AN ESSAY In Defence of the Female Sex, &c. (continued 2)

There are another sort of Impertinents, |Character of a Vertuoso.| who, as they mind not the Business of other Men where it concerns ’em not, neglect it likewise where it does; and amuse themselves continually with the Contemplation of those things, which the rest of the World slight as useless, and below their regard. Of these the most Egregious is the Virtuoso, who is one that has sold an Estate in Land to purchase one in Scallop, Conch, Muscle, Cockle Shells, Periwinkles, Sea Shrubs, Weeds, Mosses, Sponges, Coralls, Corallines, Sea Fans, Pebbles, Marchasites and Flint stones; and has abandon’d the Acquaintance and Society of Men for that of Insects, Worms, Grubbs, Maggots, Flies, Moths, Locusts, Beetles, 97Spiders, Grashoppers, Snails, Lizards and Tortoises. His study is like Noah’s Ark, the general Rendezvous of all Creatures in the Universe, and the greatest part of his Moveables are the remainders of his Deluge. His Travels are not design’d as Visits to the Inhabitants of any Place, but to the Pits, Shores and Hills; from whence he fetches not the Treasure, but the Trumpery. He is ravish’d at finding an uncommon shell, or an odd shap’d Stone, and is desperately enamour’d at first sight of an unusual markt Butter-flie, which he will hunt a whole day to be Master of. He trafficks to all places, and has his Correspondents in e’ry part of the World; yet his Merchandizes serve not to promote our Luxury, nor encrease our Trade, and neither enrich the Nation, nor himself. A Box or two of Pebbles or Shells, and a dozen of Wasps, Spiders and Caterpillars are his Cargoe, He values a Camelion or Salamanders Egg, above all the Sugars and Spices of the West and East-indies, 98and wou’d give more for the Shell of a Star-fish, or Sea Urchin entire, than for a whole Dutch Herring Fleet. He visites Mines, Colepits, and Quarries frequently, but not for that sordid end that other Men usually do, viz. gain; but for the sake of the fossile Shells and Teeth that are sometimes found there. He is a smatterer at Botany, but for fear of being suspected of any useful design by it, he employs his curiosity only about Mosses, Grasses, Brakes, Thistles, &c. that are not accus’d of any vertue in Medicine, which he distinguishes and divides very nicely. He preserves carefully those Creatures, which other Men industriously destroy, and cultivates sedulously those Plants, which others root up as Weeds. He is the Embalmer of deceas’d Vermin, and dresses his Mummyes with as much care, as the Ancient Egyptians did their Kings. His Cash consists much in old Coins, and he thinks the Face of Alexander in one of ’em worth more than all his Conquests. His Inventory is a list of the Insects 99of all Countries, and the Shells and Pebbles of all Shores, which can no more be compleat without two or three of remarkable Signatures, than an Apothecaries Shop without a Tortoise and a Crocodile, or a Country Barber’s without a batter’d Cittern. A piece of Ore with a Shell in it is a greater Present than if it were fine Gold, and a string of Wampompeag is receiv’d with more joy, than a Rope of Orient Pearl, or Diamonds wou’d be. His Collection of Garden Snails, Cockle Shells and Vermine compleated, (as he thinks) he sets up for a Philosopher, and nothing less than Universal Nature will serve for a Subject, of which he thinks he has an entire History in his Lumber Office. Hence forward he struts and swells, and despises all those little insignificant Fellows, that can make no better use of those noble incontestable Evidences of the Universal Deluge, Scallop and Oyster Shells, than to stew Oysters, or melt Brimstone for Matches. By this time he thinks it necessary to give the 100World an Essay of his Parts, that it may think as highly of ’em (if possible) as he does himself; and finding Moses hard beset of late, he resolves to give him a lift, and defend his Flood, to which he is so much oblig’d for sparing his darling Toys only. But as great Masters use, he corrects him sometimes for not speaking to his Mind, and gives him the lie now and then in order to support his Authority. He shakes the World to Atoms with ease, which melts before him as readily as if it were nothing but a Ball of Salt. He pumps even the Center, and drains it of imaginary stores by imaginary Loopholes, as if punching the Globe full of holes cou’d make his Hypothesis hold Water. He is a Man of Expedition, and does that in a few days, which cost Moses some Months to compleat. He is a Passionate Admirer of his own Works without a Rival, and superciliously contemns all Answers, yet the least Objection throws him into the Vapours. He sets up for a grand Philosopher, and 101palms Hypotheses upon the World, which future Ages may (if they please) expect to hear his Arguments for; at present he is in no humour to give ’em any other satisfaction than his own word, that he is infallible. Yet those that have a Faith complacent enough to take a Gentleman’s word for his own great Abilities, may perhaps be admitted to a sight of his grand Demonstration, his Raree Show; the particulars of which he repeats to ’em in a whining Tone, e’ry whit as formal and merry, though not so Musical, as the Fellows that used formerly to carry theirs at their Backs. His ordinary discourse is of his Travels under Ground, in which he has gone farther (if he may be believ’d) than a whole Warren of Conies. Here he began his Collection of Furniture for his Philosophical Toy Shop, which he will conclude with his Fortune, and then like all Flesh revert to the place from whence he came, and be translated only from one Shop to another.

102This, Madam, is another sort of Impertience our Sex are not liable to; one wou’d think that none but Mad Men, or highly Hypochondriacal, cou’d employ themselves at this rate. I appeal to you, or indeed to any Man of Sense, whether acts like the wiser Animal; the man that with great care, and pains distinguishes and divides the many Varieties of Grass, and finds no other Fruit of his labour, than the charging of his Memory with abundance of superfluous Names; or the Ass that eats all promiscuously, and without distinction, to satisfy his Appetite and support Nature. To what purpose is it, that these Gentlemen ransack all Parts both of Earth and Sea to procure these Triffles? It is only that they may give their Names to some yet unchristen’d Shell or Insect. I know that the desire of knowledge, and the discovery of things yet unknown is the Pretence; But what Knowledge is it? What Discoveries do we owe to their Labours? It is only the Discovery of some few unheeded Varieties of Plants, Shells, 103or Insects, unheeded only because useless; and the Knowledge, they boast so much of, is no more than a Register of their Names, and Marks of Distinction only. It is enough for them to know that a Silk Worm is a sort of Caterpiller, that when it is come to maturity Weaves a Web, is metamorphos’d to a Moth-Flye, lays Eggs, and so Dies. They leave all further enquiry to the Unlearned and Mechanicks, whose business only they think it to prosecute matters of Gain and Profit. Let him contrive, if he can, to make this Silk serviceable to Mankind; their Speculations have another Scope, which is the founding some wild, uncertain, conjectural Hypothesis, which may be true or false; yet Mankind neither Gainers nor Losers either way a little in point of Wisdom or Convenience. These Men are just the reverse of a Rattle Snake, and carry in their Heads, what he does in his Tail, and move Laughter rather than Regard. What improvements of Physick, or any useful Arts, 104what noble Remedies, what serviceable Instruments have these Mushrome, and Cockle shell Hunters oblig’d the World with? For I am ready to recant if they can shew so good a Med’cine as Stew’d Prunes, or so necessary an Instrument as a Flye Flap of their own Invention and Discovery. Yet these are the Men of exalted Understandings, the Men of elevated Capacities, and sublime Speculations, that Dignifie and Distinguish themselves from the rest of the World by Specious Names, and Pompous Titles, and continue notwithstanding as very Reptiles in Sense, as those they converse so much with.

I wou’d not have any Body mistake me so far, as to think I wou’d in the least reflect upon any sincere, and intelligent Enquirer into Nature, of which I as heartily with a better knowledge, as any Vertuoso of ’em all. You can be my Witness, Madam, that I us’d to say, I thought Mr. Boyle more honourable for his learned Labours, than for his Noble 105Birth; and that the Royal Society, by their great and celebrated Performances, were an Illustrious Argument of the Wisdom of the August Prince, their Founder of happy Memory; and that they highly merited the Esteem, Respect and Honour paid ’em by the Lovers of Learning all Europe over. But tho’ I have a very great Veneration for the Society in general, I can’t but put a vast difference between the particular Members that compose it. Were Supererogation a Doctrine in Fashion, ’tis probable some of ’em might borrow of their Fellows merit enough to justifie their Arrogance, but alas they are come an Age too late for that trick; They are fallen into a Faithless, Incredulous Generation of Men that will give credit no farther than the visible Stock will extend: And tho’ a Vertuoso should swell a Title-Page even till it burst with large Promises, and sonorous Titles, the World is so ill natur’d as not to think a whit the better of a Book for it. ’Tis an ill time to trade with implicite 106Faith, when so many have so lately been broken by an overstock of that Commodity; no sooner now a days can a Man write, or steal an Hypothesis, and promise Demonstration for it hereafter in this or the next World; but out comes some malicious Answer or other, with Reasons in hand against it, overthrows the credit of it, and puts the poor Author into Fits. For though a great Philosopher that has written a Book of three Shillings may reasonably insult, and despise a six penny Answer, yet the Indignity of so low pric’d a Refutation wou’d make a Stoick fret, and Frisk like a Cow with a Breeze in her Tail, or a Man bitten by a Tarantula. Men measure themselves by their Vanity, and are greater or less in their own Opinions, according to the proportion they have of it; if they be well stock’d with it, it may be easie to confute, but impossible to convince ’em. He therefore that wou’d set up for a great Man, ought first to be plentifully provided of it, and then a Score of Cockle Shells, 107a dozen of Hodmandods, or any Trifle else is a sufficient Foundation to build a Reputation upon. But if a Man shall abdicate his lawful Calling in pure affection to these things, and has for some years spent all the Time and Money he was Master of in prosecution of this Passion, and shall after all hear his Caterpillars affronted, and his Butter-flies irreverently spoken of, it must be more provoking to him, than ’tis to a Lion to be pull’d by the Beard. And if, when to crown all his Labours, he has discover’d a Water so near a kin to the famous one, that cou’d be kept in nothing but the hoof of an Ass, that it was never found but in the Scull of the same Animal; a Water that makes no more of melting a World, than a Dutchman does of a Ferkin of Butter; and when he has written a Book of Discoveries, and Wonders thereupon, if (I say) the Impertinent Scriblers of the Age, will still be demanding Proofs and writing Answers, he has reason to throw down his Pen in a rage, and 108pronounce the world, that cou’d give him such an interruption, unworthy to be blest with his future labours, and breath eternal Defiance to it, as irreconcilable, as the quarrel of the Sons of Oedipus. To which prudent Resolution, let us leave him till he can recover his Temper.

These Instances, Madam, will (I hope) suffice to shew that Men are themselves altogether as impertinent, as they maliciously misrepresent us. It is not for want of plenty of others that I content my self with these; but I am not willing to trouble you with any of an inferiour Character. These are all impertinents of Mark and Note, and have severally the good fortune to find crowds of Fools of their own Sex to applaud and admire them. Impertinence is a failing, that has its Root in Nature; but is not worth Laughing at, till it has receiv’d the finishing strokes of Art. A Man through natural defects may do abundance of incoherent, foolish 109Actions, yet deserve Compassion and Advice rather than Derision. But to see Men spending their Fortunes, as well as Lives, in a course of Regular Folly, and with an industrious, as well as expensive Idleness running through tedious Systems of impertinence, wou’d have split the sides of Heraclitus, had it been his fortune to have been a Spectator. ’Tis very easie to decide which of these Impertinents is the most signal; the Vertuoso is manifestly without a Competitour. For our Follies are not to be measur’d by the degree of Ignorance, that appears in ’em, but by the Study, Labour and Expence they cost us to finish and compleat ’em. So that the more Regularity and Artifice there appears in any of our Extravagancies, the greater is the folly of ’em. Upon this Score it is, that the last mention’d deservedly claim the preference to all others; they have improv’d so well their Amusements into an Art, that the Credulous and Ignorant are induc’d to believe there is some secret Vertue, 110some hidden Mystery in those darling toys of theirs; when all their Bustling amounts to no more than a learned Impertinence, (for so they abuse the Term) and all they teach Men is, but a specious expensive method of throwing away both Time and Money.

I intend not in what remains to trouble you with any more such instances; because I am sensible these have already swell’d this Letter to a Volumn, which was not at first my intent. I shall therefore dispatch the remaining part of the charge in; as few Words as possible. |Dissimulation became necessary.| Amongst the rest Dissimulation is none of the least Blemishes, which they endeavour to fix upon us. This Quality, though it can’t upon any occasion deserve the name of a Vertue, yet according to the present Constitution of the World, is many times absolutely necessary, and is a main ingredient in the Composition of Human Prudence. It is indeed oftentimes criminal, but it is only accidentally so, as Industry, 111Wit, and most other good Qualities may be, according, to the Ends and Purposes to which they are misemploy’d. Dissimulation is nothing but the hiding or disguising our secret thoughts, or Inclinations under another appearance. I shall not endeavour to absolve our Sex wholly from all use of this Quality, or Art (call it which you please) because I think it may upon many occasions be used with Innocence enough, and upon some can’t without great Imprudence be omitted. The World is too full of Craft, Malice, and Violence, for absolute Simplicity to live in it. It behoves therefore our Sex as well as the other to live with so much Caution, and Circumspection in regard to their own Security, that their Thoughts and Inclinations may not be seen so naked, as to expose ’em to the Snares, designs, and practices of Crafty Knaves, who wou’d make a property of ’em; or lay ’em open to the wicked Efforts, and mischievous Impressions of Envy, or Malice, whose pleasure springs from the hurt 112of others. Nothing gives our Adversaries so great an advantage over us, as the knowledge of our Opinions, and Affections, with something agreable to which they will be sure to bate all their Traps and Devices. For this reason it is that it has been Proverbially said of Old, that, He that knows not how to dissemble, knows not how to live. The Experience of all Ages since has confirm’d this Observation, and ours no less than any of the Preceding. This premis’d, I suppose no Wise Man will blame our Sex for the use of an Art so necessary, to preserve ’em from becoming a Prey to every designing Man, an Art of which himself must make great use to deserve that Title. Yet I am afraid, that upon enquiry our Sex will not be found to have so much of it as is requisite, at least not generally; Our sedentary Life, and the narrow Limits to which our Acquaintance, and Business are Circumscrib’d, afford us so little Variety, so regular a Face of things, that we want the means of obtaining 113the Mastery of so useful an Art, which no question but we shou’d as soon acquire as Men, had we but equal Opportunities. Hence it is that Women are more apt to show their Resentments upon all Provocations than Men; and are thought naturally more Peevish and Captious, by those that apprehend not the true reason; Whereas Men are altogether as Stomachful, and take Offence as soon, but they cover and suppress their Indignation better, not with a design to forget any Injury receiv’d, but to wreak their Revenge more covertly and effectually. This is another advantage Men derive from liberty of Conversation and promiscuous Business, wherein the Variety of Contingencies they have to provide against, and the Diversity of Tempers they deal with, force ’em to turn and wind themselves into all Shapes, and accommodate themselves to all Humours. There is indeed yet a higher sort of Dissimulation, |Dissimulation when criminal.| which is always Criminal, that is when Men not only cloud their real Sentiments and Intentions, 114but make Profession of and seem zealously to affect the contrary; this by a more proper and restrain’d Name is call’d Deceipt, and is always us’d in an ill Sense. This Art is most practic’d in Courts where Policie, and Ambition reign; there You may see Enemies hugging and caressing one another with all outward Expressions of Tenderness and Friendship imaginabe, while they are secretly contriving each others ruine. There you may see Men cringing to those, they wou’d Spurn if they durst, and Flattering those they despise and rail at behind; their Backs, The Court is a place where we come very rarely otherwise than as Spectators, not as Actours; as Ornaments, not as Instruments; and therefore are seldom involv’d in the guilty Practices of it. Nor is it the Court only, but all Places are infected with this Vice, where there is any Encouragement of Profit or Pleasure to be hop’d from successful Treachery, of which no Place is so barren as not to afford some. This Deceipt is so far from 115being the Vice of our Sex, that they are the common Object on which it is daily practic’d: Nothing is more frequently met with than false Love in Men, |False Love commonly practic’d.| which is now grown so familiar, that a Company of Six of both Sexes can scarce meet, but a Sham Passion commences immediately, is urg’d, protested, and sworn to be real with all imaginable Violence. If these false Arts, mock sighing, and Dying prevail upon any foolish, easie, credulous Woman, the Sham Lover is blown up with the Success, he is big and in Labour till he be deliver’d of the Secret, which with great satisfaction he proclaims in all Places where he comes: ’tis his highest Exploit of Gallantry, which he will by no means lose the credit of. Thus he thinks her ruine a step to Reputation, and founds his own Honour upon her Infamy. This Madam is the basest of Treachery; for they are not satisfied with the Success of their false Promises, and Oaths, but they insult over the weakness of a too fond Woman, and Triumph 116in her Dishonour. I am sorry there are any Women so foolish and forward, as to give hopes and encouragement to such ungenerous Fellows; yet we may be assur’d that they are not a quarter so many as those vain Boasters wou’d make ’em. Much more be said on this head, but that I think it high time to pass on to the next, which is Enviousness, so foul a Blot to a fair Character, that no Merit can wash it out, or atone sufficiently for it.

Envy is the Parent of Calumny, and the Daughter of Jealousie. Men seldom envy others, |Enviousness| till they fear being out strip’d by ’em in Fortune or Reputation. It is the most criminal, because the most injurious to Vertue, and worth of all our natural Failings, against which it’s Malice is generally bent. This vice and Jealousie seem to be more particularly hated of Providence than any other; For they carry their Punishment inseparably along with ’em, The Envious and the Jealous 117need no other Tormentours than their own Thoughts. The Envious Man ruines his own to disturb anothers Tranquillity, and sacrifices his own Happiness and Repose to a perverse Desire of troubling his Neighbours. He feeds like Toads upon the Venome of the Earth, and sucks in Scandal greedily, that he may at Pleasure disgorge it to the greater annoyance of other Men. His mind has the Vapours, a Sweet Report of any one throws it into Convulsions, and Agonies, and a foul one is the Releif and Refreshment of it. A wholesome Air free from the Blasts of Detraction and Slander is as certainly pernicious to him, as Ireland to Frogs and Toads. This Vice is generally disclaim’d by both Sexes, yet generally practic’d by both. Men love as little to have their Reputation as their Chimneys over-topt by their Neighbours; For they think by that means their names become dark, as their Houses do smoaky by the other: Yet thro’ a lazy Malignity had rather pull the other’s down to their Level, than build 118their own up higher. This Humour prevails indeed, yet not in equal Measure in both Sexes. For as we have confessedly less Ambition, so have we apparently less of this Poison which usually attends it, and arises from a self Interested Principle, which makes ’em endeavour by base sinister means to level that Merit which they think stands in their way to Preferment, and which they despair of being able to surmount by honourable attempts. For what need any one use base Sleights to stop the Man, whom by fair Speed he thought he cou’d overtake. No sooner is any Man rais’d to any Eminence in the World, but half the Sex at least join in Confederacy to raise a Battery of Scandal against him, to bring him down again. Honour is the Pillory of great Desert, whither a Man is no sooner rais’d, but the vile Rascally inferiour Croud gather immediately together, to throw Dirt at him, and make that which was intended as a Grace, and Reward, but a more honourable Punishment. Our Sex seldom arrive 119to this Pitch of Envy, our Ambition is more bounded, and our Desires sooner satisfied. Hence it is that we are less troubl’d at the Prosperity of others; for not giving our selves the Liberty of aiming at things far out of our Power, they are the sooner compass’d, and we the sooner at Ease. He, that thinks himself Happy, is incapable of Envying another’s Felicity, since he sees him possess’d of nothing which either he has not or despises not. Yet it must be confess’d that the lesser Piques, and Grudgings are daily to be met with among us, but no less among Men. What is it that spawns daily such Fryes of Satyrists without Wit, and Criticks without Judgment, but this humour of carping, and nibbling at the Reputation of others? But they are generally abundantly furnisht with Impudence, a good Quality that commonly supplies largely the want of all other.

Character of a City Critick

A Critick of this sort is one that for want of Wit sets up for Judgment; yet he has so much Ambition 120to be thought a Wit, that he lets his Spleen prevail against Nature, and turns Poet. In this Capacity he is as just to the World as in the other Injurious. For as the Critick wrong’d ev’ry Body in his Censure, and snarl’d, and grin’d at their Writings, the Poet gives ’em Opportunity to do themselves Justice, to return the Compliment and laugh at or despise his. He wants nothing but Wit to fit him for a Satyrist, yet he has Gall and Vanity enough to dispence with that Want, and write without it. His works are Libells upon others, but Satyrs upon himself, and while they Bark at Men of Wit, call him Fool that writ ’em. He takes his Malice for a Muse, and thinks himself inspir’d when he is only Possess’d, and blown up with a Flatus of Envy and Vanity. His great helps to Poetry are Crambo, and Arithmetick, by which he aspires to Chime, and Numbers, yet mistakes frequently in the tale of his Fingers. He has a very great Antipathy to his own Species, and hates to see a Fool any where but in his Glass. 121For (as he says) they Provoke him And offend his Eyes: |7th. Satyre of Boileau Eng.| He Follows ’em as a Dog persues his Prey, and barks whenere He smells ’em in his way: He knows, to say no more that Wit is scarce, to gingle out a Rhime, or tag a Verse: Or Cobble wretched Prose to numerous Lines: There if he has a Genius there it shines. His Fund of Criticism is a Set of Terms of Art pickt out of the French Criticks, or their Translators; and his Poetical stock is a Common Place of certain Forms and Manners of Expression. He writes better in Verse than Prose; For in that there is Rhime, in this neither Rhime not Reason. He talks much of the Naivete of his Thoughts, which appears sufficiently in the Dullness of ’em; yet nothing but the Phlegmatick, Spiritless Air is his own. He rails at Mr. Oldham for want of Breeding and good Manners without a grain of either, and steals his own Wit to bespatter him with, but like an ill Chymist, he lets the Spirit flie of in the drawing over, and retains only the Phlegm. He censures Mr. Cowley for too 122much Wit, and corrects him with none. The difference between Mr. Cowley and him is this; the one has too much Wit, and too fine for the Standard; the other not enough to blanch his base Metal, or cover the Brass of his Counterfeits. To compleat himself in the Formalities of Parnassus, he falls in love and tells the World, it is oblig’d to his Passion for his Poetry; but if his Mistress prove no more indulgent than his Muse, his Amour is like to conclude but unluckily. For if his Love be no warmer than his Lines, his Corinna may play with his Flame without danger of Burning. He pretends to have written only his sincerest Thoughts; I don’t know how well his Mistress may take that from the Lover, but I dare swear the World did not expect it from the Poet. He is happiest at the Picture of a Rhiming Fool, for he need only to look in his Glass, and he may Copy a Country Wit from the City Original. If this Rhiming Humour lasts, there’s a good Sugar-Jobber spoil’d for an ill Poet; yet for his comfort, Time, Improvement, and two 123or three Books more may raise him to Rival E— S— and sing London’s Triumphs, to the Envy of Tom Jordan of happy Memory.

You may wonder, Madam, why I shou’d give you the trouble of this Character, after I had given you my word to trouble you with no more of this Nature. I must confess, I am sorry that so foolish an Occasion cou’d make me forget my self; but a Book newly publish’d happening just at this Juncture unluckily to fall into my Hands, I cou’d not without Indignation see the Scurrility and Insolence, with which Mr. Oldham, and Mr. Cowley are treated; and cou’d not but resent a little the Wrongs done to the Memory of Men whom the rest of the World with Justice admire; and cou’d not help taking Notice upon so fair an Opportunity, that they are not, tho’ dead, to be so rudely plaid with, and made the May-Game of e’ry Splenetick Boy. There are some yet living, whose Wit and Performances deserve a more respectful treatment, than they have met with from him. But they are able 124to revenge their own Quarrel, if they think he deserves the honour to be Scourg’d by ’em. Nothing but Envy and a Vain Conceit of himself cou’d move him to attack the Reputation of Men, whose Verse will alwayes command Admiration, while his own raise nothing but Scorn and Indignation. If his Bookseller were but blest with half a dozen such Authors, he wou’d in a short time infallibly be Stationer general to all the Grocers and Tobacconists in the Town.

After this Digression, Madam, let us return to our Subject. We stand yet charg’d with Levity, and Inconstancy, two Failings so nearly related and so generally United, that it his hard to treat of ’em apart; |Levity.| we will therefore consider ’em briefly together. Levity is an unsteddy Humor that makes men like and dislike, seek, and reject frequently the same things upon slender or no Reasons. This is the Humour of the Infancy of both Sexes, and proceeds from the strength of their Appetites, and the weakness 125of their Judgments. At these tender Years every thing we see moves our Curiosities, and because we think little beyond our Appetites, desire impatiently whatever pleases. This wears of in Proportion to the growth of our Judgments, when we begin to consider the Fatigue, Hazard, Disreputation, and other Inconveniences that attend unreasonable, or inordinate Desires. Herein our Sex have a manifest Advantage over the other; For it is confess’d on all hands that our Judgments ripen sooner than theirs, |Less Levity among Women then Men.| whence of course it Follows, that this Folly prevails not so long upon us, as them. ’Tis yet true, that even the most experienc’d and wisest of Us have no small mixture of it, which appears in the greatest Part of our Actions. But it is certain likewise, that Men have a greater proportion of it than we. From this it is that Novelty derives all its Charms, and that Men persue with so much Eagerness and Impatience what they so soon slight if obtain’d. I appeal to the Experience 126of all mankind, if they do not generally frame to themselves much greater Idea’s of any thing they desire, and are unacquainted with, than they find real, when they become Familiar to ’em; and if they did not imagine greater Pleasures, while they were in persuit, than they met with after they were in Possession of their Wishes. The Imagery of Fancy is, like some Paintings, ravishing, and surprizing at a due distance, but approach ’em near, and all the Charms and Beauty vanish, and they appear rough and unpleasant. Hence it is that Men grow uneasie, and their desires pall so soon upon the full enjoyment of their Wishes; they see then the imperfections as well as Beauties of what they covered, which glitter’d so far of, and like the Moon appear’d all Lustre and Smoothness, but when arriv’d at, all dark and uneven. These Fallacies Men are more submitted to than we, by those very Priviledges which give ’em in some things the advantage over us. The variety of Business, 127and Society they run through, the large acquaintance they contract, give ’em encouragement to aspire to, and hopes to obtain many difficult things, which our Sex seldom lift their Thoughts up to. I know this aspiring Humour of theirs is generally call’d Ambition, and I allow the Term to be proper; but their Ambition works upon their Levity, which only can make them Barter certain Ease, Peace and Security, for uncertain Pomp and Splendour; and forsake a Condition they know to be good, for one they know no more of, than that it Shines, and that it Glitters, and so part with the true Jewel for the false one. These are the seririous and applauded Follies of Mankind, and shew the Weakness and Levity of those we call the greatest, and wisest Men, that sacrifice the Ease and Pleasure of their lives to Popular Breath, and sounding Titles, which is like bartring a small Diamond for a large Glass Bubble.

Inconstancy

128Inconstancy is so like Levity that little more needs to be said of it, only that it is commonly restrain’d to the change of Affections in regard to Persons, and so is cheifly concern’d in Love and Freindship. It is founded upon Levity, thro’ which we first make an injudicious Choice, and are afterwards as unreasonably disgusted with it. This happens oftner in Love, than Friendship; because the Impressions of Love are more suddenly receiv’d, and the Effects of it more violent, than those of Friendship; and the Desires, which are commonly kindled by one single Perfection, such as Beauty or Wit, not being suddenly answered, are in Process of time extinguish’d, or abated by observation of some disgustful Imperfection or other in the Person belov’d. This is indeed the true Reason, |Love, why so soon cold.| why Love, which is generally so hot at first, cools commonly so suddenly; because being generally the Issue of Fancy, not judgment, it is grounded upon an over great Opinion of those Perfections, which first strike us, and 129which fall in our Esteem upon more mature Examination. From whence it is likewise that Men are less constant in their Affections, than we; for Beauty only being generally the Object of their Passion, the Effect must necessarily be as fadeing as the Cause; their Love therefore being only the result of wonder and Surprize, is abated by Familiarity, and decays, as they wear of, by Degrees. Beside, that, a Love so Founded is liable to be ravish’d by any Superiour Beauty; or if not so, yet the Novelty of the Former once worn of, the New Comer has the assistance of Fancy the Slave of Novelty to gain the Superiority. This is the Cause why so few real and lasting Passions are found amongst Men. For Charms depending upon, and owing their Power to Fancy, can maintain no Conquests any longer, than that is on their side, which is as inconstant as the Wind. |Women constanter Lovers.| In this also we are less faulty, than they; For, not usually fixing our Affection on so mutable a Thing as the Beauty of a Face, which a thousand 130accidents may destroy, but on Wit, Good Humour, and other Graces of the Mind, as well as of the Body, our Love is more durable, and constant in proportion to the longer continuance of those Qualities in the Object. Neither indeed have we the means, or temptation to be Fickle and inconstant so ready as Men have; For Modesty, and the Rules of Decency observ’d among Us, not permitting to us the Liberty of declaring our sentiments to those we love, as Men may, we dare not indulge a wanton Fancy, or rambling Inclination, which must be stiffled in our own Breasts, and cou’d only give us a hopeless Anxiety, unless we were able to inspire the same Passion for us in them; which it were vain to expect, without breaking thro’ all restraint of Modesty and Decorum at the price of our Fame and Reputation, which I hope few are so daring as to venture. Besides this our Tempers are by Nature calm, sedate, and tender, not apt to be ruffl’d, and disturb’d by Passions, and too fearful to enterprize 131any thing in satisfaction of ’em; theirs on the contrary, bold, active, and uneven, easily susceptible of all manner of Desires, and readily executing any Designs to gratifie ’em. Thus are we debarred the liberty of chusing for our selves, and confin’d to please our selves out of the number that like and address to us, of which if we fix our Affections upon any one, we are generally fixt and unmoveable, as having neither the Inclination to, nor opportunity of Inconstancy, that the Men have. I don’t deny but that there may be some among us guilty of this Fault, but they are vastly short of the Number of Men involv’d in the like Guilt, amongst whom it is now grown so fashionable, that is become no Scandal; but is daily justified, and the Treachery boasted of as high Gallantry. The Crimes therefore of some few Women ought, to be no reproach to the Sex in general. Of Infidelity in Friendship I shall say little, because I think there are so few Instances of any thing that deserve the Name, 132that scarce any Age has been so fruitful as to produce two Pair of real and true Friends. |Freindship.| I know that the Name is commonly given to such as are linkt by any Ties of Consanguinity, Affinity, Interest, mutual Obligations, Acquaintance, and the like: But these are such Friendships (if they may be call’d so) as are always contracted with a tacit Reserve to Interest on both sides, and seldom last longer than the Prosperity of either Party, and during that are frequently renounc’d upon slight Disobligations, or languish and die of themselves. Yet if I may presume to give my Opinion in a Case, where matter of Fact does not appear, I think we shou’d be the more Faithful even in this too: For as we are less concern’d in the Affairs of the World, so we have less Temptation from Interest to be false to our Friends. |Women truer Friends than Men.| Neither are we so likely to be false thro’ Fear; because our Sex are seldom engag’d in matters of any Danger. For these Reasons it is, our Sex are generally more hearty and sincere in the 133ordinary Friendships they make than Men, among whom they are usually clogg’d with so many Considerations of Interest, and Punctilio’s of Honour; to which last perhaps are owing the greatest part of those honourable Actions, which are mistakenly imputed to Friendship. For something done to salve Honour, commonly puts a Period to all Friendship, with unfortunate Persons; whom Men think they may afterward grow cold to without Reproach.

These are the most considerable Imperfections, or at least those, which with most Colour of Reason are charg’d upon us, as general Defects; and I hope, Madam, I have fairly shown, that the other Sex are both by Interest and Inclination more expos’d, and more Subject to ’em, than we. Pride, Lust, Cruelty, and many more, are by the Declaimers against us thrown into the Scale to make weight and bear us down, but with such manifest Injustice, that without giving my 134self any further trouble, I dare appeal to any reasonable Man, and leave him to decide the Difference. |More ill Men than Women.| I know there was a Tullia, a Claudia, and a Messalina; there was likewise, a Sardanapalus, a Nero, a Caligula; but if the Sexes in general are to be reproach’d with, and measur’d by these; Human Race is certainly the vilest Part of the Creation. ’Tis very ill Logick to argue from Particulars to Generals, and where the Premisses are singular, to conclude Universally: But if they will allow us the Liberty they take themselves, and come to numbering the Vicious of both Sexes, they will certainly out poll us by infinite Numbers. It were therefore better Policy surely in them, to quit a way of arguing, which is at once so false, and so much to the disadvantage of the Cause they contend for: and when they can by sound Arguments make out any Advantages their Sex has over ours, other than what I have already granted, I am ready to be convinc’d, and become their Convert; and I make 135no doubt but every ingenuous Man will do as much by me. Thus I have endeavour’d to vindicate our Sex, from the unjust Imputations with which some unreasonable, malicious Men wou’d load us: For I am willing to think the greater, or at least the better Part of their Sex, more generous than to encourage their Scandal. There remains nothing more, but to shew that there are some necessary Qualifications to be acquir’d, some good Improvements to be made by Ingenious Gentlemen in the Company of our Sex.

Many Advantages from Womens Company.

Of this number are Complacence, Gallantry, Good Humour, Invention, and an Art, which (tho’ frequently abus’d) is of admirable use to those that are Masters of it, the Art of Insinuation, and many others. ’Tis true a Man may be an Honest and Understanding Man, without any of these Qualifications; but he can hardly be a Polite, a Well Bred, an Agreable, Taking Man, without all, or most of these. 136Without ’em Honesty, Courage, or Wit, are like Rough Diamonds, or Gold in the Ore, they have their intrinsick Value, and Worth, before, but they are doubtful and obscure, till they are polish’d, refin’d, and receive Lustre, and Esteem from these.

Complacence to be learn’d by it.

The Principal of these is Complacence, a good Quality, without which in a competent Measure no Man is fitted for Society. This is best learnt in our Company, where all Men affect Gaiety, and endeavour to be agreable. State News, Politicks, Religion, or private Business take up the greatest Part of their Conversation, when they are among themselves only. These are Subjects that employ their Passions too much, to leave any room for Complacence; they raise too much heat to suffer Men to be easie and pleasant, and Men are too serious when they talk of ’em, to suppress their natural Temper, which are apt to break out upon any Opposition. Men are as apt to defend 137their Opinions, as their Property, and wou’d take it as well to have their Titles to their Estates question’d, as their Sense; and perhaps in that they imitate the Conduct of our Sex, and do, like indulgent Mothers, that are most tender of those Children that are weakest. But however it be, I have observ’d, when such Arguments have been introduc’d even in our Company, and by Men that affect Indifference, and abundance of Temper, that very few have been able to shew so much Mastery, but that something appear’d either in their Air, or Expression, or in the Tone of their Voices, which argued a greater Warmth, and Concern, than is proper for the Conversation of Gentlemen, or the Company of Ladies. These Uneasinesses happen not so often among us, because the Men look upon us to have very little Interest in the Publick Affairs of the World, and therefore trouble us very seldom with their grave, serious Trifles, which they debate with so much earnestness among one 138another. They look upon us as Things design’d and contriv’d only for their Pleasure, and therefore use us tenderly, as Children do their Favourite Bawbles. They talk gayly, and pleasantly to us, they do, or say nothing that may give as any Disgust, or Chagrin, they put on their chearfullest Looks, and their best Humour, that they may excite the like in us: They never oppose us but with a great deal of Ceremony, or in Raillery, not out of a Spirit of Opposition, (as they frequently do one another) but to maintain a pleasant Argument, or heigthen by variety of Opinions an agreable Entertainment. Mirth, and Good Humour reign generally in our Society, Good Manners always; For with us Men shew in a manner, the Reverse of what they are one to another: They let their thoughts play at Liberty, and are very careful of the Expression, that nothing harsh, or obscene escape ’em, that may shock a tender Mind, or offend a modest Ear. This Caution it is, 139which is the Root of Complacence, which is nothing but a Desire to oblige People, by complying with their Humours. ’Tis true some Tempers are too Obstinate, and froward, ever to arrive at any great Heigth of this good Quality, yet there is nothing so stubborn, but it may be bent. Assiduity and constant Practice will contract such Habits, as will make any thing easie and familiar, even to the worst contriv’d Disposition; but where Nature concurs, Men are soon Perfect. This is one great advantage Men reap by our Society, nor is it to be despis’d by the Wisest of ’em, who know the use of this Accomplishment, and are sensible, that it is hardly, if at all, to be acquir’d, but by conversing with us. For tho’ Men may have Wit and Judgment, yet the Liberty they take of thwarting, and opposing one another makes ’em Eager, and Disputative, Impatient, Sowre, and Morose; till by conversing with us, they grow insensibly asham’d of such Rustick Freedom. The truth of this 140is Evident from the Observation of the Universities, and Inns of Court, I mean those Students in ’em that lead a more recluse and Monastick Life, and converse little with our Sex. They want neither Wit, nor Learning, and frequently neither Generosity, nor Good Nature, yet when they come into gay, tho’ Ingenious Company, are either damp’d and silent, or unseasonably Frolicksom and Free, so that they appear either Dull, or Ridiculous.

Gallantry acquir’d by our Company.

Nor is Complacence the only thing these Men want, they want likewise the Gallantry of those Men that frequent our Company. This Quality is the heigth and perfection of Civility, without which it is either Languishing, or Formal, and with which it appears always with an engaging Air of Kindness, and Good Will. It sets a value upon the most inconsiderable Trifles, and turns every Civility into an Obligation. For in ordinary Familiarities, and civil Correspondencies, we regard not so much what, as 141how things are done, the Manner is more lookt upon than the Matter of such Courtesies. Almost all Men that have had a liberal, and good Education know, what is due to Good Manners, and civil Company. But till they have been us’d a little to Our Society, their Modesty fits like Constraint upon ’em, and looks like a forc’d Compliance to uneasie Rules, and Forms of Civility. Conversing frequently with us makes ’em familiar to Men, and when they are convinc’d, as well of the Easiness, as the Necessity of ’em, they are soon reconcil’d to the Practice. This Point once gain’d, and they become expert in the common, and necessary Practices. Those that have any natural Bravery of Mind, will never be contented to stop there; Indifference is too cold and Phlegmatick a thing for ’em, a little Formal Ceremony, and common Civilities, such as are paid to e’ry one of Course, will not satisfie their Ambitious Spirits, which will put ’em upon endeavouring for better Receptions, and obliging those, 142whom they can’t without Reproach to themselves offend. This is the Original, and first Spring of Gallantry, which is an Humour of Obliging all People, as well in our Actions as Words. It differs from Complacence, |Difference betwixt Complacence and Gallantry.| this being more active, that more passive; This inclines us to oblige, by doing or saying after our own Humours such things as we think will please; that by submitting to, and following theirs. A Man may be Complacent without Gallantry, but he can’t be Gallant without Complacence. For ’tis possible to please and be agreable, without shewing our own Humours to Others; but ’tis impossible without some regard to theirs: yet this Pleasure will be but faint and languid, without a Mixture of both. This mixture of Freedom, Observance, and a desire of pleasing, when rightly tempered, is the true Composition of Gallantry; of which, who ever is compleat Master, can never fail of being both admir’d, and belov’d. This Accomplishment is best, if not only to be acquir’d by 143conversing with us; for besides the natural Deference, which the Males of every observable Species of the creation pay to their Females, and the Reasons before given for Complacence, which all hold good here, there is a tender Softness in the Frame of our Minds, as well as in the Constitution of our Bodies, which inspires Men, a Sex more rugged, with the like Sentiments, and Affections, and infuses gently and insensibly a Care to oblige, and a Concern not to offend us.

Invention, improv’d by our Society.

Hence it is that they employ all their Art, Wit, and Invention to say and do things, that may appear to us, surprizing and agreable either for their Novelty or Contrivance. The very End and Nature of Conversation among us retrench aboundance of those things, which make the greatest part of Men’s discourse, and they find themselves oblig’d to strain their Inventions to fetch from other Springs, Streams proper to entertain us with. This puts ’em upon beating and ranging ore 144the Fields of Fancy to find something new, something pretty to offer to us, and by this means refines at the same time their Wit, and enlarges, and extends their Invention; For by forcing ’em out of the common Road, they are necessitated to invent new Arguments, and seek new ways to divert and please us, and by restraining the large Liberty they take one with another, they are compell’d to polish their Wit, and File off the Roughness of it. To this they owe, the Neatness of Raillery, to which abundance of Gentlemen are now arriv’d; For Contrariety, of Opinions, being that which gives Life, and Spirit to Conversation, as well Women as Men do frequently hold Arguments contrary to their real Opinions, only to heigthen the Diversion, and improve the pleasure of Society. In these the utmost Care is taken to avoid all things that may sound harsh, offensive, or indecent, their Wit is employ’d only to raise mirth, and promote good Humour, Conditions that can’t well be observ’d, when 145Men contend for Realities, |Fools no fit Companions for Women.| and dispute for the Reputation of their Wit or Judgment, and the truth of their Opinions. ’Tis true these Improvements are to be made only by Men, that have by Nature an improvable Stock of Wit and good Sense; For those that have it not, being unable to distinguish what is proper for their Imitation, are apt to Ape us in those Things which are the peculiar Graces and Ornaments of our Sex, and which are the immediate Objects of Sight, and need no further Reflection, or thinking. This Affectation is notorious in our Modern Beau’s, who observing the Care taken by some of our Sex in the setting of their Persons, without penetrating any farther into the Reasons Women have for it, or considering, that what became them, might be ridiculous in themselves, fall to licking, sprucing, and dressing their Campaign Faces, and ill contriv’d Bodies, that now, like all Foolish Imitatours, they out do the Originals, and out-powder, out-patch, and out-paint the Vainest 146and most extravagant of our Sex at those Follies, and are perpetually Cocking, Brustling, Twiring, and making Grimaces, as if they expected we shou’d make Addresses to ’em in a short Time. Yet ought not this to discourage any Ingenious Person, or bring any Scandal upon our Conversation, any more than Travelling ought to be brought into Disrepute, because it is observ’d, that those, who go abroad Fools, return Fops. It is not in our power to alter Nature, but to polish it, and if an Ass has learnt all his Paces, ’tis as much as the thing is capable of, ’twere absurd to expect he shou’d chop Logick. This is so far from being an Objection against us, that it is an Argument, that none but Ingenious Men are duely qualified to converse with us; Who by our Means have not only been fitted, and finish’d for great things, but have actually aspir’d to ’em. For ’tis my Opinion, that we owe the Neat, Gentile Raillery in Sir George Etheredge, and Sir Charles Sedley’s Plays, and the Gallant 147Verses of Mr. Waller to their Conversing much with Ladies. And I remember an Opinion of a very Ingenious Person, who ascribes the Ruine of the Spanish Grandeur in great measure, to the ridiculing in the Person of Don Quixot, the Gallantry of that Nation toward their Ladies. This Opinion however Ingenious carries me beyond the Scope and design of the present Argument, and therefore I shall leave all further Consideration of it to those that are more at leisure, and less weary than I am at present.

There remain yet some things to be spoken to, but I must confess to you, Madam, that I am already very much tired, and I have reason to fear that you are more. When you enjoyn’d me this Task, I believe, you did not expect, I am sure, I did not intend so long a Letter. I know I have written too much, yet I leave you to judge, whether it be enough. One Experience I have gain’d by this Essay, that I find, when our Hands are in, ’tis as 148hard to stop ’em, as our Tongues, and as difficult not to write, as not to talk too much. I have done wondring at those Men, that can write huge Volumes upon slender Subjects, and shall hereafter admire their Judgment only, who can confine their Imaginations, and curb their wandring Fancies. I pretend no Obligation upon our Sex for this Attempt in their Defence; because it was undertaken at your Command, and for your Diversion only, which if I have in any measure satisfied, I have my Ambition, and shall beg nothing farther, than that my ready Obedience may excuse the mean Performance of

Madam,

Your real Friend, and

Most humble Servant.

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