SECTION II

      Dr. Fordyce's sermons have long made a part of a young woman's library; nay, girls at school are allowed to read them but I should instantly dismiss them from my pupil's if I wished to strengthen her understanding, by leading her to form sound principles on a broad basis; or, were I only anxious to cultivate her taste, though they must be allowed to contain many sensible observations.

      Dr. Fordyce may have had a very laudable end in view; but these discourses are written in such an affected style, that were it only on that account, and had I nothing to object against his mellifluous precepts, I should not allow girls to peruse them, unless I designed to hunt every spark of nature out of their composition, melting every human quality into female meekness and artificial grace. I say artificial, for true grace arises from some kind of independence of mind.

      Children, careless of pleasing, and only anxious to amuse themselves, are often very graceful; and the nobility who have mostly lived with inferiors, and always had the command of money, acquire a graceful ease of deportment, which should rather be termed habitual grace of body, than that superior gracefulness which is truly the expression of the mind.
      This mental grace, not noticed by vulgar eyes, often flashes across a rough countenance, and irradiating every feature, shows simplicity and independence of mind.
      It is then we read characters of immortality in the eye, and see the soul in every gesture, though when at rest, neither the face nor limbs may have much beauty to recommend them; or the behaviour, anything peculiar to attract universal attention.
      The mass of mankind, however, look for more tangible beauty; yet is simplicity, in general, admired, when people do not consider what they admire? and can there be simplicity without sincerity? But, to have done with remarks that are in some measure desultory, though naturally excited by the subject.

      In declamatory periods Dr. Fordyce spins out Rousseau's eloquence; and in most sentimental rant, details his opinions respecting the female character, and the behaviour which woman ought to assume to render her lovely.

      He shall speak for himself, for thus he makes Nature address man.

      "Behold these smiling innocents, whom I have graced with my fairest gifts, and committed to your protection; behold them with love and respect; treat them with tenderness and honour.
      "They are timid and want to be defended.
      "They are frail; oh do not take advantage of their weakness!
      "Let their fears and blushes endear them. Let their confidence in you never be abused.
      "But is it possible, that any of you can be such barbarians, so supremely wicked, as to abuse it? Can you find in your hearts [5] to despoil the gentle, trusting creatures of their treasure, or do anything to strip them of their native robe of virtue?
      "Curst be the impious hand that would dare to violate the unblemished form of chastity!
      "Thou wretch! thou ruffian! forbear; nor venture to provoke Heaven's fiercest vengeance."

      I know not any comment that can be made seriously on this curious passage, and I could produce many similar ones; and some, so very sentimental, that I have heard rational men use the word indecent, when they mentioned them with disgust.

      Throughout there is a display of cold artificial feelings, and that parade of sensibility which boys and girls should be taught to despise as the sure mark of a little vain mind. Florid appeals are made to Heaven, and to the beauteous innocents, the fairest images of Heaven here below, whilst sober sense is left far behind. This is not the language of the heart, nor will it ever reach it, though the ear may be tickled.

      I shall be told, perhaps, that the public have been pleased with these volumes. True - and Hervey's Meditations are read, though he equally sinned against sense and taste.

      I particularly object to the love-like phrases of pumped up passion, which are everywhere interspersed.
      If women be ever allowed to walk without leading-strings, why must they be cajoled into virtue by artful flattery and sexual compliments? Speak to them the language of truth and soberness, and away with the lullaby strains of condescending endearment! Let them be taught to respect themselves as rational creatures, and not led to have a passion for their own insipid persons.
      It moves my gall to hear a preacher descanting on dress and needlework; and still more, to hear him address the British fair, the fairest of the fair, as if they had only feelings.

      Even recommending piety he uses the following argument.

      "Never, perhaps, does a fine woman strike more deeply, than when, composed into pious recollection, and possessed with the noblest considerations, she assumes, without knowing it, superior dignity and new graces; so that the beauties of holiness seem to radiate about her, and the bystanders are almost reduced to fancy her already worshipping amongst her kindred angels!"

      Why are women to be thus bred up with a desire of conquest?
      The very word, used in this sense, gives me a sickly qualm!
      Do religion and virtue offer no stronger motives, no brighter reward?
      Must they always be debased by being made to consider the sex of their companions?
      Must they be taught always to be pleasing?
      And when levelling their small artillery at the heart of man, is it necessary to tell them that a little sense is sufficient to render their attention incredibly soothing?

      "As a small degree of knowledge entertains in a woman, so from a woman, though for a different reason, a small expression of kindness delights, particularly if she have beauty!"

      I should have supposed for the same reason.

      Why are girls to be told that they resemble angels; but to sink them below women? Or, that a gentle innocent female is an object that comes nearer to the idea which we have formed of angels than any other.
      Yet they are told, at the same time, that they are only like angels when they are young and beautiful; consequently, it is their persons, not their virtues, that procure them this homage.

      Idle empty words! What can such delusive flattery lead to, but vanity and folly?
      The lover, it is true, has a poetical licence to exalt his mistress; his reason is the bubble of his passion, and he does not utter a falsehood when he borrows the language of adoration. His imagination may raise the idol of his heart, unblamed, above humanity; and happy would it be for women, if they were only flattered by the men who loved them; I mean, who love the individual, not the sex; but should a grave preacher interlard his discourses with such fooleries?

      In sermons or novels, however, voluptuousness is always true to its text. Men are allowed by moralists to cultivate, as Nature directs, different qualities, and assume the different characters, that the same passions, modified almost to infinity, give to each individual. A virtuous man may have a choleric or a sanguine constitution, be gay or grave, unreproved; be firm till he is almost overbearing, or, weakly submissive, have no will or opinion of his own; but all women are to be levelled, by meekness and docility, into one character of yielding softness and gentle compliance.

      I will use the preacher's own words.

      "Let it be observed, that in your sex manly exercises are never graceful; that in them a tone and figure, as well as an air and deportment, of the masculine kind, are always forbidding; and that men of sensibility desire in every woman soft features, and a flowing voice, a form, not robust, and demeanour delicate and gentle."

      Is not the following portrait - the portrait of a house slave?

      "I am astonished at the folly of many women, who are still reproaching their husbands for leaving them alone, for preferring this or that company to theirs, for treating them with this and the other mark of disregard or indifference; when, to speak the truth, they have themselves in a great measure to blame.
      "Not that I would justify the men in anything wrong on their part.
      "But had you behaved to them with more respectful observance, and a more equal tenderness; studying their humours, overlooking their mistakes, submitting to their opinions in matters indifferent, passing by little instances of unevenness, caprice, or passion, giving soft answers to hasty words, complaining as seldom as possible, and making it your daily care to relieve their anxieties and prevent their wishes, to enliven the hour of dullness, and call up the ideas of felicity: had you pursued this conduct, I doubt not but you would have maintained and even increased their esteem, so far as to have secured every degree of influence that could conduce to their virtue, or your mutual satisfaction; and your house might at this day have been the abode of domestic bliss "

      Such a woman ought to be an angel - or she is an ass - for I discern not a trace of the human character, neither reason nor passion in this domestic drudge, whose being is absorbed in that of a tyrant's.

      Still Dr. Fordyce must have very little acquaintance with the human heart, if he really supposed that such conduct would bring back wandering love, instead of exciting contempt.
      No, beauty, gentleness, etc., etc., may gain a heart; but esteem, the only lasting affection, can alone be obtained by virtue supported by reason. It is respect for the understanding that keeps alive tenderness for the person.

      As these volumes are so frequently put into the hands of young people, I have taken more notice of them than, strictly speaking, they deserve; but as they have contributed to vitiate the taste, and enervate the understanding of many of my fellow-creatures, I could not pass them silently over.

SECTION III

      Such paternal solicitude pervades Dr. Gregory's Legacy to his Daughters, that I enter on the task of criticism with affectionate respect; but as this little volume has many attractions to recommend it to the notice of the most respectable part of my sex, I cannot silently pass over arguments that so speciously support opinions which, I think, have had the most baneful effect on the morals and manners of the female world.

      His easy familiar style is particularly suited to the tenor of his advice, and the melancholy tenderness which his respect for the memory of a beloved wife, diffuses through the whole work, renders it very interesting; yet there is a degree of concise elegance conspicuous in many passages that disturbs this sympathy; and we pop on the author, when we only expected to meet the - father.

      Besides, having two objects in view, he seldom adhered steadily to either; for wishing to make his daughters amiable, and fearing lest unhappiness should only be the consequence, of instilling sentiments that might draw them out of the track of common life without enabling them to act with consonant independence and dignity, he checks the natural flow of his thoughts, and neither advises one thing nor the other.

      In the preface he tells them a mournful truth, "that they will hear, at least once in their lives, the genuine sentiments of a man who has no interest in deceiving them."

      Hapless woman! what can be expected from thee when the beings on whom thou art said naturally to depend for reason and support, have all an interest in deceiving thee! This is the root of the evil that has shed a corroding mildew on all thy virtues; and blighting in the bud thy opening faculties, has rendered thee the weak thing thou art!
      It is this separate interest - this insidious state of warfare, that undermines morality, and divides mankind!

      If love have made some women wretched, how many more has the cold unmeaning intercourse of gallantry rendered vain and useless!
      Yet this heartless attention to the sex is reckoned so manly, so polite that, till society is very differently organised, I fear, this vestige of gothic manners will not be done away by a more reasonable and affectionate mode of conduct.
      Besides, to strip it of its imaginary dignity, I must observe, that in the most uncivilised European states this lip-service prevails in a very great degree, accompanied with extreme dissoluteness of morals. In Portugal, the country that I particularly allude to, it takes place of the most serious moral obligations! for a man is seldom assassinated when in the company of a woman. The savage hand of rapine is unnerved by this chivalrous spirit; and, if the stroke of vengeance cannot be stayed, the lady is entreated to pardon the rudeness and depart in peace, though sprinkled, perhaps, with her husband's or brother's blood.

      I shall pass over his strictures on religion, because I mean to discuss that subject in a separate chapter.

      The remarks relative to behaviour, though many of them very sensible, I entirely disapprove of, because it appears to me to be beginning, as it were, at the wrong end. A cultivated understanding, and an affectionate heart, will never want starched rules of decorum - something more substantial than seemliness will be the result; and, without understanding the behaviour here recommended, would be rank affectation.
      Decorum, indeed, is the one thing needful! - decorum is to supplant nature, and banish all simplicity and variety of character out of the female world.
      Yet what good end can all this superficial counsel produce?
      It is, however, much easier to point out this or that mode of behaviour, than to set the reason to work; but, when the mind has been stored with useful knowledge, and strengthened by being employed, the regulation of the behaviour may safely be left to its guidance.

      Why, for instance, should the following caution be given when art of every kind must contaminate the mind; and why entangle the grand motives of action, which reason and religion equally combine to enforce, with pitiful worldly shifts and sleight-of-hand tricks to gain the applause of gaping tasteless fools?

      "Be even cautious in displaying your good sense. [6]
      "It will be thought you assume a superiority over the rest of the company.
      "But if you happen to have any learning, keep it a profound secret, especially from the men, who generally look with a jealous and malignant eye on a woman of great parts, and a cultivated understanding."

      If men of real merit, as he afterwards observes, be superior to this meanness, where is the necessity that the behaviour of the whole sex should be modulated to please fools, or men, who having little claim to respect as individuals, choose to keep close in their phalanx.
      Men, indeed, who insist on their common superiority, having only this sexual superiority, are certainly very excusable.

      There would be no end to rules for behaviour, if it be proper always to adopt the tone of the company; for thus, for ever varying the key, a flat would often pass for a natural note.

      Surely it would have been wiser to have advised women to improve themselves till they rose above the fumes of vanity; and then to let the public opinion come round - for where are rules of accommodation to stop?
      The narrow path of truth and virtue inclines neither to the right nor left - it is a straightforward business, and they who are earnestly pursuing their road, may bound over many decorous prejudices, without leaving modesty behind. Make the heart clean, and give the head employment, and I will venture to predict that there will be nothing offensive in the behaviour.

      The air of fashion, which many young people are so eager to attain, always strikes me like the studied attitudes of some modern pictures, copied with tasteless servility after the antiques; the soul is left out, and none of the parts are tied together by what may properly be termed character. This varnish of fashion, which seldom sticks very close to sense, may dazzle the weak; but leave nature to itself, and it will seldom disgust the wise.
      Besides, when a woman has sufficient sense not to pretend to anything which she does not understand in some degree, there is no need of determining to hide her talents under a bushel.
      Let things take their natural course, and all will be well.

      It is this system of dissimulation, throughout the volume, that I despise. Women are always to seem to be this and that - yet virtue might apostrophise them, in the words of Hamlet - Seems! I know not seems! Have that within passeth show!

      Still the same tone occurs; for in another place, after recommending, without sufficiently discriminating delicacy, he adds:

      "The men will complain of your reserve. They will assure you that a franker behaviour would make you more amiable.
      "But, trust me, they are not sincere when they tell you so.
      "I acknowledge that on some occasions it might render you more agreeable as companions, but it would make you less amiable as women: an important distinction, which many of your sex are not aware of."

      This desire of being always women, is the very consciousness that degrades the sex. Excepting with a lover, I must repeat with emphasis, a former observation - it would be well if they were only agreeable or rational companions. But in this respect his advice is even inconsistent with a passage which I mean to quote with the most marked approbation.

      "The sentiment, that a woman may allow all innocent freedoms, provided her virtue is secure, is both grossly indelicate and dangerous, and has proved fatal to many of your sex."

      With this opinion I perfectly coincide. A man, or a woman, of any feeling, must always wish to convince a beloved object that it is the caresses of the individual, not the sex, that are received and returned with pleasure; and, that the heart, rather than the senses, is moved. Without this natural delicacy, love becomes a selfish personal gratification that soon degrades the character.

      I carry this sentiment still further. Affection, when love is out of the question, authorises many personal endearments, that naturally flowing from an innocent heart, give life to the behaviour; but the personal intercourse of appetite, gallantry, or vanity, is despicable.
      When a man squeezes the hand of a pretty woman, handing her to a carriage, whom he has never seen before, she will consider such an impertinent freedom in the light of an insult, if she have any true delicacy, instead of being flattered by this unmeaning homage to beauty.
      These are the privileges of friendship, or the momentary homage which the heart pays to virtue, when it flashes suddenly on the notice - mere animal spirits have no claim to the kindnesses of affection.

      Wishing to feed the affections with what is now the food of vanity, I would fain persuade my sex to act from simpler principles. Let them merit love, and they will obtain it, though they may never be told that - "The power of a fine woman over the hearts of men, of men of the finest parts, is even beyond what she conceives."

      I have already noticed the narrow cautions with respect to duplicity, female softness, delicacy of constitution; for these are the changes which he rings round without ceasing - in a more decorous manner, it is true, than Rousseau; but it all comes home to the same point, and whoever is at the trouble to analyse these sentiments, will find the first principles not quite so delicate as the superstructure.

      The subject of amusements is treated in too cursory a manner; but with the same spirit.

      When I treat of friendship, love, and marriage, it will be found that we materially differ in opinion; I shall not then forestall what I have to observe on these important subjects; but confine my remarks to the general tenor of them, to that cautious family prudence, to those confined views of partial unenlightened affection, which exclude pleasure and improvement, by vainly wishing to ward off sorrow and error, and by thus guarding the heart and mind, destroy also all their energy.
      It is far better to be often deceived than never to trust; to be disappointed in love than never to love; to lose a husband's fondness than forfeit his esteem.

      Happy would it be for the world, and for individuals, of course, if all this unavailing solicitude to attain worldly happiness, on a confined plan, were turned into an anxious desire to improve the understanding.

      "Wisdom is the principal thing: Therefore get wisdom; and with all thy gettings get understanding.

      "How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity, and hate knowledge?"

saith Wisdom to the daughters of men.

SECTION IV

      I do not mean to allude to all the writers who have written on the subject of female manners - it would, in fact, be only beating over the old ground, for they have, in general, written in the same strain; but attacking the boasted prerogative of man - the prerogative that may emphatically be called the iron sceptre of tyranny, the original sin of tyrants, I declare against all power built on prejudices, however hoary.

      If the submission demanded be founded on justice - there is no appealing to a higher power - for God is justice itself. Let us then, as children of the same parent, if not bastardised by being the younger born, reason together, and learn to submit to the authority of Reason - when her voice is distinctly heard.
      But, if it proved, that this throne of prerogative only rests on a chaotic mass of prejudices, that have no inherent principle of order to keep them together, or on an elephant, tortoise, or even the mighty shoulders of a son of the earth, they may escape, who dare to brave the consequence, without any breach of duty, without sinning against the order of things.

      Whilst reason raises man above the brutal herd, and death is big with promises, they alone are subject to blind authority who have no reliance on their own strength. They are free - who will be free! [7]

      The being who can govern itself has nothing to fear in life; but if anything be dearer than its own respect, the price must be paid to the last farthing.
      Virtue, like everything valuable, must be loved for herself alone; or she will not take up her abode with us. She will not impart that peace, "which passeth understanding," when she is merely made the stilts of reputation; and respected, with pharisaical exactness, because "honesty is the best policy."

      That the plan of life which enables us to carry some knowledge and virtue into another world, is the one best calculated to ensure content in this, cannot be denied; yet few people act according to this principle, though it be universally allowed that it admits not of dispute.
      Present pleasure, or present power, carry before it these sober convictions; and it is for the day, not for life, that man bargains with happiness. How few! - how very few! have sufficient foresight, or resolution, to endure a small evil at the moment, to avoid a greater hereafter.

      Woman in particular, whose virtue [8] is built on mutable prejudices, seldom attains to this greatness of mind; so that, becoming the slave of her own feelings, she is easily subjugated by those of others. Thus degraded, her reason, her misty reason! is employed rather to burnish than to snap her chains.

      Indignantly have I heard women argue in the same track as men, and adopt the sentiments that brutalise them, with all the pertinacity of ignorance.

      I must illustrate my assertion by a few examples. Mrs. Piozzi, who often repeated by rote, what she did not understand, comes forward with Johnsonian periods.
      "Seek not for happiness in singularity; and dread a refinement of wisdom as a deviation into folly."
      Thus she dogmatically addresses a new married man; and to elucidate this pompous exordium, she adds,

      "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 woman will pardon an affront to her understanding much sooner than one to her person, is well known; nor will any of us contradict 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 endure it without complaint, it only proves that she means to make herself amends by the attention of others for the slights of her husband!"

      These are truly masculine sentiments. "All our arts are employed to gain and keep the heart of man:" - and what is the inference? - if her person, and was there ever a person, though formed with Medicean symmetry, that was not slighted be neglected, she will make herself amends by endeavouring to please other men.
      Noble morality! But thus is the understanding of the whole sex affronted, and their virtue deprived of the common basis of virtue.
      A woman must know, that her person cannot be as pleasing to her husband as it was to her lover, and if she be offended with him for being a human creature, she may as well whine about the loss of his heart as about any other foolish thing. And this very want of discernment or unreasonable anger, proves that he could not change his fondness for her person into affection for her virtues or respect for her understanding.

      Whilst women avow, and act up to such opinions, their understandings, at least, deserve the contempt and obloquy that men, who never insult their persons, have pointedly levelled at the female mind. And it is the sentiments of these polite men, who do not wish to be encumbered with mind, that vain women thoughtlessly adopt.
      Yet they should know, that insulted reason alone can spread that sacred reserve about the person, which renders human affections, for human affections have always some base alloy, as permanent as is consistent with the grand end of existence - the attainment of virtue.

      The Baroness de Stael speaks the same language as the lady just cited, with more enthusiasm. Her eulogium on Rousseau was accidentally put into my hands and her sentiments, the sentiments of too many of my sex, may serve as the text for a few comments.

      "Though Rousseau," she observes, "has endeavoured to prevent women from interfering in public affairs, and acting a brilliant part in the theatre of politics; yet in speaking of them, how much has he done it to their satisfaction! If he wished to deprive them of some rights foreign to their sex, how has he for ever restored to them all those to which it has a claim!
      "And in attempting to diminish their influence over the deliberations of men, how sacredly has he established the empire they have over their happiness!
      "In aiding them to descend from an usurped throne, he has firmly seated them upon that to which they were destined by nature; and though he be full of indignation against them when they endeavour to resemble men, yet when they come before him with all the charms, weaknesses, virtues, and errors of their sex, his respect for their persons amounts almost to adoration."

      True! For never was there a sensualist who paid more fervent adoration at the shrine of beauty. So devout, indeed, was his respect for the person, that excepting the virtue of chastity, for obvious reasons, he only wished to see it embellished by charms, weaknesses, and errors.
      He was afraid lest the austerity of reason should disturb the soft playfulness of love. The master wished to have a meretricious slave to fondle, entirely dependent on his reason and bounty; he did not want a companion, whom he should be compelled to esteem, or a friend to whom he could confine the care of his children's education, should death deprive them of their father, before he had fulfilled the sacred task.
      He denies woman reason, shuts her out from knowledge, and turns her aside from truth; yet his pardon is granted, because "he admits the passion of love."

      It would require some ingenuity to show why women were to be under such an obligation to him for thus admitting love; when it is clear that he admits it only for the relaxation of men, and to perpetuate the species; but he talked with passion, and that powerful spell worked on the sensibility of a young encomiast.

      "What signifies it," pursues this rhapsodist, "to women, that his reason disputes with them the empire, when his heart is devotedly theirs."
      It is not empire - but equality, that they should contend for. Yet, if they only wished to lengthen out their sway, they should not entirely trust to their persons, for though beauty may gain a heart, it cannot keep it, even while the beauty is in full bloom, unless the mind lend, at least, some graces.

      When women are once sufficiently enlightened to discover their real interest, on a grand scale, they will, I am persuaded, be very ready to resign all the prerogatives of love that are not mutual, speaking of them as lasting prerogatives, for the calm satisfaction of friendship, and the tender confidence of habitual esteem. Before marriage they will not assume any insolent airs, or afterwards abjectly submit; but endeavouring to act like reasonable creatures, in both situations, they will not be tumbled from a throne to a stool.

      Madame Genlis has written several entertaining books for children; and her Letters on Education afford many useful hints, that sensible parents will certainly avail themselves of; but her views are narrow, and her prejudices as unreasonable as strong.

      I shall pass over her vehement argument in favour of the eternity of future punishments, because I blush to think that a human being should ever argue vehemently in such a cause, and only make a few remarks on her absurd manner of making the parental authority supplant reason.
      For everywhere does she inculcate not only blind submission to parents, but to the opinion of the world. [9]

      She tells a story of a young man engaged by his father's express desire to a girl of fortune. Before the marriage could take place she is deprived of her fortune, and thrown friendless on the world.
      The father practises the most infamous arts to separate his son from her, and when the son detects his villainy, and, following the dictates of honour, marries the girl, nothing but misery ensues, because, forsooth! he married without his father's consent.
      On what ground can religion or morality rest when justice is thus set at defiance?       With the same view she represents an accomplished young woman, as ready to marry anybody that her mamma pleased to recommend; and, as actually marrying the young man of her own choice, without feeling any emotions of passion, because a well-educated girl had no time to be in love.
      Is it possible to have much respect for a system of education that thus insults reason and nature?

      Many similar opinions occur in her writings, mixed with sentiments that do honour to her head and heart. Yet so much superstition is mixed with her religion, and so much worldly wisdom with her morality, that I should not let a young person read her works, unless I could afterwards converse on the subjects, and point out the contradictions.

      Mrs. Chapone's letters are written with such good sense and unaffected humility, and contain so many useful observations, that I only mention them to pay the worthy writer this tribute of respect. I cannot, it is true, always coincide in opinion with her, but I always respect her.

      The very word respect brings Mrs. Macaulay to my remembrance. The woman of the greatest abilities, undoubtedly, that this country has ever produced; and yet this woman has been suffered to die without sufficient respect being paid to her memory.

      Posterity, however, will be more just, and remember that Catherine Macaulay was an example of intellectual acquirements supposed to be incompatible with the weakness of her sex. In her style of writing, indeed, no sex appears, for it is like the sense it conveys, strong and clear.

      I will not call hers a masculine understanding, because I admit not of such an arrogant assumption of reason; but I contend that it was a sound one, and that her judgment, the matured fruit of profound thinking, was a proof that a woman can acquire judgment in the full extent of the word.
      Possessing more penetration than sagacity, more understanding than fancy, she writes with sober energy and argumentative closeness; yet sympathy and benevolence give an interest to her sentiments, and that vital heat to arguments, which forces the reader to weigh them. [10]

      When I first thought of writing these strictures I anticipated Mrs. Macaulay's approbation, with a little of that sanguine ardour which it has been the business of my life to depress, but soon heard with the sickly qualm-of disappointed hope, and the still seriousness of regret - that she was no more!

SECTION V

      Taking a view of the different works which have been written on education, Lord Chesterfield's Letters must not be silently passed over. Not that I mean to analyse his unmanly, immoral system, or even to cull any of the useful, shrewd remarks which occur in his epistles. No, I only mean to make a few reflections on the avowed tendency of them, the art of acquiring an early knowledge of the world - an art, I will venture to assert, that preys secretly, like the worm in the bud, on the expanding powers, and turns to poison the generous juices which should mount with vigour in the youthful frame, inspiring warm affections and great resolves. [11]

      For everything, saith the wise man, there is a season; and who would look for the fruits of autumn during the genial months of spring? But this is mere declamation, and I mean to reason with those worldly-wise instructors, who, instead of cultivating the judgment, instill prejudices, and render hard the heart that gradual experience would only have cooled.
      An early acquaintance with human infirmities; or, what is termed knowledge of the world, is the surest way, in my opinion, to contract the heart and damp the natural youthful ardour which produces not only great talents, but great virtues. For the vain attempt to bring forth the fruit of experience, before the sapling has out thrown its leaves, only exhausts its strength, and prevents its assuming a natural form; just as the form and strength of subsiding metals are injured when the attraction of cohesion is disturbed.

      Tell me, ye who have studied the human mind, is it not a strange way to fix principles by showing young people that they are seldom stable?
      And how can they be fortified by habits when they are proved to be fallacious by example?
      Why is the ardour of youth thus to be damped, and the luxuriancy of fancy cut to the quick?
      This dry caution may, it is true, guard a character from worldly mischances, but will infallibly preclude excellence in either virtue or knowledge. [12] The stumbling-block thrown across every path by suspicion will prevent any vigorous exertions of genius or benevolence, and life will be stripped of its most alluring charm long before its calm evening, when man would retire to contemplation for comfort and support.

      A young man who has been bred up with domestic friends, and led to store his mind with as much speculative knowledge as can be acquired by reading and the natural reflections which youthful ebullitions of animal spirits and instinctive feelings inspire, will enter the world with warm and erroneous expectations. But this appears to be the course of Nature, and in morals, as well as in works of taste, we should be observant of her sacred indications, and not presume to lead when we ought obsequiously to follow.

      In the world few act from principle; present feelings and early habits are the grand springs; but how would the former be deadened, and the latter rendered iron-corroding fetters, if the world were shown to young people just as it is, when no knowledge of mankind or their own hearts, slowly obtained by experience, rendered them forbearing? Their fellow-creatures would not then be viewed as frail beings like themselves, condemned to struggle with human infirmities, and sometimes displaying the light, and sometimes the dark, side of their character; extorting alternate feelings of love and disgust, but guarded against as beasts of prey, till every enlarged social feeling - in a word, humanity - was eradicated.

      In life, on the contrary, as we gradually discover the imperfections of our nature, we discover virtues, and various circumstances attach us to our fellow-creatures, when we mix with them and view the same objects, that are never thought of in acquiring a hasty unnatural knowledge of the world.
      We see a folly swell into a vice, by almost imperceptible degrees, and pity while we blame; but if the hideous monster burst suddenly on our sight, fear and disgust, rendering us more severe than man ought to be, might lead us with blind zeal to usurp the character of omnipotence, and denounce damnation on our fellow-mortals, forgetting that we cannot read the heart, and that we have seeds of the same vices lurking in our own.

      I have already remarked that we expect more from instruction than mere instruction can produce; for instead of preparing young people to encounter the evils of life with dignity, and to acquire wisdom and virtue by the exercise of their own [13] faculties, precepts are heaped upon precepts, and blind obedience required when conviction should be brought home to reason.

      Suppose, for instance, that a young person, in the first ardour of friendship, deifies the beloved object, what harm can arise from this mistaken enthusiastic attachment? Perhaps it is necessary for virtue first to appear in a human form to impress youthful hearts; the ideal model, which a more matured and exalted mind looks up to, and shapes for itself, would elude their sight.
      "He who loves not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God?" asked the wisest of men.

      It is natural for youth to adorn the first object of its affection with every good quality, and the emulation produced by ignorance, or, to speak with more propriety, by inexperience, brings forward the mind capable of forming such an affection, and when, in the lapse of time, perfection is found not to be within the reach of mortals, virtue, abstractedly, is thought beautiful, and wisdom sublime.
      Admiration then gives place to friendship, properly so called, because it is cemented by esteem; and the being walks alone only dependent on Heaven for that emulous panting after perfection which ever glows in a noble mind.
      But this knowledge a man must gain by the exertion of his own faculties; and this is surely the blessed fruit of disappointed hope! for He who delighteth to diffuse happiness and show mercy to the weak creatures, who are learning to know Him, never implanted a good propensity to be a tormenting ignis fatuus.

      Our trees are now allowed to spread with wild luxuriance, nor do we expect by force to combine the majestic marks of time with youthful graces; but wait patiently till they have struck deep their root, and braved many a storm.
      Is the mind then, which, in proportion to its dignity, advances more slowly towards perfection, to be treated with less respect?
      To argue from analogy, everything around us is in a progressive state; and when an unwelcome knowledge of life produces almost a satiety of life, and we discover by the natural course of things that all that is done under the sun is vanity, we are drawing near the awful close of the drama.

      The days of activity and hope are over, and the opportunities which the first stage of existence has afforded of advancing in the scale of intelligence, must soon be summed up.
      A knowledge at this period of the futility of life, or earlier, if obtained by experience, is very useful, because it is natural; but when a frail being is shown the follies and vices of man, that he may be taught prudently to guard against the common casualties of life by sacrificing his heart - surely it is not speaking harshly to call it the wisdom of this world, contrasted with the nobler fruit of piety and experience.

      I will venture a paradox, and deliver my opinion without reserve; if men were only born to form a circle of life and death, it would be wise to take every step that foresight could suggest to render life happy. Moderation in every pursuit would then be supreme wisdom; and the prudent voluptuary might enjoy a degree of content, though he neither cultivated his understanding nor kept his heart pure.
      Prudence, supposing we were mortal, would be true wisdom, or, to be more explicit, would procure the greatest portion of happiness, considering the whole of life, but knowledge beyond the conveniences of life would be a curse.

      Why should we injure our health by close study? The exalted pleasure which intellectual pursuits afford would scarcely be equivalent to the hours of languor that follow; especially, if it be necessary to take into the reckoning the doubts and disappointments that cloud our researches.

      Vanity and vexation close every inquiry: for the cause which we particularly wished to discover flies like the horizon before us as we advance.
      The ignorant, on the contrary, resemble children, and suppose, that if they could walk straight forward they should at last arrive where the earth and clouds meet. Yet, disappointed as we are in our researches, the mind gains strength by the exercise, sufficient, perhaps, to comprehend the answers which, in another step of existence, it may receive to the anxious questions it asked, when the understanding with feeble wing was fluttering round the visible effects to dive into the hidden cause.

      The passions also, the winds of life, would be useless, if not injurious, did the substance which composes our thinking being, after we have thought in vain, only become the support of vegetable life, and invigorate a cabbage, or blush in a rose. The appetites would answer every earthly purpose, and produce more moderate and permanent happiness.
      But the powers of the soul that are of little use here, and, probably, disturb our animal enjoyments, even while conscious dignity makes us glory in possessing them, prove that life is merely an education, a state of infancy, to which the only hopes worth cherishing should not be sacrificed.
      I mean, therefore, to infer, that we ought to have a precise idea of what we wish to attain by education, for the immortality of the soul is contradicted by the actions of many people who firmly profess the belief.

      If you mean to secure ease and prosperity on earth as the first consideration, and leave futurity to provide for itself; you act prudently in giving your child an early insight into the weaknesses of his nature. You may not, it is true, make an Inkle of him; but do not imagine that he will stick to more than the letter of the law, who has very early imbibed a mean opinion of human nature; nor will he think it necessary to rise much above the common standard. He may avoid gross vices, because honesty is the best policy; but he will never aim at attaining great virtues.
      The example of writers and artists will illustrate this remark.

      I must therefore venture to doubt whether what has been thought an axiom in morals may not have been a dogmatical assertion made by men who have coolly seen mankind through the medium of books, and say, in direct contradiction to them, that the regulation of the passions is not, always, wisdom.

      On the contrary, it should seem, that one reason why men have superior judgment, and more fortitude than women, is undoubtedly this, that they give a freer scope to the grand passions, and by more frequently going astray enlarge their minds. If then by the exercise of their own reason they fix on some stable principle, they have probably to thank the force of their passions, nourished by false views of life, and permitted to overleap the boundary that secures content. But if, in the dawn of life, we could soberly survey the scenes before as in perspective, and see everything in its true colours, how could the passions gain sufficient strength to unfold the faculties?

      Let me now as from an eminence survey the world stripped of all its false delusive charms. The clear atmosphere enables me to see each object in its true point of view, while my heart is still. I am calm as the prospect in a morning when the mists, slowly dispersing, silently unveil the beauties of nature, refreshed by rest.

      In what light will the world now appear? I rub my eyes, and think, perchance, that I am just awaking from a lively dream.

      I see the sons and daughters of men pursuing shadows, and anxiously wasting their powers to feed passions which have no adequate object. If the very excess of these blind impulses, pampered by that lying, yet constantly trusted guide, the imagination, did not, by preparing them for some other state, render short-sighted mortals wiser without their own concurrence, or, what comes to the same thing, when pursuing some imaginary present good.

      After viewing objects in this light, it would not be fanciful to imagine that this world was a stage on which a pantomime is daily performed for the amusement of superior beings. How would they be diverted to see the ambitious man consuming himself by running after a phantom, and "pursuing the bubble fame in the cannon's mouth" that was to blow him to nothing; for when consciousness is lost, it matters not whether we mount in a whirlwind, or descend in rain.
      And should they compassionately invigorate his sight, and show him the thorny path which led to eminence, that, like a quicksand, sinks as he ascends, disappointing his hopes when almost within his grasp, would he not leave to others the honour of amusing them, and labour to secure the present moment, though, from the constitution of his nature, he would not find it very easy to catch the flying stream?       Such slaves are we to hope and fear!

      But vain as the ambitious man's pursuits would be, he is often striving for something more substantial than fame.
      That, indeed, would be the veriest meteor, the wildest fire that could lure a man to ruin.
      What! renounce the most trifling gratification to be applauded when he should be no more! Wherefore this struggle, whether man be mortal or immortal, if that noble passion did not really raise the being above his fellows?

      And love! What diverting scenes would it produce; pantaloon's tricks must yield to more egregious folly. To see a mortal adorn an object with imaginary charms, and then fall down and worship the idol which he had himself set up - how ridiculous.
      But what serious consequences ensue to rob man of that portion of happiness which the Deity by calling him into existence has (or on what can His attributes rest?) indubitably promised.
      Would not all the purposes of life have been much better fulfilled if he had only felt what has been termed physical love?
      And would not the sight of the object, not seen through the medium of the imagination, soon reduce the passion to an appetite if reflection, the noble distinction of man, did not give it force, and make it an instrument to raise him above this earthly dross, by teaching him to love the centre of all perfection, whose wisdom appears clearer and clearer in the works of nature in proportion as reason is illuminated and exalted by contemplation, and by acquiring that love of order which the struggles of passion produce?

      The habit of reflection, and the knowledge attained by fostering any passion, might be shown to be equally useful, though the object be proved equally fallacious; for they would all appear in the same light if they were not magnified by the governing passion implanted in us by the Author of all good to call forth and strengthen the faculties of each individual, and enable it to attain all the experience that an infant can obtain who does certain things, it cannot tell why.

      I descend from my height, and mixing with my fellow-creatures feel myself hurried along the common stream. Ambition, love, hope, and fear, exert their wonted power, though we be convinced by reason that their present and most attractive promises are only lying dreams; but had the cold hand of circumspection damped each generous feeling before it had left any permanent character, or fixed some habit, what could be expected but selfish prudence and reason just rising above instinct?
      Who that has read Dean Swift's disgusting description of the Yahoos, and insipid one of Houyhnhnm with a philosophical eye, can avoid seeing the futility of degrading the passions, or making man rest in contentment?

      The youth should act, for had he the experience of a grey head he would be fitter for death than life, though his virtues, rather residing in his head than his heart, could produce nothing great, and his understanding, prepared for this world, would not, by its noble flights, prove that it had a title to a better.

      Besides, it is not possible to give a young person a just view of life; he must have struggled with his own passions before he can estimate the force of the temptation which betrayed his brother into vice.
      Those who are entering life, and those who are departing, see the world from such very different points of view that they can seldom think alike, unless the unfledged reason of the former never attempted a solitary flight.

      When we hear of some daring crime, it comes full on us in the deepest shade of turpitude, and raises indignation; but the eye that gradually saw the darkness thicken must observe it with more compassionate forbearance.
      The world cannot be seen by an unmoved spectator; we must mix in the throng, and feel as men feel, before we can judge of their feelings. If we mean, in short, to live in the world, to grow wiser and better, and not merely to enjoy the good things of life, we must attain a knowledge of others at the same time that we become acquainted with ourselves. Knowledge acquired any other way only hardens the heart, and perplexes the understanding.

      I may be told that the knowledge thus acquired is sometimes purchased at too dear a rate.
      I can only answer that I very much doubt whether any knowledge can be attained without labour and sorrow; and those who wish to spare their children both should not complain if they are neither wise nor virtuous. They only aimed at making them prudent, and prudence early in life is but the cautious craft of ignorant self-love.

      I have observed that young people, to whose education particular attention has been paid, have in general been very superficial and conceited, and far from pleasing in any respect, because they had neither the unsuspecting warmth of youth, nor the cool depth of age.
      I cannot help imputing this unnatural appearance principally to that hasty premature instruction which leads them presumptuously to repeat all the crude notions they have taken upon trust, so that the careful education which they received, makes them all their lives the slaves of prejudices.

      Mental as well as bodily exertion is at first irksome; so much so, that the many would fain let others both work and think for them. An observation which I have often made will illustrate my meaning.
      When in a circle of strangers or acquaintances a person of moderate abilities asserts an opinion with heat, I will venture to affirm - for I have traced this fact home - very often that it is a prejudice. These echoes have a high respect for the understanding of some relation or friend, and without fully comprehending the opinions which they are so eager to retail, they maintain them with a degree of obstinacy that would surprise even the person who concocted them.

      I know that a kind of fashion now prevails of respecting prejudices; and when anyone dares to face them, though actuated by humanity and armed by reason, he is superciliously asked whether his ancestors were fools. No, I should reply. Opinions at first of every description were all probably considered, and therefore were founded on some reason; yet not unfrequently, of course, it was rather a local expedient than a fundamental principle that would be reasonable at all times.
      But moss-covered opinions assume the disproportioned form of prejudices when they are indolently adopted only because age has given them a venerable aspect, though the reason on which they were built ceases to be a reason, or cannot be traced.

      Why are we to love prejudices merely because they are prejudices? [14] A prejudice is a fond obstinate persuasion for which we can give no reason; for the moment a reason can be given for an opinion, it ceases to be a prejudice, though it may be an error in judgment; and are we then advised to cherish opinions only to set reason at defiance?
      This mode of arguing, if arguing it may be called, reminds me of what is vulgarly termed a woman's reason; for women sometimes declare that they love, or believe certain things, because they love or believe them.

      It is impossible to converse with people to any purpose who only use affirmatives and negatives.
      Before you can bring them to a point to start fairly from, you must go back to the simple principles that were antecedent to the prejudices broached by power; and it is ten to one but you are stopped by the philosophical assertion that certain principles are as practically false as they are abstractly true. [15]

      Nay, it may be inferred that reason has whispered some doubts, for it generally happens that people assert their opinions with the greatest heat when they begin to waver; striving to drive out their own doubts by convincing their opponent, they grow angry when those gnawing doubts are thrown back to prey on themselves.

      The fact is, that men expect from education, what education cannot give.
      A sagacious parent or tutor may strengthen the body and sharpen the instruments by which the child is to gather knowledge; but the honey must be the reward of the individual's own industry.
      It is almost as absurd to attempt to make a youth wise by the experience of another, as to expect the body to grow strong by the exercise which is only talked of, or seen. [16]

      Many of those children whose conduct has been most narrowly watched, become the weakest men, because their instructors only instill certain notions into their minds, that have no other foundation than their authority; and if they be loved or respected, the mind is cramped in its exertions and wavering in its advances.
      The business of education in this case, is only to conduct the shooting tendrils to a proper pole; yet after laying precept upon precept, without allowing a child to acquire judgment itself, parents expect them to act in the same manner by this borrowed fallacious light, as if they had illuminated it themselves; and be, when they enter life, what their parents are at the close. They do not consider that the tree, and even the human body, does not strengthen its fibres till it has reached its full growth.

      There appears to be something analogous in the mind. The senses and the imagination give a form to the character, during childhood and youth; and the understanding, as life advances, gives firmness to the first fair purposes of sensibility, till virtue, arising rather from the clear conviction of reason than the impulse of the heart, morality is made to rest on a rock against which the storms of passion vainly beat.

      I hope I shall not be misunderstood when I say, that religion will not have this condensing energy, unless it be founded on reason. If it be merely the refuge of weakness or wild fanaticism, and not a governing principle of conduct, drawn from self-knowledge, and a rational opinion respecting the attributes of God, what can it be expected to produce?
      The religion which consists in warming the affections, and exalting the imagination, is only the poetical part, and may afford the individual pleasure without rendering it a more moral being. It may be a substitute for worldly pursuits; yet narrow, instead of enlarging the heart: but virtue must be loved as in itself sublime and excellent, and not for the advantages it procures or the evils. It averts, if any great degree of excellence be expected.
      Men will not become moral when they only build airy castles in a future world to compensate for the disappointments which they meet with in this; if they turn their thoughts from relative duties to religious reveries.

      Most prospects in life are marred by the shuffling worldly wisdom of men, who, forgetting that they cannot serve God and mammon, endeavour to blend contradictory things.
      If you wish to make your son rich, pursue one course. If you are only anxious to make him virtuous, you must not imagine that you can bound from one road to the other without losing your way. [17]

NOTES, continued.

[5] Can you? - Can you? would be the most emphatical comment, were it drawled out in a whining voice. RETURN TO TEXT

[6] Let women once acquire good sense - and if it deserve the name, it will teach them; or, of what use will it be? how to employ it. RETURN TO TEXT

[7] "He is the free man, whom the truth makes free!"
            -- Cowper. RETURN TO TEXT

[8] I mean to use a word that comprehends more than chastity, the sexual virtue. RETURN TO TEXT

[9] A person is not to act in this or that way, though convinced they are right in so doing, because some equivocal circumstances may lead the world to suspect that they acted from different motives.
      This is sacrificing the substance for a shadow.
      Let people by watch their own hearts, and act rightly, as far as they can judge, and they may patiently wait till the opinion of the world comes round.
      It is best to be directed by a simple motive, for justice has too often been sacrificed to propriety - another word for convenience. RETURN TO TEXT

[10] Coinciding in opinion with Mrs. Macauly relative to many branches of education, I refer to her valuable work, instead of quoting her sentiments to support my own. RETURN TO TEXT

[11] That children ought to be constantly guarded against the vices and follies of the world appears to me a very mistaken opinion; for in the course of my experience, and my eyes have looked abroad, I never knew a youth educated in this manner, who had early imbibed these chilling suspicions, and repeated by rote the hesitating if of age, that did not prove a selfish character. RETURN TO TEXT

[12] I have already observed that an early knowledge of the world, obtained in a natural way, by mixing in the world, has the same effect, instancing officers and women. RETURN TO TEXT

[13] "I find that all is but lip-wisdom which want experience," says Sidney. RETURN TO TEXT

[14] Vide Mr. Burke. RETURN TO TEXT

[15]

"Convince a man against his will,
He's of the same opinion still."  RETURN TO TEXT

[16] "One sees nothing when one is content to contemplate only: it is necessary to act oneself to be able to see how others act."
            -- Rousseau. RETURN TO TEXT

[17] See an excellent essay on this subject by Mrs. Barbauld, in Miscellaneous Pieces in Prose. RETURN TO TEXT