on the IMPORTANCE of RELIGION to the FEMALE CHARACTER.

Various are the reaſons why the greater part of mankind cannot apply themſelves to arts or letters. Particular ſtudies are only ſuited to the capacities of particular perſons. Some are incapable of applying to them from the delicacy of their ſex, ſome from the unſteadineſs of youth, and others from the imbecillity of age. Many are precluded by the narrowneſs of their education, and many by the ſtraitneſs of their fortune. The wiſdom of God is wonderfully manifeſted in this happy and well-ordered diverſity, in the powers and properties of his creatures; ſince by thus admirably ſuiting the agent to the action, the whole ſcheme of human affairs is carried on with the moſt agreeing and conſiſtent [oe]conomy, and no chaſm is left for want of an object to fill it, exactly ſuited to its nature.

But in the great and univerſal concern of religion, both ſexes, and all ranks, are equally intereſted. The truly catholic ſpirit of chriſtianity accommodates itſelf, with an aſtoniſhing condeſcenſion, to the circumſtances of the whole human race. It rejects none on account of their pecuniary wants, their perſonal infirmities, or their intellectual deficiencies. No ſuperiority of parts is the leaſt recommendation, nor is any depreſſion of fortune the ſmalleſt objection. None are too wiſe to be excuſed from performing the duties of religion, nor are any too poor to be excluded from the conſolations of its promiſes.

If we admire the wiſdom of God, in having furniſhed different degrees of intelligence, ſo exactly adapted to their different deſtinations, and in having fitted every part of his ſtupendous work, not only to ſerve its own immediate purpoſe, but alſo to contribute to the beauty and perfection of the whole: how much more ought we to adore that goodneſs, which has perfected the divine plan, by appointing one wide, comprehenſive, and univerſal means of ſalvation: a ſalvation, which all are invited to partake; by a means which all are capable of uſing; which nothing but voluntary blindneſs can prevent our comprehending, and nothing but wilful error can hinder us from embracing.

The Muſes are coy, and will only be wooed and won by ſome highly-favoured ſuitors. The Sciences are lofty, and will not ſtoop to the reach of ordinary capacities. But "Wiſdom (by which the royal preacher means piety) is a loving ſpirit: ſhe is eaſily ſeen of them that love her, and found of all ſuch as ſeek her." Nay, ſhe is ſo acceſſible and condeſcending, "that ſhe preventeth them that deſire her, making herſelf firſt known unto them."

We are told by the ſame animated writer, "that Wiſdom is the breath of the power of God." How infinitely ſuperior, in grandeur and ſublimity, is this deſcription to the origin of the wiſdom of the heathens, as deſcribed by their poets and mythologiſts! In the exalted ſtrains of the Hebrew poetry we read, that "Wiſdom is the brightneſs of the everlaſting light, the unſpotted mirror of the power of God, and the image of his goodneſs."

The philoſophical author of The Defence of Learning obſerves, that knowledge has ſomething of venom and malignity in it, when taken without its proper corrective, and what that is, the inſpired Saint Paul teaches us, by placing it as the immediate antidote: Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth. Perhaps, it is the vanity of human wiſdom, unchaſtiſed by this correcting principle, which has made ſo many infidels. It may proceed from the arrogance of a ſelf-ſufficient pride, that ſome philoſophers diſdain to acknowledge their belief in a being, who has judged proper to conceal from them the infinite wiſdom of his counſels; who, (to borrow the lofty language of the man of Uz) refuſed to conſult them when he laid the foundations of the earth, when he ſhut up the ſea with doors, and made the clouds the garment thereof.

A man muſt be an infidel either from pride, prejudice, or bad education: he cannot be one unawares or by ſurpriſe; for infidelity is not occaſioned by ſudden impulſe or violent temptation. He may be hurried by ſome vehement deſire into an immoral action, at which he will bluſh in his cooler moments, and which he will lament as the ſad effect of a ſpirit unſubdued by religion; but infidelity is a calm, conſiderate act, which cannot plead the weakneſs of the heart, or the ſeduction of the ſenſes. Even good men frequently fail in their duty through the infirmities of nature, and the allurements of the world; but the infidel errs on a plan, on a ſettled and deliberate principle.

But though the minds of men are ſometimes fatally infected with this diſeaſe, either through unhappy prepoſſeſſion, or ſome of the other cauſes above mentioned; yet I am unwilling to believe, that there is in nature ſo monſtrouſly incongruous a being, as a female infidel. The leaſt reflexion on the temper, the character, and the education of women, makes the mind revolt with horror from an idea ſo improbable, and ſo unnatural.

May I be allowed to obſerve, that, in general, the minds of girls ſeem more aptly prepared in their early youth for the reception of ſerious impreſſions than thoſe of the other ſex, and that their leſs expoſed ſituations in more advanced life qualify them better for the preſervation of them? The daughters (of good parents I mean) are often more carefully inſtructed in their religious duties, than the ſons, and this from a variety of cauſes. They are not ſo ſoon ſent from under the paternal eye into the buſtle of the world, and ſo early expoſed to the contagion of bad example: their hearts are naturally more flexible, ſoft, and liable to any kind of impreſſion the forming hand may ſtamp on them; and, laſtly, as they do not receive the ſame claſſical education with boys, their feeble minds are not obliged at once to receive and ſeparate the precepts of chriſtianity, and the documents of pagan philoſophy. The neceſſity of doing this perhaps ſomewhat weakens the ſerious impreſſions of young men, at leaſt till the underſtanding is formed, and confuſes their ideas of piety, by mixing them with ſo much heterogeneous matter. They only caſually read, or hear read, the ſcriptures of truth, while they are obliged to learn by heart, conſtrue and repeat the poetical fables of the leſs than human gods of the ancients. And as the excellent author of The Internal Evidence of the Chriſtian Religion obſerves, "Nothing has ſo much contributed to corrupt the true ſpirit of the chriſtian inſtitution, as that partiality which we contract, in our earlieſt education, for the manners of pagan antiquity."

Girls, therefore, who do not contract this early partiality, ought to have a clearer notion of their religious duties: they are not obliged, at an age when the judgment is ſo weak, to diſtinguiſh between the doctrines of Zeno, of Epicurus, and of Christ; and to embarraſs their minds with the various morals which were taught in the Porch, in the Academy, and on the Mount.

It is preſumed, that theſe remarks cannot poſſibly be ſo miſunderſtood, as to be conſtrued into the leaſt diſreſpect to literature, or a want of the higheſt reverence for a learned education, the baſis of all elegant knowledge: they are only intended, with all proper deference, to point out to young women, that however inferior their advantages of acquiring a knowledge of the belles-lettres are to thoſe of the other ſex; yet it depends on themſelves not to be ſurpaſſed in this moſt important of all ſtudies, for which their abilities are equal, and their opportunities, perhaps, greater.

But the mere exemption from infidelity is ſo ſmall a part of the religious character, that I hope no one will attempt to claim any merit from this negative ſort of goodneſs, or value herſelf merely for not being the very worſt thing ſhe poſſibly can be. Let no miſtaken girl fancy ſhe gives a proof of her wit by her want of piety, or that a contempt of things ſerious and ſacred will exalt her underſtanding, or raiſe her character even in the opinion of the moſt avowed male infidels. For one may venture to affirm, that with all their profligate ideas, both of women and of religion, neither Bolingbroke, Wharton, Buckingham, nor even Lord Cheſterfield himſelf, would have eſteemed a woman the more for her being irreligious.

With whatever ridicule a polite freethinker may affect to treat religion himſelf, he will think it neceſſary his wife ſhould entertain different notions of it. He may pretend to deſpiſe it as a matter of opinion, depending on creeds and ſyſtems; but, if he is a man of ſenſe, he will know the value of it, as a governing principle, which is to influence her conduct and direct her actions. If he ſees her unaffectedly ſincere in the practice of her religious duties, it will be a ſecret pledge to him, that ſhe will be equally exact in fulfilling the conjugal; for he can have no reaſonable dependance on her attachment to him, if he has no opinion of her fidelity to God; for ſhe who neglects firſt duties, gives but an indifferent proof of her diſpoſition to fill up inferior ones; and how can a man of any underſtanding (whatever his own religious profeſſions may be) truſt that woman with the care of his family, and the education of his children, who wants herſelf the beſt incentive to a virtuous life, the belief that ſhe is an accountable creature, and the reflection that ſhe has an immortal ſoul?

Cicero ſpoke it as the higheſt commendation of Cato's character, that he embraced philoſophy, not for the ſake of diſputing like a philoſopher, but of living like one. The chief purpoſe of chriſtian knowledge is to promote the great end of a chriſtian life. Every rational woman ſhould, no doubt, be able to give a reaſon of the hope that is in her; but this knowledge is beſt acquired, and the duties conſequent on it beſt performed, by reading books of plain piety and practical devotion, and not by entering into the endleſs feuds, and engaging in the unprofitable contentions of partial controverſialiſts. Nothing is more unamiable than the narrow ſpirit of party zeal, nor more diſguſting than to hear a woman deal out judgments, and denounce vengeance againſt any one, who happens to differ from her in ſome opinion, perhaps of no real importance, and which, it is probable, ſhe may be juſt as wrong in rejecting, as the object of her cenſure is in embracing. A furious and unmerciful female bigot wanders as far beyond the limits preſcribed to her ſex, as a Thaleſtris or a Joan d'Arc. Violent debate has made as few converts as the ſword, and both theſe inſtruments are particularly unbecoming when wielded by a female hand.

But, though no one will be frightened out of their opinions, yet they may be perſuaded out of them: they may be touched by the affecting earneſtneſs of ſerious converſation, and allured by the attractive beauty of a conſiſtently ſerious life. And while a young woman ought to dread the name of a wrangling polemic, it is her duty to aſpire after the honourable character of a ſincere Chriſtian. But this dignified character ſhe can by no means deſerve, if ſhe is ever afraid to avow her principles, or aſhamed to defend them. A profligate, who makes it a point to ridicule every thing which comes under the appearance of formal inſtruction, will be diſconcerted at the ſpirited yet modeſt rebuke of a pious young woman. But there is as much efficacy in the manner of reproving prophaneneſs, as in the words. If ſhe corrects it with moroſeneſs, ſhe defeats the effect of her remedy, by her unſkilful manner of adminiſtring it. If, on the other hand, ſhe affects to defend the inſulted cauſe of God, in a faint tone of voice, and ſtudied ambiguity of phraſe, or with an air of levity, and a certain expreſſion of pleaſure in her eyes, which proves ſhe is ſecretly delighted with what ſhe pretends to cenſure, ſhe injures religion much more than he did who publickly prophaned it; for ſhe plainly indicates, either that ſhe does not believe, or reſpect what ſhe profeſſes. The other attacked it as an open foe; ſhe betrays it as a falſe friend. No one pays any regard to the opinion of an avowed enemy; but the deſertion or treachery of a profeſſed friend, is dangerous indeed!

It is a ſtrange notion which prevails in the world, that religion only belongs to the old and the melancholy, and that it is not worth while to pay the leaſt attention to it, while we are capable of attending to any thing elſe. They allow it to be proper enough for the clergy, whoſe buſineſs it is, and for the aged, who have not ſpirits for any buſineſs at all. But till they can prove, that none except the clergy and the aged die, it muſt be confeſſed, that this is moſt wretched reaſoning.

Great injury is done to the intereſts of religion, by placing it in a gloomy and unamiable light. It is ſometimes ſpoken of, as if it would actually make a handſome woman ugly, or a young one wrinkled. But can any thing be more abſurd than to repreſent the beauty of holineſs as the ſource of deformity?

There are few, perhaps, ſo entirely plunged in buſineſs, or abſorbed in pleaſure, as not to intend, at ſome future time, to ſet about a religious life in good earneſt. But then they conſider it as a kind of dernier reſſort, and think it prudent to defer flying to this diſagreeable refuge, till they have no reliſh left for any thing elſe. Do they forget, that to perform this great buſineſs well requires all the ſtrength of their youth, and all the vigour of their unimpaired capacities? To confirm this aſſertion, they may obſerve how much the ſlighteſt indiſpoſition, even in the moſt active ſeaſon of life, diſorders every faculty, and diſqualifies them for attending to the moſt ordinary affairs: and then let them reflect how little able they will be to tranſact the moſt important of all buſineſs, in the moment of excruciating pain, or in the day of univerſal debility.

When the ſenſes are palled with exceſſive gratification; when the eye is tired with ſeeing, and the ear with hearing; when the ſpirits are ſo ſunk, that the graſshopper is become a burthen, how ſhall the blunted apprehenſion be capable of underſtanding a new ſcience, or the worn-out heart be able to reliſh a new pleaſure?

To put off religion till we have loſt all taſte for amuſement; to refuſe liſtening to the "voice of the charmer," till our enfeebled organs can no longer liſten to the voice of "ſinging men and ſinging women," and not to devote our days to heaven till we have "no pleaſure in them" ourſelves, is but an ungracious offering. And it is a wretched ſacrifice to the God of heaven, to preſent him with the remnants of decayed appetites, and the leavings of extinguiſhed paſſions.