culture
than what it receives from nature, the two
sexes live together, unconscious of almost any restraint
on their words or on their actions. The Greeks, in
the heroic ages, as appears from the whole history of
their conduct, where totally unacquainted with deli-
eacy. The Romans, in the infancy of their empire,
were the same, Tacitus informs us that the ancient
Germans had not seperate beds for the two sexes, but
that they lay promiscuously on reads or on hearth,
spread along the walls of their houses. This custom
still prevails in Lapland among the peasants of Nor-
way, Poland, and Russia; and it is not altogether obli-
terated in some parts of the highlands of Scotland and
of Wales.
In Otaheite, to appear naked, or in clothes, are
circumstances equally indifferent to both sexes; nor
does any word in their language, nor any action to
which they are prompted by nature, seem more inde-
licate or reprehensible than another. Such are the
effects of a total want of culture.
Effects not very dissimilar are, in France and Italy,
produced from a redundance of it. Though these are
the politest countries in Europe, women there set
themselves above shame, and despise delicacy. It is
laughed out of existence, as a silly and unfashionable
weakness.
But in China, one of the politest countries in Asia
and perhaps not even, in this respect, behind France
or Italy, the case is quite otherwise. No human being
can be more delicate than a Chinese woman, in her
dress,

125 OF THE FAIR SEX.
dress, in her behaviour, and in her conversation; and
should she ever happen to be exposed in any unbe-
coming manner, She feels with the greatest poignancy
the aukwardness of her situation, and if possible covers
her face, that she may not be known.
In the midst of so many discordant appearances,
the mind is perplexed, and can hardly fix upon any
cause to which female delicacy is to be ascribed. If
we attend, however, to the whole animal creation, if
we consider it attentively wherever it falls under our
observation, it will discover to us, that in the female
there is a greater degree of delicacy or coy reserve
than in the male. Is not this a proof, that, through
the wide extent of creation, the seeds of delicacy are
more liberally bestowed upon females than opon
males?                                         
In the remotest periods of which we have any his- 
torical account, we find that the women had a delicacy
to which the other sex were strangers. Rebecca veiled
herself when she first approached Isaac her future
husband. Many of the fables of antiquity mark,
with the most distinguishing characters, the force of
female delicacy. Of this kind is the fable of Actæon
and Diana. Actæon, a famous hunter, being in the
woods with his hounds, beating for game, accidentaly
spied Diana and her nymphs bathing in a river.
Prompted by curiosity, he stole silently into a neigh-
houring thicket, that he might have a nearer view of
them. The goddess discovering him, was so affronted
at his audacity, and so much ashamed to have been
seen naked, that in revenge she immediately trans-
formed him into a stag, set his own hounds upon him,
and encouraged them to overtake and devour him.
Besides this and other fables, and historical anecdotes
of antiquity, their poets seldom exhibit a female cha-
racter, without adorning it with the graces of mo-
destly and delicacy. Hence we may infer, that these   
M2 qualities, 

126 HIST0RICAL SKETCHES
qualities have not only been always essential to virtuous
women in civilized countries, but were also constantly
praised and esteemed by men of sensibility; and that
delicacy is an innate principle in the female mind.
There are so many evils attending the loss of virtue
in women, and so greatly are the minds of that sex
depraved when they have deviated from the path of
rectitude, that a general contamination of their morals
may be considered as one of the greatest misfortunes
that can befal a state, as in time it destroys almost
every public virtue of the men. Hence all wise le-
gislators have strictly enforced upon the sex a par-
ticular purity of manners; and not satisfied that
they should abstain from vice only have required them
even to shun every appearance of it.
Such, in some periods, were the laws of the Ro-
mans; and such were the effects of these laws, that
if ever female delicacy shone forth in a conspicuous
manner, it was perhaps among those people, after
they had worn off much of the barbarity of their first
ages, and before they became contaminated by the
wealth and manners of the nations which they plun-
dered and subjected. Then it was that we find many
of their women surpassing in modesty almost every
thing related by fable; and then it was that their
ideas of delicacy were so highly refined, that they
could not even bear the secret consciousness of an in-
voluntary crime, and far less of having tacitly con-
sented to it.
CHAP. 

127 OF THE FAIR SEX.
CHAP. XL.
ON FEMALE WIT.
WIT has been well compared to the dancing
of a meteor, that blazes, allures, and misleads,
Most certainly it alone can never be a steady light;
and too probably it is often a fatal one. Of those
who hate resigned themselves to its guidance, how few
has it not betrayed into great indiscretions at least,
by inflaming their thirst of applause; by rendering
them little nice in their choice of company; by sedu-
cing them into strokes of satire, too offensive to the
persons against whom they were levelled, not to be re-
pelled upon the authors with full vengeance; and,
finally, by making them, in consequence of that heat
which produces, and that vanity which fosters it, for-
getful of those cool and moderate rules that ought to
regulate their conduct!
A very few there may have been endowed with
judgment and temper sufficient to restrain them from
indulging "the rash dexterity of wit," and to direct
it to purposes equally agreeable and beneficial. But
one thing is certain—that witty men, for the most
part, have had few friends, though many admirers.
Their conversation has been courted, while their abi-
lities have been feared, or their characters hated—or
both. In truth, the last have seldom merited affection,
even when the first have excited esteem. sometimes
their hearts have been so bad, as at length to bring
their heads into disgrace.
At any rate, the faculty termed wit is commonly
looked on with a suspicious eye, as a two-edged
sword, from which not even the sacredness of friend-
ship can secure. 
It

128 HISTORICAL SKETCHES.
It is generally more dreaded in women than in men.
In a Mrs. Rowe, we may presume, it was not. To
great brilliancy of imagination, that angelic female
joined yet greater goodness of disposition; and never
wrote, nor was ever supposed to have said, in her
whole life, an ill-natured, or even an indelicate thing.
Of such a woman, with all her talents, none could be
afraid. In her company, it must have been impossible
not to feel respect. If aught on earth can present the
image of celestial excellence in its softest array, it is
surely an accomplished woman; in whom purity and
meekness, intelligence and modesty, mingle their
charms.
Men of the best sense, however, have been usually
averse to the thought of marrying a witty female.
Were they afraid of being outshone? some of them
perhaps might be so, but many of them acted or dif-
ferent motives. Men who understand the science of
domestic happiness, know that its very first principle
is ease. Of that indeed we grow fonder, in every con-
dition, as we advance in life, and as the heat of youth
abates. But we cannot be easy where we are not
safe. We are never safe in company of a critic;
and almost every wit is a critic by profession. In such
company we are not at liberty to unbend ourselves.
All must be the straining of study, or the anxiety of
apprehension. How painful! Where the heart may
not expand and open itself with freedom, farewel to
real friendship, farewel to convivial delight! But to
suffer this restraint at home, what misery! From the
brandishings of wit in the hand of ill-nature, of impe-
rious passion, or of unbounded vanity, who would not
flee? But when that weapon is brandished at a hus-
band, is it to be wondered if, from his own house,
he take shelter in the tavern! He sought a friend, he
expected to be happy in a reasonable companion; he
has found a perpetual satirist, ox a self-sufficient prat-
tler. 

129 OF THE FAIR SEX.
tler. How does one pity such a man, when one sees
him in continual fear on his own account, and that
of his friend, and for the poor lady herself; left, in
the run of her discourse, she should be guilty of some
petulence or some indiscretion, that would expose her,
and hurt them all!
But take the  matter at the best, there is still all
the difference in the world between the entertainer of
in evening, and a partner for life. Of the latter, a
sober mind, steady attachment, and gentle manners,
joined to a good understanding, will ever be the chief
recommendations; whereas the qualities that sparkle
will be often sufficient for the former.
CHAP. XLI.
ON FEMALE CREDULITY.
OF some females, credulity is a very striking cha-
racteristic. A credulous woman is supremely
skilled in the ingenious and happy art of building
castles in the air; and, as often as one fabric of illusion
is demolished, she erects another in its place. Her
life is a scene of perpetual and ever-varying hope;
and, as hope is one of the most lively passions, her
temper is naturally gay. Her head may be compared
to one of those raree-show boxes, which are filled with
splendid and successive pictures of one magnificent ob-
ject. At the first peep you may discern the temple
of Hymen. The stricture presently vanishes; but
disappears only to make room for a more captivating
view, either of the temple itself, or of some delightful
avenue which is terminated by the same noble edifice.
She 

130 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
She can recollect a thousand instances in real life,
as well as romance, of ladies who have made the most
sudden and fortunate conquests, by the simple and
natural circumstance of looking out of a window; and
she therefore devotes herself, with particular assiduity,
to this favourite amusement. She sees a lover in every
man by whom she is civilly accosted; and hears a
hint at least, if not an offer of marriage, in every com-
mon compliment that is casually addressed to her.
There is one danger to which a credulous lady, if
she happens to be rich, is particularly exposed; I
mean, the very serious danger arising from those vi-
gilant and assiduous gentlemen, 'ycleped fortune hunt-
ters, who think themselves entitled to plunder an opu-
lent female, in the character of a bridegroom.
Flaccilla was an unfortunate example of this fatal
credulity. She inherited an ample fortune, and pos-
sessed from her childhood a romantic turn of mind.
She happened to pass some months in autumn at
the seat of a nobleman to whom she was distantly
related. The peer had lately received a new game-
keeper into his service—a stout and enterprising son of
Hibernia, who had seen, though under thirty, many
vicissitudes of life; and had sustained the active parts
of a travelling valet, a common soldier, and a strolling
player, before he engaged in his present occupation.
The lively Patrick soon contracted a great intimacy
with the fair attendant of Flaccilla; who diverted him,
in their vacant moments, by relating with ludicrous
humour the  whimsies of her lady.
The ingenious Hibernian, who had founded his
amusement on the foibles of the maid, now determined
to build his fortune on the foibles of the mistress.
Having arrayed himself in his new suit of green, he
surprised the tender Flaccilla alone, in a sequestered
spot of her favourite wood, to which she delighted to 
retire

131 OF THE FAIR SEX.              
retire, for the convenience of devouring a new novel
without interruption.
Patrick soon prevailed on her to quit the visionary
tale for a more engaging romance. In short, he per-
suaded her that he was the son of an Irish peer in
disguise, who had only submitted to his present humi-
liation, to secure the ecstatic delight, which he now
enjoyed, of throwing himself at her feet. The steady
impostor played his part with dexterity and success.
The lady consented to elope, was married, and made
miserable, before the activity of her friends could un-
deceive her. All, indeed, that they were at last able
to do for her was, to prevail on the reasonable Patrick
to leave his wife to reflect on her credulous impru-
dence, and to bargain for a chance of future tran-
quillity at the expence of her fortune. Some incon-
siderable share of this, indeed, she was lucky enough
to recover and retain; but her health and spirits
were impared by the disgrace of her adventure, and
her latter years were embittered by unavailing repen-
tance for her absurd credulity.
This foible, however, though rising to a high de-
gree of absurdity, may still, in some instances, be an
object more worthy of tenderness and pity, than of
contempt and derision. Instead of being the offen-
sive offspring of arrogance and vanity, it is frequently
the mere baby of simplicity and benevolence. It
often arises solely from the most natural and the most
amiable of human wishes, the with of being beloved;
and, when its origin is such, who would not be tender
to the child for the sake of the parent?
As hope is one of the most potent of our illusive
passions, we cannot wonder that the just and laudable
hope of finding a husband, should often cheat the
most sensible of ladies into an erroneous belief of having
found him. How often does the philosopher delude
himself in much clearer matters, and where the silence
of                                                

132 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
of his heart affords him not so good an excuse for the
confusion of his judgment!
This easiness of belief, with regard to many, is so
perfectly free from every other blemish, that one can-
not but lament the raillery to which it is exposed.
It has been perceived to be united with such frames,
that, instead of deriding it as a weakness, fome have
been almost led to regard it as a gift from heaven, to
compensate for the misfortunes of deformity. The
young and inconsiderate cannot be expected to veiw it
in so serious a light. But, to caution them from the
danger of treating it with such unintended cruelty
as they may afterwards regret, I shall relate the brief
history of a lady, whose fate was as singular as her per-
son was unfortunate, and her character deserving.
Harriot Aspin was the youngest of four sisters, who
in their childhood had all a prospect of passing through
life with every advantage that beauty and fortune
can bestow. But destiny ordained it otherwise; the
extravagance of their father abridged the portion of
each; and the little Harriot had the additional affliction
of personal calamities.
From a fall which her nurse occasioned, and con-
cealed, she contracted a great degree of deformity;
and the iujuries that her frame had received from acci-
dent, were completed in what her countenance suffered
from that cruel distemper, by which beauty was so
frequently destroyed before the happy introduction
of inoculation. Her countenance and person were
wretchedly disfigured; but her mind still possessed the
most valuable of mental powers, and her heart was
embellished by every generous affection. Her friends
were many; but she had passed her fortieth year
without once hearing the addresses of a single lover,
Yet the fancied whisper of this enchanting passion
often vibrated in her ear; for, with a solid and bril-
liant understanding, she was deeply tinctured with this
credulous 

133 OF THE FAIR SEX.
credulous foible. As she advanced towards fifty,
finding her income very narrow, and her situation un-
pleasant, she took shelter in the family of her favourite
sister, married to a good-natured man of easy fortune;
who, though he had several children, very readily al-
lowed his wife to afford an asylum, and administer all
the comforts in her power, to this unfortunate re-
lation.
The good deeds of benevolence rarely pass unre-
warded. The obliging temper of Harriot, united to
infinite wit and vivacity, contributed to restore the de-
clining health of her sister, and enlivened the house
into which she was so kindly admitted. She endeared
herself to every branch of it; but her second nephew,
whose name is Edward, became her principal favourite,
and returned her partiality with more esteem and
affection than nephews are used to feel for an old
maiden aunt. Indeed, there was a striking similarity
in their characters; for they both possessed a very un-
common portion of wit, with extreme generosity and
good-nature. Harriot had the most perfect penetra-
tion into the foibles of every character but her own;
and had the art of treating them with such tender and
salutary mirth, that she preserved her nephew, whose
constitution was amorous and vain, from a thousand
follies into which the giddiness of his passions would
otherwise have betrayed him; and, what is still more
to her honour, when he was really fallen into some
juvenile scrape, which sometimes would happen, she
never failed to assist him, both with secret advice, and
the private aid of such little sums of money, as she
always contrived to save from her slender income, for the
most generous of purposes.
By her last beneficence of this nature, she had ena-
bled her nephew to redeem his gold watch, which Ed-
ward, who stood in awe of his father, had actually
N pawned 

134 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
pawned, to deliver a poor and unfortunate girl from a
spunging-house.
It was almost impossible not to love a maiden aunt
of so engaging a character; and Edward, whose
affections were naturally ardent, loved her indeed
most sincerely. But his penetration discovered her
foible, and the vivacity of his spirit often tempted him
to sport with it.
Hitherto, however, he had done so in the most
harmless manner; but a circumstance arose, which
fully proved the danger of this ordinary diversion.
Edward, being a younger brother, was designed for
the profession of physic. He had studied at Edin-
burgh; and, returning from thence to London, had
brought with him a medical friend, who was a native
of Savoy, and was preparing to settle as a physician
at Turin. In the gaiety of his heart, Edward in-
formed his aunt Harriot that he had provided her
with a husband; and he enlarged on the excellent qua-
lities of his friend. The Savoyard was extremely
polite: and, either attracted by the pleasantry of her
conversation, or touched with medical pity for the
striking infelicity of her distorted frame, he had paid
particular attention to Miss Aspin; for, being yet
under fifty, She had not assumed the title of Mrs.
This particular attention was fully sufficient to con-
vince the credulous Harriot that her nephew was seri-
ous. But she was unluckily confirmed in that illusion,
by his saying to her, one evening," Well, my dear
" aunt, my friend is to leave England on Monday.
" Consider, upon your pillow, whether you will pass
" the Alps, to settle with him for life; and let me
" know your decision before the week expires."
The sportive Edward was very far from supposing
that these idle words could be productive of any fatal
event; for the health of his aunt was such, that he
considered his proposal of crossing the Alps full as
extravagant 

135 OF THE FAIR SEX.
extravagant as if he had proposed to her to settle in
the moon. But let youth and vigour remember, that
they seldom can form a just estimate of the wishes,
thoughts, and feelings of infirmity.
Poor Harriot had no sooner retired to her chamber,
than she entered into a profound debate with a fa-
vourite maid, who used to sleep in her room, concerning 
the dangers of crossing the Alps, and the state of her
health. In this debate, both her heart and her fancy
played the part of very able advocates, and defended
a weak cause by an astonishing variety of arguments
in its favour. They utterly overpowered her judg-
ment. But they could not bias the founder sense of
Molly, who was seated on the bench on this occasion.
The honest girl, who happened to have a real lover
in England, had many motives to dissuade her mistress
from an extravagant project of settling in a foreign
country; and she uttered as many reasons to poor
Harriot against the passage of the Alps, as were urged
to the son of Hamilcar by his Carthaginian friends,
when he first talked of traversing those tremenduous
mountains. The debate was very warm on both sides,
and supported through the greatest part of the night.
The spirited Harriot was horribly fatigued by the
discourse, but utterly unconvinced by the forcible ar-
guments of her opponent. She even believed that
the journey would prove a remedy for her asthmatic
complaints. Her desire of a matrimonial establish-
ment was full as efficacious as the vinegar of Hannibal;
and the Alps melted before it.
At the dawn of day, she had positively determined
to follow the fortunes of the amiable Savoyard. The
peace of mind which this decision produced, afforded
her a short slumber, but, on waking, she was very far
from being refreshed; and found that her unhappy
frame had suffered so much from the agitation of her
spirit, and the want of her usual sleep, that she was
unable

136 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
unable to appear at breakfast. This, however, was a
circumstance too common to alarm the family: for,
though her cheerfulness never forsook her, yet her
little portion of strength was frequently exhausted; and
her breath often seemed at the very point of departing
from her diminutive body.
Towards noon, her sister entered her chamber, to
make a kind enquiry concerning her health. It was a
warm day in spring; yet Harriot, who was extremely
chilly, had seated herself in a little low chair, by the
side of a large fire. Her feet were strangely twisted
together, and, leaning forward to rest her elbow on her
knee, she supported her head on her right hand. To
the affectionate questions of her sister she made no reply,
but, starting from her reverie, walked with apparent
difficulty across the chamber, and, saying with a see-
ble and fainting voice, " I can never pass the Alps,"
sunk down on the side of her bed, and with one deep
sigh, but without any convulsive struggle, expired.
Whether the much-injured and defective organs of
her life were completely worn out by time, or whether
the conflict of different affections, which had harassed
her spirit through the night, really shortened her exist-
ence, the all-seeing Author of it alone can determine.
It is certain, however, that her death, and the pecu-
liar circumstances attending it, produced among her
relations the most poignant affliction, As she died with-
out one convulsive motion, her sister could hardly be-
lieve her to be dead; and as this good lady had
not attended to the levities of her son Edward she
could not comprehend the last words of Harriet, till her
faithful servant gave a full and honest account of the
nightly conversation which had passed between herself
and her departed mistress.
An intimate friend of her nephew Edward, who well
knew his regard for this singular little being, hastened
to him the first moment that he heard she was no more.
He

137 Of THE FAIR SEX.
He found him under the strongest impression of recent
grief, and in the midst of that self accusation so natural
to a generous spirit upon such an occasion. He endea-
voured to comfort him, by observing that death, which
ought, perhaps, never to be considered as an evil, might
surely be esteemed a blessing to a person, whose unfor-
tunate infirmities of body must undoubtedly have been
a source of incessant suffering. "Alas! my dear friend,"
be replied, " both my heart and my understanding refuse
to subscribe to the ideas, by which you so kindly try
to console me. I allow, indeed, that her frame was un-
happy, and her health most delicate. But who had a
keener relish of all the genuine pleasures, which be-
long to a lively and cultivated mind, and still more
of all those higher delights, which are at once the
test and the reward of a benevolent heart? It is true, she
had her foibles; but what right had I to sport with
them? To me they ought to have been particularly
sacred, for she never looked upon mine, but with a
most generous indulgence." "Poor Harriot!" he
would frequently exclaim; "poor aunt Harriot! I
have basely abridged thy very weak, but not unjoyous
existence, by the most unthinking barbarity. I will,
however, be tender to thy memory; and I wish that
I could warn the world against the dangerous cruelty
of justing with the credulity of every being who may
assemble thee."
N2 CHAP.

138 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. XLII.
ON THE lNFLUENCE OF FEMALE SOCIETY.
THE company of ladies has a very powerful in-
fluence on the sentiments and conduct of men.
Women, the fruitful source of half our joys, and
perhaps of more than half our sorrows, give an
elegance to our manners, and a relish to our plea-
sures, They sooth our afflictions and soften our cares.
Too much of their company will render us effeminate,
and infallibly stamp upon us many signatures of the fe-
male nature. A rough and unpolished behaviour, as well
as slovenliness of person, will certainly be the conse-
quence of an almost constant exclusion from it. By
spending a reasonable portion of our time in the com-
pany of the women, and another in the company of our own
sex, we shall imbibe a proper share of the softness of
the female, and at the same time retain the firmness
and constancy of the male.
" We believe that it is proper," says an amiable wri-
ter, who has studied the human heart with success, for
persons of the same age, of the same sex, of similar dis-
positions and pursuits, to associate together. But here
we seem to be deceived by words. If we consult nature
and common sense, we shall find, that the true propri-
ety and harmony of social life depend upon the con-
nection of people of different dispositions and characters
judiciously blended together. Nature hath made no
individual, nor no class of people, independent of the rest
of their species, or sufficient for their own happiness.
" Each sex, each character, each period of life, have
their several advantages and disadvantages, and that
union is the happiest and most proper where wants are
mutually supplied.
" The 

139 OF THE FAIR SEX.
" The fair sex should naturally hope to gain from
our conversation, knowledge, wisdom, and sedateness;
and they should to give us, in exchange, humanity,
politeness, cheerfulness, taste, and sentiment.
" The levity, the rashness, and folly of early life are
tempered with the gravity, the caution, and the wisdom
of age; while the temidity, coldness of heart, and
languor incident to declining years, are supported and
assisted by the courage, the warmth, and the vivacity of
youth."
As little social intercourse subsisted between the two
sexes, in the more early ages of antiquity, we find
the men less courteous, and the women less engag-
ing. Vivacity and cheerfulness seem hardly to have
exifted. Even the Babylonians, who appear to have
allowed their women more liberty than any of the an-
cients, seem not to have lived with them in a friendly and
familiar manner. But, as their intercourse with them was
considerably greater than that of the neighbouring na-
tions, they acquired thereby a polish and refinement
unknown to any of the people who surrounded them.
The manners of both sexes were softer, and better cal-
culated to please.
They likewise paid more attention to cleanliness
and dress.
After the Greeks became famous for their know-
ledge of the arts and sciences, their rudeness and barba-
rity were only softned a new degrees. It is not therefore
arts, sciences, and learning, but the company of the other
sex, that forms the manners and renders the man
agreeable.
The Romans were, for some time, a community
without women, and consequently without any thing
to soften the ferocity of male nature. The Sabine
virgins, whom they had stolen, appear to have infused
into them the first ideas of politeness. But it was
many ages before this politeness banished the roughness
of 

140 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
of the warrior, and assumed the refinement of the
gentlmen.
During the times of chivalry, famale enfluence was
at the zenith of its glory and perfection. It was the
source of valour, it gave birth to politeness, it awakened
pity, it called forth benevolence, it restricted the hand
of oppression, and meliorated the human heart. " I can-
not approach my mistress," said one," till I have done
some glorious deed that may deserve her notice. Ac-
tions should be the messengers of the heart; they are the
homage due to beauty, and they only should discover
love."
Marsan, instructing a young knight how to behave
so as to gain the favour of the fair, has these remarkable
words:—" When your arm is raised, if your lance fail,
draw your sword directly; and let heaven and hell re-
found with the clash. Lifeless is the soul which beauty
cannot animate, and weak is the arm which cannot
fight valiantly to defend it."
The Russians, Poles, and even the Dutch, pay less
attention to their females than any of their neighbours,
and are, by consequence, less distinguished for the graces
of their persons, and the feelings of their hearts.
The lightness of their food, and the salubrity of their
air, have been assigned as, reasons for the vivacity and
cheerfulness of the French, and their fortitude in sup-
porting their spirits through all the adverse circum-
stances of this world. But the constant mixture of the
young and old, of the two sexes, is no doubt one of
the principal reasons, why the cares and ills of life fit
lighter on the shoulders of that fantastic people, than
on those of any other country in the world.
The French reckon an excursion dull, and a party
of pleasure without relish, unless a mixture of both sexes
join to compose it. The French women do not even
withdraw from the table after meals; nor do the men
discover


141 OF THE FAIR SEX.
discover that impatience to have them dismissed, which
they so often do in England.
It is alleged by those who have no relish for the
conversation of the fair sex, that their presence
curbs the freedom of speech, and restrains the jollity
of mirth. But, if the conversation and the mirth are
decent, if the company are capable of relishing any
thing but wine, the very reverie is the case. Ladies,
in general, are not only more cheerful than gentlemen,
but more eager to promote mirth and good humour.
So powerful, indeed, are the company and conversa-
tion of the fair, in diffusing happiness and hilarity, that
even the cloud, which hangs on the thoughtful brow of
an Englishman, begins in the present age to brighten,
by his devoting to the ladies a larger share of time,
than was formerly done by his ancestors.
Though the influence of the sexes be reciprocal,
yet that of the ladies is certainly the greatest. How
often may one see a company of men, who were dis-
posed to be riotous, checked all at once into decency
by the accidental entrance of an amiable woman;
while her good sense and obliging deportment charms
them into at least a temporary conviction, that there
is nothing so beautiful as female excellence, nothing so
delightful as female conversation, in its best form!
Were such conviction frequently repeated, what might
we not expect from it at last?
" Were Virtue," said an ancient philosopher," to
appear amongst men in visible shape, what vehement
desires would she enkindle! " Virtue exhibited without
affectation, by a lovely young person, of improved un-
derstanding and gentle manners, may be said to appear
with the most alluring aspect, surrounded by the Graces.
It would be an easy matter to point out instances of
the most evident reformation, wrought on particular
men, by their having happily conceived a passion for vir-
tuous women.
To 

142 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
To form the manners of men, various causes con-
tribute; but nothing, perhaps, so much as the turn of
the women with whom they converse. Those who
are most conversant with women of virtue and under-
standing; will be always found the most amiable cha-
racters, other circumstances being supposed alike. Such
society, beyond every thing else, rubs off the corners that
give many of our sex an ungracious roughness. It pro-
duces a polish more perfect, and more pleasing, than
that which is received from a general commerce with
the world. This last is often specious, but commonly
superficial. The other is the result of gentler feelings,
and a more elegant humanity. The heart itself is mould-
ed. Habits of undissembled courtesy are formed. A
certain flowing urbanity is acquired. Violent passions,
rash oaths, coarse jests, indelicate language of every
kind, are precluded and disrelished.
Understanding and virtue, by being often contem-
plated in the most engaging lights, have a sort of assi-
milating power. Let it not be supposed, however,
that the men, here described, will become feminine.
Their sentiments and deportment will only contract a
grace: their principles will have nothing ferocious or
forbidding: their affections will be chaste and soothing
at the same instant. In that case, the gentlemen, the man
of worth, and the religious man, will all melt insensibly
and sweetly into one another.
The French and Italian nobility are generally edu-
cated in the drawing-room, at the toilette, and places
of public amusement, where they are constantly in the
company of women.
The English nobility and gentry receive their edu-
cation at the university, and at Newmarket, where
books, grooms, and jockeys must, of course, be their
companions.
Some mode of education, between these two ex-
tremes, would have a tendancy to  preserve the dignity
of 

143 OF THE FAIR SEX.
of the man, as well as to infuse a sufficient quantity of
the address of the woman.
Female society gives men a taste for cleanliness and
elegance of person. Our ancestors, who kept but
little company with their women, were not only slo-
venly in their dress, but had their countenances dis-
figured with long beards. By female, influence, how-
ever, beards were, in process of time, mutilated down
to mustaches. As the gentlemen found that the
ladies had no great relish for mustaches, which  were
the relies of a beard, they cut and curled them into
various fashions, to render them more agreeable. At
last, however, finding such labour vain, they gave them
up altogether. But as those of the three learned pro-
sessions were supposed to be endowed with, or at least
to stand in need of, more wisdom than other people,
and as the longest beard had always been deemed to
sprout from the wisest chin, to supply this mark of
distinction, which they had lost, they contrived to
smother up their heads in enormous quantities of
frizzled hair, that they might bear the greater resem-
blance to an owl, the bird sacred to wisdom and
Minerva.
To female society it has been objected by the
learned and studious, that it enervates the mind, and
gives it such a turn for trifling, levity, and dissipation,
as renders it altogether unfit for that application
which is necessary in order to become eminent in any
of the sciences. In proof of this they allege, that the
greatest philosophers seldom or never were men who
enjoyed, or were fit for, the company or conversation
of women. Sir Isaac Newton hardly ever conversed
with any of the sex. Bacon, Boyle, Des Cartes,
and many others, conspicuous for their learning and
application, were but indifferent companions to the fair.
It is certain, indeed, that the youth, who devotes his
whole time and attention to female conversation, and
the 

144 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
the little offices of gallantry, never distinguishes him-
self in the literary world. But notwithstanding this,
without the fatigue and application of severe study,
he often obtains, by female interest, what is denied to
the merited improvements acquired by the labour of
many years.
CHAP. XLIII.
OF THE BRITISH LADIES AT DIFFERENT PERIODS.
WHAT polished nations understand by society,
appears to have been little known in England,
before the reign of Henry VIII. This backwardness
may in some measure be ascribed to our continental
wars with France and with Scotland. By our quar-
rels with the one, we were shut out from foreign in-
tercourse; and by our hostilities with both, we were
diverted from cultivating the arts of peace.
The spirit of chivalry, which produced such ama-
zing effects on the Continent, was more weakly felt
here. Edward III. had indeed established the order
of the garter. But real wars allowed the knights
little time for the mock encounter, or the generous
visions of romantic heroism. Love was still a simple
passion, which led the shortest way to its gratification,
and generally in conformity with law and custom.
It partook little of imagination; and consequently,
required few perfections in its object. It aspired nei-
ther at angels nor goddesses.
The women, who still retained all their native inno-
cence and modesty, were regarded only as wives and
mothers. Where qualifications are not demanded, they
will never be found. The accomplishments of the sex
entitled

145 OF THE FAIR SEX.
entitled them to no other character; and it had per-
haps been happy for both sexes, it they could have
remained in such a state of simplicity.
The Scots, by means of their alliance with France,
which had subsisted for several centuries and that spi-
rit of adventure, which has at all times led them abroad
in quest of reputation, civil or military, may be sup-
posed at this time to have been better acquainted with
the elegances, of life, than their wealthy and powerful
neighbours. Accordingly we find, in the court of
James IV. a taste in music, in letters, and in gallantry,
to which the great monarch of the house of Tudor and
his haughty barons were yet stranger.
But the political state of both kingdoms was an in-
superable bar to all liberal intercourse. The barons,
or chiefs, were hostile to the court, from which they
had every thing to fear, and nothing to hope. They
were dreaded by it in their turn; they looked from
the walls of their castles with a jealous eye on each
other; they never went abroad, but attended by a
numerous train of domestics. They visited each other
with the state, and the diffidence, of neighbouring
princes. Their marriages were contracted from fa-
mily motives, and their courtships were conducted
with the greatest form, and the most distant respect.
They took liberties indeed with the women of inferior
condition, and they rioted in thoughtless jollity with
their dependents. But the ideas of inferiority  and
dependance are incompatable with those of society and
gallantry.
Henry VII. by curbing the hostile spirit of the
barons, by abridging their power, by diminishing their
retainers, by extending commerce, by encouraging
agriculture, by securing peace to his subjects, at home
and abroad, prepared the way for learning, arts, and
elegance. But the taste of the nation was not yet ripe
for their reception; and the temper of his son, Henry
O VIII. 

146 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
VIII. was not highly favourable to such a revolution.
That prince, however, by his taste for tournaments,
softered the spirit of chivalry. By his magnificence
ard profusion he drew the nobility to court; and,
by his interviews with the emperor, and the French
king, he roused their emulation of foreign elegance.
They were smitten with the love of letters and of gal-
lantry. The Earl of Surrey, in particular, celebrated
his mistress in his verses, and defended her honour with
his sword, against all who dared, with unhallowed lips,
to profane her immaculate name.
The women in this reign likewise began to discover
a taste for literature and politeness. The countess of
Richmond, mother to Henry VII. and who survived
him, had shewn the way. She translated two pious
treatises from the French; and was a great patroness
of learning. Elizabeth Blount, mistress to Henry
VIII. was a woman of elegant accomplishments; and
his last queen, Catharine Parr, wrote with facility both
in Latin and English, and appears besides to have been
a woman of address.
But the house of Sir Thomas More seems, in a
more particular manner, to have been the habitation
of the Muses, and even of the Graces. He was pos-
sessed of all the learning of antiquity, and was pious
even to weakness. But neither his religion, nor his
learning, soured his temper, nor blunted his taste for
society. His ideas of the female character would do
honour to a gentleman of the present age. "May
you meet with a wife not stupidly silent, nor always
prattling nonsense. May she be learned, if possible, or
at least capable of being made so. A woman, thus
accomplished, will be always drawing sentiments and
maxims out of the best authors. She will be herself,
in all the changes of fortune. She will neither be
blown up with prosperity, nor broken in adversity.
You will find in her an even, cheerful, good-humoured
friend, 

147 OF THE FAIR SEX.             
friend, and an agreeable companion for life. She will
infuse knowledge into your children with their milk,
and from their infancy train them up to wisdom.
Whatever company you are engaged in, you will long
to be at home; and will retire with delight from the
society of men into the bosom of a woman, who is so
dear, so knowing, and so amiable. If she touches her
lute, and more particularly if she sings to it any of
her own compositions, it will sooth your solitude, and
her voice will found sweeter in your ear, than the song
of the nightingale. You will spend whole days and
nights with pleasure in her company, and you will be
always finding out new beauties in her mind. She
will keep your soul in perpetual serenity. She will
restrain its mirth from being dissolute, and prevent its
melancholy from becoming painful."
According to these ideas, he educated his three
daughters, whose virtues and talents appear to have
merited all his care. They lived for some time in
one house, with their father, their husbands, and their
children, and formed a society, all things considered,
which has seldom, if ever, been equalled, in any age
or country; where morals were sublimed by religion;
where manners were polished by a sense of elegance,
and softened by a desire to please; where friendship
was warmed by love, and strengthened by the ties of
blood. Their conversation, animated by genius, en-
riched by learning, and moderated by respect, exulting
in the dignity of its object, seemed to approach to
that fine transport, which immortal beings may be
supposed to feel, in pouring out their contemplations
of the wisdom and goodness of the Creator. When
lighter matters were the subject of discourse, with
a spring, humour a flow, and sentiment a poignancy,
of which those who are always talking of trifles, who
hover continually on the surface of the earth, and rove
like

148 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
like butterflies from sense to sense, both in their lives
and conversations, can have no conception.
The reign of Elizabeth is justly considered as one
of the most shining periods in the English history.
For purity of manners, vigour of mind, vigour of cha-
racter, and personal address, it is perhaps unequalled.
The magnificent entertainments, which that illus-
trious princess so frequently gave her court, and at
which she generally appeared in person, with a most
engaging familiarity, rubbed off the ancient reserve
of the nobility, and increased the taste of society, and
even of gallantry. The masculine boldness of her
character, however, was unfavourable to female graces.
The women of her court, like herself, were rather ob-
jects of respect than love. Their virtues were severe;
their learning and their talents were often great; they
had passions, but they knew how to suppress them, or
to divert them into the channel of interest or ambition.
They did not however want their admirers. Men were
less delicate in those days.
Spenser, by writing his Fairy Queen, revived in
Britain the spirit of chivalry, at a time, when it began
to expire on the Continent; and Sir Philip Sidney,
in his Arcadia, refined on that sentiment. The Fairy
Queen was intended as a compliment to Elizabeth;
and the Arcadia was dedicated by Sir Philip to his
sister, the countess of Pembroke, the most amiable and
accomplished women of her time.
The following ingenious and well-known verses were
intended as part of her epitaph:
" Underneath this sable hearse
" Lies the subject of all verse,
" Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother—
" Death! are thou hast kill'd another,
" Fair, and learn'd, and good as she,
" Time shall throw a dart at thee."
Elizabeth 

149 OF THE FAIR SEX.
Elizabeth herself was a great and singular character.
But she had few qualities to recommend her as a wo-
man, though passionately fond of personal admiration.
Nor were her talents, as a writer, either striking or
elegant, though she appears to have been ambitious
of literary same. Her ability as a sovereign has been
already considered. Her virtues were those of her
rank, and of her age; and her weaknesses, those of
her sex. They failed, however, to render her amiable.
Mary queen of Scotland, the cotemporary of Eli-
zabeth, and her rival in beauty, in letters, and in
sway, though a less perfect, is a more attractive cha-
racter. While we blame her conduct, she conciliates
our affection. Even those who accuse her of guilt,
must weep for her misfortunes; and will feel their bo-
soms swell with indignation against her inhuman sub-
jects, and her persidious protectress, while they road
her unhappy story, as told by her enemies.
The return of Mary to her native kingdom, after
the death of her husband Francis II. with all the ele-
gancies of France, superadded to the finest natural
endowments, made the Scots hope, and not without
readon, that literature, arts, and politeness, would
arrive at perfection among them, as soon as in any
northern nation. But the spirit of fanaticism, that
awaked  in Scotland about this time, which was at-
tended with such amazing effects, and which spread
itself over the whole island—which produced the death
of the lovely Mary, of the pious Charles, and which
terminated in the expulsion of the royal house, threw
a cloud over the manners; and the studies of that coun-
try, which two centuries have scarcely been able to
dispel.
The accession of James VI. to the throne of Eng-
land, contributed still farther to obstruct the progress
of civilization in Scotland, and to the decline of the
arts in that country. The removal of the court drew
O2 the 

150 HTST0RICAL SKETCHES
the nobility to London, to spend their fortunes, or
obtain preferment. Men of genius and learning like-
wise looked this way.
That event, however, must have contributed to the
advancement of society in England; yet not so much
as might be expected. The scantiness of James's
revenue, together with his want of œconomy, rendered
him unable to support the splendour of a court. It
was besides inconsistent with his maxims of policy,
and with his temper. He loved to be social with his
friends, but hated a crowd; and had rather an aver-
sion to the company of women. A  mean jealousy,
which took place of a generous emulation, between
the Scotch and English courtiers, prevented still farther
the refinement of manners; which can only be effect-
ed by a liberal intercourse.
The nobility and gentry of England are still fonder
of a country life, than those of any polished nation in
Europe. It prevailed much more then, and was
highly encouraged by James. He even issued pro-
clamations, containing severe threatenings, against the
gentry who lived in town. By these means, the an-
cient pride of family was preserved. Men of birth
were distinguished by a stateliness of carriage. Much
ceremony took place in the ordinary commerce of life;
and, as riches acquired by trade were still rare, little
familiarity was indulged by the great.
The king's pacific, or rather pusillanimous disposi-
tion, though it sunk the national character, was fa-
vourable to commerce, and not altogether unfriendly
to letters. James himself was a scholar; but he was
unhappy in a bad taste, which infected his whole court,
and indeed the whole nation. He was fond of meta-
physical quibbles, the jingle of words, and every
species of false wit. Such a taste is in some measure
inseparable from the revival of letters. We admire
what 

151 OF THE FAIR SEX.
What is glaring, before we can discern what is beau-
tiful.
The theatre, that great former of manners, and
which is formed by them, had been founded by Shake-
speare, under the reign of Elizabeth. He was suc-
ceeded by Jonson and Fletcher. These writers have
seldom painted the manners of their own country, and
seldom those of their own age. But, as they must
have endeavoured to please the people to whom they
wrote, and as they no doubt knew the taste of the
public, we may discern that taste more perfectly in
their compositions, than in the barren records of the
times.
In the writings of Shakespeare, we find all the
noble spirit of the virgin-reign. Love has its native
importance, but little more. It is productive of the
greatest events, when connected with circumstances;
but, when a simple passion, its effects are feeble and
transient. He seldom attempts to be wanton. But
when he is so, he expresses his meaning in the plainest,
and often in the broadest words.
In the writings of Fletcher, love has acquired an
imaginary power, It is equal to every thing in itself,
and seems to disregard those circumstances, which alone
can give it consequence. He treats of the subject
with a grace peculiar to himself; for a genteel educa-
tion, and a good natural taste, conspired to render him
the most elegant writer of his age.
From his comedies we may conclude that love was
ambitious of being thought more important than it
really was; that it had purposes to carry, which it
durst not reveal; and which, consequently, suggested
the disguise of delicate expression. The duel, we
know, had taken place of the tournament; and the in-
trigue, we may be certain, would not be long behind.
Under Charles I. a good taste in letters, in arts, and
in society, began to prevail. The king himself was
both 

151 HISTORICAL SKETCHES.
both a judge and an example of fine writing. He
was a lover of painting, music, and architecture; all
which he liberally encouraged. But the religious
and political disputes, which early in this reign di-
vided the nation, and which brought about the death
of the king, and the subversion of the monarchy, di-
verted the thoughts of men from every elegant pur-
suit. The dread of popery and arbitrary power, and
the hope of heaven and of liberty, threw the whole
island into the most violent convulsions, and gave
birth to some of the greatest geniuses, and called
forth some of the greatest characters, in the history 
of mankind.
The cavaliers, or royal party, however, notwith-
standing the horrors of civil war, maintained a gaiety
of temper which was altogether astonishing, and a free-
dom of manners which too often bordered on licen-
tiousness. But the republicans, though perhaps not
infected with fewer vices, and those of a less amiable
cast, discover so much vigour of mind, such a resolute
spirit of action, a love of freedom, and a contempt of
death, that we almost despise the polish of society,
even while we detest the cant of hypocrisy.
The most distinguished women of this period, in
Britain, were the Duchess of Newcastle, Lady Paking-
ton, and Lady Halket.
The Duchess of Newcastle has left us a variety of
compositions, both in prose and verse, of no mean cha-
racter.
Lady Pakington has long been reputed the author
of The Whole Duty of Man, and several other moral
and divine treatises; which are written with so much
temper, purity, piety, philosophy, and good sense,
that she may be justly reckoned the glory of her sex,
and an honour to human nature. What greatness of
mind and goodness of heart must the person be pos-
sessed of, who could deny herself the honour of such
works, 

153 OF THE FAIR SEX.
works, left the name of a woman should render them
of less service to mankind!
Under the commonwealth, the face of the nation
was entirely changed. It experienced a revolution,
as compleat in manners as in policy. One would
have imagined himself in a different world. The
theatres were shut. Games, sports, shows, and amuse-
ments of every kind were prohibited. Instead of the
voice of mirth and joy, nothing was to be heard but
groans, sighs, prayers, and spiritual songs. All liberal
knowledge, ornamental learning, gentility of manner,
elegance of dress, and all superfluity in eating and
drinking were proscribed, as carnal vanities, and as
the accomplices of sin and Satan. All ranks, ages,
and sexes were confounded. The illuminations of the
spirit placed all on a level. The leaders of the re-
public prayed, or exhorted one while, and listened the
next to the meanest of the people.
Women were often teachers. Those fair divines,
by reason of their finer feelings and more vivid imagi-
nations, were often carried into the most extraordinary
severities, and the wildest enthusiasm. They were not
contented with laying aside the allurements of their
sex, but they condemned themselves to humiliation
and fasting, for the wandering of their hearts.
Love, under the commonwealth, was a mixture of
cant and hypocrisy. Never was beauty so much in
disgrace. It was not only denied all adventitious
ornaments and excellencies, but even the advantages of
nature were subject of reproach. It was forbid to
please; and it was criminal to consider it as an object
of desire.
The emotions of nature were considered as the
struggles of original guilt; and beauty was viewed as
a spell in the hands of Satan, to seduce the hearts of
the faithful
But 

154 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
But the restoration of monarchy made ample
amends to beauty for the indignities of the common-
wealth. The reign of Charles II. may be considered,
in one light, as the most glorious æra to women in the
history of Britain, and as the most debasing in another.
They were never so much caressed; never so little
respected.
Charles himself had a susceptible, but changeable
heart; a social temper, a genteel manner, and a lively
wit. His courtiers partook much of the character of
their master. They had all suffered the pressure of
adversity, or felt the insolence of pious tyranny. They
began to think that christianity was a fable; that
virtue was a cheat; that friendship and generosity
were but words of course; and, in greedily enjoying
their change of fortune, they sunk themselves beneath
the dignity of men. In avoiding spiritual pride, and
in retaliating selfishness, they departed from the essen-
tial principles of religion and morals; and, by con-
trasting the language and the manners of hypocrisy,
they shamelessly violated the laws of decency and de-
corum.
Overjoyed at the return of their sovereign, the
whole royal party dissolved in thoughtless jollity; and
even many of the republicans, particularly the younger
class, and the women, were glad to be relieved from
the gloomy austerity of the commonwealth. A ge-
neral relaxation of manners took place. Pleasure be-
came the universal object, and love the prevailing taste;
but that love was rather an appetite than a passion.
Beauty, unconnected with virtue, was its object: it
was therefore void of honour and attachment. In
consequence of such manners, female virtue, robbed of
its reward, became rather a mode of behaviour, to
inflame desire, or procure elevation, than a sentiment
or principle; and, of course, sooner or later, was either
sacrificed to inclination or to caprice.
But

155 OF THE FAIR SEX.              
But these observations, in their full extent, must
only be understood of the court. The greater pan
of the gentry still resided on their estates in the coun-
try, equally strangers to the pleasures of the court and
town; and one half of the island was filled with indig-
nation at the vices of Whitehall. The stage, which
generally takes its complexion from the court, was a
continued scene of sensuality, blasphemy, and absurd-
ity.
The free intercourse, however, of all ranks of men,
from the king to the commoner, improved the talent
of society, and polished the language of conversation.
Gallantry, licentious as it was, produced a habit of
politeness; and from the irregular, and even impious
freedom of waiting and thinking, sprung many strokes
of real genius, and a liberal spirit of enquiry, whose
researches and experiments have benefited mankind,
and carried philosophy and the sciences to a height
that does honour to modern times.
The women of this reign, as may be expected
from the taste of the men, were more solicitous about
adorning their persons, than their minds. But the
frequent intercourse between the sexes in some mea-
sure compensated that neglect. By such a commerce
they became more easy, more free, more lively, and
more capable of conversation, than the women of any
preceding age. They had less learning, but more
accomplishments; and, perhaps, more genius, They
wanted nothing but virtue to have made their me-
mories immortal; and, notwithstanding the general
depravity, there were some who trod the narrow path,
whose taste and sentiments were uncorrupted, and
whose names still live in their writings, and in the
verses of their cotemporaries.
The reign of James II. was too short to have any
distinct character. It is only singular for the blind
bigotry, and blinder disposition of the prince, which
roused 

156 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
roused the minds of men from the delirium of plea-
sure, in which they had been lost, and brought about
the Revolution.
Under William III. the effects of that change were
visible on the manners. The nation returned to what
may be called its natural state. An attention to just
politics, to found philosophy and true religion, cha-
racterise the æra of British liberty.
William himself was of a gloomy temper, and had
a dislike to the company of women. The intercourse
of the sexes, and those amusements which are its con-
sequences, were therefore little countenanced during
his reign. By these means the ladies had more time
for the pursuits of learning and knowledge; and they
made use of it accordingly. Many of them became
adepts in the sciences. Lady Masham, and Mary
Astell, particularly, discussed with judgment and abi-
lity the most abstract points in metaphysics and divinity.
These two ladies differed on a very delicate point.
Mary affirmed that we ought to love with desire God
only, every other love being sinful. Lady Masham
opposed that doctrine as a dangerous refinement. Each
had her abettors. Miss Astell was supported by Mr.
Norris, and Lady Masham by Mr. Locke.—They
were both great advocates for the learning of women;
and their arguments and example appear to have rous-
ed many of the sex to a more serious attention to reli-
gion and morality.
The reign of Queen Anne may be said to have been
the summer, of which Williams was only the spring.
Every thing was ripened; nothing was corrupted. It
was a short, but glorious period of heroism and na-
tional capacity, of taste and science, learning and ge-
nius, of gallantry without licentiousness, and polite-
ness without effeminacy.
One is in doubt which most to admire in the women
of this reign, the manners, the talents, or the accom-
plishments. 

157 OF THE FAIR SEX.
plishments. They were religious without severity,
and without enthusiasm. They were learned without
pedantry. They were intelligent and attractive, with-
out neglecting the duties of their sex. They were
elegant and entertaining, without levity. In a word, they
joined the graces of society to the knowledge of letters,
and the virtues of domestic life. They were friends and
companions, without ceasing to be wives and mothers.
In support of the foregoing character of the British
ladies under the reign of Queen Anne, we need only
add the names of Lady Chudleigh, Lady Winchelsea,
the Honourable Mrs. Monk, Mrs. Bovey, and Stella.
Of these ladies, Mrs. Boevey is perhaps the least
known, as she has left no writings, and had no poetical
lover to spread her name. She is, however, very
handsomely complimented by Sir Richard Steele, in
the dedication of the second volume of the Ladies Li-
brary; and Mrs. Manley gives the following elegant
character of her in The New Atalantis: " Her person
" has as many charms as can be desired, Her air, her 
" manner, her judgment, her wit, her conversations,
" are admirable. Her sense is solid and perspicuous.
" She is so perfect an œconomist, that, in taking in
" all the greater duties of life, she does not disdain to
" stoop to the most inferior. In short, the knows all
" that a man can know, without despising what, as a
" woman, she ought not to be ignorant of."
Under George I. the manners of the nation were
sensibly changed; but not so much as the national
spirit. The South Sea scheme, and other mercenary
projects, produced a passion of avarice, and a taste of
luxury, which prepared the way for all the corrup-
tions of the following reign.
The delirium of riches was beyond what the most
extravagant imagination can conceive. Any scheme,
however absurd, met with encouragement, if it only
proposed sufficient advantages. All ranks and con-
P ditions, 

158 HISTORICAL  SKETCHES
ditions, end even women, resorted to 'Change Alley,
with the looks of harpies ready to seize upon their
prey; but, in reality, the victims of their own cre-
dulity and sordid passions. The peers of the realm
become stock-jobbers, and its ministers brokers. Pub-
lic virtue was lost in the visions of private benefit.
Letters fell into contempt, though supported by the
greatest examples of successful genius. Love grew
covetous, and beauty venal.
There were, however, in this reign, many women
of libera1 and elegant talents; among the first of whom
may be ranked Lady Mary W. Montague, so well
known for her spirited poems, and ingenious letters.
Under George II. the debasement of mind dis-
covered itself more fully in the manners. Corruption
became general.
The Revolution had restrained the powers of the
prince within such narrow limits, that a coalition of
parties, or the absolute superiority of one, was essen-
tial to carry the measures of government; and, as the
opposition, or country party, began to gather strength,
the political machine was in danger of standing still
bv counteracting forces. It was therefore necessary
that there should be an ascendancy. It was likewise,
perhap;, necessary that it should be on the side of the
court.
At this crisis Sir Robert Walpole, an artful and
able minister, a lover of peace, and an encourager of
commerce, found means to increase the influence of
the crown, without enlarging the prerogative. But
he did it at the expence of the virtues of the people;
and his example has been followed by all succeeding
ministers. He took advantage of that spirit of avarice
and luxury which he had fostered. The treasury was
let loose at elections. A majority was obtained of the
refuse of both parties; of men determined to support
the measures of the court, in defiance of conscience,
honour, 

159 OF THE FAIR SEX.              
honour, and honesty, and who were only formidable
by the number of their voices. Places and pensions,
were multiplied to reward the mercenary tribe; and
men of ability and integrity were deprived of their
employments, to make way for those who were desti-
tute of both.
When virtue and talents are no longer the means
of honour and preferment, they naturally disappear
in the public walks of life: they are only to be found
in the solitary shade. Character ceased to create dis-
tinction. The effect of such a want of sentiment may
easily be conceived. Patriotism became the common
object of ridicule; and virtue and genius were made
the butt of ignorance, dulness and profligacy.
As the manners of the two sexes generally keep
pace with each other, in proportion as the men grew
regardless of character, the women neglected the duties
of their sex. Though little inclined to hoarding, they
are not perhaps less disposed to avarice than men.
Gold to them is desirable, as the minister of vanity,
voluptuousness, and show. It became their supreme
object, and the only source of the matrimonial union,
to the exclusion of that tender sentiment, which alone
can give strength to the sacred tie, or pleasure to the
nuptial state. The young, the beautiful, the health-
ful, were wedded, though not always with their own
consent, to age, deformity, and disease. Virtue was
joined to profligacy, and wantonness to severity.
Such marriages were necessarily destructive of do-
mestic felicity. The want of cordiality at heme, na-
turally leads us abroad; as the want of happiness in
ourselves leads us to seek it in  externals, and to tor-
ture imagination for the gratification of appetites,
which, undepraved, are simple and uniform. New
amusements and societies of pleasure were every day
formed; new modes of dissipation were invented; the
order of nature was changed; night and day were in-
verted; 

160 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
verted; fancy and language were exhausted for names
to the assemblies of politeness and gallantry.
Nothing is so oppressive as time to the unhappy, or
thought to the vacant mind. These were not all enough.
They seemed afraid of themselves, and of each other.
The husband had one set of visitors; the wife another.
He prosecuted his pleasures abroad: She entertained her
friends at home; or resorted to some public amuse-
ment, or private pleasure.
A spirit of gaming, which mingled itself with dissi-
pation and pleasure, afforded a pretence for nocturnal
meetings. And gaming, it must be acknowledged,
discovers the temper, ruffles the passions, corrupts the
heart, and breaks down the strongest barrier of virtue
a decent reserve between the sexes.
At present, we presume, that, notwithstanding the
relaxation of manners, the aversion to whatever is se-
rious, the thirst of admiration, and the neglect of those
qualities which produce esteem, so conspicuous in some;
yet the generality of our fair countrywomen possess
the domestic virtues in a considerable degree of per-
fection. Infidelity is not so common as some libertines
would endeavour to persuade us; and elopements are
stronger proofs of sensibility than the want of shame.
In this island, and even in the metropolis, there are
many women who would have done honour to any age
or country; who join a refined taste and a cultivated
understanding to a feeling heart, and who adorn their
talents and their sensibility with sentiments of virtue,
honour, and humanity. We live women who could
have reasoned with Locke, who might have disputed
the laurel with Pope, and to whom Addison would
have listened with, pleasure.
Even in the middle of opulence, and of that luxury
which too often mingle. avarice with state, which nar-
rows the heart, and makes it at the same time vain and
cruel, we see women who yearly set apart a portion of
their 

161 OF THE FAIR SEX.             
their substance for the poor; who make it their busi-
nes to find out the abodes of misery, and who number
among their pleasure the relief of the orphan and the
tears shed in the consolation of the widow.
CHAP. XLIV.
ON THE PRIVILEGES OF BRITISH WOMEN.
THOUGH the French and Italians are superior
to the inhabitants of Great Britain in politeness
and in elegance, yet the condition of their women,
upon the the whole, is not preferable. Such privileges
and immunities as they derive from the influence of
politeness, the British derive from the laws of their
country.
In France, the Salique law does not allow a
female to inherit the crown. But in England, a wo-
man may be the first personage in the kingdom, may
succeed to the crown in her own right, and in that
case, not bound by any of the laws which restrain
woman, She may enjoy the same powers and privileges
as a king. Such a queen, if she marry, retains also
the same power, issues the orders, and transacts the bu-
siness of the state in her own name, and continues still
the sovereign, while her husband is only a subject.
When a king succeeds in his own right to the
crown, and marries, his queen is then only a subject,
and her right and privilege are not near so extensive.
She is exempted, however, from the general laws,
which exclude married women from having any pro-
perty in their own right. She may sue any person at
law, without joining her husband in the suit; she
P2 may                    

162 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
may purchase lands; She may fell and convey them
to another person, without the interference of her hus-
band; She may have a separate property in goods and
in lands, and may dispose of these by will, as if she
were a single woman. On the commission of any
crime, however, she may be tried and punished by the
peers of the realm.
To violate the chastity of the queen, of the consort
of the prince of Wales, or of the eldest daughter of
the king, although with their own consent, is high
treason, and punishable accordingly. The younger
daughters, as well as sons of the king, are hardly other-
wise distinguished by the laws, than by having the pre-
cedency of all other subjects in public ceremonies.
A peeress when guilty of any crime, cannot be
tried but by the house of peers.
A woman, who is noble in her own right, cannot
lose her nobility by marrying the meanest plebeian.
She communicates her nobility to her children, but not
to her husband.
She who is only ennobled by marrying a peer,
loses that nobility, if she afterwards marry a commoner.
She who first marries a duke or other peer of a su-
perior order, and afterwards a simple baron, is still al-
lowed to retain her first title, and the privileges annexed
to it; for the law considers all peers as equals.
By the courtesy of this country, the wives of baro-
nets are called ladies, a title superior to that of their
husbands, but at the same time a title to which they
have no legal right, being in all judicial writs and pro-
ceedings only denominated Dame such-a-one, accord-
ing to the names of their husbands.
The law of England ordains, that if a man courts a
woman, promises to marry her, and afterwards marries
another, she may, by bringing an action against him,
recover such damages, as a jury shall think adequate to
the loss she has sustained. In Scotland, she may receive
one 

163 OF THE FAIR SEX.
one half of the fortune he receives with his wife. On
the other hand, as it sometimes happens that artful
women draw on the more fond and silly part of our sex
to make them valuable presents under pretence of mar-
riage, and afterwards laugh at or refuse to marry
them;—a man, who has been so bubbled, may sue
the woman to return the presents he made her, because
they were presumed to have been conditionally given,
and she has failed in performing her part of the con-
dition.
Wives cannot be imprisoned for debt, nor deprived
of their personal liberty for any thing but crimes; and
even such of these as subject the offender only to a pecu-
niary punishment must be expiated by the husband.
No married woman is liable to pay any debt, even
though contracted without the knowledge, or against
the content, of her husband. And, what is still more
extraordinary, whatever debts she may have contracted
while single, devolve, the moment of her marriage,
upon the hapless spouse, who, like the scape-goat, is
loaded by the priest who performs the ceremony with
all the sins and extravagances of his wife.
It is a common opinion among the vulgar, that a
general warning in the Gazette, or in a news paper,
will exempt a man from the payment of such debts
as are contracted by his wife without his knowledge.
But this opinion is without any good foundation. Par-
ticular warnings, however, given in writing, have been
held as good exemptions. But such are of little advan-
tage to a husband, as his wife may always find people
to give her credit, whom the husband has not cautioned
against it.
When a husband forces his wife to leave him by
cruel usage, she may claim a separate maintenance;
While she enjoys this, he is not liable to pay any of
her debts.
If 

164 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
If a husband, conscious of having used his wife ill,
will not allow her to go out of his house, or carries
her away, or keeps her concealed, in order to prevent
her endeavouring to find redress of the evils that
she suffers, her friends may, in that case, by applying to
the court of King's Bench, obtain an order for the hus-
band to produce his wife before the said court: and if
she there swears the peace against him, she delivers her-
self from his jurisdiction, and he cannot compel her to
live with him, but the court will grant her an order to
live were she pleases.
Among the Romans, among several other ancient
nations, and among some people in the present times,
it is not deemed culpable for a husband to kill the man
whom he surprises committing adultery with his wife.
By the laws of England, he who kills such a man is
reckoned guilty of manslaughter; but, in consequence of
the great provocation given, the court commonly or-
ders the sentence of burning on the hand to be inflict-
ed in the slightest manner.
A husband is not allowed to leave his wife, without
shewing sufficient cause. For if he does so, she may
enter a suit against him for the restitution of the rights
of marriage; and the spiritual court will compel him
to return, to live with her, and to restore them.
A husband cannot devise by his will such of his wife's
ornaments and jewels as she is accustomed to wear;
though it has been held that he may, if he pleases, dis-
pose of them in his lifetime.
A husband is liable to answer all such actions at law
as were attached against his wife at the time of their
marriage, and also to pay all the debts she had contract-
ed previous to that period. But if his wife shall hap-
pen to die before he has made payment of such debts,
the compact which made them one flesh, and blended
their interests into one, being dissolved, the husband is
thereby absolved from paying her antenuptial debts.
Though 

165 OF THE FAIR SEX.
Though a woman marries the meanest plebeian, she
does not lose the rank which she derived from her birth.
But though she be descended of the lowest of the hu-
man race herself, she may by marriage be raised, in
this country, to any rank beneath the sovereignty.
No woman can by marriage confer a settlement in
any parish on her husband. But every man who has a
legal settlement himself, confers the same settlement by
marriage on his wife.
It is no uncommon thing, in the present times, for
the matrimonial bargain to be made so, as that the wife
shall retain the sole and absolute power of enjoying and
disposing of her own fortune, in the same manner as if
she were not married. But what is more inequitable,
the husband is liable to pay all the debts which his wife
may think proper to burden him with, even though she
have abundance of her own to answer that purpose.
He is also obliged to maintain her, though her cir-
cumstances be more opulent than his; and if he die
before her, she has a right to one third of his real estate.
If, however, she die before him, he is not entitled to
the value of one single halfpenny, unless she has devis-
ed it to him by will.
One of the most peculiar disadvantages in the con-
dition of British women is, their being postponed to
all males in the succession to the inheritance of landed
estates, and generally allowed much smaller shares than
the men even of the money and effects of their fathers
and ancestors, when this money or those effects are gi-
ven them in the lifetime of their parents, or devised to
them by will. If the father, indeed, dies intestate,
they share equally with sons in all personal property.
When an estate, in default of male heirs, descends
to the daughters, the common custom of England is
that the eldest shall not, in the same manner as an eldest
son, inherit the whole, but all the daughters shall have
an equal share in it. Westmoreland, however, and some
other 

l66 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
other places, are exceptions to this general rule. The
eldest daughter, there, succeeds to the whole of the
land, in preference to all the other sisters.
Women are not allowed to be members of our senate,
nor to concern themselves much with our trades and
professions. Both in their virgin and married state, a
perpetual guardianship is, in some measure, exercised
over them: and she who, having laid a husband in the
grave, enjoys an independent fortune, is almost the only
woman among us, who can be called entirely free.
They derive the greater part of the power which they
enjoy, from their charms; and these, when joined to
sensibility, often fully compensate, in this respect, for
the little disadvantages they are laid under by law and
custom.
CHAP. XLV.
ON FEMALE KNOWLEDGE.
SCIENCE is to the mind what light is to the bo-
dy; and a blind is just so much less shocking than
an ignorant woman, as her mental are superior to her
corporeal powers.
This species of accomplishment has been ridiculed,
as raising the sex above that sphere where nature seems
to have fixed their movements. Such is the paradox
which has occasioned so much illiberality and sarcasm,
and on which every woman of more knowledge than
ordinary has been so often represented as a pedant.
Learning, it is also said, would improve women's ta-
lents of address, and only make them worse by ren-
dering them more artful. This is likewise an idea which 
no

167 OF THE FAIR SEX.
no man, who enjoys the conversation and friendship of
modest and good women, ever indulged. Whoever
has the least regard for decency and truth, and is not
destitute of all relish for the happiness which springs
from the chaste sensibilities of an unpolluted heart,
must own he has suffered much more from the selfish-
ness and cunning of men than from any bad qualities in
women. Indeed, the present situation of both, in this
country, renders it impossible to be otherwise. The
masculine character is peculiarly obnoxious to the petri-
fying influence of vulgar opinion. Our young men
are soon intoxicated with the fallacious maxims either
of the gay or the busy world; and both extremes are
equally pernicious to social excellence. Ideas of the
meanest and most sordid tendency absorb their minds
at a very early period, which often render them ever
after callous to the workings of humanity. With a
strong predilection for wealth, independence or liber-
tinism, they cheerfully prostitute all the powers of their
minds and all the feelings of their hearts, in acquiring
one or all of these objects. This unavoidably plunges
them into all the machinations of pride, all the in-
trigues of gallantry, all the intricacies, risques, and
vicissitudes of business. Sentiment consequently loses
its weight, and sensibility its edge. Interest triumphs
in the absence of principle, and nature relinquishes her
dominion to art.
The most engaging dispositions of the female mind
seldom undergo such a total revolution. If we except
a few of the most perverse and unrelenting tempers,
women, who are not flagrantly vicious, have seldom
bad hearts. Their attachments, which constitute the
most comfortable circumstance in domestic life, when
innocent and undissembled, are more lasting and ser-
vent than ours.
Let no ribaldry, therefore, however plausible and
fallacious, divert the attention of females from intel-
lectual 

168 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
lectual improvement. In youth, all the powers of
sensual or pleasurable enjoyments are nature, and de-
cline only as the passions cool. Then let the fair fur-
nish themselves with a stock of other and more dura-
ble materials, that they may live with satisfaction,
when these are no more.
It is when her fibres, and juices, and salts are tender
and genial, that the earth receives her seed, that the
laws of vegetation operate, and that all those plants
take root and spring, which afterwards fill her bosom
with plenty, and her face with beauty. Nor is there
one barren or blighted spot, or any part of her surface
more perfectly black and dismal, than a mind involved
in ignorance, or benumbed with insensibility.
In the season of youth, therefore, ladies should
make it their study to cultivate their minds in such a
manner, as to render their intrinsic value as substantial,
as they wish their exterior to be amiable. Knowledge
improves the human intellect, and endows it with all its
excellence. It unmasks to our view our own natures.
It shews us what we are, and discloses all that can be
hoped or dreaded from the circumstances we are in. By
the regulations it prescribes, and the delicacy it in-
spires, knowledge improves our taste for society,
and imparts a finer relish to all our mutual attachments.
It is the inseparable handmaid of happiness; opens a
thousand avenues to indulgence of the purest and most
exalted kind; unlocks to human view the mysteries of
Providence; creates a heaven on earth; adds to the
joys of the present the hopes of futurity; and when
the objects of this world expire on the senses, fills the
whole heart with the glorious and animating prospects
of another.
Without knowledge the possessions of time were
imperfect, and the presages of eternity unsatisfying.
Speak, ye who are old and uninformed, do not all
things appear insipid? Your passions have lost their
fire, 

169 OF THE FAlR SEX.
fire, your feelings their edge, your very senses the na-
tural relish of their respective objects. Worse, not
better, for all you have seen and heard, in the various
stages of life, your every thought must be as insipid to
others, as it is to yourselves. And, of all the empty
prattle which fills an empty world, that of second
childhood, because least natural and innocent, is most
tiresome and impertinent. Yet, under a hoary head,
the sacred and venerable emblem of wisdom and expe-
rience, how frequently do we meet with nothing but
stupidity, puerility, insignificance, a mind continually
out of humour, and a tongue that never is at rest!
Women can never arrive at that importance seeming-
ly designed them by nature, while their genius is not
cultivated, and their latent qualities called forth into
view. Visible qualities, such as beauty, and the art
of shewing it to advantage, may, in those moments
when the heart is softened by love, or the spirits elevat-
ed by wine, give the women a temporary ascendancy
over the men, and enable them to bend them at plea-
sure; as in the case of Thais and Alexander. Such
an ascendancy, however, is commonly fleeting and transi-
ent. Cool reason soon resumes the place which passion
had usurped; and the empire, which had been built on
passion, tumbles like the baseless fabric of a vision; while
that which is supported by mental beauties, stands the
test of time, and the various incidents of life.
The sum of all human prudence is to provide against
the worst. Personal beauty soon dies; but that which
is intellectual is immortal. And though age be almost
every where attended with gray hairs, shattered teeth,
dim eyes, trembling joints, short breath, stiff limbs,
and a shrivelled skin—there is a charm in wisdom, which,
with all these melancholy circumstances, diffuses a
pleasing serenity over the evening of our days. In-
deed, nothing is so truly respectable at this period of
humanity, when dignified, as it ought to be, by all
Q the 

170 HISTORICAL SKETCHES.
the habits and principles of genuine benignity and ho-
nour. Age is then wisdom combined with experience.
It is the very spirit or sum of all earthly perfection.
It is an emblem, or earnest, of that future and divine
fruition, which is the certain consequence, and happy
consummation, of all mental and moral excellence.
Thus it is from knowledge alone, that the greatest
and the best have found even solitude and retirement so
singularly charming, and that the decline of life, with
all its infirmities, so frequently glides away amidst the
sweetest endearments and the serenest hopes. It is this
which constitutes the only real and lasting distinction,
which can subsist between mortals of the same species;
which neither rank, nor title, nor fortune, however
high or splendid, can destroy or confer; and which,
on every emergency, gives an obvious and decided su-
periority to wealth, or power, or grandeur. By know-
ledge, women, as well as men, share the prerogative
of intelligence, hold the dominion of the world, boast
the lineaments of divinity, and aspire to an imitation
of him who made them!
CHAP. XLVI.
OF FEMALE CULTURE AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS, IN
DIFFERENT AGES.
AMONG the Greeks, their mothers, or other fe-
male relations, taught young ladies the common
female employments and customs of their country, and
instilled into the minds of such as would receive it, a
tincture of that stoical pride and heroism, for which
their men were so much renowned. In every thing
else                                                

171 OF THE FAIR SEX.
else they were very deficient, and their constant con-
finement added want of knowledge of the world to their
want of education.
In the earlier periods of the great republic of Rome,
the Romans being poor, and surrounded with rude and
ferocious neighbours like themselves, were obliged to
learn rigid œconomy, inflexible patriotism, and the
art of war. These are all virtues of necessity in the
infancy of almost every state.
The duties and employments of domestic life, such
as cookery, spinning, weaving, and sewing, were
taught the Roman women by their mothers or rela-
tions. These also superintended not only their serious
studies, but even their amusements, which were al-
ways conducted with decency and moderation. But
when the Romans became rich with the plunder of
their neighbours, the taste for the arts and sciences
became more general. The education of the women,
therefore, began to be extended on a larger scale. To
the domestic duties, taught them by their mothers,
were added such parts of polite education as were
thought necessary for cultivating their minds.
Cicero mentions, with high encomiums, several
ladies, whose taste in eloquence and philosophy did
honour to their sex; and Quinctilian, with considerable
applause, has quoted some of the letters of Cornelia.
There is a speech of Hortensia, preserved by Ap
pian, which for elegance of language, justness of
thought, would have done honour to a Cicero, or a
Demosthenes. What gave occasion to this speech,
was the following circumstance: the triumvirs of
Rome wanted a large sum of money for carrying on a
war, and having met with great difficulties in raising
it, they drew up a list of fourteen hundred of the rich-
est of the ladies, intending to tax them. These ladies,
after having in vain tried every method to evade so
great an innovation: at last chose Hortensia for their
speaker, 

172 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
speaker, and went along with her to the market-
place, were she thus addressed the triumvirs, while
they were administering justice.
" The unhappy women you see here imploring
your justice and bounty, would never have presumed
to appear in this place, had they not first made use of
all other means, which their natural modesty could
suggest to them. Though our appearing may seem
contrary to the rules of decency prescribed to our sex,
which we have hitherto observed with all strictness;
yet the loss of our fathers, children, brothers, and hus-
bands, may sufficiently excuse us, especially when their
unhappy deaths are made a pretence for our further
misfortunes. You pretend they had offended and
provoked you. But what injury have we women
done, that we must be impoverished? If we are blame-
able as the men, why do you not proscribe us too?
Have we declared you enemies to your country? Have
we suborned your soldiers, raised troops against you,
or opposed you in the pursuits of those honours and
offices which you claim? We pretend not to govern
the republic; nor is it our ambition, which has drawn
the present misfortunes on our heads. Empire, dig-
nities, and honours are not for us. Why should we
then contribute to a war, in which we have no manner
of interest?
" It is true, indeed, that in the Carthaginian war,
our mothers assisted the republic, which was, at that
time, reduced to the utmost distress. But neither
their houses, their lands, nor their moveables, were
sold for that service. Some rings and a few jewels
furnished the supply. Nor was it constraint, nor vio-
lence, that forced these from them. What they con-
tributed was the voluntary offering of generosity.
" What danger at present threatens Rome? If the
Gauls, or Parthians, were encamped on the banks of
the Tiber, or the Anio, you should find us no less zea-
lous 

173 OF THE FAIR SEX.
lous in the defence of our country, than our mothers.
were before us. But it becomes not us; and we are
resolved that we will not be any way concerned in
civil war.
" Neither Marius, nor Cæsar nor Pompey, ever
thought of obliging us to take part in the domestic
troubles, which their ambition had raised. even
Sylla himself, who first set up tyranny in Rome, never
harboured such an intention. And yet you assume the
glorious title of Reformers of the State! a title which
will turn to your eternal infamy; if, without the least
regard to the laws of equity, you persist in your wick-
ed resolution of plundering those of their lives and for-
tunes, who have given you no just cause of offence."
The triumvirs being offended at the boldness of the
women, ordered them to be driven away. But the
populace growing tumultuous, they were afraid of an
insurrection, and reduced the list of the women to be
taxed to four hundred.
During the reign of chivalry in Europe, women
endeavoured only to acquire such accomplishments
as would excite heroes to fight for, and lovers to adore
them. So far were they from possessing any literary
attainments, that they could hardly read the language
of their respective countries.
In the following age, the ladies found that the same
arts which captivated a knight clad in armour and
ignorance, were in vain practised upon the enlight-
ened scholar and philosopher. Being conscious, there-
fore, that the way to please the men was to seem fond
of what they approved of, and dislike what they dis-
liked, they applied themselves to letters and philo-
sophy, hoping to keep possession, by their talents, of
what they had gained by their charms. Though these
measures were not calculated to inspire love, and attract
the heart, and consequently did not produce the effects
Q2 which 

174 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
which the ladies intended, yet they raised them in that
period to a pitch of learning, unknown in any other.
A love of gaiety, expence, and parade, was intro-
duced into Europe, by the immense treasures of gold
and silver imported from America, after the discovery
and conquest of that country; and, perhaps, by the
fall greater riches accumulated by commerce. The
French took the lead in this new mode of life, and
soon disseminated it all over Europe. The education
of their women, which before consisted in reading
their own language, and in learning needle-work, was by
degrees changed to vocal and instrumental music,
dancing, and dressing in the most fashionable manner;
to which may be added, the art of captivating and
governing their men. This flimsy pattern was copied
by every other nation.
In Asia and Africa, it is the interest of the men
that almost no culture should be bestowed on the
minds of their females, left it should teach them to
assert their rights of nature, and refuse to submit to the  
yoke of bondage so unjustly imposed upon them.
They are, however, taught all the personal graces;
raid particular care is taken to instruct them in the
art of converting with elegance and vivacity. Some
of them are also taught to write, and the generality
to read, that they may be able to read the Koran.
But, instead of this, they more frequently spend their
time in reading tales and romances; which, being re-
lated in all the lively imagery of the east, seldom fail
to corrupt the minds of creatures shut up from the
world, and consequently forming to themselves extra-
vagant and romantic notions of all that is transacted
in it.
Though they are never permitted to attend public
worship in a mosque, they are obliged to learn by heart
some prayers in Arabic, which they assemble in a hall
at certain hours to repeat. They are enjoined always
to 

175 OF THE FAIR SEX.
to wash themselves before praying; and, indeed, the
virtues of cleanliness, of chastity, and obedience, are
so strongly and constantly inculcated on their minds,
that, in spite of their general corruption of manners,
there are several among them who, in their common de-
portment, do credit to the instructions bestowed upon
them. This indeed is not much to be wondered at,
when we consider the tempting recompence that is held
out to them. They are, in paradise, to flourish for
ever, in the vigour of youth and beauty; and how-
ever old, ugly, or deformed, when they depart this
life, are there to be immediately transformed into all
that is fair, and all that is graceful.
It is a very laborious task to learn to read or write the
Chinese language. Even among the men, it seems chiefly
confined to such as aspire after employments of state.
Women are seldom much instructed in it. Such as are
rich, however, learn music, the modes of behaviour,
and ceremonial punctilios of the country. The last of
these cannot possibly be dispensed with. A failure in
the least circumstance, as the number of bows, or the
manner of making them, to a superior, would infal-
libly stamp the mark of ignorance on the person so fail-
ing. Women are, in general, also taught a bashful-
ness and modesty of behaviour, not to be met with in
any other country.
In many parts of North-America, they never beat
their children of either sex. This, they say, would
only weaken and dispirit their minds, without produc-
ing any good effect. When, therefore, a mother sees
her daughter behave ill, instead of having recourse to
a rod, she falls a-crying. The daughter naturally en-
quires the cause. The mother answers, because you
disgrace me. This reproach seldom fails to produce
an amendment.
Gentle treatment of children, we are informed, is
absolutely necessary. The punishments inflicted in
most

176 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
most other nations, only make the Japanese more stub-
born and refractory; and sometimes there, as well as
in America, provoke them to commit suicide.
The sum of what has been said is this:—The edu-
cation of women in Europe is perhaps too much cal-
culated to inspire them with love of admiration, of
trifling, and of amusement. In most other places of
the globe it is infinitely worse. It tends to eradicate
every moral sentiment, and introduce vice dressed up
in the garb of voluptuous refinement.
That women should pore out their fair eyes in be-
coming adepts in learning, would be highly improper.
Nature seems not to have intended them for the more
intense and severe studies. The gaining of the lau-
rels of literary same would rob their brows of many of
those charms, which to them are more valuable, as they
are by men more esteemed. Ignorance makes a female
contemptible, pedantry makes her ridiculous. Both
extremes should be avoided.
CHAP. XLVII.
ON THE NECESSARY MENTAL ACCOMPLISHMENTS
OF LADIES.
THE degree of those intellectual accomplishments,
which women should aim at, it is not easy to
determine. That must depend on the capacities, op-
portunities, and encouragements which they severally
enjoy.
History, in which may be included biography and
memoirs, ought to employ a considerable share of fe-
male attention. Those pictures which it exhibits, of
the

177 OF THE FAIR SEX.
the passions operating in real life, and genuine cha-
racters; of virtues to be imitated, and of vices to be
shunned; of the effects of both on society and indivi-
duals; of the mutability of human affairs; of the
conduct of divine providence; of the great conse-
quences that often arise from little events; of the
weakness of power, and the wanderings of prudence,
in the human race; with the sudden, unexpected, and
frequently unaccountable revolutions, that dash trium-
phant wickedness, or disappoint presumptuous hope—
the pictures which history exhibits of all these, have
been ever reckoned, by the best judges, among the
richest sources of instruction and entertainment.
Voyages and travels, too, are very instructive and
entertaining. How amusing are they to the curiosity,
how enlarging to our prospects of mankind! They
interest the mind as much as a novel. They make
it usefully inquisitive and furnish it with matter for
reflection.
There is not a son nor daughter of Adam that has
not occasion for geography. It is often useful in con-
versation; and a competent knowledge of it may be
acquired with little application, but much amusement.
The principal facts or great outlines of astronomy,
are beautiful, as well as improving. Some of them
present the most interesting scenes. All contain the
most pleasing discoveries. They open and enlarge
the mind; they dilate and humanize the heart; they
remind us that we are citizens of the universe; they
shew us how small a part we fill in the immense orb of
being. Amidst the amplitude of such contemplations,
superfluous titles shrink away. Wealth and grandeur
" hide their diminished heads." A generous ambition
rises in the thoughtful mind, to approve itself to the
all-inspecting eye of him, to whom none of his works
are indifferent.
In 

178 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
In poetry of all kinds, but chiefly of the sublimer
forms, where nature, virtue, and religion are painted
and embellished with all the beauties of a chaste, yet
elevated imagination, what a field is opened within
the reach, and adapted to the turn of the female fa-
culties! What a profusion of intellectual ornament
is spread before them, for memory to collect, and for
reflection to work upon! How many sprightly, de-
lightful, and losty ideas do here pass before the mental
eye, all dressed in the brightest colours! How strange-
ly inexcusable must those be, who complain at any
time of want of amusement, when the genius and
invention of every illuminated age have taken such
happy pains to supply the noblest.
How much are both sexes indebted to the elegant
pens of the Spectator, Rambler, Adventurer, Connoisseur,
Idler, &c. for a species of instruction, better fitted
perhaps than most others of human device, to delight
and improve at the same moment! Such is its extent,
its diversity, its familiarity, its case, its playful man-
ner, its immediate reference to scenes and circum-
stances, with which we are every day conversant.
There are few  novels that can be read with safety;
and fewer still that convey any useful instruction. But
as ladies will read novels, the best and most innocent
productions of this kind are those of Mr. Richardson,
Mr. Cumberland, and Miss Burney; Mrs. Helme's
Louisa, and Miss Blower's Features from Life: the
Recess, Caroline of Lichtfield, the Vicar of Wakefield,
and a few others.
The most obvious branches both of natural philo-
sophy, and natural history, should engage, at least,
some portion of time. That they are so seldom, and
so slightly thought of, is rather a melancholy reflection.
Does creation, through her infinitely extended and
infinitely diversified scenery, display innumerable won-
ders? Have these been traced with skill and accu-
racy 

179 OF THE FAIR SEX.
racy by many learned and many laborious hands? Are
they laid open to us, and almost pressed upon us, from
every quarter? And can we, with a giddy eye, turn
away from this noble and entertaining spectacle, to
gaze on the meanest ornament of beauty, or the silliest
pageant of vanity?
Whilst I am on this subject, I cannot help taking
notice of Mr. Dinwiddie's superior talents, and lau-
dable exertions in this branch of science; who, at his
lecture-room in Portugal-Street, Lincolns-Inn-Fields,
blends the most ingenious remarks with the most use-
ful and entertaining experiments, to a genteel, atten-
tive, and often astonished audience of both sexes.
Where can any evening be spent to better purpose?
The French and Italian, as well as the Latin and
Greek languages may be read by the fair sex with
much pleasure and advantage. By this means their
taste will be improved, and a never-failing source of
instruction will be opened. Several ladies of rank and
fashion, of the present day, make Virgil and Homer
their companions, two or three mornings every week.
The theatre, which by the indefatigable labour of
the late Mr. Garrick is brought to very great per-
fection, affords an equally rational and improving en-
tertainment. The judgment of ladies is not now
called in question, their understanding is not affronted,
nor is their modesty offended, by the indecent ribaldry
of those authors, who to their defect in wit have
added the want of good sense and of good manners.
Faults of this kind, that, from a blameable compli-
ance with a corrupted taste, have sometimes crept into
the works of good writers, are now generally recti-
fied or omitted on the stage. Since, however, there
are some exceptionable plays, it is better to be present
only at those, which are approved by persons of under-
standing and virtue, as calculated to answer the proper
end 

180 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
end of the theatre, namely, that of conveying in-
struction in the most pleasing method.
Tragedy is designed to ennoble, refine, and expand
the best affections of the heart, to render our natures
susceptible and sympathetic, and to teach by example
the most interesting lessons of humanity.
Comedy has a tendancy to familiarize the ductile
minds of young ladies to what may be called the ele-
gant and fashionable minutiæ of life. The best defi-
nition of this species of the drama perhaps is, that,
when properly executed, it consists in a just exhibition
of the truest politeness, not extracted from the dull
prescriptions of formal pedagogues, but as daily prac-
tised by the genteelest company.
One half hour, or more, either before or immedi-
ately after breakfast, should be constantly devoted to
the attentive perusal of some part of Holy Writ. It is
the basis on which our religion is founded. From this
practice more real benefit will be reaped, than can
be supposed by those who have never made the expe-
riment.
The scriptures present religion to us in the most
engaging dress. They communicate truths, which
philosophy could never investigate, and in a style,
which poetry can never equal. Calculated alike to
profit and to please, they inform the understanding,
elevate the affections, and entertain the imagination.
Indited under the influence of him, to whom all
hearts are known, and all events foreknown, they suit
mankind in all situations, grateful as the manna that
decended from above, and conformed itself to every
palate.
The fairest productions of human wit, after a few
perusals, like gathered flowers, wither in our hands,
and lose their fragrance. But the scriptures, those
unfading plants of paradise, the more we are accustom-
ed to them, become still more and more beautiful.
Their 

181 OF THE FAIR SEX.
Their bloom appears to be daily heightened. Fresh
odours are diffused, and new sweets extracted from
them.
The scriptures have been studied and admired by
the greatest and best of men, as well as women. What-
ever instruction or amusement may be derived from
human compositions, let it always be remembered,
that the sacred writings alone contain that wisdom,
" which maketh wise unto salvation."
Controversy on religious subjects should never be
meddled with. Such books only ought to be read as
me addressed to the heart, inspire pious and devout af-
fections, and tend to regulate the conduct.
CHAP. XLVIII.
ON THE MONASTIC LIFE.
THE venerable Bede has given us a very striking
picture of monastic enormities, in his epistle to
Ecgbert. From this we learn, that many young men,
who had no title to the monastic profession, got pos-
session of monasteries; where, instead of engaging in
the defence of their country, as their age and rank
required, they indulged themselves in the most dissolute
indolence.
We learn from Dugdale, that, in the reign of Henry
the Second, the nuns of Amsbury abbey in Wiltshire
were expelled from that religious house, on account of
their incontinence. And, to exhibit in the most lively
colours the total corruption of monastic chastity, bishop
Burnet informs us, in his History of the Reformation,
that when the nunneries were visited by the command
R of 

182 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
of Henry the Eighth," whole houses almost were
" found, whose vows had been made in vain."
When we consider to what oppressive indolence, to
what a variety of wretchedness and guilt, the young
and fair inhabitants of the cloister were frequently be-
trayed, we ought to admire those benevolent authors,
who, when the tide of religious prejudice ran very
strong in favour of monastic virginity, had spirit enough
to oppose the torrent, and to caution the devout and
tender sex against so dangerous a profession. It is in
this point of view that the character of Erasmus ap-
pears with the most amiable lustre; and his name ought
to be eternally dear to the female world in particular.
Though his studies and constitution led him almost to
idolize those eloquent fathers of the church, who have
magnified this kind of life, his good sense, and his ac-
curate survey of the human race, enabled him to judge
of the misery in which female youth was continually
involved by a precipitate choice of the veil. He knew
the successful arts by which the subtle and rapacious
monks inveigled young women of opulent families into
the cloister; and he exerted his lively and delicate wit
in opposition to so pernicious an evil.
The writirgs of many eminent authors have been
levelled against the abuses of the monastic life. But
several of these, like the noted work of the humour-
ous Rabelais, appear to have flowed from a spirit as
wanton and licentious, as ever lurked in a convent. It
is not thus with Erasmus. His productions are writ-
ten with admirable pleasantry, and seem to have been
dictated by a chaste and angelic desire to promote the
felicity of the fair sex.
In those nations of Europe where nunneries still
exist, how many lovely victims are continually sacri-
ficed to the avarice or absurd ambition of inhuman pa-
rents! The misery of these victims has been painted
with great force by some benevolent writers of France.
In 

183 OF THE FAIR SEX.
In most of those pathetic histories that are founded
on the abuse of convents, the misery originates from
the parent, and falls upon the child. Thee reverse has
sometimes happened; and there are examples of un-
happy parents, who have been rendered miserable by
the religious perversity of a daughter. In the four-
teenth volume of that very amusing work, Les Causes
Célébres, a work which is said to have been the fa-
voirite reading of Voltaire, there is a striking history
of a girl underage, who was tempted by pious artifice
to settle herself in a convent, in express opposition to
parental authority. He parents, who had in vain
tried the most tender persuasion, endeavoured at last
to redeem their lost child, by a legal process against
the nunnery in which she was imprisoned. The plead-
ings on this remarkable trial may, perhaps, be justly
reckoned among the finest pieces of eloquence that
the lawyers of France have produced. Monsieur Gil-
let, the advocate for the parents, represented, in the
boldest and most affecting language, the extreme base-
ness of this religion, seduction. His eloquence ap-
peaed to have fixed the sentiments of the judges;
but the cause of superstition was pleaded by an advo-
cate of equal power, and it finally prevailed. The un-
fortunate parents of Marie Vernal (for this was the
name of the deluded girl) were condemned to resign
her for ever, and to make a considerable payment to
those artful devotees who had piously robbed them of
their child.
When we reflect on the various evils that have arisen
in convents, we have the strongest reason to rejoice
and glory in that reformation, by which the nunneries
of England were abolished. Yet it would not be can-
did or just to consider all these as the mere harbours
of licentiousness; since we are told that, at the time
of their suppression, some of our religions houses were
very honourably distinguished by the purity of their
inhabitants.

184 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
inhabitants." The visitors," says bishop Burnett,
" interceded earnestly for one nunnery in Oxfordshire,
" Godstow, where there was great strictness of life,
" and to which most of the young gentlewomen of the
" country were sent to be bred; so that the gentry of
" the country desired the king would spare the house:
" yet all was ineffectual."
In this point of view, much, undoubtedly, may be
said in favour of convents. Yet, when the arguments
on both sides are fairly weighed, it is presumed, that
every true friend to female innocence will rejoice in
those sensible regulations which our Catholic neigh-
bours have lately made respecting nunneries, and which
seem to promise their universal abolition.
As convents, for many ages, were the treasures of
all the learning that remained upon earth, one is ra-
ther surprised to find so few monastic ladies, who have
bequeathed to the world any literary production. Per-
haps, indeed, many a fair and chaste author has ex-
isted, whose name and works have been unjustly buried
in sudden oblivion.
Juana Inez de la Cruz, a native of the New Hemi-
sphere, was so eminent for her poetical talents, that
she has been honoured with the title of a Tenth Muse.
A short account of this lady, not much known in
Europe, with a specimen of her poetry,  will no doubt
be acceptable to female readers.
Juana was born, in November 1651, at the distance
of a few leagues from the city of Mexico. Her father
was one of the many Spanish gentlemen, who fought
to, improve a scanty fortune by an establishment in
America, where he married a lady of that country,
descended from Spanish  parents. Their daughter
Juana was distinguished in her infancy by an uncom-
mon passion for literature, and a wonderful facility in
the composition of Spanish verses. Her parents sent
her, when fine was eight years old, to reside with her
uncle 

185 OF THE FAIR SEX.
uncle in the city of Mexico. She had there the ad-
vantage of a learned education; and, as her extraordi-
nary talents attracted universal regard, she was patron-
ised by the lady of the viceroy, the marquis de Man-
cera, and, at the age of seventeen, was received into
his family. A Spanish encomiast of Juana relates a
remarkable anecdote, which, he says, was commu-
nicated to him by the viceroy himself. That noble-
man, astonished by the extensive learning of young
Juana, invited forty of the most eminent literati that
his country could afford, to try the extent and soli-
dity of Juana's erudition. The young female scholar
was freely but politely questioned, on the different
branches of science, by theologians, philosophers, ma-
thematicians, historians, and poets; " and as a royal
" galleon," says our Spanish author, "would defend
" herself against a few scallots that might attack her,
" so did Juana Inez extricate herself from the various
" questions, arguments, and rejoinders, that each in
" his own province proposed to her."
The applause which she received, on this signal dis-
play of her accomplishments, was far from inspiring
the modest Juana with vanity or presumption. In-
deed, a pious humility was her most striking charact-
eristic. Her life amounted only to forty-four years;
and of these she passed twenty-seven, distinguished by
the most exemplary exercise of all the religious virtues,
in the convent of St. Geronimo, Her delight in books
was extreme, and she is said to have possessed a library
of four thousand volumes; but towards the close of
her life she made a striking sacrifice to charity, by selling
her darling books for the relief of the poor. Few
female authors have been more celebrated in life, or in
death more lamented. The collection of her works,
in three quarto volumes, contains a number of pane-
gyrics, in verse and prose, bestowed on this chaste po-
etess by most illustrious characters both of Old and
R New

186 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
New Spain. The most sensible of the Spanish critics,
father Feyjoo, has made this general remark on Ju-
ana's compositions—" that they excel in ease and ele-
gance" but are deficient in energy; a failing the
more remarkable, as the pious enthusiasm of this poet-
ical nun was so great, that she wrote in her own blood
a profession of her faith. It may be observed, howe-
ver, in answer to her critic, that most of Juana's ver-
ses are written on subjects, where poetical energy was
not to be expected. Many of her poems are occasion-
al compliments to her particular friends; and, in her
sacred dramas, the absurd superstitions of her country
were sufficient to annihilate all poetical sublimity.
In one of her short productions, she describes the
injustice of men towards her own sex. An imitation
of this performance, in English, is as follows:
I.
" * Weak men! who without reason aim
" To load poor woman with abuse,
" Not seeing that yourselves produce
" The very evils that you blame;
II.
" You 'gainst her firm resistance strive;
" And, having struck her judgment mute,
" Soon to her levity impute
" What from your labour you derive.
III.
" Of woman's weakness much afraid,
" Of your own prowess still you boast;
" Like the vain child who makes a ghost,
" Then fears what he himself has made,
* Hombres necios, que acusais
Ala muger sin razon;
Sin ver, que sois la occasion
De lo nismo, que culpais, &c.
IV. "Her 

187 OF THE TAIR SEX.
IV.
" Her, whom your arms have once embrac'd,
" You think presumptuously to find,
" When she is woo'd, as Thais kind,
" When wedded, as Lucretia chaste,
V.                    
" How rare a fool must be appear,
" Whose folly mounts to such a pass,
" That first he breathes upon the glass,
" Then grieves because it is not clear!
VI.                    
" Still with unjust, ungrateful pride,
" You meet both favour and disdain;
" The firm as cruel you arraign,
" The tender you as weak deride.
VII.
" Your foolish humour none can please;
" Since, judging all with equal phlegm,
" One for her rigor you condemn,
" And one you censure for her ease.
VIII.
" What wondrous gifts must her adorn,
" Who would your lasting love engage,
" When rigorous nymphs excite your rage,
" And easy fair ones raise your scorn!
IX.
" But while you shew your pride or pow'r,
" With tyrant passions vainly hot,
" She's only blest who heeds you not,
" And leaves you all in happy hour."
CHAP. 

188 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. XLIX.
ON SENTIMENTAL ATTACHMENT.
LOVE, perhaps, sweetens and expands the feel-
ings more than any passion whatever. Being a
composition of all the tender, of all the humane and
disinterested virtues, it calls forth at once all their 
soft ideas, and exerts all their good offices.
The ingenious Mr. Sterne, author of Tristram
Shandy, used to say, that "he never felt the vibra-
tions of his heart so much in unison with virtue, as
when he was in love; and that whenever he did a mean
or unworthy action, on examining himself strictly, he
found that at that time he was loose from every senti-
mental attachment to the fair sex."
The declaration of this social and benevolent passion
to the object that inspires it, is what we commonly
call courtship; and the time of this courtship, not-
withstanding the many embarrassments and uneasines-
ses which attend it, is generally considered as one of
the happiest periods of human life, at least so long as
the lover is supported by hope, that pleasing delirium
of the soul.
The interference of parents, however, in order to
prevent the union of lovers, is often attended with
serious consequences; as the two following stories suf-
ficiently evince.
CHAP. 

189 OF THE FAIR SEX.
CHAP. L.
HONORIO and ELIZA.
A VERY BATHETIC STORY.
HONORIO was the son of a London merchant,
bred up to the business of his father, to which
he succeeded in his early youth: and in a little time
distinguished himself, not only by his knowledge in
trade, but also by his probity of heart, and generosity
of sentiment. Nor was he deficient in personal ac-
complishments. His figure was remarkably agreea-
ble; his address was engaging; and no pains had been
spared in giving him the advantage of a genteel educa-
tion.
He was in a fair way of acquiring a very large for-
tune, when he first beheld, at a public assembly, the
elegant and amiable Eliza, daughter of an eminent
trader, to whom his circumstances were well known.
He was deeply struck with her external appearance;
and, having found means to insinuate himself into her
acquaintance, discovered a thousand charms in her un-
derstanding and disposition, which at once completed
the conquest of his heart. It was long before he
disclosed his passion to the dear object, and had the
ravishing pleasure to find he had inspired her with very
favourable sentiments of his character.
After some time spent in the endearing effusions of
mutual love, he applied to the father, and made a
formal demand of her in marriage. His proposal met
with a very cordial reception; and Honorio was ad-
mitted into the family, on the footing of a future son-
in-law. The day was already appointed for the mar-
riage, after all the articles of interest had been settled
to the satisfaction of both parties; when, by the sud- 
den

190 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
den failure of foreign correspondents at the close of
the last war, Honorio was obliged to stop payment.
He communicated his distress to Eliza's father; and
produced his books, by which it appeared that his
effects were more than sufficient to discharge his debts,
though they were so scattered that he could not col-
lect them in time enough to support his credit.
The merchant said he was sorry for his misfortune,
but made no offer of assistance. On the contrary, he
told him bluntly that he could not expect he would
bestow his daughter on a bankrupt, and forbade him
the house.
The reader may conceive what an effect this treat-
ment had upon an ingenuous mind, endued with an
extraordinary share of sensibility. He retired to his
own house, while his heart was bursting with grief and
indignation.
The generous Eliza, being apprised of what had
passed between her father and her lover, seized the first;
opportunity of writing a letter to Honorio, lamenting
his misfortune in the most pathetic terms, assuring him
of her inviolable attachment, and offering to give a
convincing proof of her love by a clandestine marriage.
He made due acknowledgments to his amiable mis-
tress for this mark of disinterested affection; but abso-
lutely refused to comply with a proposal, which might
ruin her fortune, endanger her happiness, and subject
him to the imputation of being sordid and selfish.
He made haste to settle his accounts, and satisfy his
creditors. Then he wrote a letter to Eliza, releasing
her from all engagements in his favour, and exhorting
her to forget that ever such a person existed.
Immediately after this address he disappeared, and
no person could tell in what manner. People, in ge-
neral, supposed he had made away with himself in de-
spair.
Eliza 

191 OF THE FAIR SEX.
Eliza was overwhelmed with the most poignant sor-
row, which entailed upon her a lingering distemper,
that brought her to the brink of the grave.
Though nature triumphed over the disease, it was
not in the power of time to remove her grief, which
settled into a fixed  melancholy, that clouded all her
charms, and made a deep impression on her father's
heart.
Her only brother dying of a consumption, she be-
came the sole heiress of a considerable fortune; and
many advantageous matches were proposed without ef-
fect.
At length, she plainly told her father, that he had
once made her miserable, and it was not now in his
power to make her happy; for she had made a solemn
vow to heaven, that she would never join her fate to
any other man but him on whom he had allowed her to
bestow her affection.
The merchant was thunder-struck at this declara-
tion. He saw himself deprived, by his own cruel
avarice, of that happiness with which he had flattered
himself, in the hope of enjoying a rising generation of
his own posterity. He became pensive and sullen, lost
his sense, and in a few months expired.
Eliza purchased a retired house in the country,
where she gave a full scope to her sorrow; while she
lived the life of a saint, and spent the best part of her
time, as well as fortune, in the exercise of charity and
benevolence: witness the sighs that are still uttered by
all that knew her, when her name is pronounced: wit-
ness the tears of the widow and the fatherless that are
daily shed upon her tomb.
Honorio, desparate in his fortune and his love, took
a passage in a Spanish ship for Cadiz, under the name
of Benson; and, as he understood the language, as
well as the management of accompts, he was admitted,
as

192 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
as an inferior factor, on board of the Flota, bound for
South America.
He settled at La Vera Cruz; and fortune so pros-
pered his endeavours, that, in a few years, he was
master of forty thousand pistoles.
But neither prosperity, nor the universal esteem he
had acquired among the Spaniards for his worth and
integrity, could sooth the anguish of his heart, or ef-
face the remembrance of Eliza, whose charms still
dwelt upon his imagination.
At length, impatient of living so long in ignorance
of her situation, he remitted his effects to Europe, re-
turned to Cadiz, and there, in a British bottom, took
shipping for England.
At the Race of Portland the ship was attacked by
a paltry French privateer; and Honorio had the mis-
fortune to receive a shot in his neck, which appeared
very dangerous.
After the privateer had sheered off, he desired that
he might be put ashore at the nearest land, as there was
no surgeon on board; and the boat immediately con-
veyed him and part of his baggage into a creek, within
half a mile of Eliza's dwelling.
He was obliged to take up his lodgings at a wretched
public house, and dispatched an express to the next
town for a surgeon; but, before he arrived, the unfor-
tunate Honorio had lost his eye-sight in consequence
of his wound, and his fever was considerably increased.
The humane Eliza, being made acquainted with the
circumstances of his distress, without dreaming it was
her beloved Honorio, desired a worthy old clergyman,
who was rector of the parish, to take her chariot, and
bring the wounded man to her house, where he might
be properly attended and accommodated.
Thither he was carried accordingly, and there first
visited by the surgeon; who, after having dressed the
wound, declared he had no hopes of his recovery.
He               

193 OF THE FAIR SEX.             
He heard the sentence without emotion; and desir-
ed he might have an opportunity to thank the lady of
the house for the charitable compassion she had mani-
fested towards a stranger in distress.
The tender-hearted Eliza being informed of his re-
quest, immediately visited him in his apartment, ac-
companied by the clergyman, and a female relation who
lived with her as her companion.
Approaching his bed-side, she condoled with him on
his misfortune, begged he would think himself at
home, and command every thing in her house as freely
as if it were his own.
He no sooner heard her voice than he started; and
raising himself in his bed, rolled his eyes around, as if
in quest of some favourite object.
His ear was more faithful than his memory. He re-
numbered and was affected by the strain, though he
could not recollect the ideas to which it had been an-
nexed.
After some pause he exclaimed, " Excellent lady!
" I could wish to live in order to express my gratitude.
" But it will not be.—You have given shelter to a
" poor wearied pilgrim, and your charity must be still
" farther extended, in seeing his body committed to
the dust.
" I have, moreover, another favour to ask, namely,
" that you and this good clergyman will attest my list
" will, which is locked in a paper case, deposited in
" my portmanteau."
So saying, he delivered the key to the doctor, who
opened the trunk, found the paper, and was desired to
read it aloud in the hearing of ail present.
The will was written by the hand of Honorio him-
self, who, in consideration of his tender affection for
the incomparable Eliza, which nothing but death
should erase from his heart, had bequeathed to her all
S his 

194 HISTORICAL SKETCHES.
his worldly substance, exclusive of some charitable le-
gacies,
When the name of Honorio was pronounced, Eliza
started, grew pale, and trembled with strong emotion.
She considered, however, his situation, and restrained
her transports, while her eyes poured forth a torrent
of tears, and the chair shook under her, with the
violence of her agony.
The humane clergyman was not unmoved at this
scene. He had often heard the story of her unfor-
tunate love, and by his sensible consolations enabled
her to bear her affliction with temper and resignation.
He no sooner perceived the names of Honorio and
Eliza in the will, than he was seized with extreme
wonder and sympathizing sorrow. His voice faultered.
The tears ran down his cheeks, and it was with the
utmost difficulty that he read the paper to an end.
Then observing the agitation of Eliza, he conducted
Eliza into another room, where, her grief and surprise
becoming too strong for her constitution, she fainted
away in the arms of her companion.
When she recovered from her swoon, she gave vent
to her sorrow, in a loud passion of tears and excla-
mation. She afterwards beer me more calm; and beg-
ged the doctor would endeavour to prepare Honorio
for an interview with his long lost Eliza. He forth-
with returned to the merchant; but was in too much
confusion to communicate the discovery with discre-
tion and composure.
Honorio, though blind, had perceived the lady's
agitation, as well as the clergyman's disorder, and
was not a little surprised at their abrupt departure.
His mind already formed an assemblage of the
most interesting ideas before the doctor returned; and
when he began to expatiate on the mysterious ways
of Providence, he was interrupted by the stranger,
who, raising his head, and clasping his hand, ex-
claimed 

195 OF THE FAIR SEX.
claimed aloud—“ O bountiful Heaven—it must be the
“ incomparable Eliza!”
At that instant she entered the apartment, kneeled
by the bedside, and taking him by the hand, cried
out,—“ It's, indeed, the unfortunate Eliza—O my
“ Honorio! Is it thus we meet!”
A long silence ensured, during which he bathed her
hand with tears. At length he spoke to this effect:—
“ These are not the tears of sorrow, but of joy.—
“ Eliza then lives!— she remembers—she retains her
“ regard for the hapless Honorio!—It was indeed the
“ kind hand of Providence that threw me on this hos-
“ pitable shore.—Could I once more behold those dear
“ features, which I have so often contemplated with
“ admiration and delight—But I am satisfied.”
The sequel of this affecting scene I cannot pretend
to describe. Honorio's wound, at the next dressing,
had the appearance of a gangrene. The ball, however
which had been lodged among the nerves and sinews
of the neck, was now with ease extracted, and his
eye-sight was immediately restored.
Having settled his temporal affairs, ad made his
peace with Heaven, he on the fourth day expired in
the arms of Eliza, who was the sole and last object on
which his eyes were strained.
She did not long survive her unfortunate lover. Her
grief at length exhausted her constitution, and brought
her to the grave, after she had endowed alms-houses
for the maintenance of twenty poor cripples, bequeath-
ed a handsome fortune to her kinswoman, a conside-
rable present to the clergyman, and a large sum to the
poor of the parish.
At her own desire, she was buried in the same
grave with her lover, and over them is raised a plain
unembellished tomb of black, marble, with this modest
inscription: “ Dedicated to the memory of Honorio
“ and Eliza.” 
CHAP. 

196 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. LI.
HENRY AND CHARLOTTE.
A MOST AFFECTING HISTORY.
UNDER the mastership of the celebrated Busby,
there was a boy at school, whom I shall distin-
guish by the name of Henry, equally esteemed by his
masters for the brilliancy of his talents, and beloved by
his school-fellows for the various excellent qualities of
his mind, and the sweetness of his disposition.
Before he had risen very high in the school, he con-
ceived a passion for a young lady in the neighbour-
hood, eminently beautiful, and differing from him in
character, only as the natural delicacy and softness of
her sex added a charm to every perfection of her lover.
From the many interviews they bad had, the flame,
which at first fired his bosome, quickly became mutual,
and they already indulged themselves in romantic ideas
or celebrating their nuptuals, when they scarce knew
what love was, but from the fluttering it caused in
each of their tender breasts.
Two years were now elapsed since they had de-
clared their flame to each other. Henry had long
pleaded his love to his dear Charlotte, with all the
force, which a sincere, and daily increasing passion
could inspire him with.
Marriage was what they both looked up to, but im-
possibilities dimmed the prospect; and though he loved
her with a tenderness, which nought but various mo-
tives can implant, yet still his desires tended to that
point of bliss, which nothing but the privilege of mar-
riage can give sanction to.
His 

197 OF THE FAIR SEX.
His father, it seems, having long observed the close
intimacy which existed between our hero and this ami-
able girl, and fearful of the consequence, namely mar-
riage (for she had no fortune) resolved to seperate
them.
Accordingly he purchased him an ensigncy in a
regiment just going abroad; and paying little regard
to his son's disapprobation of a military lite, sent him
off to Jersey.
This precaution, however, proved fruitless; for
Henry, as soon as he was acquainted with his father's
cruel determination, having obtained Charlotte's full
consent, had their marriage consummated unknown to
any of his friends; and, as his regiment was detained
in England, by unforeseen delays, a much longer time
than was expected, he found means to pass the greater
part of his time in her company.
I shall pass over the tender scene, which took place
at their parting. Suffice it to say, that never was a
picture of grief displayed in more natural and affecting
colours, thin what this interview exhibited. With,
difficulty he dissuaded her from the earnest desire she
had of accompanying him; but he knew the dangers
of the voyage, and the difficulties a women is exposed
to in a camp, too well to comply with her request.
All he had to console her with was, an assurance of
the most speedy return he could obtain.
Before he had been six months in Jersey, he re-
ceived the news of her being brought to bed of a son-
Since she had last seen her dear Henry, her constancy
had been put to the trail by a thousand pressing cala-
mities.
Just after he had set fail, she felt a severe shock in
the loss of a kind and affectionate mother, her only
surviving parent, and was now left an helpless orphan,
exposed to all the dangers of the wide world, deprived 
S2 of 

198 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
of every comfort of life, and nearly destitute of all its
necessaries.
Her mother being the relict of a colonels had with
some œconomy, made shift to support herself and
daughter, in a genteel manner on her pension. But
this dropt at her death, and poor Charlotte, who,
either from the too great indulgence or the pride of
her parents, had not been brought up to any business,
was now reduced to the desperate alternative of either
starving, or maintaining herself by the most desperate
trade her sex is acquainted with.
Happily an old school-fellow of Henry's learning
the distressed state of her circumstances, flew to her
assistance with all the ardour the thought of relieving
his friend's dearer half could inflame him with, and (as
she had too much virtue ever to become a prostitute)
saved her from the rigour of a death she no ways me-
rited, and which had long appeared to her inevitable.
Shortly after this timely rescue, she received the
following letter from her Henry: 
“ My DEAREST CHARLOTTE, 
“ Judge my happiness on hearing that Heaven has
blest us with a token of our love! That he may re-
semble his mother in every thing, is the only boon I
crave now for him:—But I change my joy to a note
of sorrow! The pernicious effects of this elimate have
inflicted on me an illness, which I fear I never shall
get over. Life, however, is a burthen to me, while
thou art absent:—Nor could I have held it out thus
long, but that I support myself on the prospect of that
bliss, which will, I hope, crown the rest of our years,
should I ever return to thee. I live, I breathe but
for thee, and fear not death, but as it shall snatch thee
from me.— But there is a place, a paradise, were we
shall one day meet, to part no more!—Farewell! May
Heaven shed its choicest blessings on thee and thy in-
fant, 

199 OF THE FAIR SEX.
sant, and render you both happy, as it made thee
good!”
Equally alarmed at the severity of her Henry's dis-
order, and charmed with the sincerity of his passion,
she resolved to set fail in quest of him. Accordingly,
supplied by the kindness of his friend with every thing
requisite for her voyage, she went on bored a transport
bound for the place of her husband's destination. But
the bitterest scene of her affliction remained as yet
unaccomplished. All those flattering images of joy,
which the thought of quickly seeing her Henry had
presented to her, were suddenly overclouded by the
storm, which intercepted them in their passage.
After every exertion of the crew had proved vain,
they were driven to the last resource, and fired the
signal of distress. This was instantly answered by
another ship, which had long been near, but, from the
darkness which reigned around, without the knowledge
of either. It was, however, too late to save their
vessel. The leak, which had so long distressed them,
now took in so fast, that it was impossible to keep her
above water; and just as the ship made up to her, she
sunk. Her long-boat, stowed full, was now approach-
ing the side of the ship, when a cruel wave snatched it
under, and Charlotte, with her dear infant close clasped
to her breast, floated at the mercy of a stormy sea.
Must I stop my reader to tell him, that Henry,
having procured leave of absence, was returning in
the other ship?
He had long fixed his eyes on the boat, struck with
the beauty of his unknown wife. Unable any longer
to be witness to such a scene of distress, without taking
an active part in it, he plunged in at the hazard of his
own life, and catching her as she rose on the back
of a billow, bore her to her own ship's boat.
But what were his feelings, when he beheld the face
of his Charlotte! Her benumbed arm had dropt its
tender 

200 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
tender charge. The horror of her distress had de-
prived her cheeks of their roseate hue, and plundered
her ruby lips of all their melting beauties. Dead was
the lustre of her glossy eye, and cold her lily hand.
He pressed her to his breast in the agonies of de-
spair, and strove to recal her affrighted spirits to their
gay abode. She at length awoke almost from the
shades of death: but seeing her Henry's face, shrieked
astonishment, and sunk into his arms a breathless
corse!
CHAP. LII.
ON THE DEGREES OF SENTIMENTAL ATTACHMENT
AT DIFFERENT PERIODS.
IN the earlier ages, sentiment in love does not ap-
pear to have been much attended to. When Abra-
ham sent his servant to court a bride for his son Isaac,
we do not so much as hear, that Isaac was consulted
on the matter; nor is there even a suspicion, that he
might refuse or dislike the wife which his father had
selected for him.
From the manner in which Rebecca was solicited,
we learn, that women were not then courted in person
by the lover, but by a proxy, whom he, or his parents,
deputed in his stead. We likewise see, that this proxy
did not, as in modern times, indeavour to gain the
affection of the lady he was sent to, by enlarging on 
the personal properties, and mental qualifications of
the lover; but by the richness and magnificence of the
presents he mads to her and her relations.
Presents

201 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
Presents have been, from the earliest ages, and are
to this day, the mode of transacting all kinds of bu-
siness in the East. When a favour is to be asked of
a superior, one connot hope to obtain it without a
present. Courtship, therefore, having been anciently
transacted in this manner, it is plain, that it was only
considered in the same light as any other negociable
business, and not as a matter of sentiment, and of the
heart.
In the courtship, however, or rather purchase of a
wife by Jocob, we meet with something like senti-
ment; for when he found that he was not possessed
of mony or goods, equal to the price which was pro-
bably set upon her, he not only condescended to pur-
chase her by servitude, but even seemed much disap-
pointed, when the tender-eyed Leah was faithlessly im-
posed upon him instead of the beautiful Rachel.
The ancient Gauls, Germans, and neighbouring
nations of the North, had so much veneration for the
sex in general, that in courtship they behaved with a
spirit of gallantry, and shewed a degree of sentiment,
to which those, who called them Barbarians, never ar-
rived. Not contented with getting possession of the
person of his mistress, a nothern lover could not be
satisfied without the sincere affection of her heart;
nor was his mistress ever to be gained but by such
methods, as plainly indicated to her the tenderest at-
tach went from the most deferring man.
The women of Scandinavia were not to be courted
but by the most assiduous attendance, seconded by
such warlike achievements as the custom of the coun-
try had rendered necessary to make a man deserving
of his mistress. On these accounts we frequently find
a lover accosting the object of his passion, by a minute
and circumstantial detail of all his explots, and all his
accomplishments. “ We fought with swords,” says 
King Regner, in a beautiful ode composed by himself, 
in

202 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
in memory of the deeds of his former days, “ that
“ day wherein I saw ten thousand of my foes rolling
“ in the dust, near a promontory of England. A
“ dew of blood distilled from our swords. The ar-
“ rows, which flew in search of the helmets, bellowed
“ through the air. The pleasure of that day was truly
“ exquisite.
“ We fought with swords. A young man should
“ march early to the conflict of arms. Man should
“ attack man, or bravely resist him. In this hath al-
“ ways consisted the nobility of the warrior, He
“ who aspires to the love of his mistress, ought to be
“ dauntless in the clash of swords.”
The descendants of the nothern nations, long after
they had plundered and repeopled the greatest part
of Europe, retained nearly the same ideas of love, and
practised the same methods in declaring it, that they
had imbibed from their ancestors. “ Love,” says,
William of Montagnogout, “ engages to the most
“ amiable conduct. Love inspires the greatest actions
“ Love has no will but that of the object beloved,
“ nor seeks any thing but what will augment her
“ glory. You cannot love, nor ought to be beloved,
“ if you ask any thing that virtue condemns. Never
“ did I form a wish, that could wound the heart of
“ my beloved, nor delight in a pleasure that was incon-
“ sistent with her delicacy.”
The method of addressing females, among some of
the tribes of American Indians, is the most simple
that can possibly be devised. When the lover goes
to visit his mistress, he only begs leave, by signs, to
enter her hut. After obtaining this, he goes in, and
fits down by her in the most respectful silence. If she
suffers him to remain there without interruption, her
doing so is consenting to his suit. If, however, the
lover has any thing given him to eat and drink, it is a
refusal; 

203 OF THE FAIR SEX.
refusal: though the woman is obliged to set by him
till he has finished his repast. He then retires in silence.
In Canada, courtship is not carried on with that coy
reserve, and seeming secrecy, which politeness has intro-
duced among the inhabitants of civilized nations. When
a man and woman meet, though they never saw each
other before, if he is captivated with her charms, he
declares his passion in the plainest manner; and she,
with the same simplicity, answers, Yes, or No, without
further deliberation. “ That female reserve,” says an
ingenious writer, “ that seeming reluctance to enter
“ into the married state, observable in polite countries,
“ is the work of art, and not of nature. The history
“ of every uncultivated people amply proves it. It
“ tells us, that their women not only speak with
“ freedom the sentiments of their hearts, but even
“ blush not to have these sentiments made as public as
“ possible.”
In Formosa, however, they differ so much from the
simplicity of the Canadians, that it would be reckoned
the greatest indecency in the man to declare, or in-
the woman to hear, a declaration of the passion of
love. The lover is, therefore, obliged to depute his
mother, sister, or some female relation; and from any
of these the soft tale may be heard without the least
offence to delicacy.
In Spain, the women had formerly no voice in dis-
posing of themselves in matrimony. But as the empire
of common sense began to extend itself, they began to
claim a privilege, at least of being consulted in the
choice of the partners of their lives. Many fathers and
guardians, hurt by this female innovation, and puffed
up with Spanish pride, still insisted on forcing their
daughters to marry according to their pleasure, by
means of duennas, locks, hunger, and even sometimes
of poison and daggers. But as nature will revolt
against
* Dr. Alexander. 

204 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
against every species of oppression and injustice, the
ladies have for some time begun to assert their own
rights. The authority of fathers and guardians be-
gins to decline, and lovers find themselves obliged to
apply to the affections of the fair, as well as to the
pride and avarice of their relations.
The nightly musical serenades of mistresses by their
lovers are still in use. The gallant composes some love
sonnets, as expressive as he can, not only of the situ-
ation of his heart, but of every particular circumstance
between him and the lady, not forgetting to lard them
with the most extravagant encomiums on her beauty and
merit. These he signs in the night below her window
accompanied with his lute, or sometimes with a whole
band of music. The more piercingly cold the air, the
more the lady's heart is supposed to be thawed with
the patient sufferance of her lover, who, from night
to night, frequently continues this exercise for many
hours, heaving the deepest sighs, and calling the most
piteous, looks towards the window; at which if his
goddess at last deigns to appear, and drops him a curt-
sey, he is superlatively paid for all his watching; but
if she blesses him with a smile, he is ready to run dis-
tracted.
In Italy the manner of addressing the ladies, so far
as it relates to serenading, nearly resembles that of
Spain. The Italian, however, goes a step farther
than the Spaniard. He endeavours to blockade the
house, where his fair one lives, so as to prevent the
entrance of any rival. If he marries the lady who cost
him all this trouble and attendance, he shuts her up
for life. If not, she becomes the object of his eter-
nal hatred, and he too frequently endeavours to re-
venge by poison the success of his happier rival.
In one circumstance relating to courtship, the Ita-
lians are said to be particular. They protract the
time of it as long as possible, well knowing that, even
with 

205 OF THE FAIR SEX.
with all the little ills attending it, a period thus em-
ployed is one of the sweetest of human life.
A French lover, with the word sentiment perpe-
tually in his mouth, seems by every action to have
excluded it from his heart. He places his whole con-
fidence in his exterior air and appearance. He dresses
for his mistress, dances for her, flutters constantly
about her, helps her to lay on her rouge, and to place
her patches. He attends her round the whole circle
of amusements, chatters to her constantly, whistles and
sings, and plays the fool with her. Whatever be his
station, every thing gaudy and glittering within the
sphere of it is called in to his assistance, particularly
splendid carriages and tawdry liveries; but if, by the
help of all these, he cannot make an impression on the
fair one's heart, it costs him nothing but a few shrugs
of his shoulders, two or three silly exclamations, and as
many stanzas of some satirical song against her; and
as it is impossible for a Frenchman to live without an
amour, he immediately betakes himself to another.
There is hardly any such thing among people of
fashion as courtship. Matters are generally so ordered
by parents and guardians, that to a bride and bride-
groom the day of marriage is often the second time of
their meeting. In many countries, to be married in
this manner would be reckoned the greatest of misfor-
tune. In France it is little regarded. In the fashion-
able world few people are greater strangers to, or more
indifferent about each other, than husband and wife;
and any appearance of fondness between them, or their
being seen frequently together, would infallibly make
them forfeit the reputation of the ton, and be laughed
at by all polite company. On this account, nothing
is more common than to be acquainted with a lady
without knowing her husband, or visiting the husband
without ever seeming his wife.
T CHAP. 

206 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. LIII.
MINDS AND TEMPERS IN UNISON ARE RARELY 
BE FOUND,
I.
SAY, mighty Love! and teach my song
To whom thy sweetest joys belong,
And who the happy pairs,
Whose yielding hearts and joining hands
Find blessings twisted with their bands,
To soften all their cares.
II.
Not the wild herd of nymphs and swains,
That thoughtless fly into the chains,
As custom leads the way:
If there be bliss without design,
Ivies and oaks may grow and twine,
And be as bless'd as they.
III.
Not sordid souls of earthly mould,
Who, drawn by kindred charms of gold,
To dull embraces move!
So two rich mountains of Peru
May rush to wealthy marriage too,
And make a world of love.
IV.
Not the mad tribe that hell inspires.
With wanton flames; those raging fires
The purer bliss destroy:
On Ætna's top let furies wed,
And sheets of lightning dress the bed
T' improve the burning joy.
V. Not

207 OF THE FAIR SEX.
V.
Not the dull pairs, whose marble forms
None of the melting passions warms
Can mingle hearts and hands:
Logs of green wood, that quench the coals,
Are married just like Stoic souls,
With osiers for their bands.
VI.
Not minds of melancholy strain,
Still silent, or that still complain,
Can the dear bondage bless:
As well may heav'nly concerts spring
From too old lutes with ne'er a string,
Or none besides the bass.
VII.
Nor can the soft enchantments hold
Two jarring souls of angry mould,
The rugged and the keen:
Samson's young foxes might as well
In bands of cheerful wedlock dwell,
With firebrands tied between.
VIII.
Nor let the cruel setters bind
A gentle to a savage mind,
For love abhors the sight:
Loose the fierce tiger from the deer,
For native rage and native fear
Rise and forbid delight.
IX.
Two kindest souls alone must meet;
'Tis friendship makes the bondage sweet,
And feeds their mutual loves:
Bright Venus, on her rolling throne,
Is drawn by gentlest birds alone,
And Cupids yoke the doves.
CHAP. 

208 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
CHAP. LIV.
A VIEW OF MATRIMONY IN THREE DIFFERENT
LIGHTS.
THE marriage-life is always an insipid, a vexatious,
or an happy condition. The first is, when two
people of no taste meet together, upon such a settle-
ment as has been thought reasonable by parents and
conveyancers, from an exact valuation of the land and
cash of both parties. In this case, the young lady's
person is no more regarded than the house and im-
provements in purchase of an estate; but she goes with
her fortune, rather than her fortune with her. These
make up the crowd or vulgar of the rich, and fill up
the lumber of the human race, without beneficence
towards those below them, or respect towards those
above them; and lead a despicable, independent, and
useless life, without sense of the laws of kindness,
good-nature, mutual offices, and the elegant satisfac-
tions which flow from reason and virtue.
The vexatious life arises from a conjunction of two
people of quick taste and resentment, put together for
reasons well known to their friends, in which especial
care is taken to avoid (what they think the chief of
evils) poverty; and ensure to them riches, with every
evil besides. These good people live in a constant
constraint before company, and, when alone, revile
each other's person and conduct. In company, they
are in purgatory; when by themselves, in hell.
The happy marriage is, where two persons meet,
and voluntarily make choice of each other, without
principally regarding or neglecting the circumstances
of fortune or beauty. These may still love in spite
of adversity or sickness. The former we may, in some
measure, 

209 OF THE FAIR SEX.
measure, defend ourselves from; the other is the com-
mon lot of humanity. Love has nothing to do with
riches or state. Solitude, with the person beloved,
has a pleasure, even in a woman's mind, beyond show
or pomp.
CHAP. LV.
OF BETROTHING AND MARRIAGE.
AT a very early period, families who lived in a
friendly manner, fell upon a method of securing
their children to each other, by what is called in the
sacred writings betrothing. This was agreeing on a
price to be paid for the bride, the time when it should
be paid, and when she should be delivered into the
hands of her husband.
There were, according to the Talmudists, three
ways of betrothing. The first, by a written contract.
The second, by a verbal agreement, accompanied with
a piece of money. And the third, by the parties com-
ing together, and living as husband and wife; which
might have been as properly called marriage as be-
trothing.
The written contract was in the following manner:
“ On such a day, month, and year, A. the son of B.
has said to D. the daughter of E. be thou my spouse
according to the law of Moses and of the Israelites;
and I will give thee as a dowry, the sum of two hun-
dred suzims, as it is ordered by our law. And the
said D. hath promised to be his spouse upon the con-
ditions aforesaid, which the said A. doth promise to
perform on the day of marriage. And to this the said
T2 A. doth 

210 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
A. doth hereby bind himself and all that he hath, to
the very cloak upon his back; engages himself to love,
honour, feed, clothe, and protect her, and to perform
all that is generally implied in contracts of marriage in
favour of the Israelitish wives.”
The verbal agreement was made in the presence of
a sufficient number of witnesses, by the man saying to
the woman, “ Take this money as a pledge, that at
such a time I will take thee to be my wife.” A wo-
man, who was thus betrothed or bargained for, was
almost in every respect by the law considered as already
married.
Before the legislation of Moses, “ marriages among
the Jews,” say the Rabbies, “ were agreed upon by
the parents and relations of both sides. When this
was done the bridegroom was introduced to his bride.
Presents were mutually exchanged, the contract signed
before witnesses, and the bride, having remained some
time with her relations, was sent away to the habita-
tion of her husband, in the night, with singing, danc-
ing, and the found of musical instruments.”
By the institution of Moses, the Rabbies tell us,
the contract of marriage was read in the presence of,
and signed by; at least ten witnesses, who were free
and of age. The bride, who had taken care to bathe
herself the night before, appeared in all her splendor,
but veiled, in imitation of Rebecca, who veiled herself
when she came in light of Isaac. She was then given
to the bridegroom by her parents, in words to this
purpose: “ Take her according to the law of Moses:”
And he received her, by saying, “ I take her accord-
“ ing to that law.” Some blessings were then pro-
nounced upon the young couple, both by the parents
and the rest of the company.
The blessings or prayers generally ran in this stile:
“ Blessed art thou, O Lord of heaven and earth, who
hast created man in thine own likeness, and hast ap-
pointed 

211 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
pointed woman to be his partner and companion!
Blessed art thou, who fillest Sion with joy for the mul-
titude of her children! Blessed art thou, who sendest,
gladness to the bridegroom and his bride! who hast
ordained for them love, joy, tenderness, peace, and
mutual affection. Be pleased to bless, not only this
couple, but Judah and Jerusalem, with songs of joy,
and praise for the joy that thou givest them, by the
multitude of their sons and of their daughters.”
After the virgins had sung a marriage song, the
company partook of a repast, the most magnificent
the parties could afford; after which they began a
dance, the men round the bridegroom, the women
round the bride. They pretended that this dance
was of divine institution, and an essential part of the
ceremony. The bride was then carried to the nuptial
bed, and the bridegroom left in the chamber with her.
The company again returned to their feasting and re-
joicing; and the Rabbies inform us, that this feasting,
when the bride was a widow, lasted only three days,
but seven if she was a virgin.
At the birth of a son, the father planted a cedar;
and at that of a daughter, he planted a pine. Of
these trees the nuptial bed was constructed, when the
parties, at whose birth they were planted, entered into
the married state.
The Assyrians had a court, or tribunal, whose only
business was to dispose of young women in marriage,
and to see the laws of that union properly executed.
What these laws were, or how the execution of them
was enforced, are circumstances which have not been
handed down to us. But the erecting a court solely
for the purpose of taking cognizance of them, sug-
gests an idea that they were many and various.
Among the Greeks, the multiplicity of male and
female deities who were concerned in the affair of love,
made the invocations and sacrifices, on a matrimonial
occasion, 

212 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
occasion, a very tedious affair. Fortunate omens gave
great joy; and the most fortunate of all others, was
a pair of turtles seen in the air, as those birds were
reckened the truest emblems of conjugal love and fi-
delity. If, however, one of them was seen alone,
it infallibly denoted separation, and all the ills attend-
ing an unhappy marriage.
On the wedding-day, the bride and bridegroom
were richly dressed, and adorned with garlands of
herbs and flowers. The bride was conducted in the
the evening to the house of her husband in a chariot,
seated between the husband and one of his relations.
When she alighted from the chariot, the axle-tree of
it was burnt, to signify that there was no method left
for her to return back. As soon as the young couple
entered the house, figs and other fruits were thrown
upon their heads to denote plenty; and a sumptuous
entertainment was ready for them to partake of, to
which all the relations on both sides were invited.
The bride was lighted to bed by a number of torches,
according to her quality; and the company returned in
the morning, to salute the new-married couple, and to
sing epithalamia at the door of their bed-chamber.
Epithalamia were marriage-songs, anciently sung in
praise of the bride or bridegroom, wishing them hap-
piness, prosperity, and a numerous issue.
Among the Romans there were three different kinds
of marriage. The ceremony of the first consisted, in
the young couple eating a cake together, made only of
wheat, salt, and water. The second kind was cele-
brated by the parties solemnly pledging their faith to
each other, by giving and receiving a piece of money.
This was the most common way of marrying among
the Romans. It continued in use, even after they be-
came Christians. When writings were introduced to
testify that a man and a woman had become husband and
wife, and also, that the husband had settled a dower
upon 

213 OF THE FAIR SEX.
upon his bride, these writings were called Tabulœ Do-
tales (dowry tables;) and hence, perhaps, the words
in our marriage ceremony, “ I thee endow.”
The third kind of marriage was, when a man and
woman, having cohabited for some time and had chil-
dren, found it expedient to continue together. In
this case, if they made up the matter between them-
selves it became a valid marriage, and the children
were considered as legitimate.
Something similar to this is the present custom in
Scotland. There, if a man live with, and have chil-
dren by a woman, though he do not marry her till he
be upon his death-bed, all the children are thereby le-
gitimated, and become entitled to the honours and
estates of their father. The case is the same in Hol-
land, and some parts of Germany; with this difference
only, that all the children to be legitimated must ap-
pear with the father and mother in church, at the ce-
remony of their marriage.
CHAP. LVI.
A PICTURE OF MATRIMONIAL FELICITY.
CLEON and Calista had lived together in all the
harmony of married minds for the space of se-
venteen months, during which time they had shared
together an infinite variety of changes in their fortune.
But, as if they were originally designed for one ano-
ther, every action of life afforded both of them some
beautiful instance of the strength and tenderness of this
attachment.
When 

214 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
When Cleon was absent, the bosom of Calista felt
something always wanting to compleat her happiness.
When Calista was away, the heart of Cleon was des-
titute of its principal support, and like a bird which
had lost its companion, sorrowed for her return.
It often happens, that, in human life, the spirits will
yield to unbidden dejection, and the breast throb with
oppression, it scarce knows why. In these moments,
the balm of affection is of particular enfluence, and af-
fords a comfort, which nothing in this world can so
adequately bestow.
Whenever Cleon chanced to fall into a melancholy
of this kind, the gentle Calista would yield up her en-
tire attention to restore her lover to himself. Tran-
quility is wounded and cured sometimes by imper-
ceptible causes. Calista would soothe her Cleon with
a delicate persuasiveness, inspired by the generous pas-
sion that she bore him. Instead of complaining of his
fretfulness, her only hope and endeavour was to remove
it; and her endeavours were generally successful. For
what is there so distressing in life, which the smiles
and caresses of a loving and beloved woman cannot
alleviate?
Behold poverty on the one hand, and distemper on
the other; yet, if the kind partner of our fates is re-
solved to share the lot with us, and is smiling, like the
angle of patience, on our sick pillows, we may then
defy the utmost malice of ill-fortune, and receive from
the obligation assiduities of love, those blessings which
are denied us abroad, in a bustling, malicious, and un-
generous world.
CHAP. 

215 OF THE FAIR SEX.
CHAP. LVII.
ON THE CHOICE OF A HUSBAND.
ASSIST me, ye Nine,
Whilst the youth I define,
With whom I in wedlock would class;
And ye blooming fair,
Lend a listening are,
To approve of the man as you pass.
Not the changeable fry
Who love, nor know why,
But follow bedup'd by their passions:
Such vot'ries as these
Are like waves of the seas,
And steer'd by their own inclination.
The hectoring blade
How unfit for the maid,
Where meekness and modesty reigns!
Such a thundering Bully
I'll speak against truly,
Whatever I get for my pains.
Not the dogmatic elf,
Whose great all is himself,
Whose alone ipse dixit is law:
What a figure he'll make,
How like Momus he'll speak
With sneering burlesque, a pshaw! pshaw!
Not the covetous wretch
Whose heart's at full stretch
To gain an inordinate treasure; 
Him

216 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Him leave with the rest,
And such mortals detest,
Who sacrifice life without measure.
The fluttering fop,
How empty his top!
Nay but some call him coxcomb, I trow;
But 'tis losing your time,
He's not half worth a rhyme,
Let the fag ends of prose bind his brow.
The guttling sot,
What a conduit his throat!
How beastly and vicious his life!
Where drunkards prevail,
Whole families feel,
Much more an affectionate wife.
One character yet,
I with sorrow repeal,
And oh! that the number were less;
'Tis the blasphemous crew:
What a pattern they'll shew
To their hapless, and innocent race!         
Let wisdom then shine
In the youth that is mine,
Whilst virtue his footsteps impress;
Such I'd choose for my mate,
Whether sooner or late:
Tell me, Ladies, what think you of this?
“ The chief point to be regarded,” says Lady Pen-
nington in her Advice to her Daughters, “ in the
choice of a companion for life, is a really virtuous
principle—an unaffected goodness of heart. Without
this, you will be continually shocked by indecency,
and

293 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
and pained by impiety. So numerous have been the
unhappy victims to the ridiculous opinion, a reformed
libertine makes the best husband—that, did not experience
daily evince the contrary, one would believe it im-
possible for a girl, who has a tolerable degree of com-
mon understanding, to be made the dupe of so erro-
neous a position, which has not the least shadow of rea-
son for its foundation, and which a small share of ob-
servation will prove to be false in fact. A man, who
has been long conversant with the worst fort of wo-
men, is very apt to contract a bad opinion of, and a
contempt for, the sex in general. Incapable of esteem-
ing any, he is suspicious of all; jealous without cause,
angry without provocation, and his own disturbed ima-
gination is a continued source of ill-humour. To this
is frequently joined a bad habit of body, the natural
consequence of an irregular life, which gives an addi-
tional sourness to the temper. What rational pro-
spect of happiness on there be with such a companion?
And, that this is the general character of those who
are called reformed rakes, observation will certify. But,
admit there may be some exceptions, it is a hazard,
upon which no considerate woman would venture the
peace of her whole future life. The vanity of those
girls who believe themselves capable of working mi-
racles of this kind, and who give up their persons to
men of libertine principles, upon the wild expectation
of reclaiming them, justly deserves the disappointment
which it will generally meet with; for, believe me, a
wife is, of all persons, the least likely to succeed in
such an attempt.—Be it your care to find that virtue
in a lover, which you must never hope to form in a
husband. Good sense, and good nature, are almost
equally requisite. If the former is wanting, it will be
next to an impossibility for you to esteem the person,
of whose behaviour you may have cause to be ashamed.
Mutual esteem is as essential to happiness in the mar-
U  ried 

294 HISTORICAL SKETCHES. 
ried state, as mutual affection. Without the latter,
every day will bring with it some fresh cause of vexa-
tion, until repeated quarrels produce a coldness, which
will settle into an irreconcileable aversion, and you will
become, not only each other's torment, but the object
of contempt to your family, and to your acquaintance.
“ This quality of good-nature is, of all others, the
most difficult to be ascertained, on account of the ge-
neral mistake of blending it with good-humour, as if
they were in themselves the same; whereas in fact,
no two principles of action are more essentially differ-
ent. But this may require some explanation.—By
good-nature, I mean that true benevolence, which par-
takes the felicity of all mankind, which promotes the
felicity of every individual within the reach of its abi-
lity, which relieves the distressed, comforts the afflicted,
diffuses blessings, and communicates happiness, far as
its sphere of action can extend; and which, in the pri-
vate scenes of life, will shine conspicuous in the dutiful
son, in the affectionate husband, the indulgent father,
the faithful friend, and in the compassionate master
both to man and beast. Good-humour, on the other
hand, is nothing more than a cheerful, pleasing de-
portment, arising either from a natural gaiety of mind,
or from an affectation of popularity, joined to an affa-
bility of behaviour, the result of good-breeding, and
from a ready compliance with the taste of every com-
pany. This kind of mere good-humour is, by far, the
most striking quality. It is frequently mistaken for,
and complimented with the superior name of, real god-
nature. A man, by this specious appearance, has often
acquired that appellation who, in all the actions of
his private life, has been a morose, cruel, revengeful,  
sullen, haughty tyrant. Let them put on the cap,
whose temples fit the galling wreath!
“ A man of a truly benevolent disposition, and
formed to promote the happiness of all around him,
may 

295 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
may sometimes perhaps, from an ill habit of body, an
accidental vexation, or from a commendable openness
of heart, above the meanness of disguise, be guilty of 
little sallies of peevishness, or of ill-humour, which,
carrying the appearance of ill-nature, may be unjustly
thought to proceed from it, by persons who are unac-
quainted with his true character, and who take ill hu-
mour and ill nature to be synonimous terms, though
in reality they bear not the least analogy to each other.
In order to the forming a right judgment it is abso-
lutely necessary to observe this distinction, which will
effectually secure you from the dangerous error of tak-
ing the shadow for the substance, an irretrievable mis-
take, pregnant with innumerable consequent evils!
“ From what has been said, it plainly appears, that
the criterion of this amiable virtue is not to be taken
from the general opinion; mere good humour being,
to all intents and purposes, sufficient, in this particular,
to establish the public voice in favour of a man utterly
devoid of every humane and benevolent affection of
heart. It is only from the less conspicuous scenes of
life, the more retired sphere of action, from the artless
tenor of domestic conduct, that the real character can,
with any certainty, be drawn. These, undisguised,
proclaim the man. But, as they shun the glare of
light, nor court the noise of popular applause, they
pass unnoted, and are seldom known till after an inti-
mate acquaintance. The best method, therefore, to
avoid the deception in this case, is to lay no stress on
outward appearances, which are too often fallacious,
but to take the rule of judging from the simple unpo-
lished sentiments of those, whose dependent connec-
tions give them undeniable certainty; who not only see
but who hourly feel, the good or bad effect of that dis-
position, to which they are subjected. By this, I mean,
that if a man is equally respected, esteemed, and be-
loved by his dependents and domestics, you may justly
conclude,

296 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
conclude, he has that true good-nature, that real bene-
volence, which delights in communicating felicity,
and enjoys the satisfaction it diffuses. But if by these
he is despised and hated, served merely from a princi-
ple of fear, devoid of affection, which is ever easily
discoverable, whatever may be his public character,
however favourable the general opinion, be assured,
that his disposition is such as can never be productive
of domestic happiness.—I have been the more parti-
cular on this head, as it is one of the  most essential
qualifications to be regarded, and of all others the
most liable to be mistaken.
“ Never be prevailed with, my dear, to give your
hand to a person defective in these material points.
Secure of virtue, of good-nature, and understanding,
in a husband, you may be secure of happiness. With-
out the two former it is unattainable. Without the
latter, in a tolerable degree, it must be very imperfect.
“ Remember, however, that infallibility is not the
property of man, or you may entail disappointment
on yourself, by expecting what is never to be found.
The best men are sometimes inconsistent with them-
selves. They are liable to be hurried, by sudden starts
of passion, into expressions and actions, which their
cooler reason will condemn. They may have some od-
dities of behaviour, and some peculiarities of temper.
They may be subject to accidental ill-humour, or to
whimsical complaints. Blemishes of this kind often
shade the brightest character; but they are never de-
structive of mutual felicity, unless when they are made
so by an improper resentment, or by an ill-judged op-
position. When cooled, and in his usual temper, the
man of understanding, if he has been wrong, will
suggest to himself all that could be urged against him.
The man of good-nature will, unupbraided, own his
error. Immediate contradiction is, therefore, wholly
unserviceable, and highly imprudent; an after repe-
tition 

297 OF THE FAIR SEX.
tition is equally unnecessary and injudicious. Any
peculiarities in the temper or behaviour ought to be
properly represented in the tenderest and in the most
friendly manner. If the representation of them is
made discreetly, it will generally be well taken. But,
if they are so habitual, as not easily to be altered,
strike not too often upon the unharmonious is string.
Rather let them pass as unobserved. Such a cheerful
compliance will better cement your union; and they
may be made easy to yourself, by reflecting on the
superior good qualities, by which these trifling faults
are so greatly overbalanced.
“ You must remember, my dear, these rules are laid
down, on the supposition of your being united to a
person, who possesses the three qualifications for hap-
piness before mentioned. In this case, no farther di-
rection is necessary, but that you strictly perform the
duty of a wife, namely, to love, to honour, and obey.
The two first articles are a tribute so indispensably due
to merit, that they must be paid by inclination;—and
they naturally lead to the performance of the last,
which will not only be an easy, but a pleasing task,
since nothing can ever be enjoined by such a person
that is in itself improper, and few things will, that
can, with any reason, be disagreeable to you.
“ The being united to a man of irreligious prin-
ciples, makes it impossible to discharge a great part of
the proper duty of a wife. To name but one instance,
obedience will be rendered impracticable, by frequent
injunctions inconsistent with, and contrary to, the
higher obligations of morality. This it not a suppo-
sition, but is a certainty founded upon facts, which I
have too often seen and can attest. Where this hap-
pens, the reasons for non-compliance ought to be offer-
at least the strong, good-natural manner. There is
at least the chance of success from being heard. But
should those reasons be rejected, or the hearing them
U2 refused, 

298 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
refused, and silence on the subject enjoined, which is
most probable, few people caring to hear what they
know to be right, when they are determined not to be
convinced by it,—obey the injunction, and urge not
the argument farther. Keep, however, steady to your
principles, and suffer neither persuasion nor threats to
prevail on you to act contrary to them. All commands
repugnant to the laws of christianity, it is your indis-
pensable duty to disobey. All requests that are incon-
sistent with prudence, or incompatible with the rank
and character which you ought to maintain in life,
it is your interest to refuse. A compliance with the
former would be criminal, a consent to the latter
highly indiscreet; and it might thereby subject you
to general censure. For a man, capable of requiring,
from his wife, what he knows to be in itself wrong, is
equally capable of throwing the whole blame of such
misconduct on her, and of afterwards upbraiding her
for a behaviour, to which he will, upon the same prin-
ciple, disown that he has been accessary. Many similar
instances have come within the compass of my own ob-
servation. In things of a less material nature, that
are neither criminal in themselves, nor pernicious in
their consequences, always acquiesce, if insisted on,
however disagreeable they may be to your own temper
and inclination. Such a compliance will evidently
prove, that your refusal, in the other cases, proceeds
not from a spirit of contradiction, but merely from a
just regard to that superior duty, which can never be
infringed with impunity.
“ As the want of understanding is by no art to be
concealed, by no address to be disguised, it might be
supposed impossible for a woman of sense to unite her-
self to a person, whose defect, in this instance, must
render, that fort of rational society, which constitutes
the chief happiness of such an union, impossible. Yet
here, how often has the weakness of female judgment
been 

299 OF THE FAIR SEX.
been conspicuous! The advantages of great superiority
in rank or fortune have frequently proved so irresistible
a temptation, as, in opinion, to outweigh, not only
the folly, but even the vices of its possessor—a grand
mistake, ever tacitly acknowledged by a subsequent
repentance, when the expected pleasures of affluence,
equipage, and all the glittering pomp of useless pa-
geantry, have been experimentally found insufficient to
make amends for the want of that constant satisfaction,
which results from the social joy of conversing with
a reasonable friend!
“ But however weak this motive must be acknow-
ledged, it is more excusable than another, which, I
fear, has sometimes had an equal influence on the
mind;—I mean so great a love of sway, as to induce
her to give the preference to a person of weak intel-
lectual, in hopes of holding, uncontrolled, the reins
of government. The expectation is, in fact, ill ground-
ed. Obstinacy and pride are generally the companions
of folly. The silliest people are often the most tena-
cious of their opinion, and, consequently, the hardest
of all others to be managed. But, admit the contrary,
the principle is in itself bad. It tends to invert the
order of Nature, and to counteract the design of Pro-
vidence.
“ A woman can never be seen in a more ridiculous
light, than when she appears to govern her husband.
If, unfortunately, the superiority of understanding is
on her side, the apparent consciousness of that superi-
ority betrays a weakness, that renders her contemptible
in the light of every considerate person, and it may,
very probably, fix in his mind a dislike never to be era-
dicated. In such a case, if it should ever be your own,
remember that some degree of dissimulation is com-
mendable, so far as to let your husband's defects appear
unobserved. When he judges wrong, never flatly con-
tradict, but lead him insensibly into another opinion,
in

300 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
in so discreet a manner, that it may seem entirely his
own, and let the whole credit of every prudent deter-
mination rest on him, without indulging the foolish
vanity of claiming any merit to yourself. Thus a per-
son, of but an indifferent capacity, may be so assisted,
as, in many instances, to shine with borrowed lustre,
scarce distinguishable from the native, and by degrees
he may be brought into a kind of mechanical method
of acting properly, in all the common occurrences of
life. Odd as this position may seem, it is founded in
fact. I have seen the method successfully practised by
more than one person, where a weak mind, on the go-
verned side, has been so prudently set off as to appear
the sole director; like the statue of the Delphic god,
which was thought to give forth its own oracles,
whilst the humble priest, who lent his voice, was by
the shrine concealed, nor fought a higher glory, than
a supposed obedience to the power he would be thought
to serve.”
CHAP. LVIII.
ON CONJUGAL MISUNDERSTANDINGS.
FLORIO and Camilla, though in reality they had
a regard for one another, were so unfortunate in
an impatience of temper, that they continually render-
ed each other miserable. Florio was a man too easily
dejected, and Camilla interpreted this into sullenness.
In consequence of which, she would accuse him of pee-
vishness, or else fit whole hours with a book in her hand,
an regardless of his sighs, as if they were the puffs of
an old pair of bellows. If Florio desired her to avoid
a particular thing, she directly considered him as laying
a sort 

301 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
a sort of command upon her, and therefore thought it
incumbent on her pride to do the very thing prohibited.
If Florio begged of her to observe any point of good-
breeding, which Camilla might through accident have
forgot, she reproached him as a squeamish creature.
If he appeared particularly desirous to polish her in
the art of eloquence, it was imputed to a love of con-
tradiction. And thus two people, really lovers at
bottom, tortured one another without any solid cause.
CHAP. LIX.
MUTUAL FORBEARANCE NECESSARY TO THE HAP-
PINESS OF THE MARRIED STATE.
THE lady thus address'd her spouse—
What a mere dungeon is this house!
By no means large enough; and was it,
Yet this dull room, and that dark closet,
Those hangings with their worn-out graces,
Long beards, long noses, and pale faces,
Are such an antiquated scene,
They overwhelm me with the spleen.
Sir Humphrey, shooting in the dark,
Makes answer quite beside the mark:
No doubt my dear, I bade him come,
Engag'd myself to be at home,
And shall expect him at the door,
Precisely when the clock strikes four.
You are so deaf, the lady cried,
(And rais'd her voice, and frown'd beside)
You are so sadly deaf, my dear,
What shall I do to make you hear?
Dismiss 

302 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
Dismiss poor Harry! he replies,
Some people are more nice than wise;
For one slight trespass all this stir!
What if I did ride, whip, and spur,
'Twas but a mile—your fav'rite horse
Will never look one hair the worse.
Well, I protest 'tis; past all bearing!
Child! I am rather hard of hearing—
Yes, truly—one must schream and bawl:
I tell you, you can't hear at all.
Then with a voice exceeding low,
No matter if you hear or no.
Alas! and is domestic strife,
That forest ill of human life,
A plague so little to be fear'd,
As to be wantonly incurr'd;
To gratify a fretful passion,
On ev'ry trivial provocation?
The kindest and the happiest pair
Will find occasion to forbear,
And something ev'ry day they live,
To pity, and, perhaps, forgive.
But if infirmities that fall
In common to the lot of all,
A blemish or a sense impair'd,
Are crimes so little to be spar'd;
Then farewell all that must create
The comfort of the wedded state:
Instead of harmony, 'tis jar,
And tumult, and intestine war.
The love that cheers life's latest stage,
Proof against sickness and old age, 
Preserv'd by virtue from declension,
Becomes not weary of attention,
But lives, when that exterior grace 
Which 

3O3 OF THE FAIR SEX.
Which first inspir'd the flame decays.
'Tis gentle, delicate, and kind,
To faults compassionate or blind,
And will with sympathy endure
Those evils it would gladly cure?
But angry, coarse, and harsh expression
Shews love to be a mere profession,
Proves that the heart is none of his,
Or soon expels him, if it is.
CHAP. LX.
ON ECONOMY.
A GENTLEMAN, whose situation gave him
frequent opportunities of visiting those places,
where a variety of characters may be daily seen, lan-
guishing under all the rigour of confinement, and all
the wretchedness of penury, took particular notice of 
one prisoner, whose aspect and manner were singularly
characteristic. He was nearly a skeleton, and looked
the very picture of sadness and want, Yet, in all
this distressful extremity, nothing about him had an
appearance of meanness. While his fellow-sufferers
kept teasing every one for money, he never did. This
disposed the gentleman and his companion to exert
themselves, and make up a little sum for him. When
they begged his acceptance of it, they signified, at the
same time, a desire of hearing how he had been re-
duced.
“ My Story,” said he, “ is but short, and has no-
thing in it that is very extraordinary. I was the only
son, and consequently the sole heir of rich and respect-
able parents, who gave me a liberal education, and left
me 

304 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
me in possession of an ample fortune. I married the
daughter of a reputable citizen, who, from his mode
of life, was thought very wealthy. His family, who
knew nothing of his affairs, were accustomed to live in
the greatest splendor. My wife had a thousand ami-
able qualities. There are few genteel accomplishments
in which she did not excel. Her sweetness of temper
endeared her to all who knew her. Her vivacity never
forsook her, and was always pleasing. No heart was
ever more tender, more generous, or more uniformly
alive to all the delicacies of conjugal affection, than
hers. Yet, what with the extreme sensibility of her
nature, the superfluity in which she was bred, and her
peculiar fondness for every species of fashionable gaiety
and dissipation, her habit of squandering was uncon-
querable and unbounded. She always had what mo-
ney she wanted, and spent it as she pleased; for my
heart never permitted me to lay her under the least
restraint. Her extravagance, however romantic and
distressing, arose from principles originally good, but
ill directed. Nor could I retrench her expence, with-
out occasioning such a shock, as might have injured
her health. The moment I was envolved, I stretched
every point to keep it from her knowledge. I had
still great expectation from her father, in whose hands
the whole residue of my property was now lodged. My
situation soon became too critical to be much longer
concealed. But, in one fatal day, he failed, and I
was at once arrested, and stript of every thing. My
poor wife never left me, and never recovered the illness
occasioned by our misfortune. Often did these walls,
and these wretches, witness her lamentations. At last
she grew quite frantic, and expired in my arms, mut-
tering, with her last breath, curses on a conduct that
had ruined me.”
Economy is one of the best, and most necessary les-
sons that females can learn. With a little seasonable
care 

305 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
care and attention, what a world of misfortune and
misery might often be avoided! For the giddiness, so
frequently and hastily censured in the sex, is not a na-
tural, but adventitious quality.
How amiable and valuable a partner for life must that
lady be, who knows how to hit the happy medium be-
tween meanness and ostentation, plenty and superfluity,
delicacy and refinement, liberality and excess! This
beautiful and well-corrected temper of mind is her
best ornament at home or abroad. It affects her
whole arrangement, and regulates the minutest of her
actions. She is not tawdry within, nor the ape of
folly and finery when she goes out. The disposition
of her furniture, whether superb or ordinary, it happy
and commodious. She suffers nothing to be laid or
continue out of it place. Her conduct is the result
of thought, not of levity. She does nothing at ran-
dom. Her very pleasures are selected with taste, and
indulged on principle; and all her words are few, and
veil ordered.
One leading feature of reasonable being is, a sense
of order; and thin is a quality which peculiarly marks
the female temper. Women shew, by their very make
and manners, how much more finely their minds are
fashioned, and their feelings turned, than ours.
“ Heav'n, when it strives to polish all it can,
“ Its last best work, but forms a softer man.”
Our passions are by no means so delicate, our sensi-
bilities so exquisite, our ideas of beauty and deformity,
of reality and fiction, of right and wrong, so lively
and acute as theirs. Nature seems to have endowed
them with a general predilection for proportion in forms,
delicacy in colour, harmony in found, and elegance
in motion. Their discernment of whatever pleases or
disgusts their eye, or ears, or feelings, is therefore pe-
culiarly keen and sensible.
X It 

306 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
It is because proper use has not been made of this
great master-spring in the female make, to influence
their judgments, that women are universally fond of
whatever is flashy or glaring, much more affected by
our dress and manners than we are by theirs, and per-
petually the dupes of flattery and detraction; that the
maxims of fashion, however temporary and prepos-
terous, are adopted by most of them uniformly and
implicitly: that their pursuits in general are trivial,
visionary and capricious; that their homage to the
merest shadows is every where serious and profound;
and that apes, fops, and sycophants, with the whole
tribe of coxcombs, have more of their good graces,
perhaps possess more of their hearts, and always more
of their company, than men of sense and virtue.
CHAP. LXI.
MRS. PIOZZI'S ADVICE TO A NEW-MARRIED MAN.
I RECEIVED the news of your marriage with in-
finite delight, and hope that the sincerity, with
which I wish you happiness, may excuse the liberty I
take in giving yen a few rules, whereby more certainly
to obtain it. I see you smile at my wrong-headed
kindness, and, reflecting on the charms of your bride,
cry out in a rapture, that you are happy enough with-
out my rules. I know you are. But after one of the
forty years, which I hope you will pass pleasingly toge-
ther, are over, this letter may come in turn, and rules
for felicity may not be found unnecessary, however some
of them may appear impracticable.
Could 

307 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
Could that kind of love be kept alive through the
marriage state, which makes the charm of a single one,
the sovereign good would no longer be sought for; in
the union of two faithful lovers it would be found: but
reason shews us that this is impossible, and experience
informs us that it never was so; we must preserve it
as long, and supply it as happily as we can.
When your present violence of passion subsides, how-
ever, and a more cool and tranquil affection takes its 
place, be not hasty to censure yourself as indifferent, or 
to lament yourself as unhappy; you have lost that on-
ly which it was impossible to retain, and it were grace-
less amid the pleasures of a prosperous summer to re-
gret the blossoms of a transient spring. Neither un-
warily condemn your bride's insipidity till you have re-
collected that no object however sublime, no sounds
however charming, can continue to transport us with
delight when they no longer strike us with novelty.
The skill to renovate the powers of pleasing are said
indeed to be possessed by some women in an eminent
degree; but the artifices of maturity are seldom seen
to adorn the innocence of youth: you have made your
choice, and ought to approve it.
Satiety follows quickly upon the heels of possession;
and to be happy, we must always have something in
view. The person of your, lady is already all your
own, and will not grow more pleasing in your eyes I
doubt, though the rest of your sex will think her hand-
somer for these dozen of years. Turn therefore all
your attention to her mind, which will daily grow
brighter by polishing. Study some easy science toge-
ther, and acquire a similarity of tastes while you en-
joy a community of pleasures. You will by this means
have many images in common, and be freed from the
necessity of separating to find amusement. Nothing
is so dangerous to wedded love as the possibility of ei-
ther being happy out the company of the other:
endeavour


308 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
endeavour therefore to cement the present intimacy on
every side; let your wife never be kept ignorant of
your income, your expences, your friendships, or aver-
sions; let her know your very faults, but make them
amiable by your virtues; consider all concealment as
a breach of fidelity; let her never have any thing to
find out in your character; and remember, that from
the moment one of the partners turns spy upon the
other, they have commenced a state of hostility.
Seek not for happiness in singularity; and dread a
refinement of wisdom as a deviation into folly. Listen
not to those sages who advise you always to scorn the
counsel of a woman, and if you comply with her re-
quests pronounce you to be wise-ridden. Think not
any privation, except of positive evil, an excellence,
and do not congratulate yourself that your wife is not
a learned lady, that she never, touches a card, or is
wholly ignorant how to make a pudding. Cards,
cookery, and learning, are all good in their places, and
may all be used with advantage.
With regard to expence, I can only observe, that
the money laid out in the purchase of distinction is
seldom or ever profitably employed. We live in an
age when splendid furniture and glittering equipage are
grown too common to catch the notice of the meanest
ipectator; and for the greator ones, they only regard
our wasteful folly with silent contempt, or open indig-
nation.—This may perhaps be a displeasing reflection,
but the following consideration ought to make amends.
The age wre live in pays, I think, peculiar attention
to the higher distinctions of wit, knowledge, and vir-
tue, to which we may more safely, more cheaply, and
more honorably aspire. The giddy flirt of quality
frets at the respect she sees paid to Lady Edgecumbe,
and the gay dunce fits pining for a partner, while
Jones the orientalist leads up the ball.
I said 

309 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
I said that the person of your lady would not grow
more pleasing to you, but pray let her never suspect
that it grows less so: that a women will pardon an 
affront to her understanding much sooner than one to 
her person is well known; nor will any of us contra-
dict the assertion. All our attainments, all our arts, are 
employed to gain and keep the heart of man: and 
what mortification can exceed the disappointment, if 
the end be not obtained? There is no reproof however
pointed, no punishment however severe, that a woman 
of spirit will not prefer to neglect; and if she can en- 
dure it without complaint, it only proves that she
means to make herself amends by the attention of others
for the slights of her husband. For this, and for every 
reason, it behoves a married man not to let his polite-
ness fail, though his ardour may abate, but to retain 
at least that general civility towards his own lady which
he is so willing to pay to every other, and not shew a 
wife of eighteen or twenty years old, that every man
in company can treat her with more complaisance than 
he, who so often vowed to her eternal fondness. 
It is not my opinion that a young woman should be 
indulged in every wild wish of her gay heart or giddy
head; but contradiction may be softened by domestic
kindness, and quiet pleasures substituted in the place of 
noisy ones. Public amusements are not indeed so ex-
pensive as is sometimes imagined, but they tend to 
alienate the minds of married people from each other. 
A well chosen society of friends and acquaintance,
more eminent for virtue and good sense than for gaiety
and splendour, where the conversation of the day may
afford comment for the evening, seems the most rati-
onal pleasure this great town can afford; and to this,
a game at cards now and then gives an additional relish.
That your own superiority should always be seen,
but never felt seems an excellent general rule. A wife
should outshine her husband in nothing, not even in her 
Xx dress.—


310 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
dress.—If she happens to have a taste for the trifling
distinction that finery can confer, suffer her not for a
moment to fancy, when she appears in public, that Sir
Edward or the Colonel are finer gentlemen than her
husband. The bane of married happiness among the
city men in general has been, that finding themselves
unfit for polite-life, they transferred their vanity to
their ladies, dressed them up gaily, and sent them out
a gallanting, while the good man was to regale with
port wine or rum punch, perhaps among mean compa-
nions, after the compting house was shut: this prac-
tice produced the ridicule thrown on them in all our
comedies and novels since commerce began to prosper.
But now that I am so near the subject, a word or two
on jealousy may not be amiss; for though not a failing
of the present age's growth, yet the seeds of it are too
certainly sown in every warm bosom for us to neglect it
as a fault of no consequence. If you are ever tempted
to be jealous, watch your wife narrowly—but never
tease her; tell her your jealousy, but conceal your
suspicion; let her, in short, be satisfied that it is only
your odd temper, and even trouble some attachment,
that makes you follow her; but let her not dream that
you ever doubted seriously of her virtue even for a mo-
ment. If she is disposed towards jealousy of you, let
me beseech you to be always explicit with her and ne-
ver mysterious: be above delighting in her pain of all
things—nor do your business nor pay your visits with
an air of concealment, when all you are doing might
as well be proclaimed perhaps in the parish vestry. But
I hope better than this of your tenderness and of your
virtue, and will release you from a lecture you have so
little need of, unless your extreme youth and my un-
common regard will excuse it. And now farewell;
make my kindest compliments to your wife, and be
happy in proportion as happiness is wished you by,
Dear Sir, &c.
CHAP.


311 OF THE FAIR SEX.
CHAP. LXII. 
GARRICK'S ADVICE TO MARRIED LADIES.
I.
YE fair married dames, who so often deplore,
That a lover once blest is a lover no more;
Attend to my counsel, nor blush to be taught,
That prudence must cherish what beauty has caught.
II.
The bloom of your cheek, and the glance of your eye,
Your roses and lilies may make the men sigh;
But roses, and lilies, and sighs pass away,
And passion will die as your beauties decay.
III.
Use the man that you wed like your fav'rite guitar, 
Tho' music in both, they are both apt to jar;
How tuneful and soft from a delicate touch,
Not handled too roughly, nor play'd on too much!
IV.
The sparrow and linnet will seed from your hand,
Grow tame by your kindness, and come at command:
Exert with your husband the same happy skill,
For hearts, like your birds, may be tam'd to your will.
V. 
Be gay and good-humour'd, complying and kind,
Turn the chief of your care from your face to your mind;
'Tis thus that a wife may her conquests improve,
And hymen shall rivet the fetters of love.
CHAP. 

312 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
CHAP. LXIII.
ON WIDOWHOOD.
THE history of all antiquity gives the strongest
reasons to suspect, that widows were often the
prey of the lawless tyrant, who spoiled them with im-
punity, because they had none to help them. In
many places of scripture, we frequently find the state
of the widow and the fatherless depicted as of all others
the most forlorn and miserable; and men of honour and
probity, in enumerating their own good actions, plac-
ing a principal share of them in not having spoiled the
widow and the fatherless. “ If I have lift up my hand
“ against the fatherless," says Job, “ or have caused
“ the eyes of the widow to fail, then let mine arm fall
“ from my shoulder, and be broken from the bone.”
In the book of Exodus it is declared as a law, “ that
“ ye shall not afflict the widow, or the fatherless child.
“ If thou afflict them in any ways, and they cry unto
“ me, I will surely hear their cry; and my wrath
“ shall wax hot, and I will kill you with the sword,
“ and your wives shall be windows, and your children
“ fatherless."
In the eighth century, one of the canon laws enact-
ed, that none shall presume to disturb widows, orphans,
and weak people; and no sentence could be executed
against a widow, without advising the bishop of the
diocese of it. These circumstances create a strong
suspicion, that windows were often oppressed; other-
wise, why so many laws for their particular protection?
Among many of the ancients, widows were, by
custom, restricted from having a second husband. Al-
most over all the East, and among many tribes of the
Tartars, they believed that wives were not only de-
stined to serve their husbands in this world, but in the 
next 


313 OF THE FAIR SEX.
next also; and as every wife there was to be the sole
property of her first husband, she could never obtain
a second, because he could only secure to himself her
service in this life.
When the Greeks became sensible of the benefits
arising from the regulations of Cecrops concerning
matrimony, they conceived so high an idea of them,
that they affixed a degree of infamy on the woman
who married a second husband, even after the death of
the first; and it was more than two centuries after the
time of Cecrops before any woman dared to make the
attempt. Their history has transmitted to posterity,
with some degree of infamy, the name of her who first
ventured on a second marriage. Gorgophona, the
daughter of Perseus and Andromeda, begin the prac-
tice; a practice which, though soon after followed by
others, could not, even by the multitude of its vota-
ries, be screened from the public odium. During a
great part of the heroic ages, widows, who married
again, were considered as having offended against pub-
ic decency. To this custom Virgil plainly alludes,
when he describes the conflict in the breast of Dido, be-
tween her love for Æneas, and fear of wounding her ho-
nour by a second marriage. Nay, so scrupulous were
the Greeks about second marriages, that in some cir-
cumstances even men were with difficulty allowed to
enter into them. Charonidas excluded all those from
the public councils of the state, who had children,
and married a second wife. “ It is impossible,” said he,
“ that a man can advise well for his country, who
“ does not consult the good of his own family. He,
“ whose first marriage has been happy, ought to rest
“ satisfied with that happiness; if unhappy, he must be
“ out of his senses to risque being so again.”
The Romans borrowed this custom of the Greeks,
and considered it not only as a kind of breach of the
matrimonial vow in the woman, but also as affecting
the 


314 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
the man nearly in the same manner, that her infidelity
would have affected him while he was living. “ The
“ soul of a deceased husband,” says Justinian, “ is
“ disturbed when his wife marries a second.”
In Cumana, when a husband dies, it is said they
make the widow swear, that she will preserve and keep
by her his head during her life. This is intended as a
monitor, to tell her that she is never to enter again
into the married state.
Among the ancient Jews and Christians of the pri-
mitive ages, there were certain orders of men, who
were not allowed to join themselves in marriage with
widows. “ A priest,” says Moses, “ shall not take to
“ wife a widow, or a divorced woman, or prophane,
“ or an harlot; but he shall take a virgin of his own
“ people to wife.”
Pope Syricus, copying the example set by Moses,
ordained that if a bishop married a widow, he should
be degraded. In the year 400, we find it decreed in
the Cyprian council, that if a reader married a widow,
he should never be preferred in the church; and that
if a subdeacon did the same, be should be degraded to
a door-keeper or reader.
In the Doomsday book, we find the king exacted
only a fine of ten shillings for liberty to marry a
maiden; but it cost twenty to obtain liberty of mar-
rying a widow.
Several legislators have fixed a certain time, within
which widows should not be allowed to marry. Among
the Romans this was ten months. Among other na-
tions it varied according to the regard they thought
due to a deceased husband; and the expression of that
regard which ought to be shown by his wife.
In the eleventh century the church decreed, that a
widow should not marry within the space of one year
after her release from the bonds of matrimony. The
laws of Geneva shorten this period to half a year. But
as
 

315 OF THE FAIR SEX.
as there are few countries, in which the matter is
taken up by the legislature, it is more commonly regu-
lated by custom thin by law.
About a century ago, widows in Scotland, and in
Spain, were the dress of mourners till death, or a
second husband, put an end to the ceremony. In
Spain the widow passed the first year of her mourning
in a chamber hung with black, into which day-light
was never suffered to enter. She then changed her
dark and dismal scene for a chamber hung with grey,
into which she sometimes admitted an intrusive sun-
beam to penetrate. In neither of these apartments did
custom allow her looking glasses, nor plate, nor any
thing but the most plain and necessary furniture. Nor
was she to have any jewels on her person, nor to wear
any colour but black.
We are so much accustomed in Europe to see mourn-
ers dressed in black, that we have affixed a melancholy
idea to that colour. Black is not, however, univer-
sally appropriated to this purpose. The dress of Chi-
nese mourners is white; that of the Turks blue; of
the Peruvians a mouse-colour; of the Egyptians yel-
low, and in some of their provinces green. Purple is
at present made use of as the mourning dress of king
and cardinals.
Some tribes of American savages allot a widow the
tedious space of four years to chastity and to mourning.
To this mourning and continency are added particular
austerities. Every evening and morning, during the
first year, a widow is obliged to lament her loss in loud
and lugubrious strains. But, if her husband was a war-
chief, she is then, during the first moon, to fit the
whole day under his war-pole, and there incessantly to
bewail her lost lord, without any shelter from the heat,
the cold, or whatever weather shall happen.
This war-pole is a tree stuck in the ground, with the
top and branches cut off. It is painted red, and all the
weapons 


316 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
weapons and trophies of war, which belonged to the
deceased, are hung on it, and remain there till they rot.
In several parts of Africa, a country of tyranny and
despotism, women are not only doomed to be the slaves
of their husbands in this world, but, according to their
opinion, in the next also. The husband is no sooner
dead, than his wives, concubines, servants, and even
sometimes horses, must be strangled, in order to render
him the same services in a future life which they did
in this.
At the Cape of Good Hope, in order that widows
may not impose themselves on the men for virgins, they
are obliged by law to cut off a joint from the finger for
every husband that dies. This joint they present to
their new husband on the day of their marriage.
The Hindoos do not bury their dead after the man-
ner of many other nations, but burn their bodies upon
a large pile of wood erected for the purpose. Upon
this pile the most beloved wife, and in some place, it
is said, all the wives of great men are obliged to devote
themselves to the flames which consume the body of
their husbands.
In the history of the Bucaniers of America, it is
said, that a widow in the Carribee Islands is obliged
every day, for the space of one year, to earn victuals
to the grave of her deceased husband; and the year
being expired, she must dig up his bones, wash and
dry them in the sun, put them in a satchel, carry them
on her back all day, and sleep upon them all night, for
the space of another year. Cruel custom! if it really
exists. But the anonymous author of the history
abounds so much in the marvellous, that he deserves
but little credit.
Herodotus informs us, that among the ancient Cre-
tonians, a people of Thrace, widows, assisted by all
their relations, made interest who should be preferred
to


317 OF THE FAIR SEX.
to the honour of being killed on the grave of the de-
ceased husband.
In China, if widows have had children, they become
absolute mistresses of themselves, and their relations
have no power to compel them to become widows, nor
to give them to another husband. It is not, however,
reputable for a widow, who has children, to enter into
a second marriage, without great necessity, especially
if she is a woman of distinction. In this case, although
she has been a wife only a few hours, or barely con-
tracted, she frequently thinks herself obliged to pass
the rest of her days in widowhood—and thereby to
testify to the world the esteem and veneration she had
for her husband or lover.
In the middle stations of life, the relations of some
deceased husband, eager to reimburse the family in
the sum which the wife originally cost it, oblige her
to marry, or rather fell her to another husband, if she
has no male issue. Sometimes, indeed, it happens that
the future husband has concluded the bargain, and paid
the money for her, before she is acquainted with the
transaction. By the laws of China, a widow cannot
be sold to another husband, till the time of her mourn-
ing for the first expires. So desirous, however, are
the friends often to dispose of her, that they pay no
regard to this law; but, on a complaint being made
to a mandarin, he is obliged to do her justice. As she
is commonly unwilling to be bartered for in this man-
ner, without her content or knowledge, as soon as the
bargain it struck, a covered chair, with a considerable
number of lusty fellows is brought to her house. Be-
ing forcibly put into this chair, she is conveyed to the
house of her new husband, who takes care to secure
her.
In Europe, a widow in tolerable circumstances is
more mistress of herself than any other woman; being
free from that guardianship and controul to which the
Y sex 


318 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
sex are subject while virgins, and while wives. In no
part of Europe is this more exemplified than at Parma,
and some other places of Italy; where a widow is the
only female who is at liberty either to choose a husband,
or assume the government of any of her actions.
Should a virgin pretend to choose for herself, it would
be reckoned the most profligate licentiousness. Should
she govern her actions or opinions, she would be consi-
dered as the most pert, and perhaps the most abandon-
ed, of her sex.
Politeness and humanity have joined their efforts in
Europe to render the condition of widows comfort-
able. The government of England has provided a
fund for the widow's of officers. The clergy of Scot-
land have voluntarily raised a stock to support the wi-
dows of their order. Many incorporated trades have
followed these laudable examples. This case is not
confined to Britain. It extends to France, Germany,
and other countries, where it exists in forms too various
to be delineated.
The ancient laws of a great part of Europe ordained,
that a widow should lose her dower, if she married
again, or suffered her chastity to be corrupted. The
laws of Prussia retain this ordinance to the present
time. They likewise ordain that a widow shall not
marry again, within nine months after the death of
her husband.
The Prussians have another regulation concerning
widows, highly descriptive of the humanity and wisdom
of their legislature. When a widower and widow in-
tend to marry, one or both of which having children,
as it too frequently happens that such children are
either despised or neglected, in consequence of the
new connections formed, and perhaps of the new off-
spring raised up, the laws of Prussia provide for their
education and fortune, according to the rank and cir-
cumstances of the parents; and will not suffer either
man 


319 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
man or woman to enter into a second marriage, with-
out previously settling with the children of the first.
CHAP. LXIV.
THE WISH.
A NEAT little box on the side of a hill,
At the bottom of which runs a murmuring rill;
The soil should be healthy, and temp'rate the air,
And, to add to my prospect, I'd have a parterre.
The sweet rose of Sharon my walks should adorn,
Just under my window I'll fancy a lawn,
Where delicate shrubs should be planted with taste,
And none of my ground be seen running to waste.
Instead of Italians, the linnet and thrush
Would with harmony greet me from every bush;
Those gay feather'd songsters do rapture inspire!
Those gay feather'd songsters do rapture inspire!
What music so soft as the heavenly chair!
My furniture elegant, simple, and plain,
Not any thing gaudy, expensive, or vain;
My friends should repose on a pillow of down,
Nor even from me should they meet with a frown.
A study, replete with good authors I'd choose,
That, if serious or gay, might instruct or amuse;
No new-fashion'd novel, or gilded romance, [France. 
Should there find a place, though it travel'd from
My 

320 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
My table I'd cover with old English cheer,
No kickshaws, or luxury, should be seen here:
I would treat you with port, and a service of fruit:
But modern extravagance ne'er should take root.
If, to crown my felicity, fortune would lend
A sensible, sprightly, compassionate friend,
One free from suspicion!— if such could be found,
He soon should be master of this fairy ground.
CHAP. LXV.
A SINGULAR EPISTLE:
TAKEN FROM A GENUINE COPY.
MADAM,
I AM a little afraid you and I shall never come to-
gether. There is that expectation of flattery
about you, which I cannot bear. Yet as I love you well
enough to be honest—a bold word that—I will once
for all speak my mind, and I desire your attention.
I believe I do not admire nor value you for any of
those charms, for which you admire and value yourself.
I do not, for instance, pay any adoration to the present
brightness of your eyes, because I am so strange a fel-
low as to consider them philosophically. They are
very brilliant, to be sure? but what are they? What
are they, madam, ab origine? Fops, Fools, and Poets,
would, in their usual airy manner, tell you, that they
were made of celestial fire, that they were two ani-
mated balls of beauty, two love-darting mirrors, formed
by

321 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
by the Graces, and a pack of such stuff. But I scorn
to figure away at the expence of fair truth. I write
in honest prose, madam; and therefore in honest prose
I tell you, that those same balls of ethereal beauty,
those same love-darting mirrors, are at best two pieces
of ordinary clay varnished. The varnish, I allow, is
good, and well put on. But what of all this? I am
not so short-sighted, but I can look forward a little,
beyond the length of my nose, to the time when the
gloss will all be worn away, when the japan of nature
will be utterly gone, and not a spark of fire will you
have about you. If you live long enough, you will be
purblind, and then what becomes of your love-darters?
Don't be quite so vain, my young beauty.
Another mighty matter upon which you have, it
seems, to pique yourself, is you face. I mean such
things as we call cheeks, lips, and complexion. I wish
it to be known to you, that I have but a very poor opi-
nion of these divine graces, as you call them.
Some time ago, I remember you shewed me, in a
great air of triumph, a paper scrawled upon by some
florid puppy of your acquaintance, who swore, in very
sorry verses, that your cheeks threw into utter despair
all the roses and lilies in the creation. Your skin too
was, it I recollect, polished marble. The veins were
compared to the azure of the third heaven, and the
colour was whiter than alabaster.
'Tis a lie, Priscilla, 'tis a sad lie. You are indebted
to poetical fiction for all this trash. The rogues who
deal in it have, as they tell us, licence from that silly
fellow Apollo to play such pranks with idle girls and
boys who believe them. For my part I never could be ta-
ken in by the tag of a rhyme, nor the cadence of a cou-
plet, nor the transposition of ten fancy syllables, since I
was born. I always looked upon them as mere ear traps.
What a collection of falsities is here, indeed! I ne-
ver saw a pair of cheeks in my life that were fairer
Y2 than 


322 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
than a lily, nor a pair of lips that were redder than a
rose. As to alabaster, I will take upon me to say,
there never, was a woman's skin half so white in the
whole world; and I should be very glad to see a com-
plexion so well polished as a piece of Egyptian marble.
No, no; these flights will not pass upon men of
cool prose. They will not, indeed, Priscilla. Meta-
phor, metaphor, my dear, is a mere bam. It tickles
the child's ear; but I heartily despise it.
Not but that I give to a fine form its proper portion
of praise. I am perfectly sensible to handsome features.
I like to see the proper proportions of red and white,
I am very well pleased with a sparkling pair of eyes,
but I have no idea of calling any of these what they
really are not, nor of comparing them with objects to
which they have no likeness whatever. For instance
now, your bosom is said to be purer than the driven
snow. If that is not carrying the jest as far as it will
fairly go, I don't know what is.—Why, madam, if
a snow-ball and your bosom were shewn together, and
any thing in the world but a poet to be the judge, he
would say that you were a swarthy gripsey in the com-
parison.
But how you ladies can be pleased with all this
high-flying is to me astonishing.—If a man was to
compare me to a stick or a stone, or a tree, or a plant,
that I was no more like than I am like the main ocean,
should I perk up my head, and look about me the more
for that?
As to features, skin, complexion, &c. they are so
truly things of to-day, that if I was a woman I should
be afraid to put any trust in them. They have more
enemies that the ever-persecuted have. I could recount
such a catalogue as would make
“ Your hair to stand on end,
“ Like quills upon the fretful porcupine.”
Go 

323 OF THE FAIR SEX.
Go into your garden. Fix your attention on the
fairest flower. Take care that it is in the luxuriance
of its bloom. Did you ever behold tints more exqui-
site, scollops more exact, colours better mixed, or beau-
ties better varied? Now leave it. Pay it a second visit
to-morrow morning. What are you surprised at?
That a flower should fade! A slight blast of wind in
the night hath wholly destroyed it. The tints are
dead. The colours are faded. The beauty is no more.
Step now to your toilette. Indeed, Priscilla, you are
very pretty. What a face, what an air, what a shape!
In the evening, one of the thousand enemies of hand-
some features overtakes you, and your second visit to
the mirror shews—an ugly woman.
I believe you have sense enough, Priscilla, to see
whereto all this tends:—It tends, Priscilla, to your
instruction. I would not have you fix too violent a
dependance on features.
Nor do I, Priscilla, estimate you according to your
wealth. Certain it is, that your father left you rich.
But I wish you were not so fascinated with these pos-
sessions. I heard you talk in such raptures of a new
coach, and new diamonds, that I am much afraid you
are far gone in the fripperies of life.
A slight fever would soon shew you the impotency
of gold, and it would divest you of all the trappings, in
which you have wantonly dressed the finest set horses
in the universe.
Every thing I have mentioned is held on a sad te-
nure, even the tenure of a regular pulse.
I think there is, under all your false ideas, a good
heart. 'Tis this, Priscilla, which draw me towards
you. I think I could banish the frailties that cling at
present about you affections. If you can bear me
after this letter, I shall have a better opinion of you
than ever. If you are offended, and take pet at it,
I shall 


324 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
I shall lose you it is true; but then I shall know by ex-
perience that your love was not worth seeking.
I know we should live very happy together, if you
would but comply with my terms. They are neither
difficult nor various. First, break your looking-glass.
Secondly, turn all your poets out of doors. Thirdly,
throw their verses into the fire: and lastly, make a
solemn vow never more to put your trust in metaphors
and comparisons, two cursed things; which have done
more injury to young women than libertinism itself.
What say you? Will you agree to these conditions,
and take to your bosom, without either lace on his
coat, poetry in his head, or puppyism at his heart,
Your old friend, and
humble servant,
PETER P—
CHAP. LXVI.
THE SPECIOUS LOVER.
LADY Bladen was left by the late Sir William in
a very affluent situation, with only two daughters,
coheiresses to their father's large estates; who, in con-
sequence of their possessions, and their prospects, as their
mother had discouraged all overtures, towards a second
marriage, had many admirers, and received many ad-
dresses. Several men made proposals who had fair pre-
tensions; and others who had no pretensions at all,
from the scantiness of their fortunes, endeavoured, by
their solicitudes and attentions, to make an impression
upon then hearts? naturally supposing, that by gain-
ing 

325 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
ing their affections, they might preclude a very minute
enquiry into their rent-rolls.
Miss Bladen, the eldest, was a very fine figure; she
had a pair of sparkling eyes, and an animated com-
plexion. Emilia, the younger sister, was a less regular,
but, perhaps, a more pleasing beauty upon the whole,
as there was a very affecting expression of sensibility
in her countenance; which was indeed, a very exact
picture of her mind, a mind amiable in the highest de-
gree.
As the fortunes of these two sisters were equal, they
had an equal number of men in their train, desirous of
being united to them; but not one of Emilia's followers
had the good luck to make himself agreeable to her:
she, on the other hand, became a very zealous advocate
for a Mr. Selwyn, who was passionately attached to her
sister. Selwyn was every way deserving of the interest
which Emilia took in his affairs; but while she expressed
herself warmly in his favour, Maria treated him with a
levity which gave him an infinite deal of disquiet.
When she first encouraged him, indeed, she really pre-
ferred him to the rest of her followers? yet she was
fond of flirting with every other man who came in her
way, and at length became so particular to a Mr. John-
son, with whom she commenced an acquaintance at
Southampton, that Selwyn grew seriously alarmed;
and as a man who is in a restless, agitated state, is sel-
dom so ageeable, or capable of rendering himself so,
as he whose burnt is perfectly at ease, Johnson had
greatly the advantage over him. By rallying him,
therefore, before Miss Bladen, and laughing at him,
with her, when he was absent, he made her see him in
a less pleasing light; in a very little time, he set her
entirely against him, and recommended himself to her
so strongly, that she began to discover every kind of
contempt for Selwyn, while she gave his rival all the
reason in the world to believe she liked him.
Johnson 


326 HISTORICAL SKETCHES.
Johnson availing, himself of Maria's animating beha-
viour to him, of all her apparent prepossessions in his
favour, made his court to her with so much success,
that Lady Bladen in a short time perceived that she
was more partial to him than to Selwyn, and many
other gentlemen who solicited her consent.
Johnson, with an unaffected carelessness about him,
had, however, the most insinuating manners to be con-
ceived: with those manners he made himself extremely
caressed by all ranks and classes of people; with those
manners, an handsome person, and an uncommon taste
in dress, he was an alluring figure in the eyes of Maria,
at least, who was too much prejudiced by his appear-
ance, and almost as vain of having her lover thought a
fine fellow, as she was of being reckoned a fine woman
herself. Selwyn, it is true, was elegantly formed, and
had a very intelligent face; but he was not altogether
so striking: a peculiar delicacy of discernment was ne-
cessary to find out his excellencies. However, with all
his amiable qualities, qualities for which he was to be
highly valued, he was keenly susceptible of jealousy,
Maria gave him cause, indeed: yet had he made use
of his reason, he must have been sensible that a woman
of such a capricious, changeable disposition, could not
be a desirable character, could not merit the affection
he felt for her. Having complained to her, one day,
of her neglect of him, and of her encouraging behaviour
to Johnson, in gentle language; he received so unwel-
come an answer, that he was stimulated to proceed in
a more ungentle style. He told her, in very plain terms,
raising his voice, that she had used him ill by neglect-
ing him for a new admirer, who could not, he was well
assured, love her better than he did, and who did not,
he believed, love her half so well.
Miss Bladen, naturally haughty and impatient of
controul from any person, especially from a man whom
she looked upon as bound in duty to submit to her plea-
sure, 


327 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
sure, replied with a fierté, which was neither becoming
in her, or pleasing to her lover. In consequence of this
treatment, he began to consider what advantages John-
son possessed to make him so formidable a rival. He
allowed him all the superior advantages of dress, which
he thought of little importance; as any man who paid
the same attention to the embellishment of his person,
might, he believed, make as good an appearance; and
he at the same time was of opinion, that the woman
captivated by that fort of personal merit (if it deserved
the name, as every coxcomb in town might acquire it)
discovered a very weak understanding. In the next
place he considered, that he had never heard any thing
either of Johnson's family, or estate: he, therefore,
concluded, that he was not a man of birth or fortune;
and that he paid his addresses to Miss Bladen with the
most mercenary views. However, as he did not ima-
gine he should talk with her to any purpose, upon a
subject to which she apparently had a considerable aver-
sion, he applied to Emilia for information. She told
him, immediately, that she knew very little about Mr.
Johnson; adding, that she did not believe her mother or
her sister knew much more concerning him. “ His spe-
cious appearance and behaviour,” continued she, “ have
so taken their fancies, that I imagine they have never
troubled their heads with making enquiries into the
truth of what you have related, I recollect, indeed,
that he has mentioned his being of an Irish family;
and I suppose, that my mother must have had a satis-
factory account of him: without such an account she
would not, surely, have permitted him to visit my sister
so often, and to appear with her in public.”
Selwyn, still too much in love with Maria to be so
easily satisfied as Lady Bladen was with what she might
have heard about Johnson, began to think that he was
one of the Society of Gentlemen from Ireland, who,
being rather in strait circumstances, endeavour to im-
prove 


328 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
prove their situations by marrying women of fortune.
Prompted by this conjecture, he wrote over to a friend
he had in that kingdom, sent him a full length of John-
son, and begged to be informed if he knew any thing 
of him, and of his connections. He also set his own
servant to get all the intelligence he possibly could in
town, of the same kind. The latter soon brought him
word, that Mr. Johnson was only a hair-dresser, who
went over to France to improve himself in his profession,
and who being expert at catching the manners as well
as the fashions of the country, became so clever at his
business, and had so genteel an address, that a young
English nobleman making the tour of Italy, took him
into his suite. “ By rendering himself useful to his
lordship,” continued Harry, “ he not only reaped
the fruits of his generosity, by the possession of more
money and clothes than he had ever been master of be- 
fore, but he also got a new set of notions in his head,
and fancied that if he could draw in any girl with a
good fortune, he might live as genteelly as the man of
quality whom he served. Accordingly, he quitted his
master, returned to England, set up for himself, and
chose Southampton for his field of action, as it hap-
pened to be pretty full; not doubting but that he
should recommend himself to some woman, who had
a fortune sufficient to make himself easy for life. Miss
Bladen was the first lady who fell in his way at a ball.
He was drest au dernier gout, being just arrived from
Paris; and as he had there taken lessons from the most
celebrated masters in dancing, fencing, &c. he exhibited
himself in so favourable a point of view, that most of
the ladies seemed desirous to have him for a partner:
but having informed himself that Miss Bladen had
£.20,000, and that Lady Bladen was not so strict as
some mothers would have been who had two such
daughters under her care, he contrived to dance with
her, and made himself so agreeable both to her and her
mother, 


329 OF THE FAIR SEX.
mother, that an acquaintance immediately commenced,
which soon grew into an intimacy, and from an inti-
macy into an apparent attachment.”
This information was sufficient for Selwyn: he
found, in a short time, that he had received a just ac-
count, and he thought it highly necessary to avail him-
self of it, and chose the manner of detection when his
rival was met in company, not only with Miss Bladen,
but with her mother and sister.
Coming in one afternoon, he found his rival sitting
with the two sisters, and Lady Bladen, in the drawing
room; and soon after his entrance began to charge
him with being an impostor, who had, by his specious
appearance, deceived the family he was then with, by
making them believe that he was a man of fashion and
fortune, when he knew he was only a hair-dresser.
Lady Bladen and Emilia started at the accusation:
the former looked exceedingly alarmed. The pre-
tended Johnson affected a carelessness and composure,
which would have been, he hoped, powerful enough to
prove his innocence. Maria, seeing him so unembar-
rassed, concluded that he could not possibly be the per-
son Selwyn endeavoured to make them believe he was,
and joined in his affected laugh. His mirth, however,
was soon checked. On Lady Bladen's earnestly desir-
ing Selwyn to tell her how he procured this intelligence,
and whether it was properly authenticated; he assured
her that she might depend upon it, and gave a circum-
stantial account of what he had heard. Johnson, now
extremely discovered, on finding that Selwyn was
master of every particular relating to his adventures,
rose up, discovered the greatest agitation, and attempted
to bully Selwyn: he actually went so far as to give him
the lie direct. Selwyn then took him by the shoulders,
and very fairly kicked him out of the room. When he
had dismissed him in this ignominious manner, he seated
himself in his place, by Miss Bladen, and asked her how 
Z she, 


330 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
she, as a woman of spirit, could encourage so tame a
lover; laughing at her also, with much archness, but
great good-humour, upon her having been so easily dup-
ed. She made no reply, but pouted and looked sullen.
Lady Bladen then hoping to give a cheerful turn to
the conversation, which had been disagreeably serious,
said, “ Come, Maria, think no more of this worthless
impostor: we are all liable to be mistaken in a character
sometimes; we are not the first family who have been
imposed upon: let us be thankful that the man who
has deceived us all has been discovered in time; let us,
as we ought, be particularly grateful to Mr. Selwyn
for our preservation, whom you can best reward, my
dear, by giving him your hand, and promising to be
his.” “ Mr. Selwyn, madam,” replied Maria haugh-
tily, “ wished to serve nobody but himself, and is
therefore as much interested as any other man.” I
agree with you, Miss Bladen,” answered Selwyn, “ I
am so far interested as never to make that woman my
wife who despises me; especially while I dare hope
(turning to Emilia, and taking her hand) that there
is one who will not refuse my solicitations to accept of
a heart, which, on my first acquaintance with the fa-
mily, would have been hers, had I not, from her ex-
treme diffidence, been kept ignorant of her infinite
merit.” This unexpected address surprised all the
three ladies; but it had a different effect upon each of
them. Maria, though she had used Selwyn ill, was
much hurt at his preferring her sister; while that sis-
ter, who had long loved him, but who had endeavour-
ed to conceal her sentiments, thinking him engaged to
Maria, felt herself ready to expire with joy to find
the man whom she had for a considerable time tenderly
esteemed, ready to make her completely happy. As
for Lady Bladen, who began to be exceedingly dis-
turbed at the behaviour of her eldest daughter to the
man who had merited a very different treatment, and
of 


331 OF THE FAIR SEX.
of whose intrinsic value she was now become more sen-
sible than ever; she rejoiced to see that she had still a
daughter to bestow upon him, as a recompence for his
saving the other from her being fatally connected with
a sharper.
CHAP. LXVII.
FRIENDSHIP IMPROVED INTO LOVE.
I.
WHERE the light cannot pierce, in a grove of tall trees,
With my fair one as blooming as May,
Undisturb'd by all, sound but the sighs of the breeze,
Let me pass the hot noon of the day.
II.
When the sun, less intense, to the westward inclines,
For the meadows the groves we'll forsake,
And set the rays dance, as inverted be shines,
On the face of some river or lake:
III.
Where my fairest and I, on its verge as we pass
(For 'tis she that must still be my theme)
Our shadows may view on the watery glass,
While the fish are play in the stream. 
IV.
May the herds cease to low, and the lambskins to bleat,
When she sings me some rapturous strain;
All be silent and hush'd, unless echo repeat
The kind words and sweet sounds back again!
And

332 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
V.
And when we return to our cottage at night,
Hand in hand as we sauntering stray,
Let the moon's silver beams through the leaves give us light,
Just direct us, and chequer our way:
VI.
Let the nightingale warble its notes in our walk,
As thus gently and slowly we move;
And let no single thought be express'd in our talk,
But of friendship improv'd into love.
VII.
Thus enchanted each day with these rural delights,
And secure from ambitions alarms,
Soft love and repose shall divide all our nights,
And each morning shall rise with new charms.
CHAP. LXVIII.
TWO VERY SINGULAR FEMALE CHARACTERS DE-
SCRIBED:
IN A LETTER TO A LITERARY GENTLEMAN.
THOUGH the rise of many satirical portraits
may not appear obvious to every reader, yet I
know not whether they may not be productive of sa-
lutary effects; as the exposing of vice and absurdity
bids the fairest for success, men being sooner laughed
than reasoned out of their follies. It seems, however,
extraordinary, if not paradoxical, that men of the po-
litest education, and greatest affluence, should suffer
themselves to be hurried along the stream of folly, and
dissipation, and by an improper use of their authority
should 

333 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
should render themselves of no estimation in the eyes
of their servants and domestics, whom though they
may frighten by their tyranny, can never force to re-
verence and esteem them.
The ladies too (though with due reverence to the
worthier part of them) exceed if possible the other
sex, in every species of impertinence and inconsistency,
When the mind is immersed in folly and dissipation, it
is scarcely credible to think to what lengths of absur-
dity we may be driven. I have spent the greatest por-
tion of time in what are called the potted families;
but, alas! they are only called so, as many of them,
through a ridiculous imperious conduct, sink themselves
greatly below what they call plebeian. As they most
certainly conceive themselves of a superior order of be-
ings, it seems altogether unaccountable to me that they
should not endeavour to attain to perfections, that would
give some colour to their claim to this distinguished
pre-eminence: but, from the general tenor of their
conduct, they seem to affect imperfections and ab-
surdities to attain that character. But as facts are al-
ways more striking than the most severe reprehensions
to reprove vice, I shall give you a sketch of the cha-
racters of two ladies whom I had the honor to serve,
or, in other words, whose rigorous mandates I was
compelled to execute, and whose imperious behaviour
I was necessitated to endure.
My first mistress, who was a widow, was one who
had adopted it as an undeniable truth, that those whom
she styled the vulgar, were only to be considered as her
vassals or slaves; and her conduct has evinced her at- 
tachment to these principles. The first three weeks
after I entered the service, I seldom saw this modern
fullaness, but received my orders from another person.
I was in some hopes that my services would be ren-
dered somewhat more tolerable by my acting under 
commission; but I was deceived. It seems her eldest 
Z2 son


334 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
son (who was about seventeen years of age, a minute
puny dwarf about four feet high) had represented to
his mother, that I had dared one evening, in summer, to
request his going to bed at eleven. Her highness gave
me to understand, that gentleman (meaning her scara-
mouch) was not to be insulted by creatures like me:
that her son should go to bed when he pleased, unless
persons of consequence gave orders to the contrary.
Was her son to be ordered by the scum of the earth?
She then commanded this minute gentleman in my hear-
ing, not to speak to, or make the least familiarity with
such low wretches. This was followed by a stern look
at me, accompanied with a dreadful menace what should
be the consequence of my future temerity.
This infatuated woman was so consummately ambi-
tious as to order me to take the mop and scour the
place wherein any visitor happened to stand while
speaking to her, although his or her feet were as clean
as the boards themselves. This piece of audacity was,
I suppose, to intimate, that she would not fit near
the place which was polluted by the feet of any other
person. This instance of the extravagance of human
vanity and absurdity may perhaps be disputed by many,
but it is as true as I now grasp this pen with which I
write. It were needless to recount all the imperti-
nences she daily teased me with. Suffice it to know,
that I laboured to please her, but found it impossible:
she was a pest to her own happiness, and envied that
any other mortal should share any peace. She was how-
ever taken off in a few hours illness, and left this world
in the greatest horror and despair.
My second mistress was one who was nearly as proud
as the former, but it consisted chiefly in a violent pas-
sion for dress and equipage. And in this particular
she was often mortified to such a degree as to overpower
her senses, and throw her into fits. An instance of
this I shall now relate. Being on a visit to a neigh-
bouring 


335 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
bouring lady (with whom my mistress was ever vying
for splendour) the afternoon was spent with the usual
gaiety, when, on leaving the drawing room, my mistress
happened to brush against the head cook-maid, who
appeared remarkably elegant, in a neat light-grounded
flowered chintz. My mistress was struck with her ap-
pearance, and eying her earnestly, “ Jenny,” she cried,
“ reach me the lavender!” and immediately fell down
into a swoon. After having recovered herself, she or-
dered her chair to be got ready with all imaginary
expedition. After we got home, she called me up to
her: “ Jenny,” she said, with a voice interrupted with
a tremulous accent, “ did you observe the creature's in-
solence? Unpin me!” “ La, Madam,” said I, “ what
is it offends your Ladyship?” “ Offends! Such inso-
lence is not to be borne! a chintz too! I shall die with
indignation.” “ Mrs. Susan's gown you mean, I sup-
pose, Madam,” said I.—“ Mrs. Susan! filthy trollop!
Mrs. Susan! ha! ha! ha!. Here take this (giving me
the gown); you will now be as fine as that minx. Well!
I never met with so audacious an affront before. Had
Lady G—t informed me she had thrown her gown
to that wretch, 'twould have been some satisfaction:
but to suffer the creature to wear it in my prefence,
before I had cast mine, 'twas intolerable.”— “ Marry,”
thought I, “ if you should receive such affronts every
day, provided they terminated thus in my favour, I
care not.”
This night was, however, an irksome one to me. It
was her custom to have me to comb her hair a full hour
every night before she went to sleep, or rather it was
my business to lull her to sleep with combing. Four-
teen different combs were each night successively ap-
plied to her hair with assiduous labour; but this night
was marked for my having to bestow five full hours in
the painful task. Often did I rest my wearied arms,
and as often did I renew the painful task. At last I
got 


336 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
got her to sleep, and lifting her into bed, found means
to creep to my own. Her anger too was most ungo-
vernable, and arose on the most trivial occasions, nay
sometimes from no occasion at all. One day (after
having laid the cloth for dinner) the bell rang with
more than ordinary quickness; I flew to my mistress,
who, as soon as I entered, darted her eyes (which
beamed with fire) full upon me, and, without speaking
one word, snatched one of the forks from the table,
which she threw with such violence, that, as I turned
to shun the blow, it struck me on the backside of my
head, and stuck there—I was in such terror that I ran
as far as the kitchen with the fork in my head, not
having presence of mind to draw it out again, which
was done by the butler, who swore I looked like Lady
Macbeth by the tragedy. I saw her no more that day,
but next morning I was recompensed with a brocade
silk gown, very little worse for the wear; I was, how-
ever, for some days exceedingly sore. Her temper,
notwithstanding this, broke out as violent as ever, not
many days after, on a very trivial occasion. It were
endless to recount the many bruises and strokes I re-
ceived in her service. Suffice it to know, that in a few
years after this javelin affair, she died of a surfeit of
lampreys.
I shall now close this narrative (which I could
lengthen out much farther) with observing, that, from
the sketches already drawn, you may be enabled to
judge what satisfaction those minds enjoy, who are too
proud, or rather too filly, to make use of the means
that would make them beloved by their servants, and
enjoy in themselves the tranquillity that is inseparable
from humility and virtue.
CHAP. 
 

337 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
CHAP. LXIX.
DR. SCHOMBERG'S METHOD OF READING FOR FE-
MALE IMPROVEMENT.
IN A LETTER TO A LADY.
MADAM,
CONFORMABLE to your desire, and my pro-
mise, I present you with a few thoughts on the
method of reading; which you would have had sooner,
only that you gave me leave to set them down at my
leisure-hours. I have complied with your request in
both these particulars; so that you see, Madam, how
absolute your commands are over me. If my remarks
should answer your expectations, and the purpose for
which they were intended; if they should in the least
conduce to the spending your time in a more profitable
and agreeable manner than most of your sex generally
do, it will give me a pleasure equal at least to that you
will receive.
It were to be wished that the female part of the hu-
man creation, on whom Nature has poured out so many
charms with so lavish a hand, would pay some regard
to the cultivating their minds and improving their un-
derstanding. It is easily accomplished. Would they
bestow a fourth part of the time they throw away on
the trifles and gewgaws of dress, in reading proper
books, it would perfectly answer their purpose. Not
that I am against the ladies adorning their persons; let
them be set off with all the ornaments that art and na-
ture can conspire to produce for their embellishment,
but let it be with reason and good sense, not caprice
and humour; for there is good sense in dress, as in 
all

338 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
all things else. Strange doctrine to some! But I am
sure, Madam, you know there is—You practise it.
The first rule to be laid down to any one who reads
to improve, is never to read but with attention. As
the abstruse parts of learning are not necessary to the
accomplishment of one of your sex, a small degree of it
will suffice. I would throw the subjects of which the
ladies ought not to be wholly ignorant under the fol-
lowing heads:
HISTORY—MORALITY—POETRY.
The first employs the memory; the second, the judg-
ment; and the third, the imagination,
Whenever you undertake to read History, make a
small abstract of the memorable events; and set down
in what year they happened. If you entertain your-
self with the life of a famous person, do the same by
his most remarkable actions, with the addition of the
year and the place he was born at and died. You will
find these great helps to your memory, as they will lead
you to remember what you do not write down, by a
sort of chain that links the whole history together.
Books on Morality deserve an exact reading. There
are none in our language more useful and entertaining
than the Spectators, Tatlers, and Guardians. They
are the standards of the English tongue, and as such
should be read over and over again; for as we imper-
ceptibly slide into the manners and habits of those per-
sons with whom we most frequently converse, so read-
ing being, as it were, a silent conversation, we insensi-
bly write and talk in the style of the authors we have
the most often read, and who have left the deepest im-
pressions on our mind. Now, in order to retain what
you read on the various subjects that fall under the head
of morality, I would advise you to mark with a pen-
cil 


339 OF THE FAIR SEX.
cil whatever you find worth remembering. If a pas-
sage strike you, mark it down in the margin; if an
expression, draw a line under it; if a whole paper in
the fore-mentioned books, or any others which are
written in the same loose and unconnected manner,
make an asterisk over the first line. By these means
you will select the most valuable, and they will sink
deeper in your memory than the rest, on repeated read-
ing, by being distinguished from them.
The last article is poetry. The way of distinguish-
ing good poetry from bad, is to turn it out of verse
into prose, and see whether the thought is natural, and
the words adapted to it; or whether they are not too
big and founding, or too low and mean for the sense
they would convey. This rule will prevent you from
being imposed on by bombast and sustian, which with
many passes for sublime; for smooth verses which run
off the ear with an easy cadence, and harmonious turn,
very often impose nonsense on the world, and are like
your fine dressed beaux, who pass for fine gentlemen.
Divert both from their outward ornaments, and people
are surprised they could have been so easily deluded.
I have now, Madam, given a few rules, and those
such only as are really necessary. I could have added
more; but these will be sufficient to enable you to read
without burdening your memory, and yet with another
view besides that of barely killing time, as too many
are accustomed to do.
The task you have imposed on me, is a strong proof
of your knowing the true value of time, and always
having improved it to the best advantage, were there
no other; and that there are other proofs, those who
have the pleasure of being acquainted with you can tell.
As for my part, Madam, you have done me too
much honour, by singling me out from all your ac-
quaintance on this occasion, to say any thing that
would not look like flattery; you yourself would think
it


340 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
it so, were I to do you the common justice all your
friends allow you: I must therefore be silent on this
head, and only say, that I shall think myself well re-
warded in return, if you will believe me to be, with the
utmost sincerity, as I really am,
MADAM,
Your faithful
humble servant,
I. SCHOMBERG.
CHAP. LXX.
THE SEQUESTERED LOVER.
YE wild waving woods, that now closing your shade,
Now wantonly parting, disport with the beam;
Thou river, whose current refreshes the mead;
And you, ye rude ruins that shadow his stream:
Ye stocks that hang white on the side of yon hill;
Ye herds who beneath crop the grass of the vale;
Ye that chirp in the hedge, or skim light on the rill,
Or fluttering, give your gay wing to the gale:
Sweet inspirers of thought! and thou sweetest, thou Dove,
Whose silver plumes shine thro' the boughs of the tree,
Escap'd from the cage, and away from the love,
All silent and sad, a companion to me!
Ah! 

265 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
Ah! why, as I gaze on the landscape around,
Why suddenly starts the fond tear to my eye?
Tho' smiling each object, and cheerful each found,
Why steals from my bosom the sorrowing sigh?
Enchant the fair scenes, till enraptur'd I find
That sweetest oblivion the Muses bestow,
Till the sunshine that gilds you shall heighten my mind,
And my fancy forgets that my heart has a woe!
So free may ye flourish, fair scenes as ye rise,
So still be your charms by simplicity grac'd,
In native luxuriance still please and surprise,
Nor by folly be fashion'd, nor tortur'd by taste.
So when the glad seasons their blessings shall yield,
And Ceres enrich you, and Flora adorn,
May the labourer's laugh echo loud in the field,
And the breeze whisper soft thro' the mellowing corn:
And so when the evening's mild glories decline,
And fade from the sky the last blushes of light,
Unsullied and cloudless may CYNTHIA shine
Ere yet you are hid by the envious night.
And whist her fair form glitters bright in the stood,
And sheds on its bosom a tremulous ray,
Tips the top of the hill, gilds the gloom f the wood,
And softens each beauty that glar'd in the day;
“ In such a night,” following Philomel's voice,
As the sings her sweet song to the listening air,
Sequester'd from crowds, or by chance or by choice,
To this bower should some gentle spirit repair:
Aa Whilst

266 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
Whilst tenderness breathes in the nightingale's strain,
To tenderness tun'd as delighted they stray,
This verse may they see, if this verse should remain,
Nor heedlessly turn from a wanderer's lay.
Perhaps they will deem him neglected, forlorn,
As they mark how his numbers all flow;
Of Fortune the sport, or Beauty the scorn,
Conjecture his sorrow, and pity his woe.
CHAP. LXXI.
THE HISTORY OF PHILOCLES AND PANTHEA.
THE celebrated duke de la Rochefoucault has dis-
covered, in his Moral Reflections, a profound
knowledge of the human heart; but none of his max-
ims appear to me to be more just than the following:
“ Absence may extinguish weak passions; but it
adds new force to the strong; just as the wind which
puts out a little fire, makes a great one burn with
double fury.”
The justness of this observation will appear evidently
from the following story, the truth of which I can
vouch for, and the probability of which nobody will
call in question.
Philocles, a young gentleman of a considerable for-
tune, and remarkable for his personal beauty, was dis-
tinguished from the most of his age and condition by a
singular turn of character. He looked upon love as a
passion so dangerous, that he formed a resolution to
shun every woman that had inspired him with a grow-
ing passion. It was customary with him to argue in
this manner: Pleasure resembles fire; at a certain dis-
tance 


267 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
tance it warms us; but we cannot make a near approach
without being burned.
Philocles, having made his determination, behaved
in such a manner to the ladies, that he soon acquired
the reputation of a Daffodil as he did not appear to
give any preference to one above a another. However,
as his indifference was owing to principle. and not
constitution, it did not long continue. It soon gave
way to the prevailing charms of Florinda; and Philo-
cles, unknown to himself, behaved to her often in such
a particular manner, as drew upon her the envy of most
of her female acquaintance, and was to her a matter of
the highest triumph. Her joy, however, was soon
turned into sorrow, when she was informed that Philo-
cles was gone to France, thinking the air of Paris might
have efficacy enough to cure him of his love; an opi-
nion in which he was not deceived.
Philocles after a few months residence in that gay
place, which seems to be consecrated to pleasure, and
several intrigues with ladies of fashion, whose sentiments
agreed exactly with his, and who considered love as a
transient amusement, which should never be carried to
a serious attachment, returned to England, and heard,
with the utmost indifference, that Florinda had in his
absence been married to a peer. This intelligence did
not displease him, as he was now secure from her re-
proaches.
Philocles, with a heart entirely disengaged, resumed
his former course of life, and gave himself up entirely
to pleasure and dissipation. But soon a first-rate beauty
effected what one of an inferior order could not do.
Panthea, the lustre of whose eyes could be equalled by
nothing but the gracefulness and majesty of her person,
soon excited emotions in the breast of Philocles, which
though much stronger than those which he had felt
before, so far bore a resemblance to them, that he
could 


268 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
could easily perceive the traces of his former passion,
and therefore resolved to be upon his guard.
He, however, could not immediately resolve to de-
prive himself of the pleasure of seeing and conversing
with Panthea, and every new interview contributed to
add new fewel to the flame of love, with which his heart
now glowed, which throbbed in all his veins. Each
time he saw Panthea appeared to him the first; and it
is highly probable he would have entirely forgot his
resolution, had it not been for a weakness which no
man is entirely free from. He could not stand the
ridicule of his circle of acquaintance, before whom he
had often declared his intentions, and boasted of his
resolution to act in consequence. False shame had as
much influence over Philocles as over most men. He
immediately resolved to absent himself, and accordingly
went to Venice. But the image of his dear Panthea
could not so easily be effaced from his mind. Her
idea haunted him both day and night; and this, with
the sense of his own weakness, in sacrificing real hap-
piness to the opinion of men unworthy of his esteem,
had such an effect on him, that he was seized with a
violent fever. His life was almost despaired of; and
it is probable he would not have recovered, had not a
resolution which he instantly formed to return to Eng-
land, and the hope offering his beloved Panthea again,
contributed more to restore his health than all the asis-
tance of his physicians.
Upon his return to England, Panthea, who had
taken offence at his inconsistancy, for some time declined
seeing him; but being soon after informed that he was
fallen dangerously ill, her passion took the ascendant,
and she went to see him. Philocles was in a short time
restored to health, and owed his recovery entirely to
Panthea's visits, which were very frequent.
Panthea, having thus discovered her heart, made no
longer any difficulty to admit the addresses of Phi-
locles 


269 OF THE FAIR SEX.
cles and in a few months afterward they were mar-
ried. Philocles is now become an example of constancy
and his attachment to Panthea is equal to the ardour
of her affection for him.
CHAP. LXXII.
THE DEATHS OF LUCRETIA AND VIRGINIA.
THE force of prejudice appears in nothing more
strongly than in the encomiums which have been
lavished upon Lucretia, for laying violent hands upon
herself, and Virginius, for killing his own daughter.
These actions seem to derive all their glory from the
revolutions to winch they gave rise, as the former oc-
cationed the abolition of monarchy amongst the Ro-
mans, and the latter put an end to the arbitrary power
of the decemviri. But if we lay aside our prepossessions
for antiquity, and examine these actions without pre-
judice, we cannot but acknowledge, that they are ra-
ther the effects of human weakness and obstinacy than
of resolution and magnanimity. Lucretia, for fear of
worldly censure, chose rather to submit to the lewd
desires of Tarquin, than have it thought that the had
been stabbed in the embraces of a slave; which suffi-
ciently proves, that all her boasted virtue was founded
upon vanity, and too high a value for the opinion of
mankind. The younger Pliny, with great reason, pre-
fers to this famed action that of a woman of low birth,
whose husband being seized with an incurable disorder,
chose rather to perish with him the survive him. The
action of Arria is likewise much more noble, whose
husband, Pætus, being condemned to death, plunged a
dagger in her breast, and told him, with a dying voice,
Aa2 “ Pætus

270 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
“ Pætus, it is not painful.” But the death of Lucre-
tia gave rise to a revolution, and is therefore become
illustrious; though, as St. Augustine justly observes, it
is only an instance of the weakness of a woman, too
solicitous about the opinion of the world.
Virginius, in killing his daughter, to preserve her
from falling a victim to the lust of the decemvir Clau-
dius, was guilty of the highest rashness; since he might
certainly have gained the people, already irritated
against the tyrant, without embruing his hands in his
own blood. This action may indeed be extenuated, as
Virginius flew his daughter from a false principle of
honour, and did it to preserve her from what both he
and she thought work than death; namely, to preserve
her from violation: but though it may in some mea-
sure be excused, it should not certainly be praised or
admired
CHAP. LXXIII.
THE SIBYL.
AN ORIENTAL STORY.
IN early times, before the Christian sacrafice had
taken from evil spirits their power to hurt mankind,
a matron of the East, followed by two fair daughters,
went to the shore of the tempestuous sea, to supplicate
the fabled Neptune. “ Thou, powerful God, who
swallowedst up the father, spare the son! Lo! I sub-
mit. The widow stands resigned; but hear the mo-
ther.” Her bare knees pressed the rock, she bowed
before the wave that roared against it; and as she prayed,
she paid the angry deity the tribute of her tears. The 
sea

271 OF THE FAIR SEX.
sea had robbed her of her lord; but piety had taught
her resignation. She kissed the beach again, and was
departing; when there appeared upon the rising wave,
erect and unconcerned, a human figure; the habit spoke
her female: age fat upon her brow, but free from all
infirmities, commanded only reverence; her dry feet
floated on the water's surface; her silver hair played
negligently in the storm; her hand was on her heart,
her eves on heaven. The daughter shrieked; the pa-
rent knew the form as it approached, and bending to
the earth, hailed the Erythrean Sibyl.
She waved her hand; and the sea ceased its tumult:
“ Amia,” said she, “ thy virtue has reached heaven.—
Danger is near? Children remember!—The virtue of a
daughter is obedience: the brightest jewel in a virgin's
crown, is modesty!” She vanished. The sea resumed
its roaring, and the broad sun was now half sunk be-
neath the billows.
No moon could light them homeward: the sea-storm
brought its thunder to the land; and as they stood
behind a ruined tower for shelter from its fury, they
heard the muttered sounds of midnight rites, and horrid
incantations—a gleam of lightning shewed at once the
place. Within an ample circle, surrounded by dark
grass, the works of fancied faries, stood a decrepit
creature, busied in his infernal sacrafices; nine times
he walked about the fatal circle, and each blade black-
ened where his fell foot came: in the midst he raised a
pile of mouldering coffins, and of broken gibbits; and
covered it with the heart of an old oak, just rent by
thunder. Upon the heap he laid a human body, warm
from its sepulchre; and, with a blue flame which his
breath raised from the ground, he lighted the strange
heap.
Till then the ceremonies were but seen imperfectly,
as the interrupted flashings from the clouds gave op-
portunity; now all was evident; the infernal ceremony
shone 

272 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
shone with its own light; and as the flame advanced,
the hagged wizard walked his round, repeating secret
prayers.
The flames distinctly shewed the body they were to
consume; a youth of perfect beauty, who seemed only
to sleep amidst the fire; at length it reached him, and
they saw him burn, by slow degrees, to ashes; then,
with a dreadful shriek, the sorcerer leaped into the
fire; a thick smoke rose, darker than night, and spread
itself abroad till it filled all the circle. After a while
it cleared, and from the glowing embers of the fire
there rose again the youth who had been burnt. Deep
music issued from the circle's verge, and to its solemn
notes the figure slow assended. The unwrinkled fore-
head and the rosy cheeks, the lips of coral and the
golden hair, rose from the shapeless ashes in full beauty.
They turned: for modesty refused their seeing more;
but in a little time the music ceased, and the new-born
youth came up, and flood before them, with an easy
grace, clothed in an azure robe, studded with silver stars.
The mother trembled; for the Sibyl's warning yet
rung in her affrighted ears. The daughters young and
unexperienced, stood charmed with the youth's beauty.
He told them he was Jove; he wooed them to his arms;
and added, they should walk the Empyrean heaven.
The mother, bold in the Sibyl's sacred lesson, charged
him with imposture; but the girls were still in raptures.
A cloudy chariot raised them from the earth, and as
they rode along the air, they thought they had reached
the very height the flatterer promised. They listened
to his soothing words. The pensive mother frowned.
She told them poets feigned; for gods were holy. The
favour of the Sibyl gave her courage, and her maternal
love inspired a sacred eloquence. They doubted as she
spoke. At length the elder was convinced. She join-
ed her parent in her arguments; but inconsiderate youth
betrayed the other. This told them “ Power was
power 

273 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
power, and splendour splendour: that he who could
thus wast them through the air, had all the might of
Jove; and there could be no heaven if it were not
there present residence.”
She gave her lily hand trembling, yet resolute, to
her new lover. The mother shrieked, and sunk upon
her knee, in vain. Aerial ministers served in a gay
repast. The lover and the loved sat down together.
The mother and her other child refused. Ambrosia
was the food on plates of emeralds, and nectar sparkled
in the adamantine bowls. But nature pleaded; and
the favoured mistress would not be blessed except her
mother shared. Anguish tore the parent's heart. She
would not fit; she begged her not to taste; and when
the fond girl doubted, charged her on her obedience.
But she was no more heard. The lover once again
invited both; and when refused, he frowned, and bade
them thirst, and pine for ever, in unpitied wretched-
ness, and unregarded envy.
A dungeon now rose in an obscure corner of the
place. The mother and the daughter were thrust into
it by friends. Heat burnt them up, and they were pe-
rishing with thirst, while the abandoned sister, as she
drank her full bowl, called to them: “ Now who is in
the right? Now tell me, is obedience to her or him
the better:” The sister blushed. The mother only
answered, “ See to morrow.”
Full revelry and joy prevailed at the detested board:
the sister still invited, still despised it. The mother
gazed on them with silent sorrow. At length, a crim-
son canopy stretched its wide curtains, and disclosed
the bridal bed. The pair advanced towards it; and
new despair gave once more the afflicted parent words.
She prayed, and she commanded; both in vain. The
infatuated girl approached the bed, and the lover fol-
lowed. The spirits disappeared, the velvet bed shrunk
to a corner of a withered hedge. The splendour and
the 

274 HISTORICAL SKETCHES. 
the power at once were over. The youthful Jove now
stood in his own form, a withered sorcerer; and at the
instant appeared the Sibyl, leading in her hand the
sovereign of the country. She told the story. She
took for ever from the wizard his former power of
magic; and gave the virtuous daughter to the king.
The mother saw her empress of the East, while the
deluded disobedient remained, what she had made her-
self, the bride of beggary and miserable age.
The lesson reaches all. The world allures; and
youth is unexperienced. Obedience to a parent is the
path to happiness. Blessings attend on this; and mi-
sery never fails to accompany the other.
CHAP. LXXIV.
THOUGHTS ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN:
BY AN ANONYMOUS AUTHOR
THE education of men, and that of women, ought
to be conducted on the same principles, so far as
it relates to the vanity of both being directed to essen-
tial objects. In almost every other respect, however,
there should be a difference. One thing in particular
is to be cautiously avoided in the latter, that is, raising
the imagination, or suffering them to do any thing
from passion.
Born for a life of uniformity and dependence, what
they have occasion for is, reason, sweetness, and sensi-
bility, resources against idleness and languor, moderate
desires, and no passions.
Were it in your power to give them genius, it would
be almost always a useless, and very often a dangerous
present 

275 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
present. It would, in general, make them regret the
station which Providence has assigned them, or have
recourse to unjustifiable ways to get from it. The
best taste for science only contributes to make them
particular. It takes them away from the simplicity
of their domestic duties, and from general society, of
which they are the lovliest ornament.
Intended to be at the head of a house, to bring up
children, to depend on a master, who will occasionally
want their obedience and advice, their chief qualifica-
tions are to be the love of order, patience, prudence,
and right-mindedness.
The more agreeable talents they can connect with
these cardinal virtues;—the more parts of learning
they have tasted the elements of, so as not to be entirely
shut out of mixed conversation;—the more relish they
have for proper and well chosen books;—and the more
they are capable of reflecting, the better and happier
beings will they be.
Rousseau says, that the little cunning natural to
women ought not to be checked, because they will
want it to captivate the men, on whom they depend.
This is a detestable maxim. He might as well have
recommended dissimulation, and even open falsehood;
for, detestable as they are, they may likewise, at times,
serve a turn. But for one case, in which vice may be
used, there are a thousand in which it does harm. Nor
is there any thing that will weather every storm, save
the habitual exercise of virtue. Besides, if there were
any vices, which it became a philosopher to recommend,
surely they should not be the lowest of all;—those
which indicate the last degree of corruption, both in
body and mind; those of which immediate self-inter-
est is the object.
After all, an artful woman may govern a weak and
narrow-minded man; but she will never gain the esteem
and attachment of a man of sense.
CHAP. 

276 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
CHAP. LXXV.
WEDDED LOVE IS INFINITELY PREFERABLE TO
VARIETY.
HAIL, wedded Love, mysterious law, true source
Of human offspring, sole propriety,
In Paradise of all things common else!
By thee adult'rous lust was driven from men,
Among the bestial herds to range; by thee,
Founded in reason, loyal, just, end pure,
Relations dear, and all the charities
Of father, son, and brother, first were known.
Thou art the fountain of domestic sweets,
Whose bed is undefil'd and chaste pronounc'd.
Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings,
Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile
Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd,
Casual fruition; nor in court-amours,
Mix'd dance, or wanton most, or midnight ball,
Or serenade, which the starved lover sings 
To his proud fair, best quilted with disdain.
CHAP. 

277 OF THE FAIR SEX.
CHAP. LXVI.
THE  MERCINARY LOVER.
A MORAL TALE.
WHEN a woman of fortune happens to look
with very favourable eyes (no uncommon case)
upon a man much inferior to her, though a gentleman,
in his circumstances, she naturally wishes to see an
equal degree of inclination in him to be united to her
for life; to see her passion for him sincerely returned.—
Such a woman, however, is often afraid to give the
man to whom her heart is partial encouragement,
from an apprehension that he may be ready to avail
himself of her prepossessions in his behalf, merely to
improve his affair, without feeling the slightest per-
sonal regard for her. These wishes and these appre-
hensions are natural; and if the latter are predominant,
the removal of them cannot but be desirable for the
accomplishment of the former. The woman in the 
above supposed situation certainly acts with prudence,
by putting the affection of her lover to the test before
she consents to be bound to him with the cords of
matrimony. If ever dissimulation is pardonable, it is
upon such an occasion; and she who has recourse to it
will rather deserve pity than censure, should her test be
attended with disappointment.
Raised to a sphere of life which she never expect-
ed to shine, from the humility of her birth, and the
straitness of her father's finances, Emilia Linton en-
joyed her large fortune like a woman of spirit, and did
not, in the enjoyment of it, lose sight of discretion.
Having no relations, no persons of either sex nearly
enough related to her to controul her actions, to talk to
her in a didactic style, to direct her conduct, the discre-
Bb tion 

278 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
tion which she discovered was the more remarkable, and
the more to be commended, when she came into the
possession of it. The propriety of her behaviour, in
every shape, was observed with pleasure by all who had
a real esteem for her: by those among her female friends
who longed to make the same figure in the world, and
who remembered her inferior to themselves, with pain.
May not envy be called pain? Doubtless: and they
who are disturbed with this meanest of the human pas-
sions, may feelingly exclaim with the jealous Moor,
“ Farewell, the tranquil mind! farewell, content!”
Without beauty, without bright parts, without any
dazzling accomplishments, without any airs to set her-
self off to advantage, Emilia pleased. Though not
handsome, she was far from being ugly; and though
she, had not an acute, she had a solid understanding.
Smart expressions never dropped from her lips; but for
sensible ones she yielded not to the most sensible of her
sex. Her manners were winning, her observations were
judicious, and her conduct was exemplary.
Emilia was not, it maybe imagined, from this sketch
of her character, without followers. She had even ad-
mirers too. The majority of those, indeed, who paid
their addresses to her, were attracted by her fortune:
there were, however, whom she could not rank, as
they were in superior circumstances, among the for-
tune-hunting train. She received all the attentions of
those who crowded about her at every public place
with the greatest politeness, but that politeness was
general: she gave not one of them reason to imagine,
by any particular distinctions, that he had made the
smallest impression upon her heart. Her heart, indeed,
was not affected by any of the speeches which were
addressed to her ears. Thoroughly acquainted, from 
the extensiveness of her observation, with the precise
value of the compliments lavished upon her, she consi-
dered

279 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
dered them as counters on a card-table, serviceable to
those who had tricks, but of no intrinsic worth.
In the suit of Emilia's admirers one man at length
appeared, who seemed to be more studious than his com-
petitors to be noticed by her. Of this man she, at first,
saw the assiduities with no particular emotions; but
she felt herself in a little while so much flattered by
them, that she could hardly help shewing in her face
what passed in her bosom concerning him. In pro-
portion to the increase of his attention to her, was the
increase of her partiality for him; and she began, in a
short time, to wish that he would make his addresses to
her in form: fearful of betraying her feelings by her
looks, and of being considered by her lover as a woman
ready to fall into his arms, without giving him the trou-
ble of putting the previous question to her, she could
not bear the idea of having her features translated in
that manner, and therefore did all in her power to
suppress sensations which might, she imagined, occasion
constructions not much to the credit of her understand-
ing, though in no way injurious to her honour.
The man in whose favour Emilia felt her heart not
a little agitated, was a gentleman by birth, and had
been genteelly educated; but his fortune not being an-
swerable to his desires, he had been for some time
looking out for a woman in a situation to improve it.
However, though a lucrative marriage was the chief
object of his attention, he was not quite of so merce-
nary a disposition as to wish to enrich himself with a
woman whom he abhorred, with whom he could have
no prospect of being tolerably happy in the domestic
state. To engage Miss Linton's affections he was the
more solicitous, as he really believed, from the apparent
sweetness of her temper, and the goodness of her heart,
that he should, by marrying her, with the enlargement
of his fortune, gain a considerable addition to his hap-
piness. Animated by all those motives, he redoubled
his 

280 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
his assiduities, and, having drawn very favourable con-
clusions, one day, from a conversation with Emilia,
gave pretty strong hints that it was in her power to
make him the happiest of men.
This hint was not thrown away upon Emilia, but
she behaved on that occasion with the propriety
which she had discovered upon every other, and with-
out departing in the least from her character as a wo-
man of fortune, a woman of sense, and a woman of
virtue. Fully satisfied—more than satisfied—charmed
with her behaviour, he took his leave, and left her not
less pleased with the deportment of her lover.
When she came to reflect, however, upon the en-
couragement which she had given to Boothby, she be-
gan to think that she had been too hasty, and, in con-
sequence of a retrospect of her behaviour, determined
to make use of a stratagem, in order to find out if
her lover had a sincere personal regard for her, inde-
pendent of her fortune; or if he only counterfeited a
passion which he did not feel, with a view to increase
his income.
While Emilia was considering in what manner she
should conduct her new scheme, Boothby was enjoy-
ing, by anticipation, the splendid style of life in which
he was resolved to appear, as soon as he became master
of the wealth which hung temptingly in his sight, and
just within his grasp.
Flushed with the success he had met with, upon
the disclosure of his passion for a woman to whom
many of his rivals, with better incomes than he had,
looked up with a kind of reverential awe (either de-
terred by diffidence, occasioned by the disproportion
in their circumstances, or a pride which would not let
them risk the disgrace) he triumphed over those rivals,
but not with all the decency of a politic conqueror: he
exhibited too many marks of exultation, and pushed
his raillery so far one day, against the least formidable 
of

281 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
of them, who had been on the point of breaking
through his natural modesty (having no pride to re-
strain him) that he provoked him to return an answer
not easily to be digested.
“ What do you mean by that, Sir? ” said Boothby.
“ What do I mean by that, Sir? ” replied his adver-
sary in a taunting tone.
These interrogations would have, perhaps, produced
a duel, had not their swords been kept peaceably in
their scabbards by the interposition of their surround-
ing friends: they even shook hands, and declared them-
selves perfectly reconciled; but Boothby was not recon-
ciled to his antagonist in his heart; his impertinent doubts
with regard to his marriage were painfully remembered.
When Boothby went to his Emilia to put the last
hand to the preparations for their union, he found her
weeping over a letter. Struck at the fight of her in so
unexpected a situation, he flew to her with all the ea-
gerness of a sympathizing lover, and begged to know
what had happened to throw her into such a distressful
condition.
Instead of returning a verbal answer, she gave him
the letter.
The perusal of it shocked him extremely, by inform-
ing him that his mistress had, by a capital bankruptcy,
lost the greatest part of her fortune.
After a long pause (during which Emilia contrived
to watch every turn of his countenance without bring
perceived) he told her plainly, that he could not af-
ford to marry a woman without money, and that he
should only injure her as well as himself, by making her
his wife.
“ Mighty well, Sir? ” replied she, bursting into a
laugh, “ you shall never be injured by me.”
By this sudden change in Emilia, Boothby was ex-
tremely disconcerted; but when be found that the let-
ter was forged one, merely to try the sincerity of his
Bb2 passion, 

282 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
passion, he was almost ready to hang himself. Never
was there a mercenary lover more completely mortified.
CHAP. LXXVII.
ON THE REVOLUTIONS OF THE FRENCH FASHI-
ONS, WITH SOME ADVICE TO THE LADIES
RESPECTING CERTAIN PARTS OF DRESS.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.
FASHION is to custom what prejudices are to
the moral virtues. It imperiously dictates laws
to those who live under its empire, and its decrees are
irrevocable. Women, that bewitching part of the
creation, born for the happiness of one half of our sex,
and for the torment of the other, discontented with the
little that the laws have done for them in the distribu-
tion of direct power, have at all times sought to acquire
by address, what they could not reasonably hope to
obtain by open force. The auxiliary means which
they have always employed to accomplish their ends
are those of the toilet; but in blindly suffering them-
selves to be guided by custom, and adopting new
modes, without choke and without reflection, the fair
sex do not derive from those trifles, to which they annex
so much value, all the advantage they expect. Those
whom their rank or chance has placed in a conspi-
cuous station, generally give an example to others.
They are the first to adopt fashion, and often take
them from some remote source, to which people of or-
dinary rank never would have gone to look for them.
The 


283 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
The grand fault in what concerns the toilet, and that
against which they ought to be greatly on their guard,
is not to give too much into general fashion, and not
to believe that because a particular dress becomes one
woman, it will become all in the like manner. To de-
stroy this prejudice, it will be sufficient to observe, that
ornaments employed in dress, ought to be varied in
their composition, and to be suited to the shape and
figure of those who adopt them. Though one cannot
form general principles upon this subject, yet after
having taken a view of the modes of preceding ages, I
shall venture to make a few cursory observations upon
the fashions which prevail at present.
It is with disgust that the imagination returns to
those remote ages, when Nature, insulted in every re-
spect, and disfigured by the most whimsical dresses, pre-
sented to the sight only hideous figures. In the first
ages of the French monarchy, the dress of the men
varied more than that of the women. Their clothes
were alternately either too long, or too short. In ge-
neral, long vestments are more becoming and more noble
than those that are short. It is a great pity that this
custom should be at attended with so many inconveni-
ences, and that it should absolutely impede the exer-
cise of the body, and those labours which our wants re-
quire, and which luxury commands.
Under Philip the Fair, an epocha when dress began
to emerge from barbarity, long coats only were worn
by men of any consideration. In the army, however,
as well as in the country, short coats were always re-
tained. In the fourteenth century, the same dress
was worn by men and women. Under the reigns of
Charles V. and Charles VI. long coats only were in
fashion; bit Charles VII. who had ill made legs, again
introduced long coats *.
* May not this circumstance, as well as many others that
might be mentioned, serve to prove the justness of the proverb,
which says, that wise people invent fashions, and fools follow them? 

284 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
Nothing is more curious, and at the same time ridi-
culous, than the dress of people of fashion during the
first years af the reign of Louis XI. Figure to your-
self a petit-maitre, with his hair flat and bushy, dressed
in a doublet shaped like an under waistcoat, which
scarcely covered his reins; his breeches exceedingly
close, rising very high, and his middle bound round
with ribands, in a most whimsical manner, as may be
still seen in some ancient paintings; add to all this,
artificial shoulders, in form of a cushion, which were
placed upon each shoulder-blade, to make him appear
to have a large chest, and to give him a robust and vi-
gorous appearance. This strange caricatura was ter-
minated by shoes, the points of which, for people of
the first quality, were full two feet in length. The
populace had them only of six inches: those were
what they called shoes à la poulaine. They were in-
vented by Henry Plantagenet, duke of Anjou, to con-
ceal a very large excrescence which be had upon one
of his feet. As this prince, the most gallant and beau-
tiful man of his age, gave the lead to the court, every
one was desirous of having shoes like his. Hence
comes the origin of the French proverb étre sur un
grand pied. Under Francis I. and his successors, the
form of the men's dress began to approach perfection;
but under the good Henry IV. it became preferable to
that which we have since adopted, and which still sub-
sists. The most useful of all modes, and that which
will survive all others, though it has found many ene-
mies in France, is the peruke.—Ecclesiastics were long
forbidden to wear one in church. In 1685, a cannon
of the cathedral of Beauveais was prevented from cele-
brating mass, because he wore a peruke. He, how-
ever, deposited it in the hands of two notaries, at the
entrance into the choir, and protested against the vio-
lence 

285 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
lence offered him. In 1689, several oratorians* were
dismissed from their order, because they had put on
perukes. At that time they were very large, but at
present every thing is so much changed, that even
physicians, who formerly considered an enormous pe-
ruke as the basis of their reputation, seem to disdain
that ornament. Several have adopted the bag, and
perhaps we shall soon see them preforming their morn-
ing visits with a long queue.
When bags began first to be in fashion, people never
wore them except when in dishabille; in visits of cere-
mony one could not appear but with the hair tied in a
riband, and floating over the shoulders. This is abso-
lutely contrary to our present fashion.
In the early periods of the monarchy, the ladies
scarcely paid any attention to dress. It would appear
that they thought of nothing else than pleasing their
husbands, and of giving a proper education to their
children, and that the rest of their time was employed
in family concerns, and rural economy. If their dress
was subject to little change in those primitive times, we
ought not to be astonished to see the fair sex indem-
nify themselves at present for their long inaction.
Their dress, however, has experienced the same revo-
lutions as that of the men. There was a time when
their robes rose so high, dirt they absolutely covered
the breast; but under Charles VI. Queen Isabella of
Bavaria, as remarkable for her gallantry as her beauty,
brought back the fashion of leaving the shoulders and
part of the neck uncovered.
Let u hear what Juvenal des Ursins says respecting
the manner in which the women dressed their heads.
“ Both married and unmarried ladies were very extra-
vagant it their dress and wore caps wonderfully high
and
* A congregation of priests instituted in France, by Cardinal
de Berulle, and approved by the Pope in 1613. 

286 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
and large, having two great ears at each side, which
were of such a magnitude, that when they wished to
enter a door, it was impossible for them.” About that
time, the famous Carmelite, Thomas Cénare, exercised
his oratorical talents against these caps. His efforts
were at first successful; but his triumph was of short
duration, and they again rose to a prodigious degree;
they however, at length, became entirely out of
fashion.
The reign of Charles VII. brought back the use of
ear-rings, bracelets, and collars. Some years before
the death of that prince, the dress of the ladies was
ridiculous in the highest degree. They wore robes so
exceedingly long, that several yards of the train dragged
behind; the sleeves were so wide, that they swept the
ground; and their heads were lost under immense
bonnets, which were three fourths of their breadth in
height. To this whimsical fashion another succeeded,
which was no less so. The ladies placed a kind of
cushion upon their heads, loaded with ornaments, which
displayed the worst taste imaginable. This head-dress
was so large, that it was two yards in breadth. At
that period it was absolutely necessary to enlarge the
doors of all the houses. From this extremity, the fair
sexpassed to another no less extravagant. They adopt-
ed the use of bonnets so exceedingly low, and they ar-
ranged the hair in so close a manner, that they appeared
as if their heads had been shaven. On the death of
Charles VIII. Anne of Bretagne, his queen, intro-
duced the use of the black veil, which she always wore.
The ladies of her court adopted it also, and ornamented
it with red and purple fringes; but the cits, improving
upon this mode, enriched it with pearls and clasps of
gold.
It was under the reign of Francis I. that the women
began to turn up their hair. Margaret, queen of Na-
varre, frizzed that on the temples, and turned back
that 

287 OF THE FAIR SEX.
that before. This princess occasionally added to this
head-dress a small bonnet of velvet or satin, ornament-
ed with pearls and jewels, and placed over it a small
tust of feathers. Such a fashion was very becoming,
and this perhaps is the first period when the ladies be-
gan to dress with any taste. A revolution was abso-
lutely requisite. The gallant and voluptuous reign of
Catherine de Medicis necessarily brought about a happy
change in the French fashions. It was about this time
that the chaperon or hood appeared. This mode con-
tinued a long time, because the sumptuary laws esta-
blished a distinction in the stuff which composed it.
The hoods of ladies of quality were of velvet, and those
of citizens of plain cloth. La Bourcier, midwife to
Mary of Medicis, obtained an express order from the
king to wear one of velvet. Of all the sumptuary
laws made at different periods, none had so sudden an
effect as the edict of Henry the Great in 1604. This
monarch, after having forbid his subjects to wear either
gold or silver upon their dresses, adds, “ except, how-
ever, ladies of pleasure and pick-pockets, for whom we
are not so far interested as to do them the honor of
attending to their conduct.” This ordinance was at-
tended with the proper effect, and neither ladies of
pleasure nor pick-pockets took any advantage of their
permission.
The French ladies in the present day have made such
a rapid progress in the art of setting off their charms,
that they are now followed by all the ladies in Europe.
We have seen modes of different kinds succeed one
another with inconceivable rapidity. Names of all
sorts have been exhausted. Four volumes would scarcely
contain the nomenclature of all the novelties which the
inventive genius of the ladies has devised in the last
ten years. But this is not all, the fair sex have so far
disfigured nature, that one must look at them very
closely not to be mistaken. Their cavalier gait, the
black 

288 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
black hat, the riding coat, and the cane which they
have adopted, have given them almost the appearance
of men. Such a dress does not at all become them,
and we cannot help saying, that it destroys all their
graces.
Let us now make a few observations on the advan-
tages and disadvantages of female dress; and let us
begin with the ornaments of the head, which may be
called the citadel of coquetry.
As, the head-dress should be considered only as an
accessary part, whenever its height exceeds the length
of the face, it produces a disagreeable effect; and this
effect will become more sensible in a woman whose phy-
siognomy is small, than in one who has Roman features.
The former can derive no advantage but from slight
ornaments which do not occupy much space; she-must
always avoid large figures and straight lines. A head-
dress which comes too far forward on the head of a
woman who has a small nose and a flat chin, will ren-
der these blemishes more sensible, whilst such a dress
will admirably become one who has a prominent chin
and a large nose.
Beautiful eyes lose great part of their splendour un-
der large hats worn as they are at present. This head-
dress ought to be the resource of those ladies who can
boast of nothing but a pretty mouth, and an agreeable
smile. The colours of gauze and ribands employed
to ornament the head, ought to be suited to that of
the hair and complexion. This care adds much to the
graces of nature. It must, however, be allowed, that
the ladies understand the harmony of colours much bet-
ter than the relation of forms.
The advantages of an elegant figure are often lost
by the ridiculous folly of wishing to appear very slen-
der.—One needs only study the shape of the supurb
antique statue of Venus, to be convinced that the
beauty of proportion is hurt as much by too slender
and

289 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
and uniform, as by too clumsy a waist. It must be
observed also, that too narrow boddice and stays abso-
lutely destroy gracefulness and ease. The motions be-
come stiff, and the attitudes confined; besides speaking
of the fatal accidents which may arise from this violence
offered to Nature.
Depravation of taste in regard to dress was some
years ago carried to a great length. Very corpulent
women wished to increase their size by cork rumps,
which women who were too slender, had ingeniously
invented to supply what Nature had refused them. We
have seen some of a very diminutive size, who by the
help of this ridiculous piece of furniture seemed to
have acquired as much dimensions in breadth as in 
height.
Those ornaments which are intended to adorn na-
ture ought to be simple and light. The Grecian la-
dies, who knew so well how to make the most of their
charms, took great care never to use veils but of the
most pliable stuffs. These veils yielded to their various
motions, and added to the natural gracefulness of their
persons. All the ancient statues, therefore, brought
us from that country, which gave birth to the arts, are
admired by artists and connoisseurs for a character of
lightness and ease which can never be surpassed.
It is wrong to believe, that cold climates should pre-
vent people from wearing thin dresses; by means of
furred cloaks, which may be used in the open air, one
may wear an under dress of the lighted stuff possible.
The manner in which the Russian ladies dress, may serve
as a proof of what we have here advanced; but a pro-
per medium ought to be observed between dresses
which are too clumsy, and those which, on account of
their thinness, might give offence to decency. A wo-
man who exposes herself to these inconveniences does
not understand her own interest
It was above all in the arrangement of the hair that
Cc the 

290 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
the Greek ladies excelled, especially with regard to
simplicity. We must allow, that the ladies dress bet-
ter at present than formerly: and that they are nearer
to perfection than they were some years ago. A slight
dawning begins already to appear in the manner in
which they dress there hair, and there is reason to hope
that they will make a very rapid progress in this part of
the business of the toilet, especially if they consult
nature and good artists.
Nothing is more agreeable and becoming than to
wear the hair floating over the shoulders. It is much
to be wished that the ladies would adhere to this cus-
tom. The curls which they have adopted before,
would become them much better, were they less regu-
lar, and disposed with more taste.
When by some lucky chance a woman has attained
almost to perfection in the art of dressing, that is to
say, in the art of knowing what best becomes her, she
ought to be very nice in her choice of new fashions. In
an age so frivolous as the present, the loss of a lover may
be the consequence of even such a trifling circumstance
as that of the hat being wrong placed, or turned too
much to the right or the left. When a passion is
founded only upon trifles, ought we to be surprised that
a trifle should destroy it?
Artists, who have spent their lives in studying the
beauties of nature, are the best judges in this respect.
They alone have the privilege of fixing the public opi-
nion such matters. This is really their province.
The time is perhaps not far distant, when the fair sex,
better acquainted with their dearest interests, will in-
vite them to their toilets, and consider them as the
arbiters of taste. Favoured then by the graces and by
beauty, and envied by all the other classes of men, they
will be indemnified with usury for that neglect with
which they have so long been treated. But a great
evolution must take place before that happy day ar-
rives. 

291 OF THE FAIR SEX. 
rives. At that epocha, every thing will return to its
primitive order, and, according to the French proverb,
every man will be in his own place, and every abbe in
his benefice.
CHAP. LXXVIII.
ON LOOKING AT THE PICTURE OF A BEAUTIFUL
FEMALE.
WHAT dazzling beauties strike my ravish'd eyes,
and fill my soul with pleasure and surprise!
What blooming sweetness smiles upon that face!
How mild, yet how majestic ev'ry grace!
In those bright eyes what more than mimic fire
Benignly shines, and kindles gay desire!
Yet chasten'd Modesty, fair white-rob'd dame,
Triumphant fits to check the rising flame.
Sure Nature made thee her peculiar care:
Was ever form so exquisitely fair?
Yes, once there was a form thus heav'nly bright,
But now 'tis veil'd in everlasting night;
Each glory which that lovely face could boast,
And ev'ry charm, in traceless dust is lost;
An unregarded heap of ruin lies 
That form which lately drew ten thousand eyes.
What once was courted, lov'd ador'd and prais'd,
Now mingles with the dust from whence't was rais'd.
Nor more soft dimpling smiles those cheeks adorn.
Whose rosy tincture sham'd the rising morn;
Nor more with sparkling radiance shine those eyes,
Nor over those the sable arches rise;
Nor from those ruby lips soft accents flow,
Nor lilies on the snowy forehead blow;
All,

292 HISTORICAL SKETCHES
All, all are cropp'd by death's impartial hand,
Charms could not bribe, nor beauty's pow'r withstand;
Not all that crowd of wondrous charms could save
The fair possessor from the dreary grave.
How frail is beauty, transient, false and vain!
It flies with morn, and ne'er returns again.
Death, cruel ravager, delights to prey
Upon the young, the lovely and the gay.
If death appear not, oft corroding pain,
With pining sickness in her languid train,
Blights youth's gay spring with some untimely blast,
And lays the blooming field of beauty waste:
But should these spare, still time creeps on apace,
And plucks with wither'd hand each winning grace;
The eyes, lips, cheeks, and bosom he disarms,
No art from him can shield exterior charms.
But would you, fair ones be esteem'd, approv'd,
And with an everlasting ardor lov'd;
Would you in wrinkled age admirers find,
In ev'ry female virtue dress the mind;
Adorn the heart, and teach the soul to charm,
And when the eyes no more the breast can warm,
These ever-blooming beauties shall inspire
Each gen'rous heart with friendship's sacred fire;
These charms shall neither wither, fade, nor fly;
Pain, sickness, time, and death, they dare defy-
When the pale tyrant's hand shall seal your doom,
And lock your ashes in the silent tomb,
These beauties shall in double lustre rise,
Shine round the soul, and wast it to the skies.
THE END.