Of the first rank of these is the _Beau_, who is one that has more

Learning in his Heels than his Head, which is better cover’d than

fill’d. His Taylor and his Barber are his Cabinet Councel, to whom he is

more beholding for what he is, than to his Maker. He is One that has

travell’d to see Fashions, and brought over with him the newest cut

suit, and the prettiest Fancy’d Ribbands for Sword Knots. His best

Acquaintance at _Paris_ was his Dancing Master, whom he calls the

Marquiss, and his chief Visits to the Opera’s. He has seen the _French_

King once, and knows the name of his cheif Minister, and is by this

suffciently convinc’d that there are no Politicians in any other Part of

the World. His improvements are a nice Skill in the Mode, and a high

Contempt of his own Country, and of Sense. All the knowledge he has of

the Country, or Manners of it, is in the keeping of the Valet that

follow’d him hither, and all that he retains of the Language is a few

modish words to lard his discourse with, and shew his Breeding, and the

names of his Garniture. He shou’d be a Philosopher, for he studies

nothing but himself, yet ev’ry one knows him better, that thinks him not

worth knowing. His looks and gestures are his constant Lesson, and his

Glass is the Oracle that resolves all his mighty doubts and scruples. He

examines and refreshes his Complexion by it, and is more dejected at a

Pimple, than if it were a Cancer. When his Eyes are set to a languishing

Air, his Motions all prepar’d according to Art, his Wig and his Coat

abundantly Powder’d, his Gloves Essenc’d, and his Handkercher perfum’d

and all the rest of his Bravery rightly adjusted, the greatest part of

the day, as well the business of it at home, is over; ’tis time to

launch, and down he comes, scented like a Perfumers Shop, and looks like

a Vessel with all her rigging under sail without Ballast. A Chair is

brought within the door, for he apprehends every Breath of Air as much,

as if it were a Hurricane. His first Vesit is to the _Chocolate_ House,

and after a quarter of an Hours Compliment to himself in the great

Glass, he faces about and salutes the Company, and puts in practice his

Mornings Meditations; When he has made his Cringes round, and play’d

over all his Tricks, out comes the fine _Snush Box_, and his _Nose_ is

Regal’d a while: After this he begins to open, and starts some learned

Arguments about the newest Fashion, and hence takes occasion to commend

the next Man’s Fancy in his Cloths, this ushers in a discourse of the

Appearance last _Birth Night_, or _Ball_ at Court, and so a Critick upon

this _Lord_, or that _Ladies_ Masquing Habit. From hence he adjourns to

the _Play-house_, where he is to be met again in the side Box, from

whence he makes his Court to all the Ladies in general with his Eyes,

and is particular only with the _Orange-Wench_. After a while he engages

some neighbouring Vizor, and together they run over all the Boxes, take

to Pieces every Face, examine every Feature, pass their Censure upon

every one, and so on to their Dress; here he very Judiciously gives his

opinion upon every particular, and determines whose Colours are well

chosen, whose Fancy is neatest, and whose Cloths fit with most Air; but

in conclusion sees no Body compleat but himself in the whole House.

After this he looks down with contempt upon the Pit, and rallies all the

slovenly Fellows, and awkard Beau’s (as he calls them) of t’other End of

the Town, is mightily offended at their ill scented _Snush_, and in

spight of all his _Pulvilio_ and _Essences_, is overcome with the stink

of their _Cordovant Gloves_. To close all, _Madam_, in the Mask must

give him an account of the Scandal of the Town, which she does in the

History of abundance of Intrigues real or feign’d; at all which he

laughs aloud and often, not to shew his satisfaction, but his Teeth. She

shews him who is kept by such a Lord, Who was lately discarded by such a

Knight, for granting favours too indiscreetly to such a Gentleman: who

has lately been in the Country for two or three Months upon

extraordinary Occasions. To all which he gives great attention, that he

may pass for a Man of Intelligence in another Place. His next Stage is

_Locket’s_, where his Vanity, not his Stomach, is to be gratified with

something that is _little_ and _dear_, _Quails_ and _Ortalans_ are the

meanest of his Diet, and a Spoonful of _Green Pease_ at _Christmass_,

are worth to him more than the inheritance of the _Feild_ where they

grow in _Summer_. Every thing falls in his Esteem, as it falls in price,

and he wou’d not so much as tast the _Wine_, if the hard name, and the

high rate did not give it a relish. After a glass or two, (for a Pint is

his stint) he begins to talk of his Intrigues, boasts much of the

Favours he has receiv’d, and shews counterfeit Tokens, and in

Conclusion, slanders some Lady or other of unquestion’d Vertue with a

particular fondness for him. His Amours are all profound Secrets, yet he

makes a Confidence of ’em to every Man he meets with. He pretends a

great reverence for the Ladies, and a mighty tenderness of their

Reputations; yet he is like a _Flesh Flye_, whatever he blows on is

tainted. He talks of nothing under Quality, tho’ he never obtain’d a

Favour, which his Man might not have for half a Crown. He and his

Footman in this Case are like _English_ and _Dutch_ at an Ordinary in

_Holland_, the Fare is the same, but the Price is vastly different. Thus

the Show goes forward, till he is beaten for Trespasses he was never

guilty of, and shall be damn’d for Sins he never Committed. At last,

with his Credit as low as his Fortune he retires sullenly to his

Cloister, the _King’s-Bench_, or _Fleet_, and passes the rest of his

days in Privacy, and Contemplation. Here, _Madam_, if you please wee’l

give him one _Visit_ more, and see the last _Act_ of the _Farce_; and

you shall find him (whose Sobriety was before a _Vice_, as being only

the _Pimp_ to his other _Pleasures_, and who fear’d a lighted _Pipe_ as

much as if it had been a great _Gun_ levell’d at him) with his _Nose

Flaming_, and his _Breath_ stinking of Spirits worse than a _Dutch

Tarpawlin’s_, and smoking out of a short _Pipe_, that for some Months

has been kept hot as constantly as a _Glass-House_, and so I leave him

to his Meditation.

You wou’d think it yet more strange, that any one should be _Slovenly_

and _Nasty_ out of _Vanity_; yet such there are I can assure you,

_Madam_, and cou’d easily give a description of ’em, but that so foul a

Relation must needs be Nauseous to a Person so Neat as your _Self_; and

wou’d be treating You as the _Country Squire_ did his _Court Friend_,

who when he had shew’d him all the Curiosities of his House and Gardens,

carried him into his Hogsties. But there are more than enow to justifie

what I have said of the Humour of _Diogenes_, who was as vain and as

proud in his _Tub_, as _Plato_ cou’d be in the midst of his fine

_Persian Carpets_, and rich _Furniture_. Vanity is only an Ambition of

being taken notice of, which shews it self variously according to the

humour of the Persons; which was more extravagant in the _Anti-Beau_,

than in the _Beau Philosopher_. Vanity is the veriest _Proteus_ in the

World, it can Ape _Humility_, and can make Men decry themselves on

purpose to be Flattered; like some cunning _Preachers_ that cry up

_Mortification_ and _Self-denial_ perpetually, and are pamper’d all the

while by the Zeal and at the Charges of their Followers, who are affraid

the good Man shou’d starve himself. It is the Blessing of Fools, and the

Folly of Ingenious Men. For it makes those contentedly hugg themselves

under all the scorn of the World, and the Indignities that are offer’d

’em, and these restless and dissatisfied with its applause. Both think

the World envious, and that their merit is injur’d, and it is impossible

to right either of ’em to their Minds; for those have no title to the

pretence of merit, and these not so much as they think they have. Yet it

is the Happiness of the first that they can think themselves capable of

moving _Envy_; [Sidenote: _Vanity a Blessing to Fools._] for though they

commonly mistake the Derision of Men, for their applause, yet Men are

sometimes so ill Natur’d as to undeceive ’em, and then it is their

Comfort, that these are envious Men, and misrepresent the Worlds opinion

of ’em. Cou’d these Men be convinc’d of their mistake, I see nothing

that shou’d hinder them from being desperate, and hanging or disposing

of themselves some other such way. For though a Man may comfort himself

under Afflictions, it is either that they are undeserved, or if

deserved, that he suffers only for Oversights, or rash Acts, by which

the wisest Men may be sometimes overtaken; that he is in the main

Discreet and Prudent, and that others believe him so. But when a Man

falls under his own _Contempt_, and does not only think himself not

wise, but by _Nature_ made absolutely incapable of ever becoming _Wise_,

he is in a deplorable _State_, and wants the common _Comfort_, as well

of _Fools_, as _Wise Men_, Vanity; which in such a Case is the only

proper _Mediatour_ of a _Reconcilement_. No Quality seems to be more

Providentially distributed to every Man according to his Necessity; for

those that have least Wit, ought to have the greatest Opinion of it; as

all other Commodities are rated highest, where they are scarcest. By

this means the level is better maintain’d amongst Men, who, were this

imaginary Equality destroy’d, might be apt to reverence, and idolize one

another too much, and forgetting the common Fate, they are all Born to,

pay Honours too near divine to their Fellow Mortals. But as the humour

of the World now runs, this sort of _Idolatry_ is scarce likely to come

into Fashion. We have too great an Opinion of our selves, to believe too

well of any one else, and we are in nothing more difficult than in

points of Wit and Understanding, in either of which we very unwillingly

yield the Preference to any Man. There is nothing of which we affect to

speak with more humility and indifference than our own Sense, yet

nothing of which we think with more Partiality, and Presumption. There

have been some so bold as to assume the Title of the _Oracles_ of

_Reason_ to themselves, and their own Writings; and we meet with others

daily, that think themselves _Oracles_ of _Wit_. These are the most

Vexatious Animals in the World, that think they have a Priviledge to

torment and plague every Body; but those most who have the best

Reputation for their Wit of Judgment; as _Fleas_ are said to molest

those most, who have the tenderest _Skins_, and the sweetest _Blood_.

Of these the most voluminous Fool is the Fop Poet, who is one that has

always more Wit in his Pockets than any where else, [Sidenote:

_Character of a Poetaster._] yet seldom or never any of his own there.

_Esop_’s _Daw_ was a _Type_ of him; For he makes himself fine with the

Plunder of all Parties. He is a Smuggler of Wit, and steals _French_

Fancies without paying the customary Duties. Verse is his _Manufacture_;

For it is more the labour of his Finger than his brain. He spends much

time in Writing, but ten times more in Reading what he has Written. He

is loaden constantly with more Papers, and duller than a _Clerk_ in

_Chancery_, and spends more time in _Hearings_, and _Rehearings_. He

asks your Opinion, yet for fear you shou’d not jump with him, tells you

his own first. He desires no Favour, yet is disappointed, if he be not

Flatter’d, and is offended always at the Truth. His first Education is

generally a _Shop_, or a _Counting-House_, where his acquaintance

commences with the _Bell-man_ upon a new Years day. He puts him upon

Intriguing with the _Muses_, and promises to _Pimp_ for him. From this

time forward he hates the name of _Mechanick_, and resolves to sell all

his stock, and purchase a Plantation in _Parnassas_. He is now a

Poetical _Haberdasher_ of _Small Wares_, and deals very much in

_Novels_, _Madrigals_, _Riddles_, _Funeral_, and _Love Odes_, and

_Elegies_, and other Toyes from _Helicon_, which he has a Shop so well

furnish’d with, that he can fit you with all sorts and Sizes upon all

Occasions in the twinkling of an Eye. He frequents _Apollo_’s _Exchange_

in _Covent-Garden_, and picks up the freshest Intelligence what _Plays_

are upon the Stocks, or ready to be launch’d; who have lately made a

good Voyage, who a saving one only, and who have suffer’d a Wreck in

_Lincoln_’s-_Inn-Feilds_, or _Drury-Lane_, and which are brought into

the Dock to be Careen’d and fitted for another Voyage. He talks much of

_Jack Dryden_, and _Will. Wyckerley_, and the rest of that Set, and

protests he can’t help having some respect for ’em, because they have so

much for him, and his Writings; otherwise he cou’d shew ’em to be meer

Sots and Blockheads that understand little of Poetry, in comparison of

himself; but he forbears ’em meerly out of Gratitude, and Compassion.

Once a Month he fits out a small _Poetical Smeck_ at the charge of his

Bookseller, which he lades with _French Plunder_ new Vampt in _English_,

small Ventures of _Translated Odes_, _Elegies_ and _Epigrams_ of Young

Traders, and ballasts with heavy _Prose_ of his own; for which returns

are to be made to the several Owners in Testers, or applause from the

Prentices and Tyre Women that deal for ’em. He is the Oracle of those

that want Wit, and the Plague of those that have it; for he haunts their

Lodgings, and is more terrible to ’em, than their Duns. His Pocket is an

unexhaustible Magazine of _Rhime_, and _Nonsense_, and his Tongue like a

repeating Clock with Chimes, is ready upon every touch to sound to ’em.

Men avoid him for the same Reason, they avoid the _Pillory_, the

security of their _Ears_; of which he is as merciless a Persecutor. He

is the Bane of Society, a Friend to the Stationers, the Plague of the

Press, and the Ruine of his Bookseller. He is more profitable to the

_Grocers_ and _Tabacconists_ than the _Paper Manufacture_; for his

Works, which talk so much of Fire and Flame, commonly expire in their

Shops in _Vapour_ and _Smoak_. If he aspire to _Comedy_, he intrigues

with some experienc’d _Damsel_ of the _Town_, in order to instruct

himself in the humour of it, and is cullied by her into _Matrimony_, and

so is furnish’d at once with a Plot, and two good Characters, himself

and his Wife, and is paid with a Portion for a Jointure in _Parnassus_,

which I leave him to make his best of.

[Sidenote: _Vanity Universal._]

I shall not trouble you with any more Instances of the foolish vanities

of Mankind; because I am affraid I have been too large upon that Head

already. Not that I think there is any Order or Degree of Men, which

wou’d not afford many and notorious instances for our Purpose. For as I

think _Vanity_ almost the Universal mover of all our Actions, whether

good or bad; so I think there are scarce any Men so Ingenious, or so

Vertuous, but something of it will shine through the greatest Part of

what they do, let them cast never so thick a Vail over it. What makes

Men so solicitous of leaving a Reputation behind ’em in the World,

though they know they can’t be affected with it after Death, but this

even to a degree of Folly? What else makes great Men involve themselves

in the Fatigues and Hazards of War, and intricate Intrigues of State,

when they have already more than they can enjoy, but an Itch of being

talk’d of and remembred, to which they sacrifice their present happiness

and repose?

But I shall carry these Considerations no farther; because I have

already singled out some of those many whose _Vanity_ is more

extravagant and ridiculous, than any our Sex is chargeable with, these

slight Touches may serve to let ’em see, that even the greatest, and

Wisest are not wholely exempt, if they have it not in a higher Degree,

tho’ they exercise it in things more Popular, and Plausible. I hope

therefore the burthen of this good Quality will not hereafter be laid

upon us alone, but the Men will be contented to divide the Load with us,

and be thankful that they bear less than their Proportion.

[Sidenote: _Impertinence._]

_Impertinence_ comes next under Consideration, in which I shall be as

brief, as I conveniently can, in regard I have been so long upon the

precedeing Head. _Impertinence_ is a humour of busying our selves about

things trivial, and of no Moment in themselves, or unseasonably in

things of no concern to us, or wherein we are able to do nothing to any

Purpose. Here our Adversaries insult over us, as if they had gain’d an

intire _Victory_, and the _Field_ were indisputable; but they shall have

no cause for _Triumph_, this is no Post of such mighty advantage as they

fondly persuade themselves. This _Presumption_ arises from an Erroneous

Conceit, that all those things in which they are little concern’d, or

consulted, [Sidenote: _Commonly mistaken._] are triffles below their

care or notice, which indeed they are not by Nature so well able to

manage. Thus, when they hear us talking to, and advising one another

about the Order, Distribution and Contrivance of _Houshold Affairs_,

about the _Regulation_ of the _Family_, and _Government_ of _Children_

and _Servants_, the provident management of a _Kitchin_, and the decent

ordering of a _Table_, the suitable _Matching_, and convenient

disposition of _Furniture_ and the like, they presently condemn us for

impertinence. Yet they may be pleased to consider, that as the affairs

of the World are now divided betwixt us, the _Domestick_ are our share,

and out of which we are rarely suffer’d to interpose our Sense. They may

be pleased to consider likewise, that as light and inconsiderable as

these things seem, they are capable of no Pleasures of Sense higher or

more refin’d than those of _Brutes_ without our care of ’em. For were it

not for that, their Houses wou’d be meer _Bedlams_, their most luxurious

Treats, but a rude confusion of ill Digested, ill mixt Scents and

Relishes, and the fine Furniture, they bestow so much cost on, but an

expensive heap of glittering _Rubbish_. Thus they are beholding to us

for the comfortable Enjoyment of what their labour or good Fortune hath

acquir’d or bestow’d, and think meanly of our care only, because they

understand not the value of it. But if we shall be thought impertinent

for Discourses of this Nature, as I deny not but we sometimes justly

may, when they are unseasonable; what censure must those Men bear, who

are prepetually talking of _Politicks_, _State Affairs_ and _Grievances_

to us, in which perhaps neither they, nor We are much concern’d, or if

we be, are not able to propose, much less to apply any Remedy to ’em?

Surely these are impertinent; not to call the _Beau_, or _Poetaster_ on

the _Stage_ again, whose whole Lives are one continued scene of Folly

and Impertinence; let us make the best of our _News Monger_.

[Sidenote: _Character of a Coffee-House Politician._]

He is one whose Brains having been once over-heated, retain something of

the Fire in ’em ever after. He mistakes his Passion for Zeal, and his

Noise and Bustling, for Services. He is always full of Doubts, Fears,

and Jealousies, and is never without some notable Discovery of a deep

laid Design, or a dangerous Plot found out in a _Meal Tub_, or

_Petticoat_. He is a mighty Listner after _Prodigies_, and never hears

of a _Whale_, or a _Comet_, but he apprehends some sudden _Revolution_

in the State, and looks upon a _Groaning-board_, or a _speaking-head_,

as fore-runners of the _Day_ of _Judgment_. He is a great Lover of the

King, but a bitter Enemy to all about him, and thinks it impossible for

him to have any but _Evil Counsellors_, and though he be very zealous

for the Government, yet he never finds any thing in it but _Grievances_

and _Miscarriages_ to declaim upon. He is a Well-wisher to the _Church_,

but he is never to be reconcil’d to the _Bishops_ and _Clergy_, and

rails most inveterately at the _Act_ of _Uniformity_. He hates

_Persecution_ implacably, and contends furiously for _Moderation_, and

can scarce think well of the _Toleration_, because it is an Act of the

State. He professes himself of the _Church_ of _England_, pretends to

like the Worship of it, but he goes to Meetings in spight to the

_Parson_ of his _Parish_. His _Conscience_ is very tender and scrupulous

in Matters of Ceremony, but it is as steely and tough as Brawn behind

his Counter, and can digest any Sin of Gain. He lodges at home, but he

lives at the _Coffee-house_. He converses more with _News Papers_,

_Gazettes_ and _Votes_, than with his _Shop Books_, and his constant

Application to the _Publick_ takes him off all Care for his _Private

Concern_. He is always settling the _Nation_, yet cou’d never manage his

own _Family_. He is a mighty Stickler at all _Elections_, and tho’ he

has no _Vote_, thinks it impossible any thing shou’d go right unless he

be there to Bawl for it. His business is at _Home_, but his thoughts are

in _Flanders_, and he is earnestly investing of Towns till the

_Sheriff’s Officers_ beleaguer his Doors. He is busie in forcing of

_Counterscarps_, and storming of _Breaches_, while his _Creditors_ take

his _Shop_ by surprize, and make Plunder of his _Goods_. Thus by mending

the _State_, He marrs his own _Fortune_; and never leaves talking of the

_Laws_ of the _Land_, till the Execution of ’em silence him.

This sort of Impertinents the _Coffee-houses_ are every day full of;

nay, so far has this contagious Impertinence spread it self, that

_Private Houses_, and _Shops_, nay, the very _Streets_ and _Bulks_ are

infected and pester’d with Politicks and News. Not a Pot cou’d go glibly

down, or a flitch go merrily forward without _Namur_, a while ago; ’twas

_Spice_ to the _Porter’s Ale_, and _Wax_ to the _Cobler’s Thread_; the

one suspended his Draught, and the other his Awl to enquire what was

become of the _Rogue_, and were very glad to hear he was taken, and

expected no doubt he shou’d come over and make ’em a _Holy-day_ at his

Execution. They were mightily rejoyc’d at the Arresting of the Mareschal

_Boufflers_, and made no question but they shou’d see him amongst the

rest of the _Beasts_ at _Bartholomew Fair_ for Two Pence. This Folly of

the _Mob_ was in some measure excusable, because their Ignorance led ’em

into an expectation of seeing what had given the World so much Trouble.

But those that have better knowledge of things have no such _Plea_, they

ought to have been wiser, than to have busied themselves so much and so

earnestly about affairs, which all their care and Sollicitude could have

no more influence upon, than over the Weather. ’Twas pleasant to see

what Shoals the report of the arrival of a _Holland_, or _Flanders

Mail_, brought to the _Secretary’s Office_, the _Post Office_, and the

_Coffee-Houses_; every one Crowding to catch the News first, which as

soon as they had, they posted away like so many Expresses to disperse it

among their Neighbours at more distance, that waited with Ears prickt up

to receive ’em, or walk’d uneasily with a Foolish Impatience to and from

the Door, or Window, as if their looking out so often wou’d fetch ’em

the sooner. Most Men in their News are like _Beau_’s in their Diet, the

worst is welcome while ’tis fresh and scarce, and the best is not worth

a Farthing when it has been blown upon; and commonly they fare like

_Beau_’s, are fond of it while ’tis young and insipid, and neglect it

when ’tis grown up to its full, and true relish. No sooner is it

rumour’d that a Breach is made in the _Castle Wall_, or the _White Flag_

hung out, but a _Council of War_ is call’d in every _Coffee-house_ in

Town; the _French_, and _Dutch Prints_, their Intelligencers are call’d

for immediately, and examin’d, and not a Shot is mention’d but they

start as if the Ball whizz’d just then by their Ears. After this follows

a serious debate about a general Assault, and whether they shall storm

immediately, or not; who shall begin the Attack; what Conditions shall

be granted on Capitulation. The Castle of _Namur_ thus taken, or

Surrender’d, they proceed to take their Measures, and settle the next

Campaign, and whatever harm we suffer by those mischeivous _French_ in

the Field, they are sure to take sufficient Revenge, and pay ’em off

Swingingly in the _Coffee-houses_: But as if this were not enough, Our

greatest Actions must be Buffoon’d in Show, as well as Talk. Shall

_Namur_ be taken and our Hero’s of the City not show their Prowess upon

so great an Occasion? [Sidenote: _City Militia._] It must never be said,

that the _Coffee-houses_ dar’d more than _Moor-Fields_; No, for the

honour of _London_, out comes the Foreman of the _Shop_ very Formidable

in _Buff_ and _Bandileers_, and away he marches with Feather in Cap, to

the general Rendezvous in the _Artillery Ground_. There these terrible

Mimicks of _Mars_ are to spend their Fury in _Noise_ and _Smoke_, upon a

_Namur_ erected for that purpose on a _Molehill_, and by the help of

_Guns_ and _Drums_ out-stink and out-rattle _Smith-field_ in all its

Bravery, and wou’d be too hard for the greatest Man in all _France_, if

they had him but amongst ’em. Yet this is but Skirmishing, the hot

Service is in another Place, when they engage the _Capons_ and _Quart

Pots_; never was Onset more Vigorous, For they come to Handy-Blows

immediately, and now is the real cutting and slashing, and Tilting

without Quarter, Were the Towns in _Flanders_ all wall’d with _Beef_,

and the _French_ as good meat as _Capons_, and drest the same way, the

King need never beat his Drums for Soldiers; all these Gallant Fellows

wou’d come in Voluntarily, the meanest of which wou’d be able to eat a

Mareschal, and whom nothing cou’d oppose in conjunction.

Nothing is more common, and familiar than this sort of Impertinence;

Most Men wou’d have little to do, did they busie themselves about

nothing, but what they understood, or were concern’d in. A Monkey is not

liker a Man in his Figure, than in his humour. How ready are all Mankind

to censure without Authority, and to give advice unaskt, and without

reason. They are very much mistaken, that think this forwardness to

thrust themselves into other’s affairs, springs from any Principle of

Charity or Tenderness for ’em, or the least Regard to the Welfare of

their Neighbours. ’Tis only a Vain Conceit that they are wiser, and more

able to advise, which puts ’em upon engaging in things they have nothing

to do with, [Sidenote: _Officious Impertinences._] and passing their

Judgments Magisterially on matters they have no Cognizance of, and

generally little Information, or Skill in. They are desirous the World

shou’d have as great an Opinion of ’em as they have of themselves, and

therefore impertinently interpose their own Authority and Sense, tho’

never so little to the purpose, only to shew how well they cou’d manage,

were it their Business; thus they advise without good intention, or

kindness, and censure without design, or malice to the Persons

counsell’d, or reflected on, These buzzing Insects swarm as thick every

where, and are as troublesome as _Muskettoes_ in the _West-Indies_. They

are perpetually in a hurry of Business, yet are forc’d to rack their

Inventions to employ their Leisure. They are very busie for every Body,

and serve no Body. They are always in hast, and think themselves

expected every where with Impatience, yet come sooner alwayes than they

are welcome. They will walk a Mile, and spend an hour to tell any one

how urgent their Business is, and what hast they are in to be gone.

Their Expedition is their greatest Loss, For Time is the only thing that

lies heavy upon their hands. They are walking _Gazetts_, that carry News

from one Neighbour to another, and have their Stages about the Town as

regular and certain, as a _Penny Postman_. Every Man is their

acquaintance, but no Man their Friend. They drudge for every Body, and

are paid by no Body, and tho’ their Lives be worn out in endeavours to

oblige all Mankind, when they die no one regrets their Loss, or misses

their Service.

There are another sort of Impertinents, [Sidenote: _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_, _Spiders_, _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_, and 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 of

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 World 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 palms

_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.

This, _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, or 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, what 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

Birth; 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 Faith, 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_, a 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

pronounce 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 Actions, 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, some 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. [Sidenote: _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, Wit, 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 of 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 the 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_, [Sidenote:

_Dissimulation when criminal._] which is always Criminal, that is when

Men not only cloud their real _Sentiments_ and Intentions, but 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 being 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, [Sidenote: _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_ in 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, [Sidenote: _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 need 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 their 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 to 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.

[Sidenote: _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 to 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. For (as he says) they

_Provoke_ him _And offend his Eyes_: [Sidenote: _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 much _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 or 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 to 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;

[Sidenote: _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 of 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, [Sidenote: _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 of 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, and 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.

[Sidenote: _Inconstancy_]

_Inconstancy_ 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, [Sidenote: _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 which 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. [Sidenote: _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 accidents

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 any 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, that scarce any Age has

been so fruitful as to produce two Pair of real and true Friends.

[Sidenote: _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. [Sidenote: _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

ordinary 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 self any further trouble, I

dare appeal to any reasonable _Man_, and leave him to decide the

Difference. [Sidenote: _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 no 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.

[Sidenote: _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.

Without ’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.

[Sidenote: _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 their 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 another. 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, which

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 is 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.

[Sidenote: _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 how 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, whom 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_, [Sidenote: _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 conversing 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.

[Sidenote: _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 the

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 _Men_

contend for Realities, [Sidenote: _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 and 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

Verses 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 hard 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_.

THE

CONTENTS.

A

_Argument from Providence_, p. 9.

—— _from the different Make, and Temper of Body in the two Sexes_, p.

18.

_Amazons, why they banisht Men_, p. 24.

_Advantages of Womens Company_, p. 135.

B

_Bodies Organiz’d alike_, p. 12.

_Brutes of both Sexes of equal sense_, p. 13.

_Bully’s Character_, p. 62.

_Beau’s Character_, p. 68.

_Boasters of Intrigues base Fellows_, p. 115.

C

_Conversation, its End_, p. 7.

—— _its requisite Conditions_, p. 9.

_Country Squire’s Character_, p. 20.

_Coffee-house Politician’s Character_, p. 87.

_City Militia_, p. 92.

_City Critick’s Character_, p. 119.

_Complacence how acquir’d_, p. 136.

D

_Diffidence of themselves a great discouragement to Women_, p. 55.

_Dissimulation necessary_, p. 110.

—— _why most us’d by Men_, p. 112.

—— _when Criminal_, p. 113.

—— _How differing from deceit_, p. 114.

E

_Education Mens greatest advantage_, p. 6.

—— _Of the Female Sex not so deficient as commonly suppos’d_, p. 36.

_English Books very improving_, p. 41.

—— _best helps to Conversation_, p. 47.

_Envy most injurious to Virtue_, p. 116.

F

_Friendship, its requisite Conditions_, p. 9.

_Failings falsly charg’d on Women_, p. 60.

_Fools no fit Companions for Women_, p. 145.

G

_Gentlemen, best Writers of Morality, Humanity_, &c. p. 52.

_Gallantry, how acquir’d_, p. 140.

—— _How distinguisht from Complacence_, p. 142.

I

_Invention improvable by the Society of Women_, p. 143.

_Ignorance of Latin no disadvantage_, p. 57.

_Imitation ridiculous_, p. 66.

_Impertinence, what_, p. 84.

—— _commonly mistaken_, p. 85.

—— _Epidemical_, p. 89.

—— _Officious_, p. 94.

—— _To be measur’d by its Artifice_, p. 109.

L

_Learning unjustly restrain’d to Latin and Greek only_, p. 45.

_Love frequently false_, p. 115.

_Levity, what_, p. 124.

—— _Less among Women than Men_, p. 125.

_Love, why so soon cold_, p. 128.

P

_Pedant’s Character_, p. 27.

_Points of deep Learning and Politicks, improper for mixt

Conversation_, p. 40.

_Poetaster’s Character_, p. 79.

Q

_The Question stated_, p. 6.

R

_Religion_, &c. _no proper subjects for mixt Conversation_, p. 38.

S

_Sexes not distinguish’d in Souls_, p. 11.

_Salique Law, its Original_, p. 22.

_Scowrer’s Character_, p, 64.

U

_Vulgar of both Sexes of equal Capacity_, p. 15.

_Vanity the Vice of Men_, p. 60.

—— _Fools Blessing_, p. 76.

—— _Universal_, p. 82.

_Vertuoso’s Character_, p. 96.

W

_Women, bred to too much Ignorance of Business_, p. 16.

—— _Industriously kept in ignorance_, p. 20.

—— _Why constanter Lovers than Men_, p. 129.

—— _Truer Friends than Men; and why_, p. 132.

—— _Not generally so vicious as Men_, p. 134.

_FINIS_:

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