thousand in this. Yet settlements are expected that often, to a mercantile man especially, sink a fortune into uselessness; and pin-money is stipulated for, which makes a wife independent, and destroys love, by putting it out of a man's power to lay any obligation upon her, that might engage gratitude and kindle affection. When to all this the card-tables are added, how can a prudent man think of marrying? . . . But should your expostulations and reproof have no effect upon those who are far gone in fashionable folly, they may be retailed from their mouths to their nieces (marriage will not often have entitled them to daughters), when they, the meteors of a day, find themselves elbowed off the stage of vanity by other flutterers; for the most admired women cannot have many Tunbridge, many Bath seasons to blaze in; since even fine faces often seen are less regarded than new faces, the proper punishment of showy girls for rendering themselves so impoliticly cheap. I am, Sir, your sincere admirer, &c. The Rambler, No. 97, Tuesday, February 19, 1751. RICHARDSON TO LADY BRADSHAIGH ON LEARNING IN WOMEN. DEAR MADAM,-You do not approve of great learning in women. Learning in women may be either rightly or wrongly placed, according to the uses made of it by them. And if the sex is to be brought up with a view to make the individuals of it inferior in knowledge to the husbands they may happen to have, not knowing who those husbands are, or what, or whether sensible or foolish, learned or illiterate, it would be best to keep them from writing and reading, and even from the knowledge of the common idioms of speech. Would it not be very pretty for parents on both sides to make it the first subject of their inquiries, whether the girl, as a recommendation, were a greater fool, or more ignorant, than the young fellow; and if not, that they should reject her, for the booby's sake?and would not your objection stand as strongly against a preference in mother wit in the girl, as against what is called learning since linguists (I will not call all linguists learned men) do very seldom make the figure in conversation that even girls from sixteen to twenty make. If a woman has genius, let it take its course, as well as in men; provided she neglects not any thing that is more peculiarly her province. If she has good sense, she will not make the man she chooses, who wants her knowledge, uneasy, nor despise him for that want. Her good sense will teach her what is her duty; nor will she want reminding of the tenor of her marriage vow to him. If she has not, she will find a thousand ways to plague him, though she know not one word beyond her mothertongue, nor how to write, read, or speak properly in that. The English, madam, and particularly what we call the plain English, is a very copious and very expressive language. 66 But, dear madam, does what you say in the first part of the paragraph under my eye, limiting the genius of women, quite cohere with the advantages which, in the last part, you tell me they have over us?"Men do well," you say, to keep women in ignorance:" but this is not generally intended to be the case, I believe. Girls, I think you formerly said, were compounded of brittle materials. They are not, they cannot be, trusted to be sent abroad to seminaries of learning, as men are. It is necessary that they should be brought up to a knowledge of the domestic duties. A young man's learning time is from ten to twentyfive, more or less. At fifteen or sixteen a girl starts into woman; and then she throws her purveying eyes about her: and what is the learning she is desirous to obtain?Dear lady, discourage not the sweet souls from acquiring any learning that may keep them employed, and out of mischief, and that may divert them from attending to the whisperings within them, and to the flatteries without them, till they have taken in a due quality of ballast, that may hinder them, all their sails unfurled and streamers flying, from being overset at their first entrance upon the voyage of life. To LADY BRADSHAIGH ON MEN AND WOMEN. NORTH-END, Dec. 26, 1751. Tell you sincerely, which do I think, upon the whole, men or women, have the greatest trials of patience, and which bears them the best? You mean, you say, from one sex to the other only?-What a question is here! Which? Why women, to be sure. Man is an animal that must bustle in the world, go abroad, converse, fight battles, encounter other dangers of seas, winds, and I know not what, in order to protect, provide for, maintain, in ease and plenty, women. Bravery, anger, fierceness, occasionally are made familiar to them. They buffet and are buffeted by the world; are impatient and uncontrollable. They talk of honour, and run their heads against stone walls to make good their pretensions to it; and often quarrel with one another, and fight duels, upon any other silly thing that happens to raise their choler; with their shadows, if you please. LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU. While women are meek, passive, good creatures, who, used to stay at home, set their maids at work, and formerly themselves,-get their houses in order, to receive, comfort, oblige, give joy to their fierce, fighting, bustling, active protectors, providers, maintainers, divert him with pretty pug's tricks, tell him soft tales of love, and of who and who's together, and what has been done in his absence,―bring to him little master, so like his own dear papa; and little pretty miss, a soft, sweet, smiling soul, with her sampler in her hand, so like what her meek mamma was at her years! And with these differences in education, nature, employments, your ladyship asks, whether the man or the woman bears more from each other? has the more patience? Dearest lady! how can you be so severe upon your own sex, yet seem to persuade yourself that you are defending them? 161 him, and be occasionally, if not indifferent, unpunctual, and delight in being missed, expected, and called to tender account for his careless absences: and he will be less and less solicitous about giving good reasons for them, as she is more and more desirous of his company. Poor fool! he has brought her to own that she loves him: and will she not bear with the man she loves? She, herself, as I have observed, will think she must act consistently with her declaration; and he will plead that declaration in his favour, let his neglects or slights be what they will. LADY MARY WORTLEY best collection will be found in The Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, edited by her great-grandson, Lord Wharncliffe, Lond., 1837, 5 vols. 8vo; 2d and best edit. also 1837. See also her Letters from eldest daughter of Evelyn, Earl of Kingston What you say of a lover's pressing his (afterwards Marquis of Dorchester, finally mistress to a declaration of her love for him, Mary Fielding, daughter of William, Earl Duke of Kingston), by his wife the Lady is sweetly pretty, and very just; but let a of Denbigh, born about 1690, and married man press as he will, if the lady answers him rather by her obliging manners than in 1712 to Edward Wortley Montagu, acin words, she will leave herself something dence as ambassador to the Porte, 1716-18; companied her husband during his resito declare, and she will find herself rather more than less respected for it: such is the resided without her husband on the Continature of man!-A man hardly ever pre-ber, 1761, and died August 21, 1762. Whilst nent, 1739-1761; returned to England, Octosumes to press a lady to make this declara- abroad she wrote many epistles, of which the tion, but when he thinks himself sure of her. He urges her, therefore, to add to his own consequence; and hopes to quit scores with her, when he returns love for love, and favour for favour: and thus "draws the tender-hearted soul to professions which she is often upbraided for all her life after," says your ladyship. But these must be the most ungenerous of men. All I By her exertions inoculation for the smallwould suppose is that pride and triumph is the meaning of the urgency for a declara-pox was introduced into England. Pope tion which pride and triumph make a man think unnecessary; and perhaps to know how far he may go, and be within allowed compass. A woman who is brought to own her love to the man, must act accordingly towards him; must be more indulgent to him; must, in a word, abate of her own significance, and add to his. And have you never seen a man strut upon the occasion, and how tame and bashful a woman looks after she has submitted to make the acknowl edgment? The behaviour of each to the other, upon it and after it, justifies the caution to the sex, which I would never have a woman forget, always to leave to herself the power of granting something: yet her denials may be so managed as to be more attractive than her compliance. Women, Lovelace says (and he pretends to know them), are fond of ardours; but there is an end of them when a lover is secure. He can then look about the Levant, edited by J. A. St. John, Lond., 1838, fp. 8vo, and her Works, with Memoirs, Lond., 1803, 5 vols. 8vo. quarrelled with, and, of course, abused her. "The letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu are not unworthy of being named after those of Madame de Sévigné. They have much of the French ease and vivacity, and retain more the character of agreeable epistolary style than per haps any other letters which have appeared in the English language."-DR. HUGH BLAIR: Lects, on Rhetoric and Belles-Letters, Lect. xxxvii, "A reader need only glance at Lady Mary's letters to see that she was not less distinguished for wit than prone to indulge in sarcasm, in scansorts.... We have no doubt whatsoever that ore dal, and in a very free range of opinions of all of the things which drove Lady Mary from England was the enmity she caused all around her by the license of her tongue and pen. She was always writing scandal: a journal full of it was burnt by her family; her very panegyrics were sometimes malicious, or were thought so, in consequence of her character, as in the instance of the extraordi nary verses addressed to Mrs. Murray in connexion with a trial for a man's life. Pope himself, with all the temptations of his wit and resentment, would hardly have written of her as he did had her reputation for offence been less a matter of notoriety." -LEIGH HUNT: Men, Women, and Books, vol. ii. LADY MONTAGU TO E. W. MONTAGU, ESQ., IN PROSPECT OF MARRIAGE. One part of my character is not so good, nor t'other so bad, as you fancy it. Should we ever live together you would be disappointed both ways: you would find an easy equality of temper you do not expect, and a thousand faults you do not imagine. You think if you married me I should be passionately fond of you one month, and of somebody else the next. Neither would happen. I can esteem, I can be a friend; but I don't know whether I can love. Expect all that in complaisant and easy, but never what is fond, in me. As to travelling, 'tis what I should do with great pleasure, and could easily quit London upon your account; but a retirement in the country is not so disagreeable to me as I know a few months would make it tiresome to you. Where people are tied for life 'tis their mutual interest not to grow weary of one another. If I had all the personal charms that I want, a face is too slight a foundation for happiness. You would be soon tired of seeing every day the same thing. Where you saw nothing else, you would have leisure to remark all the defects: which would increase in proportion as the novelty lessened, which is always a great charm. I should have the displeasure of seeing a coldness, which, though I could not reasonably blame you for, being involuntary, yet it would render me uneasy; and the more, because I know a love may be revived, which absence, inconstancy, or even infidelity has extinguished; but there is no returning from a dégoût given by satiety.... TO THE SAME ON MATRIMONIAL HAPPINESS. If we marry, our happiness must consist in loving one another: 'tis principally my concern to think of the most probable method of making that love eternal. You object against living in London: I am not fond of it myself, and readily give it up to you, though I am assured there needs more art to keep a fondness alive in solitude, where it generally preys upon itself. There is one article absolutely necessary-to be ever beloved, one must be ever agreeable. There is no such thing as being agreeable without a thorough good humour, a natural sweetness of temper enlivened by cheerfulness. Whatever natural funds of gaiety one is born with, 'tis necessary to be entertained with agreeable objects. Any body capable of tasting pleasure, when they confine themselves to one place, should take care 'tis the place in the world the most agreeable. Whatever you may now think (now, perhaps, you have some fondness for me), though your love should continue in its full force, there are hours when the most beloved mistress would be troublesome. People are not forever (nor is it in human nature that they should be) disposed to be fond; you would be glad to find in me the friend and the companion. To be agreeably the last, it is necessary to gay and entertaining. be A perpetual solitude in a place where you see nothing to raise your spirits at length wears them out, and conversation insensibly falls into dull and insipid. When I have no more to say to you, you will like me no longer. How dreadful is that view! You will reflect, for my sake you have abandoned the conversation of a friend that you liked, and your situation in a country where all things would have contributed to make your life pass in (the true volupte) a smooth tranquillity. I shall lose the vivacity which should entertain you, and you will have nothing to recompense you for what you have lost. Very few people that have settled entirely in the country but have grown at length weary of one another. The lady's conversation generally falls into a thousand impertinent effects of idleness; and the gentleman falls in love with his dogs and his horses, and out of love with everything else. I am not now arguing in favour of the town; you have answered me as to that point. In respect of your health, 'tis the first thing to be considered, and I shall never ask you to do anything injurious to that. But 'tis my opinion, 'tis necessary to be happy that we neither of us think any place more agreeable than that where we are. TO THE COUNTESS OF BUTE ON FEMALE EDUCATION. LOUVERE, Jan. 28, N. S., 1753. DEAR CHILD,-You have given me a great deal of satisfaction by your account of your eldest daughter. I am particularly pleased to hear she is a good arithmetician; it is the best proof of understanding: the knowledge of numbers is one of the chief distinctions between us and brutes. . . . Learning, if she has a real taste for it, will not only make her contented, but happy in it [retirement]. No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any pleasure so lasting. She will not want new fashions, nor regret the loss of expensive diversions, or variety of company, if she can be amused with an author in her closet. To render this amusement complete, she should be permitted to learn the languages. I have heard it lamented that boys lose so many years in mere learning of words: this JOSEPH BUTLER. is no objection to a girl, whose time is not so precious: she cannot advance herself in any profession, and has therefore more hours to spare; and as you say her memory is good, she will be very agreeably employed this way. There are two cautions to be given on this subject: first, not to think herself learned when she can read Latin, or even Greek. Languages are more properly to be called vehicles of learning than learning itself, as may be observed in many schoolmasters, who, though perhaps critics in grammar, are the most ignorant fellows upon earth. True knowledge consists in knowing things, not words. I would no further wish her a linguist than to enable her to read books in their originals, that are often corrupted, and always injured by translations. Two hours' application every morning will bring this about much sooner than you can imagine, and she will have leisure enough besides to run over the English poetry, which is a more important part of a woman's education than it is generally supposed. Many a young damsel has been ruined by a fine copy of verses which she would have laughed at if she had known it had been stolen from Mr. Waller.... The second caution to be given her (and which is most absolutely necessary), is to conceal whatever learning she attains, with as much solicitude as she would hide crookedness or 163 or Do not fear this should make her affect the It is a saying of Thucydides, that ignorance is bold and knowledge reserved. Indeed it is impossible to be far advanced in it without being more humbled by a conviction of human ignorance than elated by learning. At the same time I recommend books, I neither exclude work nor drawing. I think it is as scandalous for a woman not to know how to use a needle, as for a man not to know how to use a sword. JOSEPH BUTLER, D.C.L., born 1692, Preacher at the Rolls, 1718-1726, Clerk of the Closet to Queen Caroline, 1736, Bishop of Bristol, 1738, Bishop of Durham, 1750, died 1752, will always be remembered for his great work The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature, to which are added Two Brief Dissertations: 1. On Personal Identity: 2. On the Nature of Virtue. The first edition of the Analogy was published in 1736. The Works, with an Account by Bishop Halifax, appeared. Oxford, 1807, 2 vols. 8vo; same, Oxford, 1849, 2 vols. 8vo; Works, New York, 1845, 8vo. The Works contain The Analogy and Two Dissertations, twenty-one Sermons, A Charge, and Correspondence between Dr. Butler and Dr. [Samuel] Clarke. "The author to whom I am under the greatest obligations is Bishop Butler.... The whole of this admirable treatise-one of the most remark lameness: the parade of it can only serve to draw on her the envy, and consequently the most inveterate hatred, of all he and she fools, which will certainly be at least three parts in four of her acquaintance. The use of knowledge in our sex, beside the amusement of solitude, is to moderate the passions, and learn to be contented with a small expense, which are the certain effects of a studious life; and it may be preferable even to that fame which men have engrossed to themselves, and will not suffer us to share. You will tell me I have not observed this rule myself; but you are mistaken: it is only inevitable accident that has given me any reputation that way. I have always carefully avoided it, and ever thought it a mis-able that any language can produce-is intended fortune. The explanation of this paragraph would occasion a long digression, which I will not trouble you with, it being my present design only to say what I think useful to my granddaughter, which I have much at heart. If she has the same inclination (I should say passion) for learning that I was born with, history, geography, and philosophy will furnish her with materials to pass away cheerfully a longer life than is allotted to mortals. I believe there are few heads capable of making Sir Isaac Newton's calculations, but the result of them is not difficult to be understood by a moderate capacity. taught in the Scriptures are strictly analogous to to show that the principles of moral government those everywhere exhibited in the government of the world as seen in natural religion."-DR. FRANCIS WAYLAND: Moral Phil., p. 5; Intellec. Phil., p. 338. in any language on the philosophy of religion." "The most original and profound work extant SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH: 2d Prelim. Dissert. to Encyc. Brit. "I have derived greater aid from the views and reasonings of Bishop Butler than I have been able to find besides in the whole range of our extant authorship."-DR. T. CHALMERS: Bridgewater Treatise, Pref. Butler's Sermons also are very valuable. REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. es That which makes the question concerning a future life to be of so great importance to us, is our capacity of happiness and misery. And that which makes the consideration of it to be of so great importance to us, is the supposition of our happiness or misery hereafter depending upon our actions here. Without this indeed, curiosity could not but sometimes bring a subject, in which we may be so highly interested, to our thoughts; pecially upon the mortality of others, or the near prospect of our own. But reasonable men would not take any further thought about hereafter, than what should happen thus occasionally to rise in their minds, if it were certain that our future interest no way depended upon our present behaviour; whereas, on the contrary, if there be ground, either from analogy or anything else, to think it does, then there is reason also for the most active thought and solicitude to secure that interest; to behave so as that we may escape that misery, and obtain that happiness in another life which we not only suppose ourselves capable of, but which we apprehend also is put in our own power. And whether there be ground for this last apprehension certainly would deserve to be most seriously considered, were there no other proof of a future life and interest than that presumptive one which the foregoing observations amount to. Now in the present state, all which we enjoy, and a great part of what we suffer, is put in our own power. For pleasure and pain are the consequences of our actions; and we are endued by the Author of our nature with capacities for foreseeing these consequences. We find by experience he does not so much as preserve our lives, exclusively of our own care and attention to provide ourselves with, and to make use of, that sustenance by which he has appointed our lives shall be preserved; and without which he has appointed they shall not be preserved at all. ́ ́And in general we foresee that the external things which are the objects of our various passions can neither be obtained nor enjoyed without exerting our selves in such and such manners: but by thus exerting ourselves we obtain and enjoy these objects in which our natural good consists; or by this means God gives us the possession and enjoyment of them. I know not that we have any one kind or degree of enjoyment but by the means of our own actions. And by prudence and care we may, for the most part, pass our days in tolerable ease and quiet: or, on the contrary, we may, by rashness, ungoverned passion, wilfulness, or even by negligence, make our selves as miserable as ever we please. And many do please to make themselves extremely miserable, i.e., to do what they know beforehand will render them so. They follow those ways the fruit of which they know, by instruction, example, experience, will be disgrace, and poverty, and sickness, and untimely death. This every one observes to be the general course of things; though it is to be allowed we cannot find by experience that all our sufferings are owing to our own follies. Why the Author of Nature does not give his creatures promiscuously such and such perceptions without regard to their behaviour; why he does not make them happy without the instrumentality of their own actions, and prevent their bringing any sufferings upon themselves, is another matter. Perhaps there may be some impossibilities in the nature of things, which we are unacquainted with. Or less happiness, it may be, would upon the whole be produced by such a method than is by the present. Or perhaps divine goodness, with which, if I mistake not, we make very free in our speculations, may not be a bare single disposition to produce happiness; but a disposition to make the good, the faithful, the honest man happy. ANALOGY, Chap. II. CONSCIENCE. There is a principle of reflection in men by which they distinguish between, approve and disapprove their own actions. We are plainly constituted such sort of creatures as to reflect upon our own nature. The mind can take a view of what passes within itself, its propensions, aversions, passions, affections, as respecting such objects, and in such degrees; and of the several actions consequent thereupon. In this survey it approves of one, disapproves of another, and towards a third is affected in neither of these ways, but is quite indifferent. This principle in man, by which he approves or disapproves his heart, temper, and actions, is conscience; for this is the strict sense of the word, though sometimes it is used so as to take in more. And that this faculty tends to restrain men from doing mischief to each other, and leads them to do good, is too manifest to need Thus a parent has the being insisted upon. affection of love to his children: this leads him to take care of, to educate, to make due provision for them; the natural affection leads to this: but the reflection that it is his proper business, what belongs to him, that it is right and commendable so to do; this added to the affection becomes a much more settled principle, and carries him on |