_A Woman seldom writes her Mind but in her Postscript_.
I think this Gentlewoman has sufficiently discovered hers in this. I'll
lay what Wager she pleases against her present Favourite, and can tell
her that she will Like Ten more before she is fixed, and then will take
the worst Man she ever liked in her Life. There is no end of Affection
taken in at the Eyes only; and you may as well satisfie those Eyes with
seeing, as controul any Passion received by them only. It is from loving
by Sight that Coxcombs so frequently succeed with Women, and very often
a Young Lady is bestowed by her Parents to a Man who weds her as
Innocence itself, tho' she has, in her own Heart, given her Approbation
of a different Man in every Assembly she was in the whole Year before.
What is wanting among Women, as well as among Men, is the Love of
laudable Things, and not to rest only in the Forbearance of such as are
Reproachful.
How far removed from a Woman of this light Imagination is _Eudosia!
Eudosia_ has all the Arts of Life and good Breeding with so much Ease,
that the Virtue of her Conduct looks more like an Instinct than Choice.
It is as little difficult to her to think justly of Persons and Things,
as it is to a Woman of different Accomplishments, to move ill or look
awkward. That which was, at first, the Effect of Instruction, is grown
into an Habit; and it would be as hard for _Eudosia_ to indulge a wrong
Suggestion of Thought, as it would be for _Flavia_ the fine Dancer to
come into a Room with an unbecoming Air.
But the Misapprehensions People themselves have of their own State of
Mind, is laid down with much discerning in the following Letter, which
is but an Extract of a kind Epistle from my charming mistress
_Hecatissa_, who is above the Vanity of external Beauty, and is the best
Judge of the Perfections of the Mind.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
"I Write this to acquaint you, that very many Ladies, as well as
myself, spend many Hours more than we used at the Glass, for want of
the Female Library of which you promised us a Catalogue. I hope, Sir,
in the Choice of Authors for us, you will have a particular Regard to
Books of Devotion. What they are, and how many, must be your chief
Care; for upon the Propriety of such Writings depends a great deal. I
have known those among us who think, if they every Morning and Evening
spend an Hour in their Closet, and read over so many Prayers in six or
seven Books of Devotion, all equally nonsensical, with a sort of
Warmth, (that might as well be raised by a Glass of Wine, or a Drachm
of Citron) they may all the rest of their time go on in whatever their
particular Passion leads them to. The beauteous _Philautia_, who is
(in your Language) an _Idol_, is one of these Votaries; she has a very
pretty furnished Closet, to which she retires at her appointed Hours:
This is her Dressing-room, as well as Chapel; she has constantly
before her a large Looking-glass, and upon the Table, according to a
very witty Author,
_Together lye her Prayer-book and Paint,
At once t' improve the Sinner and the Saint_.
It must be a good Scene, if one could be present at it, to see this
_Idol_ by turns lift up her Eyes to Heaven, and steal Glances at her
own dear Person. It cannot but be a pleasing Conflict between Vanity
and Humiliation. When you are upon this Subject, choose Books which
elevate the Mind above the World, and give a pleasing Indifference to
little things in it. For want of such Instructions, I am apt to
believe so many People take it in their Heads to be sullen, cross and
angry, under pretence of being abstracted from the Affairs of this
Life, when at the same time they betray their Fondness for them by
doing their Duty as a Task, and pouting and reading good Books for a
Week together. Much of this I take to proceed from the Indiscretion of
the Books themselves, whose very Titles of Weekly Preparations, and
such limited Godliness, lead People of ordinary Capacities into great
Errors, and raise in them a Mechanical Religion, entirely distinct
from Morality. I know a Lady so given up to this sort of Devotion,
that tho' she employs six or eight Hours of the twenty-four at Cards,
she never misses one constant Hour of Prayer, for which time another
holds her Cards, to which she returns with no little Anxiousness till
two or three in the Morning. All these Acts are but empty Shows, and,
as it were, Compliments made to Virtue; the Mind is all the while
untouched with any true Pleasure in the Pursuit of it. From hence I
presume it arises that so many People call themselves Virtuous, from
no other Pretence to it but an Absence of Ill. There is _Dulcianara_
is the most insolent of all Creatures to her Friends and Domesticks,
upon no other Pretence in Nature but that (as her silly Phrase is) no
one can say Black is her Eye. She has no Secrets, forsooth, which
should make her afraid to speak her Mind, and therefore she is
impertinently Blunt to all her Acquaintance, and unseasonably
Imperious to all her Family. Dear Sir, be pleased to put such Books in
our Hands, as may make our Virtue more inward, and convince some of us
that in a Mind truly virtuous the Scorn of Vice is always accompanied
with the Pity of it. This and other things are impatiently expected
from you by our whole Sex; among the rest by,