THE COMPLETE BEAU  

This vain gay thing sets up for man.  
But see with fate attends him,  
The powd'ring Barber first began.  
The Barber Surgeon ends him.     

AN ESSAY In Defence of the FEMALE SEX. In which are inserted the CHARACTERS OF 

A Pedant,  
A Squire,  
A Beau,  
A Vertuoso,  
A Poetaster,  
A City-Critick, etc.    
In a Letter to a Lady.  
Written by a Lady.  
Since each is fond of his own ugly Face;  
Why should you when we hold it break the Glass?  Prol. to Sir F. Flutter. 
LONDON, Printed for A. Roper and E. Wilkinson at the Black Boy, and R. Clavel at the Peacock, in Fleetstreet, 1696.   

To Her Royal Highness the Princess Anne of Denmark.  
MADAM,  
IF in adventuring to lay this little Piece at your Highness' Feet, and humbly beg your Royal Protection of it, I have presumed too far, be pleased to impute it to your own, most gracious Goodness, the knowledge of which encouraged me. Our Sex are by Nature tender of their own Offspring, and may be allowed to have more fondness for those of the Brain, than any other; because they are so few, and meet with so many Enemies at their first appearance in the World. I hope therefore to find pardon, if like an indulgent Parent, I have endeavoured to advance my first Born, by entering it very early into your Highness' Service.  
I have not presumed to approach your Highness out of any Confidence in the merits of this Essay, but of the Cause which it pleads, wherein the Honour of the whole Sex seemed to exact of me no less a Patronage than that of the Best, as well as Greatest among 'em, whom they are all ambitious to see at their head. I have only endeavoured to reduce the Sexes to a Level, and by Arguments to raise Ours to an Equality at most with the Men: But your Highness by Illustrious Example daily convinces the World of our Superiority, and we see with wonder, Virtues in you, Madam, greater than your Birth. In this I am peculiarly happy, that I am exempted from the common Task of other Dedicators, who lie under an Obligation to publishing to the World those Excellencies of their Patrons, which perhaps appear no where but in their Epistles. In me it were as great folly, to pretend to make known the Illustrious Qualities of your Highness, as it would be to go about to demonstrate by Argument, that the Sun shined, to a Crowd that are warmed by the Influence of it.  
I had attempted the Character of a consummate Woman, could I, tho' but faintly have shadowed the inimitable Graces of you Highness; but the impossibility of that Task forced me to desist. It were easy here to launch into those glorious particulars, which affirmed of any other than your Royal Highness, would have been extravagance of Flattery; but to you Injustice, and in me the highest presumption, to attempt with my feeble Hand those Perfections, which the ablest must fall infinitely short of. The lustre of your Royal Virtues, Madam, like the Sun, gives us warmth and light, and while at a modest distance we admire it, improves our sight, which too bold a view confounds, yet the meanest and most ignorant see those Glories, which the most exquisite Artist can never express. The World therefore will rather justify than comdemn my conduct, if I do not wrong so bright an Original with a dark obscure Copy.  
Madam, Tho' the world may condemn my performance, it must applaud my choice in this Address, and own that had I known as well how to Argue, as to Instance, I must infallibly have Triumphed over all Opposition. It may be easy to evade, or bastle the force of my Arguments, but it is impossible without the utmost Stupidity, and Injustice to deny the manifest Advantages of those Illustrious Graces, which raise your Highness so far above theirs as well as your own Sex. In this I have imitated the conduct of prudent Generals, who, when they doubt the sufficiency of their strength, retire to some strong Fort, and rest secure under the Protection of it.  
There is yet another Reason, Madam, which tho' the least justifiable, was nevertheless most prevalent with me to devote this Essay to your Highness. My Ambition to show the profound Respects I have always had for your Highness, would not suffer me to let slip any occasion of expressing it, even though I blush for the means of it. Thus I find myself reduced by my Zeal, to the condition of poor Tenants, who must expose their Poverty, to show their Affection to their Lord in a worthless Present. I am sensible of the rashness of my Ambition in aspiring to the Patronage of Your Highness, and the need I have of an Apology; but were I able to make one as I ought, I should have taken care to have had less occasion for it. Yet I doubt not from Your Goodness that Indulgence, which I cannot expect from Your Justice, nor but that you will (like Heaven, whose more immediate Images Princes are) accept my unprofitable Service, for the sincerity with which it is tendered. If my unfeigned Submission may procure pardon for my Presumption, that Your Happiness may equal Your illustrious Virtues, and Your Royal Person be as far out of the reach of Fortune, as your Fame and Honour of Detraction, shall ever be the prayers of  
Madam, Your Royal Highness' most Humble, most Obedient, and most Devoted Servant   

PREFACE.  
PRefaces to most Books, are like Prolocutors to Puppet-Shows, they come first to tell you what Figures are to be presented, and what Tricks they are to play. According therefore to ancient and laudable Custom, I have thought fit to let you know by way of Preface, or Advertisement, (call it which you please) that here are many fine Figures within to be seen, as well worth your curiosity, as any in Smithfield at Bartholomew Tide. I will not deny, Reader, but that you may have seen some of 'em there already; to those that have, I have little more to say, than that if they have a mind to see them again in Effigy, they may do it here. What is it you would have? Here are St. George's, Batemen, John Dories, Punchinelloes, and the Creation of the World, or what's as good; here's the Germane Artist too, or one that can show more Tricks than he: If all this will not invite you, y'are grown more squeamish of late, Gentlemen, than you used to be, and the poor Bookseller will make but an indifferent Market of you. Well, let the worst come to the worst, 'tis but shifting the scene to Smithfield, and making an Interest in half a dozen Vizor-Masks to be sure of your Company: But he, good Man, is desirous to please you at first hand, and therefore has put a fine Picture in the front to invite you in, so like some of you (as he protests) that you ought never look in a Glass again, if it offends you. For my part, I declare, he has acted clear against my Opinion in this case, and so he has been told; for many a poor Man has lost the showing of his Monster, by gratifying the curiosity of the gaping Crowd with too exact a picture without doors. Besides, there's an unlucky Rogue of a left-handed Barber, that looks like an ill Omen in the beginning. He was told too, that if he would please most of you, he ought to take example by your Glasses and flatter you. Yet he continued obstinate and unmoveable to all these weighty Reasons, and is so fond bend for his Picture, that he resolved against all advice to have it. Nay, and he would have Rhimes underneath it too, which, he says, weigh more with you, than all the Reason in the world. I thought fit to let you know this, that the Bookseller might not lose the credit of his Fancy, if it takes with you, as he is persuaded it will. For you must know, I am a great lover of strict Justice, and therefore would by no means Rob, or Defraud him of the Glory of his Invention, or by any sinister way sully, or diminish the Honour, or Reputation of his Parts and Ingenuity. For the same Reason likewise I must acquaint you, that the Rhimes are none of mine neither; and now my Hand is in, I don't much care if I tell you, that I am not very good at that ingenious Recreation, called Crambo, from which some rise to be very considerable Rhimers. This now is more than I was obliged to tell you, and therefore I hope no body will deny, but that I deal ingenuously at least with you.  
This one would think were Preface sufficient; but there are some Men so impertinently curious, that they must needs have a Reason for every thing, that is done in the World, tho' it were in their favour (for which perhaps it were hard to give a good one) when it were their Interest to be satisfied, and thankful without further enquiry. To comply therefore in some measure with the humour of these People, if any such think fit to peruse this Book, I must tell 'em very freely, that I was so far from aiming to oblige, or disoblige 'em by it, that it was never intended for their View. It was occasioned by a private Conversation, between some Gentlemen and Ladies, and written at the request, and for the Diversion of one Lady more particularly, by whom with my consent it was communicated to two or three more of both Sexes, my Friends likewise.  
By them I was with abundance of Compliments importuned to make it public; now tho' I do with good Reason attribute much more, of what was said to me upon this Occasion, to their good Breeding and Friendship, than to their real Opinions of my Performance; yet I have so much satisfaction in their Sincerity, and Friendship as to be confident they would not suffer, much less persuade me to expose to the world any thing, of which they doubted so far, as to think it would not be tolerably acceptable. Nor have I less assurance of their Judgement and Skill in things of this nature, beside that I have been informed by some of 'em, that it has been seen, and favourably received by some Gentlemen, whom the world thinks no incompetent Judges. After all this Encouragement, I suppose, I shall not be thought vain, if, as I pretend not to the applause, so I fear not the contempt of the world: Yet I presume not so far upon the Merits of what I have written, as to make my Name public with it. I have elsewhere held, that Vanity was almost the universal mover of all our Actions, and consequently of mine, as well as of others; yet it is not strong enough in me, to induce me to bring my Name upon the public stage of the World.  
There are many Reasons, that oblige me to this cautious, reserved way of procedure; tho' I might otherwise be very ambitious of appearing in the defence of my Sex, could I persuade myself, that I was able to write any thing suitable to the dignity of the Subject, which I am not vain enough to think. This indeed is one Reason, because I am sensible it might have been much better defended by abler Pens, such as many among our own Sex are; though I believe scarce thus much would have been expected from me, by those that know me. There is likewise another Reason, which was yet more prevalent with me, and with those few Friends whom I consulted about it, which is this; There are a sort of Men, that upon all occasions think themselves more concerned, and more thought of than they are, and that, like Men that are deaf, or have any other notorious Defect, can see no body whisper, or laugh, but they think 'tis at themselves. These Men are apt to think, that every ridiculous description they meet with, was intended more particularly for some one or other of them; as indeed it is hard to paint any thing complete in their several Kind's, without hitting many of their particular Features, even without drawing from them. The knowledge of this, with the consideration of the tenderness of Reputation in our Sex, (which as our delicatest Fruits and finest Flowers are most obnoxious to the injuries of Wether, is submitted to every infectious Blast of malicious Breath) made me very cautious, how I exposed mine to such poisonous Vapours. I was not ignorant, how liberal some Men are of their Scandal, whenever provoked, especially by a Woman; and how ready the same Men are to be so, though upon never so mistaken Grounds. This made me resolve to keep 'em in Ignorance of my Name, and if they have a mind to find me out, let 'em catch me (if they can) as Children at Blindman's Buff do one another, Hoodwinked; and I am of Opinion I have room enough to put 'em out of Breath before they come near me.  
The Event has in Effect proved my suspicio●s Prophetic; for there are (as I am informed) already some, so forward to interest themselves against me, that they take Characters upon themselves, before they see 'em; and, for fear they should want some Body to throw their Dirt at, with equal Ignorance, and Injustice Father this Piece upon the Gentleman, who was so kind as to take care of the Publication of it, only to excuse me from appearing. This made me once resolve to oppose my Innocence to their Clamour, and perfix my Name, which I thought I was bound to do in Justice to him. In this Resolution I had persisted, had not the very same Gentleman generously persuaded, and overruled me to the contrary, representing how weak a defence Innocence is against Calumny, how open the Ears of all the World are, and how greedily they suck in any thing to ●he prejudice of a Woman; and that (to use his own Expression) the scandal of such Men, was like Dirt thrown by Children, and Fools at random, and without Provocation, it would dawb filthily at first, though it were easily washed off again: Adding, that he desired me not to be under any concern for him; for he valued the Malice of such men, as little, as their Friendship, the one was as feeble, as t'other false.  
I suppose I need make no Apology to my own Sex for the meaness of this defence; the bare intention of serving 'em will (I hope be accepted, and of Men, the Candid and Ingenuous I am sure will not quarrel with me for any thing in this little Book; since there is nothing in it, which was not drawn from the strictest Reason I was Mistress of, and the best Observations I was able to make, except a start or two only concerning the Salic Law, and the Amazons, which, if they divert not the Reader, can't offend him.  
I shall not trouble the Reader with any account of the Method I have observed, he will easily discover that in reading the Piece itself. I shall only take notice to him of one thing, which with a little attention to what he reads he will readily find to be true, that is, that the Characters were not written out of any Wanton Humour, or Malicious Design to characterise any Particular Persons, but to illustrate what I have said upon the several Heads, under which they are ranged, and represent not single Men, but so many Clans, or Divisions of Men, that play the Fool seriously in the World. If any Individual seem to be more peculiarly marked, it is because he is perhaps more notorious to the World, by some one or more Articles of the General Character here given I am sure that there is no Man, who is but moderately Acquainted with the World, especially this Town, but may find half a Dozen, or more Originals for every Picture. After all, if any Man have so little Wit, as to appropriate any of these Characters to himself, He takes a liberty I have hitherto never given him, but shall do it now in the Words of a Great Man, If any Fool finds the Cap fit him, let him put it on.  
There are some Men, (I hear) who will not allow this Piece to be written by a Woman; did I know what Estimate to make of their Judgements, I might perhaps have a higher Opinion of this Trifle, than I ever yet had. For I little thought while I was writing this, that any Man (especially an Ingenious Man) should have the scandal of being the reputed Author. For he must think it scandalous to be made to Father a Woman's Productions unlawfully. But these Gentlemen, I suppose, believe there is more Wit, than they'll find in this Piece, upon the Credit of the Bookseller, whose Interest it is to flatter it. But were it as well written as I could wish it, or as the Subject would bear, and deserves; I see no reason why our Sex should be robbed of the Honour of it; Since there have been Women in all Ages, whose Writings might vie with those of the greatest Men, as the Present Age as well as past can testify. I shall not trouble the Reader with their names, because I would not be thought so vain, as to rank myself among 'em; and their names are already too well known, and celebrated to receive any additional Lustre from so weak Encomiums as mine. I pretend not to imitate, much less to Rival those Illustrious Ladies, who have done so much Honour to their Sex, and are unanswerable Proofs of, what I contend for. I only wish, that some Ladies now living among us (whose names I forbear to mention in regard to their Modesty) would exert themselves, and give us more recent Instances, who are both by Nature and Education sufficiently qualified to do it, which I pretend not to. I freely own to the Reader, that I know no other Tongue besides my Native, except French, in which I am but very moderately skilled. I plead not this to excuse the meaness of my Performance; because I know, I may reasonably be asked, why I was so forward to write; For that I have already given my reasons above, if they will not satisfy the Reader, he must endeavour to please himself with better, for I am very little solicitous about the matter. I shall only add, that for my Good Will I hope the Favour of my own Sex, which will satisfy my Ambition.   

To the Most Ingenious Mrs.— or her Admirable Defence of Her Sex.  
LOng have we sung the Famed Orinda's praise,  
And owned Astrea's Title to the Bays,  
We to their Wit have paid the Tribute due,  
But should be Bankrupt, before just to you.  
Sweet flowing Numbers, and fine Thoughts they writ;  
But you Eternal Truths, as well as Wit.  
In them the Force of Harmony we find,  
In you the Strength, and Vigour of the Mind.  
Dark Clouds of Prejudice obscured their Verse,  
You with Victorious Prose those Clouds disperse;  
Those Fogs, which would not to their Flame submit,  
Vanish before your Rising Sun of Wit.  
Like Stars, they only in Themselves were bright,  
The whole Sex shines by your reflected Light.  
Our Sex have long through Usurpation reigned,  
And by their Tyranny their Rule maintained.  
Till wanton grown with Arbitrary Sway  
Deposed by you They practice to obey,  
Proudly submitting, when such Graces meet,  
Beauty by Nature, and by conquest Wit.  
For Wit they had on their own Sex entailed,  
Till for yourself, and Sex you thus prevailed.  
Thrice happy Sex! Whose Foes such Power disarms,  
And gives fresh Lustre to your native Charms,  
Whose Nervous Sense couched in close Method lies,  
Clear as her Soul, and piercing as her Eyes,  
If any yet so stupid should appear,  
As still to doubt, what she has made so clear,  
Her beauty's Arguments they would allow,  
And to Her Eyes their full Conversion owe.  
And by Experiment the World convince.  
The Force of Reason's less, than that of Sense.  
Your Sex you with such Charming Grace defend,  
While that you vindicate, you Ours amend:  
We in your Glass may see each foul defect.  
And may not only see, but may correct.  
In vain old Greece her Sages would compare,  
They taught what Men should be, you what they are  
With doubtful Notiones they Mankind perplexed,  
And with unpracticable Precept vexed.  
In vain they strove wild Passions to reclaim,  
Uncertain what they were, or whence they came.  
But you, who have found out their certain Source,  
May with a happier Hand divert their Course.  
Themselves so little did those Sages know,  
That to their Failings We their Learning owe.  
Their Vanity first caused 'em to aspire,  
And with fierce Wranglings set all Greece on Fire:  
Thus into sects they split the Grecian youth,  
Contending more for Victory than Truth.  
Your Speculations nobler Ends pursue,  
They aim not to be Popular, but true.  
You with strict Justice in an equal Light,  
Expose both Wit and Folly to our Sight.  
Yet as the Bee secure on Poison feeds,  
Extracting Honey from the rankest Weeds:  
So safely you in Fools Instructours find,  
And Wisdom in the Follies of mankind.  
With purer Waves henceforth shall satire flow,  
And we this change to your chaste Labours owe;  
satire before from a Polluted Source  
Brought Native Filth, augmented in its course.  
No longer muddy shall those Steams appear,  
Which you have purged, and made so sweet, and clear.  
Well may your Wit to us a wonder seem,  
So strong's the Current, yet so ●lear the stream,  
Deep, but not Dull, thro` each transparent Line  
We see the Gems, which at the Bottom shine,  
To your Correction freely we submit,  
Who teach us Modesty, as well as Wit.  
Our Sex with Blushes must your Conquest own,  
While yours prepare the Garlands you have won.  
Your Fame secure long as your Sex shall last,  
Nor Time, nor Envy shall your Laurels blast.  
James Drake   

The Reader is desired to excuse, and correct all Li●eral Escapes, and to amend the following thus.  
Errata.  
PAge 4. l. 10. for Engenia, read Eugenia. p. 10, l. 22. for that, read the, p. 28. l. 16. for Mummy, read Mummy. p. 29. l. 13. for change read chance. p. 32. l. 4. for Repetition, read Repetition. p. 53. l. 4. for Essay, read Aesop. p. 53. l. 13. for Messieurs, read Sieurs. p 60 l. 2. read upon us. p. 84. l. 1. for and these, read th●se. p. 103. l. 23. for little read little. p. 111. l. 12. for ocsicaons, read occasions p. 113. l. for Master, read Mastery. p. 126. l. 20. for as well, read as well as. p. 143. l. 9 for inspire, read inspires.   

AN ESSAY In Defence of the Female Sex, etc.  
THE Conversation we had another's day, makes me, Dear Madam, but more sensible of the unreasonableness of your desire; which obliges me to inform you further upon a Subject, wherein I have more need of your instruction. The strength of Judgement, sprightly Fancy, and admirable Address, you showed upon that Occasion, speak you so perfect a Mistress of that Argument (as I doubt not but you are of any other that you please to engage in) that whoever, would speak or write well on it, ought first to be your Scholar. Yet to let you see how absolutely you may command me, I had rather be your Echo, than be silent when You bid me speak, and beg your excuse rather for my Failures, than want of Complacence. I know You will not accuse me for a Plagiary if I return You nothing, but what I have gleaned from You, when You consider, that I pretend not to make a Present, but to pay the Interest only of a Debt. Nor can You tax me with Vanity, since no Importunity of a Person less loved, or valued by me than yourself could have extorted thus much from me. This Consideration leaves me no room to doubt but that you will with your usual Candour pardon those Defects, and correct those Errors, which proceed only from an over forward Zeal to oblige You, though to my own Disadvantage.  
The defence of our Sex against so many and so great Wits as have so strongly at acked it, may justly seem a Task too difficult for a Woman man to attempt. Not that I can, or aught to yield, that we are by Nature less enabled for such an Enterpize, than Men are; which I hope at least to show plausible Reasons for, before I have done: But because through the Usurpation of Men, and the Tyranny of Custom (here in England especially) there are at most but few, who are by Education, and acquired Wit, or Letters sufficiently qualified for such an Undertaking. For my own part I shall readily own, that as few as there are, there may be and are abundance, who in their daily Conversations approve themselves much more able, and sufficient Assertors of our Cause, than myself; and I am sorry that either their Business, their other Diversions, or too great Indulgence of their Ease, hinder them from doing public Justice to their Sex. The Men by Interest or Inclination are so generally engaged against us, that it is not to be expected, that any one Man of Wit should arise so generous as to engage in our Quarrel, and be the Champion of our Sex against the Injuries and Oppressions of his own. Those Romantic days are over, and there is not so much as a Don Quixot of the Quill left to succour the distressed Damsels. 'Tis true, a Faint of something of this Nature was made three or four Years since by one; but how much soever his Engenia may be obliged to him, I am of Opinion the rest of her Sex are but little beholding to him. For as you rightly observed, Madam, he has taken more care to give an Edge to his satire, than force to his Apology; he has played a shame Prize, and receives more thrusts than he makes; and like a false Renegade fights under our Colours only for a fairer Opportunity of betraying us. But what could be expected else from a Beau? An Animal that can no more commend in earnest a Woman's Wit, than a Man's Person, and that compliments ours, only to show his own good Breeding and Parts. He levels his Scandal at the whole Sex, and thinks us sufficiently fortified, if out of the Story of Two Thousand Years he has been able to pick up a few Examples of Women illustrious for their Wit, Learning or Virtue, and Men infamous for the contrary; though I think the most inveterate of our Enemies would have spared him that labour, by granting that all Ages have produced Persons famous or infamous of both Sexes; or they must throw up all pretence to Modesty, or Reason.  
I have neither Learning, nor Inclination to make a Precedent, or indeed any use of Mr. W's. laboured Common Place Book; and shall leave Pedants and Schoolboys to rake and tumble the Rubbish of Antiquity, and muster all the Heroes and Heroines they can find to furnish matter for some wretched Harangue, or stuff a miserable Declamation with instead of Sense or Argument.  
I shall not enter into any dispute, 
Some advantages to be allowed to the disparity of Education.  whether Men, or Women be generally more ingenious, or learned; that Point must be given up to the advantages Men have over us by their Education, Freedom of Converse, and variety of Business and Company. But when any Comparison is made between 'em, great allowances must be made for the disparity of those Circumstances. Neither shall I contest about the pre-eminence of our Virtues; I know there are too many Vicious, and I hope there are a great many Virtuous of both Sexes. Yet this I may say, that whatever Vices are found amongst us, have in general both their source, and encouragement from them.  
The Question I shall at present handle is, whether the time an ingenious Gentleman spends in the Company of Women, may justly be said to be misemployed, or not? I put the question in general terms; because whoever holds the affirmative must maintain it so, or the Sex is no way concerned to oppose him. On the other side I shall not maintain the Negative, but with some Restrictions and Limitations; because I will not be bound to justify those Women, whose Vices and ill Conduct expose them deservedly to the Censure of the other Sex, as well as of their own. The Question being thus stated, let us consider the end and purposes, for which Conversation was at first instituted, and is yet desirable; and then we shall see, whether they may not all be found in the Company of Women. These Ends, I take it, are the same with those we aim at in all our other Actions, in general only two, Profit or Pleasure. These are divided into those of the Mind, and those of the Body. Of the latter I shall take no further Notice, as having no Relation to the present Subject; but shall confine myself wholly to the Mind, the Profit of which is the Improvement of the Understanding, and the Pleasure is the Diversion, and Relaxation of its Cares and Passions. Now if either of these Ends be attainable by the Society of Women, I have gained my Point. However, I hope to make it appear, that they are not only both to be met with in the Conversation of Women, but one of them more generally, and in greater measure than in men's.  
Our Company is generally by our Adversaries represented as unprofitable and irksome to Men of Sense, and by some of the more vehement Sticklers against us, as Criminal. These Imputations as they are unjust, especially the latter, so they savour strongly of the Malice, Arrogance and Sottishness of those, that most frequently urge 'em; who are commonly either conceited Fops, whose success in their Pretences to the favour of our Sex has been no greater than their Merit, and fallen very far short of their Vanity and Presumption, or a sort of morose, ill-bred, unthinking Fellows, who appear to be Men only by their Habit and Beards, and are scarce distinguishable from Brutes but by their Figure and Risibility. But I shall wave these Reflections at present, however just, and come closer to our Argument. If Women are not qualified for the Conversation of ingenious Men, or, to go yet further, their friendship, it must be because they want some one condition, or more, necessarily requisite to either. The necessary Conditions of these are Sense, and good nature, to which must be added, for Friendship, Fidelity and Integrity. Now if any of these be wanting to our Sex, it must be either because Nature has not been so liberal as to bestow 'em upon us; or because due care has not been taken to cultivate those Gifts to a competent measure in us.  
The first of these Causes is that, which is most generally urged against us, whether it be in Raillery, or Spite. I might easily cut this part of the Controversy short by an irrefragable Argument, which is, that the express intent, and reason for which Woman was created, was to be a Companion, and help meet to Man; and that consequently those, that deny 'em to be so, must argue a Mistake in Providence, and think themselves wiser than their Creator. But these Gentlemen are generally such passionate Admirers of themselves, and have such a profound value and reverence for their own Parts, that they are ready at any time to sacrifice their Religion to the Reputation of their Wit, and rather than lose their point, deny the truth of the History. There are others, that though they allow the Story yet affirm, that the propagation, and continuance of Mankind, was the only Reason for which we were made; as if the Wisdom that first made Man, could not without trouble have continued that Species by the same or any other Method, had not this been most conducive to his happiness, which was the gracious and only end of his Creation. But these superficial Gentlemen wear their Understandings like their Clothes, always set and formal, and would no more Talk than Dress out of Fashion; Beau's that, rather than any part of their outward Figure should be damaged, would wipe the dirt of their shoes with their Handkerchief, and that value themselves infinitely more upon modish Nonsense, than upon the best Sense against the Fashion. But since I do not intend to make this a religious Argument, I shall leave all further Considerations of this Nature to the Divines, whose more immediate Business and Study it is to assert the Wisdom of Providence in the Order, and distribution of this World, against all that shall oppose it.  
To proceed therefore if we be naturally defective, 
No distinction of Sexes in Souls.  the Defect must be either in Soul or Body. In the Soul it can't be, if what I have heard some learned Men maintain, be true, that all Souls are equal, and alike, and that consequently there is no such distinction, as Male and Female Souls; that there are no innate Ideas, but that all the Notions we have, are derived from our External Senses, either immediately, or by Reflection. These Metaphysical Speculations, I must own Madam, require much more Learning and a stronger Head, than I can pretend to be Mistress of, to be considered as they ought: Yet so bold I may be, as to undertake the defence of these Opinions, when any of our jingling Opponents think fit to refute 'em.  
Neither can it be in the Body, 
No advantage in the Organization of their Bodies.  (if I may credit the Report of learned Physicians) for there is no difference in the Organization of those Parts, which have any relation to, or influence over the Minds; but the Brain, and all other Parts (which I am not Anatomist enough to name) are contrived as well for the plentiful conveyance of Spirits, which are held to be the immediate Instruments of Sensation, in Women, as Men. I see therefore no natural Impediment in the structure of our Bodies; nor does Experience, or Observation argue any: We use all our Natural Faculties, as well as Men, nay and our Rational too, deducting only for the advantages before mentioned.  
Let us appeal yet further to Experience, 
Confirmed from Experience of Brutes.  and observe those Creatures that deviate least from simple Nature, and see if we can find any difference in Sense, or understanding between Males and Females. In these we may see Nature plainest, who lie under no constraint of Custom or Laws, but those of Passion or Appetite, which are Natures, and know no difference of Education, nor receive any Bias by prejudice. We see great distance in Degrees of Understanding, Wit, Cunning and Docility (call them what you please) between the several Species of Brutes. An Ape, a Dog, a Fox, are by daily Observation found to be more Docile, and more Subtle than an Ox, a Swine, or a Sheep. But a She Ape is as full of, and as ready at Imitation as a He: a Bitch will learn as many Tricks in as short a time as a Dog, a Female Fox has as many Wiles as a Male. A thousand instances of this kind might be produced; but I think these are so plain, that to instance more were a superfluous labour; I shall only once more take notice, that in Brutes and other Animals there is no difference betwixt Male and Female in point of Sagacity, notwithstanding there is the same distinction of Sexes, that is between Men and Women. I have read, that some Philosophers have held Brutes to be no more than mere Machine's, a sort of Divine Clockwork, that Act only by the force of nice unseen Springs without Sensation, and cry out without feeling Pain, Eat without Hunger, Drink without Thirst, fawn upon their Keepers without seeing 'em, hunt Hares without Smelling, etc. Here Madam is cover for our Antagonists against the last Argument so thick, that there is no beating 'em out. For my part, I shall not envy 'em their refuge, let 'em lie like the wild Irish secure within their Bogs; the field is at lest ours, so long as they keep to their Fastnesses. But to quit this Topick, I shall only add, that if the learnedest He of 'em all can convince me of the truth of this Opinion, He will very much stagger my Faith; for hitherto I have been able to observe no difference between our Knowledge and theirs, but a gradual one; and depend upon Revelation alone, that our Souls are Immortal, and theirs not.  
But if an Argument from Brutes and other Animals shall not be allowed as conclusive, 
Experience of Mankind.  (though I can't see, why such an Inference should not be valid, since the parity of Reason is the same on both sides in this Case.) I shall desire those, that hold against us to observe the Country People, I mean the inferior sort of them, such as not having Stocks to follow Husbandry upon their own Score, subsist upon their daily Labour. For amongst these, though not so equal as that of Brutes, yet the Condition of the two Sexes is more level, than amongst Gentlemen, City Traders, or rich Yeomen. Examine them in their several Businesses, and their Capacities will appear equal; but talk to them of things indifferent, and out of the Road of their constant Employment, and the Balance will fall on our side, the Women will be found the more ready and polite. Let us look a little further, and view our Sex in a state of more improvement, amongst our Neighbours the Dutch. There we shall find them managing not only the Domestic Affairs of the Family, but making, and receiving all Payments as well great as small, keeping the Books, balancing the Accounts, and doing all the Business, even the nicest of Merchants, with as much Dexterity and Exactness as their, or our Men can do. And I have often heard some of our considerable Merchants blame the conduct of our Countrymen in this point; that they breed our Women so ignorant of Business; whereas were they taught Arithmetic, and other Arts which require not much bodily strength, they might supply the places of abundance of lusty Men now employed in sedentary Business; which would be a mighty profit to the Nation by sending those Men to Employments, where hands and Strength are more required, especially at this time when we are in such want of People. Beside that it might prevent the ruin of many Families, which is often occasioned by the Death of Merchants in full Business, and leaving their Accounts perplexed, and embroiled to a Widow and Orphans, who understanding nothing of the Husband or Father's Business occasions the Rending, and oftentimes the utter Confounding a fair Estate; which might be prevented, did the Wife but understand Merchants Accounts, and were made acquainted with the Books.  
I have yet another Argument from Nature, which is, that the very Make and Temper of our Bodies show that we were never designed for Fatigue; and the Vivacity of our Wits, and Readiness of our Invention (which are confessed even by our Adversaries) demonstrate that we were chiefly intended for Thought and the Exercise of the Mind. Whereas on the contrary it is apparent from the strength and size of their Limbs, the Vigour and Hardiness of their Constitutions, that Men were purposely framed and contrived for Action, and Labour. And herein the Wisdom and Contrivance of Providence is abundantly manifested; for as the one Sex is fortified with Courage and Ability to undergo the necessary Drudgery of providing Materials for the sustenance of Life in both; so the other is furnished with Ingenuity and Prudence for the orderly management and distribution of it, for the Relief and Comfort of a Family; and is over and above enriched with a peculiar Tenderness and Care requisite to the Cherishing their poor helpless Offspring. I know our Opposers usually miscall our quickness of Thought, Fancy and Flash, and christian their own heaviness by the specious Names of Judgement and Solidity; but it is easy to retort upon 'em the reproachful Ones of Dullness and Stupidity with more Justice. I shall pursue this Point no further, but continue firm in my Persuasion, that Nature has not been so Niggardly to us, as our Adversaries would insinuate, till I see better cause to the contrary, than I have hitherto at any time done. Yet I am ready to yield to Conviction, whoever offers it; which I done't suddenly expect.  
It remains then for us to inquire, whether the Bounty of Nature be wholly neglected, or stifled by us, or so far as to make us unworthy the Company of Men? Or whether our Education (as bad as it is) be not sufficient to make us a useful, nay a necessary part of Society for the greatest part of Mankind. This cause is seldom indeed urged against us by the Men, though it be the only one, that gives 'em any advantage over us in understanding. But it does not serve their Pride, there is no Honour to be gained by it: For a Man ought no more to value himself upon being Wiser than a Woman, if he owe his Advantage to a better Education, and greater means of Information, than he ought to boast of his Courage, for beating a Man, when his Hands were bound. Nay it would be so far from Honourable to contend for preference upon this Score, that they would thereby at once argue themselves guilty both of Tyranny, and of Fear: I think I need not have mentioned the latter; 
〈…〉  for none can be Tyrants but Cowards. For nothing makes one Party slavishly depress another, but their fear that they may at one time or other become Strong or Courageous enough to make themselves equal to, if not superior to their Masters. This is our Case; for Men being sensible as well of the Abilities of Mind in our Sex, as of the strength of Body in their own, began to grow Jealous, that we, who in the Infancy of the World were their Equals and Partners in Dominion, might in process of Time, by Subtlety and Stratagem, become their Superiors; and therefore began in good time to make use of Force (the Origine of Power) to compel us to a Subjection, Nature never meant; and made use of Nature's liberality to them to take the benefit of her kindness from us. From that time they have endeavoured to train us up altogether to Ease and Ignorance; as Conquerors use to do to those, they reduce by Force, that so they may disarm 'em, both of Courage and Wit; and consequently make them tamely give up their Liberty, and abjectly submit their Necks to a slavish Yoke. As the World grew more Populous, and men's Necessities whetted their Inventions, so it increased their Jealousy, and sharpened their Tyranny over us, till by degrees, it came to that height of Severity, I may say Cruelty, it is now at in all the Eastern parts of the World, where the Women, like our Negroes in our Western Plantations, are born slaves, and live Prisoners all their Lives. Nay, so far has this barbarous Humour prevailed, and spread itself, that in some parts of Europe, which pretend to be most refined and civilised, in spite of Christianity, and the Zeal for Religion which they so much affect, our Condition is not very much better. And even in France, a Country that treats our Sex with more Respect than most do, 
Original of the Salic Law.  We are by the Salic Law excluded from Sovereign Power. The French are an ingenious People, and the Contrivers of that Law knew well enough, that We were no less capable of Reigning, and Governing well, than themselves; but they were suspicious, that if the Regal Power should fall often into the hands of Women, they would favour their own Sex, and might in time restore 'em to their Primitive Liberty and Equality with the Men, and so break the neck of that unreasonable Authority they so much affect over us; and therefore made this Law to prevent it. The Historians indeed tell us other Reasons, but they can't agree among themselves, and as Men are Parties against us, and therefore their Evidence may justly be rejected. To say the truth Madam, I can't tell how to prove all this from Ancient Records; for if any Histories were anciently written by Women, Time, and the Malice of Men have effectually conspired to suppress 'em; and it is not reasonable to think that Men should transmit, or suffer to be transmitted to Posterity, any thing that might show the weakness and illegallity of their Title to a Power they still exercise so arbitrarily, and are so fond of. But since daily Experience shows, and their own Histories tell us, how earnestly they endeavour, and what they act, and suffer to put the same Trick upon one another, 'tis natural to suppose they took the same measures with us at first, which now they have effected, like the Rebels in our last Civil Wars, when they had brought the Royal Party under, they fall together by the Ears about the Dividend. 
Amazons; why they rejected the Society of Men.  The Sacred History takes no notice of any such Authority they had before the Flood, and their Own confess that whole Nations have rejected it since, and not suffered a Man to live amongst them, which could be for no other Reason, than their Tyranny. For upon less provocation the Women would never have been so foolish, as to deprive themselves of the benefit of that Ease▪ and Security, which a good agreement with their Men might have afforded 'em. 'Tis true the same Histories tell us, that there were whole Countries where were none but Men, which bordered upon 'em. But this makes still for us; for it shows that the Conditions of their Society were not so easy, as to engage their Women to stay amongst 'em; but as liberty presented itself, they withdrew and retired to the Amazons: But since our Sex can hardly boast of so great Privileges, and so easy a Servitude any where as in England, I cut this ungrateful Digression short in acknowledgement; tho' Fetters of Gold are still Fetters, and the softest Lining can never make 'em so easy, as Liberty.  
You will excuse, I know Madam, this short, but necessary Digression. I call it necessary, because it shows a probable Reason, why We are at this time in such subjection to them, without lessening the Opinion of our Sense, or Natural Capacities either at present, or for the time past; beside that it briefly lays open without any Scandal to our Sex, why our Improvements are at present so disproportioned to those of Men. I would not have any of our little, unthinking Adversaries triumph at my allowing a disproportion between the Improvements of our Sex and theirs; and I am sure those of 'em that are ingenious Men, will see no reason for it from what I have said.  
After having granted so great a disparity as I have already done in the customary Education, and advantageous Liberties of the Sexes, 'twere Nonsense to maintain, that our Society is generally and upon all accounts as Beneficial, Improving and Entertaining, as that of Men. He must be a very shallow Fellow, that resorts to, and frequents us in hopes by our means to make himself considerable as a Scholar, a Mathematician, a Philosopher, or a Statesman. These Arts and Sciences are the result only of much Study and great Experience; and without one at least of 'em are no more to be acquired by the Company of Men, however celebrated for any or all of them, than by ours. But there are other qualifications, which are as indispensably necessary to a Gentleman, or any Man that would appear to Advantage in the World, which are attainable only by Company, and Conversation, and chiefly by ours. Nor can the greatest part of Mankind, of what Quality soever, boast much of the use they make, or the benefit they reap from these acknowledged Advantages. So that Scholars only, and some few of the more thinking Gentlemen, and Men of Business have any just claim to 'em. And of these the first generally fall short enough some other way to make the Balance even. 
Character of a Pedant.  For Scholars, though by their acquaintance with Books, and conversing much with Old Authors, they may know perfectly the Sense of the Learned Dead, and be perfect Masters of the Wisdom, be throughly informed of the State, and nicely skilled in the Policies of Ages long since past, yet by their retired and unactive Life, their neglect of Business, and constant Conversation with Antiquity, they are such Strangers to, and so ignorant of the Domestic Affairs and manners of their own Country and Times, that they appear like the Ghosts of Old Romans raised by Magic. Talk to them of the Assyrian, or Perssian Monarchies, the Grecians or Roman Commonwealths. They answer like Oracles, they are such finished State-men, that we should scarce take 'em to have been less than Confifidents of Semiramis, Tutors to Cyrus the great, old Cronies of Solon and Lycurgus, or Privy Counsellors at least to the Twelve Coesars successively; but engage them in a Discourse that concerns the present Times, and their Native Country, and they heardly speak the Language of it, and know so little of the affairs of it, that as much might reasonably be expected from an animated Egyptian Mummy. They are very much disturbed to see a Fold or a Plait s in the Picture of an Old Roman Gown, yet take no notice that their own are threadbare out at the Elbows, or Ragged, and suffer more if Priscian's Head be broken then if it were their own. They are excellent Guides, and can direct you to every Ally, and turning in old Rome; yet lose their way at home in their own Parish. They are mighty admirers of the Wit and Eloquence of the Ancients; yet had they lived in the time of Cicero, and Caesar would have treated them with as much supercilious Pride, and disrespect as they do now with Reverence. They are great hunters of ancient Manuscripts, and have in great Veneration any thing, that has scaped the Teeth of Time and Rats, and if Age have obliterated the Characters, 'tis the more valuable for not being legible. But if by chance they can pick out one Word, they rate it higher than the whole Author in Print, and would give more for one Proverb of solomon's under his own Hand, then for all his Wisdom. These Superstitious, bigoted Idolaters of time past, are Children in their understanding all their lives; for they hang so incessantly upon the leading Strings of Authority, that their Judgements like the Limbs of some Indian Penitents, become altogether cramped and motionless for waut of use.  
But as these Men, will hardly be reckoned much superior to us upon the account of their Learning or Improvements, so neither will I suppose another sort diametrically opposite to these in their Humours and Opinions: 
Character of a Country Squire.  I mean those whose Ancestors have been wise and provident, and raised Estates by their Ingenuity and Industry, and given all their Posterity after 'em Means, and Leisure to be Fools. These are generally sent to School in their Minority, and were they kept there till they came to Years of Discretion, might most of 'em stay, till they could tuck their Beards into their Girdles before they left carrying a Satchel. In conformity to Custom, and the Fashion, they are sent early to serve an Apprenticeship to Letters, and for eight or nine years are whipped up and down through two or three Counties from School to School; when being arrived a Sixteen, or Seventeen Years of Age, and having made the usual Tour of Latin, and Greek Authors, they are called Home to be made Gentlemen. As soon as the young Squire has got out of the House of Bondage, shaken off the awe of Birch, and begins to feel himself at Liberty, he considers that he is now Learned enough, (and 'tis ten to one but his Friends are wise enough to be of his Opinion) and thinks it high time to shake off the barbarous Acquaintance he contracted, with those crabbed, vexatious, obscure Fellows, that gave him so much trouble and smart at School, Companions by no means fit for a Gentleman, that writ only to torment and perplex poor Boys, and exercise the tyranny of Pedants and Schoolmasters. These prudent resolutions taken, his Conversation for some years succeeding is wholly taken up by his Horses, Dogs and Hawks (especially if his Residence be in the Country) and the more senseless Animals that tend 'em. His Groom, his Huntsman, and his Falconer are his Tutors, and his walk is from the Stable to the Dog-kennel, and the reverse of it. His diversion is drudgery, and he is in highest satisfaction when he is most tired. He wearies you in the Morning with his Sport, in the Afternoon with the noisy Repetion and Drink, and the whole Day with Fatigue and Confusion. His Entertainment is stale Beer, and the History of his Dogs and Horses, in which he gives you the Pedigree of every one with all the exactness of a Herald; and if you be very much in his good Graces, 'tis odds, but he makes you the Compliment of a Puppy of one of his favourite Bitch's, which you must take with abundance of Acknowledgements of his Civility, or else he takes you for a stupid, as well as an ill bred Fellow. He is very constant at all Clubs and Meetings of the Country Gentlemen, where he will suffer nothing to be talked or heard of but his Jades, his Curs, and his Kites. Upon these he rings perpetual Changes, and trespasses as much upon the patience of the Company in the Tavern, as upon their Enclosures in the Field, and is least impertinent, when most drunk.  
His grand Business is to make an Assignation for a Horse Race; or a Hunting Match, and nothing discomposes him so much as a Disappointment. Thus accomplished, and finished for a Gentleman, he enters the Civil Lists, and holds the Scale of Justice with as much Blindness as she is said to do. From hence forward his Worship becomes as formidable to the Alehouses, as he was before Familiar; he sizes an Ale Pot, and takes the dimensions of Bread with great Dexterity and Sagacity. He is the terror of all the Deer, and Poultry Stealers in the Neighbourhood, and is so implacable a Persecutor of Poachers, that he keeps a Register of all the Dogs and Guns in the Hundred, and is the Scare-Beggar of the Parish. Short Pots, and unjustifiable Dogs and Nets, furnish him with sufficient matter for Presentments, to carry him once a Quarter to the Sessions; where he says little, Eats and Drinks much, and after Dinner, Hunts over the last Chase, and so rides Worshipfully Drunk home again. At home he Exercises his Authority in granting his Letters, Patents to Petitioners for erecting Shovel Board, Tables and Ginger Bread Stalls. If he happen to live near any little Borough or Corporation that sends Burgesses to Parliament, he may become ambitious and sue for the Honour of being made their Representative. Henceforward he grows Popular, bows to, and treats the Mob all round him; and whether there be any in his Discourse or not, there is good Sense in his Kitchen and his Cellar, which is more agreeable and edifying. If he be so happy as to out-tap his Competitour, and Drink his Neighbours into an Opinion of his Sobriety, he is chosen, and up he comes to that Honourable Assembly, where he shows his Wisdom best by his Silence, and serves his Country most in his absence.  
I give you these two Characters, Madam, as irreconcilable as Water and Oil, to show that Men may and do often Baffle and Frustrate the Effects of a liberal Education, as well by Industry as Negligence. 'Tis hard to say, which of these two is the more Sottish; the first is such an Admirer of Le●ters, that he thinks it a disparagement to his Learning to talk what other Men understand, and will scarce believe that two, and two, make four, under a Demonstration from Euclid, or a Quotation of Aristotle: The latter has such a fear of Pedantry always before his Eyes, that he thinks it a Scandal to his good Breeding, and Gentility to talk Sense, or write true English; and has such a contemptible Notion of his past Education, that he thinks the Roman Poets good for nothing but to teach Boys to cap Verses. For my Part I think the Learned, and Unlearned Blockhead pretty equal; for 'tis all one to me, whether a Man talk Nonsense, or Unintelligible Sense, I am diverted and edified alike by either; the one enjoys himself less, but suffers his Friends to do it more; the other enjoys himself and his own Humour enough, but will let no body else do it in his Company. Thus, Madam, I have set them before You, and shall leave you to determine a Point, which I cannot.  
There are others that deserve to be brought into the Company of these upon like Honourable Reasons; 
The Education of the Female Sex not so deficient as commonly thought.  but I keep them in reserve for a proper place, where I may perhaps take the Pains to draw their Pictures to the Life at full length. Let us now return to our Argument, from which we have had a long breathing while. Let us look into the manner of our Education, and see wherein it falls short of the men's, and how the defects of it may be, and are generally supplied. In our tender years they are the same, for after Children can Talk, they are promiscuously taught to Read and Write by the same Persons, and at the same time both Boys and Girls. When these are acquired, which is generally about the Age of Six or Seven Years, they begin to be separated, and the Boys are sent to the Grammar School, and the Girls to Boarding Schools, or other places, to learn Needle Work, Dancing, Singing, Music, Drawing, Painting, and other Accomplishments, according to the Humour and Ability of the Parents, or Inclination of the Children. Of all these, Reading and Writing are the main Instruments of Conversation; though Music and Painting may be allowed to contribute something towards it, as they give us an insight into two Arts, that makes up a great Part of the Pleasures and Diversions of Mankind. Here then lies the main Defect, that we are taught only our Mother Tongue, or perhaps French, which is now very fashionable, and almost as Familiar amongst Women of Quality as Men; whereas the other Sex by means of a more extensive Education to the knowledge of the Roman and Greek Languages, have a vaster Field for their Imaginations to rove in, and their Capacities thereby enlarged. To see whether this be strictly true or not. I mean in what relates to our debate, I will for once suppose, that we are instructed only in our own Tongue, and then inquire whether the disadvantage be so great as it is commonly imagined. You know very well, Madam, that for Conversation, it is not requisite we should be Philologers, Rhetoricians, Philosophers, Historians or Poets; but only that we should think pertinently and express our thoughts properly, on such matters as are the proper Subjects for a mixed Conversation. The Italians, a People as delicate in their Conversation as any in the World, have a Maxim that ourselves, our Neighbours, Religion, or Business ought never to be the Subject. There are very substantial Reasons, 
〈…〉  to be given for these Restrictions for Men are very apt to be vain, and impertinent, when they talk of themselves, besides that others are very jealous, and apt to suspect, that all the good things said, are intended as so many arguments of preference to them. When they speak of their Neighbours, they are apt out of a Principle of Emulation and Envy, natural to all the race of Adam to lessen, and tarnish their Fame, whether by open Scandal, and Defamatory Stories, and Tales, or by malicious Insinuations, invidious Circumstances, sinister and covert Reflections. This humour springs from an over fondness of ourselves, and a mistaken conceit that another's loss is an addition to our own Reputation, as if like two Buckets, one must necessarily rise as the other goes down. This is the basest and most ungenerous of all our natural Failures, and aught to be corrected as much as possible ev'ry where; but more especially in Italy, where Resentments are carried so high, and Revenges prosecuted with so much Heat, and Animosity. Religion is likewise very tender there, as in all other places, where the Priests have so much Power and Authority. But even here, where our differences and Disputes have made it more tame, and used it to rough handling, it ought carefully to be avoided; for nothing raises unfriendly warmths among Company more than a religious Argument, which therefore ought to be banished all Society intended only for Conversation and Diversion. Business is too dry and barren to give any Spirit to Conversation, or Pleasure to a Company, and is therefore rather to be reckoned among the Encumbrances than Comforts of Life, however necessary. Besides these, Points of Learning, abstruse Speculations, and nice Politics, aught, in my opinion, to be excluded; because being things that require much Reading and Consideration, they are not fit to be canvased ex tempore in mixed Company, of which 'tis probable the greatest part will have little to say to 'em, and will scarce be content to be silent Hearers only; besides that they are not in their nature gay enough to awaken the good Humour, or raise the Mirth of the Company. Nor need any one to fear, that by these limitations Conversation should be restrained to too narrow a compass, there are subjects enough that are in themselves neither insipid, nor offensive; such as Love, Honour, Gallantry, Morality, News, Raillery, and a numberless train of other Things copious and diverting. Now I can't see the necessity of any other Tongue beside our own to enable us to talk plausibly, or judiciously upon any of these Topics: Nay, I am very confident that 'tis possible for an ingenious Person to make a very considerable progress in most parts of Learning, by the help of English only. 
Great Improvements to be made by the help of English Books only.  For the only reason I can conceive of learning Languages, is to arrive at the Sense, Wit or Arts, that have been communicated to the World in 'em. Now of those that have taken the pains to make themselves Masters of those Treasures, many have been so generous as to impart a share of 'em to the Public, by Translations for the use of the Unlearned; and I flatter myself sometimes, that several of these were more particularly undertaken by Ingenious, good Natured Men in Kindness and Compassion to our Sex. But whatever the Motives were, the obliging Humour has so far prevailed, that scarce any thing either Ancient or Modern that might be of general use either for Pleasure, or Instruction is left untouched, and most of them are made entirely free of our Tongue. I am no Judge either of the Accuracy, or Elegance of such Performances; but if I may credit the report of Learned and Ingenious Gentlemen, (whose Judgement or Sincerity I have no reason to question) many of those excellent Authors have lost nothing by the change of Soil. I can see and admire the Wit and Fancy of Ovid in the Translation of his Epistles, and Elegies, the softness and Passion of Tibullus, the Impetuosity and Fire of Juvenal, the Gaiety, Spirit and Judgement of Horace; who, though he may appear very different from himself through the diversity, and inequality of the Hands concerned in making him speak English, yet may easily be guessed at from the several excellent Pieces rendered by the Earl of Roscommon, Mr. Cowley, Mr. Dryden, Mr. Congreve, Mr. Brown and other ingenious Gentlemen, who have obliged the Nation with their excellent Versions of some parts of him. Nor is it possible to be insensible of the sweetness and Majesty of Virgil, after having read those little but Divine Samples already made Public in English by Mr. Dryden, which gives us so much Impatience to see the whole Work entire by that admirable Hand. I have heard some ingenious Gentlemen say, That it was impossible to do Justice in our Tongue to these two last Celebrated Roman Poets, and and I have known others, of whose Judgements I have as high an Opinion, affirm the contrary; my ignorance of Latin disables me from determining whether we are in the right, but the Beauty of what I have already seen by the means of those Gentlemen, has so far prejudiced me in favour of the latter; that might I have 'em entire from the same hands, I think I should scarce envy those who can taste the pleasure of the Originals. Nor is it to the Poets only, that we stand indebted for the Treasure of Antiquity, we have no less Engagements to those, who have successfully laboured in Prose, and have mads us familiar with Plutarch, Seneca, Cicero, and in general with all the famous Philosophers, Orators and Historians, from whom we may at once learn both the Opinions and Practices of their Times. Assisted by these helps, 'tis impossible for any Woman to be ignorant that is but desirous to be otherwise, though she know no part of Speech out of her Mother Tongue. But these are neither the only, nor the greatest Advantages we have; all that is excellent in France, Italy, or any of our neighbouring Nations is now become our own; to one of whom, I may be bold to say, we are beholding for more, and greater Improvements of Conversation, than to all Antiquity, and the learned Languages together. 
The name of Learning unjustly restrained to the knowledge of Latin and Greek only.  Nor can I imagine for what good Reason a Man skilled in Latin and Greek, and versed in the Authors of Ancient Times shall be called Learned; yet another who perfectly understands Italian, French, Spanish, High Dutch, and the rest of the European Languages, is acquainted with the Modern History of all those Countries, knows their Policies, has dived into all the Intrigues of the several Courts, and can tell their mutual Dispositions, Obligations and Ties of Interest one to another, shall after all this be thought Unlearned for want of those two Languages. Nay, though he be never so well versed in the Modern Philosophy, Astornomy, Geometry and Algebra, he shall notwithstanding never be allowed that honourble Title. I can see but one apparent Reason for this unfair Procedure; which is, that when about an Age and an half ago, all the poor Remains of Learning then in Being, were in the hands of the Schoolmen; they would suffer none to pass Muster, that were not deeply engaged in those intricare, vexatious and unintelligble Trifles, for which themselves contended with so much Noise and Heat; or at least were not acquainted with Plato and Aristotle, and their Commentators; from whence the Sophistry and Subtleties of the Schools at that time were drawn. This Usurpation was maintained by their Successors, the Divines, who to this day pretend almost to the Monopoly of Learning; and though some generous Spirits have in good measure broke the neck of this Arbitrary, Tyrannical Authority; yet can't they prevail to extend the name of Learning beyond the Studies, in which the Divines are more particularly conversant. Thus you shall have 'em allow a Man to be a wise Man, a good Naturalist, a good Mathematician, Politician, or Poet, but not a Scholar, a learned Man, that is no Philologer. For my part I think these Gentlemen have just inverted the use of the Term, and given that to the knowledge of words, which belongs more properly to Things. I take Nature to be the great Book of Universal Learning, which he that reads best in all or any of its Parts, is the greatest Scholar, the most learned Man; and 'tis as ridiculous for a Man to count himself more learned than another, if he have no greater extent of knowledge of things, because he is more versed in Languages; as it would be for an Old Fellow to tell a Young One, his Eyes were better than his, because he Reads with Spectacles, the other without.  
Thus, 
English Books the best helps to Conversation.  Madam, you see we may come in Time to put in for Learning, if we have a mind, without falling under the Correction of Pedants. But I will let Learning alone at present, because I have already banished it (though not out of disrespect) from mixed Conversation; to which we will return, and of which the greatest Magazines and Supports are still in Reserve. I mean the many excellent Authors of our own Country, whose Works it were endless to recount. Where is Love, Honour and Bravery more lively represented than in our Tragedies, who has given us Nobler, or juster Pictures of Nature than Mr. Shakespeare? Where is there a tenderer Passion, than in the Maid's Tragedy? Whose Grief is more awful and commanding than Mr. Otways? Whose Descriptions more Beautiful, or Thoughts more Gallant than Mr. Drydens? When I see any of their Plays acted, my Passions move by their Direction, my Indignation, my Compassion, my my Grief are all at their Beck. Nor is our Comedy at all inferior to our Tragedy; for, not to mention those already named for the other part of the Stage, who are all excellent in this too, Sir George Etherege and Sir Charles Sedley for neat Raillery and Gallantry are without Rivals, Mr. Wicherley for strong Wit, pointed satire, sound and useful Observations is beyond Imitation; Mr. Congreve for sprightly, gentile, easy Wit falls short of no Man. These are the Masters of the Stage; but there are others who though of an inferior Class, yet deserve Commendation, were that at present my Business. Nay, even the worst of 'em afford us some diversion; for I find a sort of foolish Pleasure, and can laugh at Mr. D—y's Farce, as I do at the Tricks, and Impertinencies of a Monkey; and was pleased to see the humour and delight of the Author in Mr. ns Eating, and Drinking Play which I fancied was written in a Victualling House. In short, were it not for the too great frequency of loose Expressions, and wanton Images, I should take our theatres for the best Schools in the World of Wit, Humanity, and Manners; which they might easily become by retrenching that too great Liberty. Neither have the Poets only, but the Critics too Endeavoured to complete us; Mr. Dennis and Mr. Rhymer have by their Ingenious, and judicious labours taught us to admire the Beauties as we ought, and to know the faults of the former. Nor are we less beholding to these for forming our Judgements, than to those for raising our Fancies.  
These are the Sources from whence we draw our gayer part of Conversation; I don't mean in exclusion to the other parts of Poetry, in most of which (as I have heard good Judges say) we equal at least the Ancients, and far surpass all the Moderns. I honour the Names, and admire the Writings of Denham, Suckling and D'avenant, I am ravished with the Fancy of Cowley, and the Gallantry of Waller. I reverence the Fairy Queen, am raised, and elevated with Paradise Lost, Prince Arthur composes and reduces me to a State of Yawning indifference, and Mr. W—stl—y's Heroics lull me to Sleep. Thus all Ranks and Degrees of Poets have their use, and may be serviceable to some body or other from the Prince to the Pastry Cook, or Past-beard Boxmaker. I should mention our Satirists, but it would be endless to descend to every particular, of these Mr. Oldham is admirable, and to go no further, the inimitable Mr. Butler will be an everlasting Testimony, of the Wit of his Age, and Nation, and bid eternal defiance to the Wits of all Countries, and future Ages to follow him in a Path before untracked. Our Prose Writers, that are eminent for a gay Style and jovial Argument, are so many, that it would swell this Letter too much to name 'em, so that I shall only take notice, that whoever can read without Pleasure, or Laughter, The contempt of the Clergy, and the following Letters and Dialogaes by the same Author, or the facetious Dialogues of Mr. Brown must be more Splenetic than Heraclitus, or more stupid, than the Ass he laughed at.  
Nor are we less provided for the serious Part; Morality has generally been the Province of our Clergy who have treated of all parts of it very largely with so much Piety, Solidity, and Eloquence, that as I think I may venture to say, they have written more upon it than the Clergy of all the rest of the World; so I believe no Body will deny that they have written better. Yet I could wish, that our Ingenious Gentlemen would employ their Pens oftener on these Subjects; because the severity of the other's Profession obliges 'em to write with an Air, and in a Style less agreeable, and inviting to Young People, Not that we are without many excellent Pieces of Morality, Humanity and Civil Prudence written by, and like Gentlemen. But it is the Excellence of 'em, and the ability of our Gentlemen, which appears in the Spirit, Wit, and curious observations in those Pieces, which make me desire more of the same Nature, Who can read the Essays of that Wonderful Man my Lord Bacon, or the no less to be admired Sir Walter Raleighs, or Mr. Osborns advice to a Son, the Advice to a Daughter, Sir William Temple's, or Sir George Machenzie's Essays, Sir Roger L'Estrange's Essay (to which last we are likewise obliged for an incomparable Version of Seneca) and abundance of others, without wishing for more from the same or the like hands? Our Neighbours the French, have written a great deal of this kind, of the best of which we have the benefit in English; but more particularly the Messieurs, Montagne, Rochefaucaut, and St. Euremont deserve to be immortal in all Languages. I need not mention any more, it is apparent from these that Women want not the means of being Wise and Prudent without more Tongues than one; nay, and Learned too, if they have any Ambition to be so.  
The numberless Treatises of Antiquities, Philosophy, Mathematics Natural, and other History (in which I can't pass silently by, that learned One of Sir Walter Raleigh, which the World he writ of can't match) written originally in, or translated to our Tongue are sufficient to lead us a great way into any Science our Curiousity shall prompt us to. The greatest difficulty we struggled with, was the want of a good Art of Reasoning, which we had not, that I know of, till that defect was supplied by the greatest Master of that Art Mr. Lock, whose Essay on Human Understanding makes large amends for the want of all others in that kind  
Thus Madam I have endeavoured to obviate all our adversary's Objections, by touching upon as great a Variety of things relating to the Subject as I conveniently could. Yet I hope I have troubled you with nothing but what was necessary to make my way clear, and plain before me; and I am apt to think I have made it appear, that nothing but disencouragement or an Idle Uncurious Humour can hinder us from Rivalling most Men in the knowledge of great Variety of things, without the help of more Tongues than our Own; which the Men so often reproachfully tell us is enough. This Idleness is but too frequently to be found among us, but 'tis a Fault equally common to both Sexes. Those that have means to play the Fool all their lives, seldom care for the trouble of being made wise. We are naturally Lovers of our Ease, and have great apprehensions of the difficulty of things untried; Especially in matters of Learning, the common Methods of acquiring which are so unpleasant, and uneasy. I doubt not but abundance of noble Wits are stifled in both Sexes, for want but of suspecting what they were able to do, and with how much facility. Experience shows us every day Blockheads, that arrive at a moderate, nay sometimes a great Reputation by their Confidence, and brisk attempts which they maintain by their Diligence; while great Numbers of Men naturally more Ingenious lie neglected by, for want of Industry to improve, or Courage to exert themselves. No Man certainly but wishes he had the Reputation in, and were Respected and Esteemed by the World as he sees some Men are for the Fruits of their Pens; but they are loath to be at the pains of an Attempt, or doubt their sufficience to perform; or what I believe is most general, never to inquire so far into themselves, and their own Abilities, as to bring such a thought into their Heads. This last I fancy is the true Reason, why our Sex, who are commonly charged with talking too much, are Guilty of Writing so little. I wish they would shake of this lazy Despondence, and let the noble examples of the deservedly celebrated Mrs. Philip's, and the incomparable Mrs. Behn rouse their Courages, and show Mankind the great injustice of their Contempt. I am confident they would find no such need of the assistance of Languages as is generally imagined. 
Ignorance of Latin etc. no disadvantage.  Those that have of their own need not graft upon Foreign Stocks. I have often thought that the not teaching Women Latin and Greek, was an advantage to them, if it were rightly considered, and might be improved to a great height. For Girls after they can Read and Write (if they be of any Fashion) are taught such things as take not up their whole time, and not being suffered to run about at liberty as Boys, are furnished among other toys with Books, such as Romances, Novels, Plays and Poems; which though they read carelessly only for Diversion, yet unawares to them, give 'em very early a considerable Command both of Words and Sense; which are further improved by their making and receiving Visits with their Mothers, which gives them betimes the opportunity of imitating, conversing with, and knowing the manner, and address of elder Persons. These I take to be the true Reasons why a Girl of Fifteen is reckoned as ripe as a Boy of One and Twenty, and not any natural forwardness of Maturity as some People would have it. These advantages the Education of Boys deprives them of, who drudge away the Vigour of their Memories at Words, useless ever after to most of them, and at Seventeen or Eighteen are to begin their Alphabet of Sense, and are but where the Girls were at Nine or Ten. Yet because they have learned Latin and Greek, reject with Scorn all English Books their best helps, and lay aside their Latin ones, as if they were already Masters of all that Learning, and so hoist Sail for the wide World without a Compass to Steer by. Thus I have fairly stated the difference between us, and can find no such disparity in Nature or Education as they contend for; but we have a sort of ungenerous Adversaries, that deal more in Scandal than Argument, and when they can't hurt us with their Weapons, endeavour to annoy us with stink Pots. Let us see therefore, Madam, whether we can't beat them from their Ammunition, and turn their own Artillery upon them; for I firmly believe there is nothing, which they charge upon us, but may with more Justice be retorted upon themselves.  
They tax us with a long List of Faults, and Imperfections, and seem to have taken a Catalogue of their own Follies and Vices, not with design to correct them, but to shift of the Imputation to us. There is no doubt, but particular Women may be found upon whom every charge may be justified; but our Sex is not answerable for them, till they prove there are no such Men, which will not be before Doomsday. However, like ill Neighbours they bring the Dirt out of their own Homes not out of Neatness, but out of Envy to their Neighbours, at whose Doors they lay it. But let them remove their Follies as oft as they please, they are still as constant to them, as the Needle to the North Pole, they point them out which way soever they move. Let us see what these Qualities are, they so liberally bestow upon, and after see how they fit the Donours, and survey 'em in their proper Figures and Colours. The most familiar of these are Vanity, Impertinence, Enviousness, Dissimulation, Inconstancy, etc.  
To begin with Vanity, 
Vanity.  it is a Failing the greatest Part of Mankind are tinctured with, more or less. For all Men are apt to flatter themselves with a Fancy, that they have some one or more good Qualities, or extraordinary Gifts, that raise 'em above the ordinary Level of Men; and therefore hug and cherish, what they think valuable and singular in 'em. It is never commendable, sometimes pardonable, when the excellencies are real, and it is moderate so much must be allowed to humane frailty. It is ridiculous and intolerable when it is extravagant, misplaced, or groundless. It is very injudicious, and makes men commonly dote on their Defects, and expose their blemishes by their Fondness, which makes 'em more remarkable by the care and ornament bestowed on 'em. It persuades hard Favoured and distorted Fellows to dress, and value their Persons, Cowards to pretend to Courage, and provoke Beat, Blockheads to set up for Wit, and make themselves ridiculous in Print, Upstarts to brag of their Families, and be reminded of the Garrets they were born, and the Stalls they were brought up in. In Women the object of it is their Beauty, and is excusable in those that have it. Those that have it not may be pardoned, if they endeavour at it; because it is the only undisputed advantage our Sex has over the other, and what makes 'em respected beyond all other Perfections, and is alone adored. In Men it has not only this Object, but all those before mentioned, and a hundred other. It is admirably seen in a Writing, reciting Fop Author, is in full Lustre in a Beau, but it's most unlucky Prospect is in a Swaggering Coward, who is a Fool beyond the Conviction of Smart. 
Character of a Bully.  His Courage is like an Ague Fit, that leaves him upon a Fright, and returns when he is out of the reach of a Cudgel. He spends much time in the Fencing School, and Fights briskly where there is no danger of Wounds nor Smart. His Hands are instructed, but his Heels do him all the Service. He is a nice observer of Punctilios, and takes more Affronts than are given him. He draws first, and runs first, and if ever he makes another Man run, it is after him. He is a Pibble that sparkles like a Diamond, but wants hardness. He talks perpetually of what he will do, but thinks continually of what he shall suffer. He is often in Quarrels, yet seldom in Rencounters, and is glad of a Challenge, that he may know whom, and when to avoid. He brings up the Rear at an Engagement, and leads the Van in the Retreat. He is a Man of much Passion, but the most predominant is his Fear. He offers affronts readily, but has too much honour to justify them, and will submit to any terms of satisfaction rather than occasion Bloodshed. He is so full of Courage, that it boils over when there is no occasion, and his Sword and Person are always at Leisure, and at your Service, till you want them, and then to his great Trouble, he is always indispensably engaged otherwise. He wears Red, and a long Sword openly to show his Valour, and Mail privately to show his Discretion. He threatens terribly, but he is like a Witch, if you draw Blood of him, he has no power to hurt you. No Man shows or boasts more of his Scars with less Reason. He scorns to take a blow in the Face, and a Back-piece is as good to him as a whole suit of Armour. He is at first the Terror of all the Young Bullies, at last their Maygame, and they blood their Cub Heclors upon him, as they do young Beagles on a Hare. Good usage makes him insolent, but he fawns like a Spaniel most upon those that beat him. When he is discovered by all the rest of the World, the Cheat passes still upon himself, and he is pleased with the terrible Figure he makes in his Glass, tho' he is ready to shake at his own Shadow.  
There are men of an humour directly opposite to this, 
Character of a Scow●er.  yet ev'ry whit as Mad, Foolish, and Vain; these are your Men of nice Honour, that love Fight for the sake of Blows, and are never well but when they are wounded They are severe Interpreters of Looks, are affronted at every Face that don't please 'em. and like true Cocks of the Game have a quarrel to all Mankind at first sight. They are passionate Admirers of scared Faces, and dote on a Wooden Leg. They receive a Challenge like a Billet Douce, and a home thrust as a Favour. Their common Adversary is the Constable, and their usual Lodging the Counter. Broken heads are a diversion, and an Arm in a Scarf is a high satisfaction. They are frugal in their expenses with the Tailor, for they have their Doublets pinked on their Backs, but they are as good as an Annuity to the Surgeon, tho' they need him not to let 'em blood. Flanders is their Mistress, and a Clap from her carries 'em off the Stage. If they return, an Hospital is their Retreat, or the Sheriff their Executor. These two, Madam, are very different extravagances, and very strange one's, yet they are real, and such as appear every day. But, what is most to be wondered at, arise both from the same Principle, and the same mistaken Notion, and are only differenced by the diversity of Tempers in Men. The common Motive to both is Vanity, and they jointly concur in this Opinion, that Valour is the most estimable, and most honourable Quality, that Man is capable of; they agree in a desire to be honoured and feared, but they differ in their methods in pursuing this common End. The one is naturally active, bold and daring; and therefore takes the true course to arrive at it by showing what he can do, by what he dare suffer, and his immoderate desire and indiscretion suffer him to know no bounds. The other is mean Spirited and fearful, and seeks by false Fire to Counterfeit a heat that may pass for genuine, to conceal the Frost in his Blood, and like an ill Actor, over-does his Part for want of understanding it, which 'tis impossible he should. Among peaceable Men, and those of his own Temper he comes of with Colours flying, and those are the Men he would be valiant amongst only, could he read Men's hearts. But the first Rencounter betrays the Ass through the Lion's Skin, and he is Cudgeled like an Ass in Spite of his Covering. It is our happiness Madam, that we lie under no manner of Temptation from these two Vanities, 
Imitation ridiculous.  whereof one is so dangerous, the other so ridiculous. For all humours that are forced against the natural bent of our tempers must be so. Nature is our best guide, and has fitted every Man for somethings more particularly than others; which if they had the sense to prosecute, they would at least not be ridiculous, if they were not extraordinary. But so prevalent are our Vanity, and this Apish Humour of Imitation, that we persuade ourselves, that we may practise with applause, whatever we see another succeed in, tho' as contrary to the intent of our Nature, as Dancing to an Elephant; so some Men that talk well of serious matters, are so moved at the applause some merry Drolls gain, that they forget their gravity, and aiming to be Wits, turn Buffoons; There are others, that are so taken with the actions and grimace of a good Mimic, that they fall presently to making awkard Faces and wry Mouths, and are all their lives after in a Vizor, Masked tho' bore faced.  
These, and innumerable others of the like Nature, are the lesser Follies of Mankind, by which their Vanity makes 'em fit only to be laughed at. There are others, who by more studied and refined Follies arrive to be more considerable, and make a great Figure and Party among their Sex.  
Of the first rank of these is the Beau, 
Character of a Beau.  who is one that has more Learning in his Heels than his Head, which is better covered than filled. His Tailor and his Barber are his Cabinet Council, to whom he is more beholding for what he is, than to his Maker. He is One that has travelled to see Fashions, and brought over with him the newest cut suit, and the prettiest Fancied Ribbons for Sword Knots. His best Acquaintance at Paris was his Dancing Master, whom he calls the Marquis, and his chief Visits to the Operas. He has seen the French King once, and knows the name of his chief Minister, and is by this sufficiently convinced 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 followed him hither, and all that he retains of the Language is a few modish words to lard his discourse with, and show his Breeding, and the names of his Garniture. He should be a Philosopher, for he studies nothing but himself, yet every 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 prepared according to Art, his Wig and his Coat abundantly Powdered, his Gloves Essenced, and his Handkerchief perfumed 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 Visit 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 Morning's Meditations; When he has made his Cringes round, and played over all his Tricks, out comes the fine Snush Box, and his Nose is Regaled a while: After this he begins to open, and starts some learned Argument about the newest Fashion, and hence takes occasion to commend the next Man's Fancy in his clothes, this ushers in a discourse of the Appearance last Birth Night, or Ball at Court, and so a Critic upon this Lord, or that Ladies Masking Habit. From hence he adjourns to the Playhouse, 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 they together 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 clothes sit with most Air; but in conclusion sees no Body complete 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 Snuff, and in spite of all his Pulvilio and Essences, is overcome with the stink of their Cordovan 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 feigned; at all which he laughs aloud and often, not to show his satisfaction, but his Teeth. She shows 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 Christmas, are worth to him more than the inheritance of the Field where they grow in Summer. Every thing falls in his Esteem, as it falls in price, and he would not so much as taste 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 received, and shows counterfeit Tokens, and in Conclusion, slanders some Lady or other of unquestioned Virtue 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 obtained 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 damned 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 we'll 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 feared a lighted Pipe as much as if it had been a great Gun levelled 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 Meditations.  
You would 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 could 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 would be treating You as the Country Squire did his Court Friend, who when he had showed him all the Curiosities of his House and Gardens, carried him into his Hogsties. But there are more than enough to justify what I have said of the Humour of Diogenes, who was as vain and as proud in his Tub, as Plato could be in the midst of his fine Persian Carpets, and rich Furniture. Vanity is only an Ambition of being taken notice of, which shows itself 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 pampered all the while by the Zeal and at the Charges of their Followers, who are afraid the good Man should starve himself. It is the Blessing of Fools, and the Folly of Ingenious Men. For it makes those contentedly hug themselves under all the scorn of the World, and the Indignities that are offered 'em, and these restless and dissatisfied with its applause. Both think the World envious, and that their merit is injured, 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; for though they commonly mistake the Derision of Men, 
Vanity a Blessing to Fools.  for their applause, yet Men are sometimes so ill Natured as to undeceive 'em, and then it is their Comfort, that these are envious Men, and misrepresent the World's opinion of 'em. Could these Men be convinced of their mistake, I see nothing that should 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 Mediator of a Reconcilement. No Quality seems to be more Providentially distributed to every Man according to his Necessity; for those that have least Wit, aught 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 maintained amongst Men, who, were this imaginary Equality destroyed, might be apt to reverence, and idolise 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 ourselves, 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 Privilege to torment and plague every Body; but those especially who have the best Reputation for their Wit or Judgement; 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, 
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 Hear, and Rehearings. He asks your Opinion, yet for fear you should not jump with him, tells you his own first. He desires no Favour, yet is disappointed, if he be not Flattered, and is offended always at the Truth. His first Education is generally a Shop, or a Countinghouse, where his acquaintance commences with the Bellman 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 Mechanic, and resolves to sell all his stock, and purchase a Plantation in Parnassus. 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 Toys from Helic●n, which he has a Shop so well furnished 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 launched; who have lately made a good Voyage, who a saving one only, and who have suffered a Wreck in Lincoln's- Inn-Feilds, or Drury-Lane, and which are brought into the Dock to be Careened and fitted for another Voyage. He talks much of Jack Dryden, and Will. Wyc●erley, 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 could show 'em to be mere Sots and Blockheads that understand little of Poetry, in comparison of himself; but he forbears 'em merely out of Gratitude, and Compassion. Once a Month he fits out a small Poetical Smeck at the charge of his Bookseller, which he jades 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 Rhyme, 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 mercilefs a Persecutor. He is the Bane of Society, a Friend to the Stationers, the Plague of the Press, and the Ruin 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 Smoke. If he aspire to Comedy, he intrigues with some experienced Damsel of the Town, in order to instruct himself in the humour of it, and is cullied by her into Matrimony, and so is furnished 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.  
I shall not trouble you with any more Instances of the foolish vanities of Mankind; 
Vanity Universal.  because I am afraid I have been too large upon that Head already. Not that I think there is any Order or Degree of Men, which would 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 Virtuous, but something of it will shine through the greatest Part of what they do, let them cast never so thick a Veil 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 talked of and remembered, 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, and these slight Touches may serve to let 'em see, that even the greatest, and Wisest are not wholly exempt, if they have it not in a higher Degree, tho' they exercise it in things more Popular, and Plausible. I hope therefore the burden 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.  
Impertinence comes next under Consideration, 
Impertinence.  in which I shall be as brief, as I conveniently can, in regard I have been so long upon the preceding Head. Impertinence is a humour of busying ourselves 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 gained an entire Victory, and the Field were indisputable; but they shall have no cause for Triumph, this is no Post of such mighty advantage as they fond persuade themselves. This Presumption arises from an Erroneous Conceit, that all those things in which they are little concerned, or consulted, are trifles below their care or notice, 
Commonly mistaken.  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 Household Affairs, about the Regulation of the Family, and Government of Children and Servants, the provident management of a Kitchen, 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 Domestic are our share, and out of which we are rarely suffered 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 refined than those of Brutes without our care of 'em. For were it not for that, their Houses would be mere Bedlams, their most luxurious Treats, but a rude confusion of ill Digested, ill mixed 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 acquired or bestowed, 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 Politics, State Affairs and Grievances to us, in which perhaps neither they, nor We are much concerned, 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.  
He is one whose Brains having been once overheated, 
Character of a Coffeehouse Politician.  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 forerunners of the Day of Judgement. 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 Wellwisher to the Church, but he is never to be reconciled 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 spite 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 Public takes him off all Care for his Private Concern. He is always settling the Nation, yet could never manage his own Family. He is a mighty Stickler at all Elections, and tho' he has no Vote, thinks it impossible any thing should 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 busy in forcing of Counterscarps, and storming of Breaches, while his Creditors take his Shop by surprise, and make Plunder of his Goods. Thus by mending the State, He mars 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 Coffeehouses are every day full of; nay, so far has this contagious Impertinence spread itself, that Private Houses, and Shops, nay, the very Streets and Bulks are infected and pestered with Politics and News. Not a Pot could go glibly down, or a stitch 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 inquire what was become of the Rogue, and were very glad to hear he was taken, and expected no doubt he should come over and make 'em a Holiday at his Execution. They were mightily rejoiced at the Arresting of the Marshal Boufflers, and made no question but they should 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 Solicitude could have no more Influence upon, than over the Wether. '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 Coffeehouses; 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 pricked up to receive 'em, or walked uneasily with a Foolish Impatience to and from the Door, or Window, as if their looking out so often would 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 rumoured that a Breach is made in the Castle Wall, or the White Flag hung out, but a Council of War is called in every Coffee-house in Town; the French, and Dutch Prints, their Intelligencers are called for immediately, and examined, and not a Shot is mentioned but they start as if the Ball whizzed 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 mischievous French in the Field, they are sure to take sufficient Revenge, and pay 'em off swingly in the Coffeehouses: But as if this were not enough, Our greatest Actions must be Buffooned 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? It must never be said, 
City Militia.  that the Coffeehouses dared more than Moorfields; No, for the honour of London, out comes the Foreman of the Shop very Formidable in Buff and Bandeliers, and away he marches with Feather in Cap, to the general Rendezvous in the Artillery Ground. There these terrible Mimics 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 Smithfield in all its Bravery, and would 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 Quartfield 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 walled with Beef, and the French as good meat as Capons, and dressed the same way, the King need never beat his Drums for Soldiers; all these Gallant Fellows would come in Voluntarily, the meanest of which would be able to eat a Marshal, and whom nothing could oppose in conjunction.  
Nothing is more common, and familiar than this sort of Impertinence; Most Men would have little to do, did they busy themselves about nothing, but what they understood, or were concerned 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 unasked, 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, 
Officious Impertinences.  and passing their Judgements Magisterially on matters they have no Cognizance of, and generally little Information, or Skill in. They are desirous the World should 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 show how well they could manage, were it their Business; thus they advise without good intention, or kindness, and censure without design, or malice to the Persons counselled, or reflected on, These buzzing Infects 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 forced to rack their Inventions to employ their Leisure. They are very busy for every Body, and serve no Body. They are always in haste, and think themselves expected every where with Impatience, yet come sooner always 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 Gazettes, 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 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, 
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, Corals, Corallines, Sea Fans, Pebbles, Marchasites and Flint stones; and has abandoned the Acquaintance and Society of Men for that of Infects, Worms, Grubbs, Maggets, Flies, Moths, Locusts, Beetles, Spiders, Grasshoppers, 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 Movables are the remainders of his Deluge. His Travels are not designed 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 ravished at finding an uncommon shell, or an odd shaped Stone, and is desperately enamoured at first sight of an unusual marked Butterfly, which he will hunt a whole day to be Master of. He trafficks to all places, and has his Correspondents in ev'ry part of the World; yet his Merchandizes serve not to promote our Luxury, nor increase 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 Chameleon or Salamander's Egg, above all the Sugars and Spices of the West and Eastindies, and would give more for the Shell of a Starfish, or Sea Urchin entire, than for a whole Dutch Herring Fleet. He visits Mines, Coalpits, and Quarries frequently, but not for that sordid end that other Men usually do, viz. gain; but for the sake of the fossil 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, etc. that are not accused of any virtue 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 deceased 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 Infects of all Countries, and the Shells and Pebbles of all Shores, which can no more be complete without two or three of remarkable Signatures, than an Apothecary's Shop without a Tortoise and a Crocodile, or a Country Barber's without a battered 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 received with more joy, than a Rope of Orient Pearl, or Diamonds would be. His Collection of Garden Snails, Cockle Shells and Vermin completed, (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 and 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 obliged 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 case, which melts before him as readily as if it were nothing but a Ball of Salt. He pumps even the Centre, and drains it of imaginary stores by imaginary Loopholes, as if punching the Globe full of holes could make his Hypothesis hold Water. He is a Man of Expedition, and does that in a few days, which cost Moses some Months to complete. 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, ev'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 believed) than a whole Warren of Coneys. 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 ●o; one would think that none but Mad Men, or highly Hypochondriacal, could 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 Trifles? It is only that they may give their Names to some yet unchristened 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 Infects, 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 Caterpillar, that when it is come to maturity Weaves a Web, is metamorphosed to a Moth-Flye, lays Eggs, and so Dies. They leave all further enquiry to the Unlearned and Mechanics, 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 Physic, or any useful Arts, what noble Remedies, what serviceable Instruments have these Mushroom, and Cockle shell▪ Hunters obliged the World with? For I am ready to recant if they can show so good a Medicine as Stewed Prunes, or so necessary an Instrument as a Fly Flap of their own Invention and Discovery. Yet these are the Men of exalted Understandings, the Men of elevated Capacities, and sublime Speculations, that Dignisie 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 would not have any Body mistake me so far, as to think I would in the least reflect upon any sincere, and intelligent Enquirer into Nature, of which I as heartily wish a better knowledge, as any Vertuoso of 'em all. You can be my Witness, Madam, that I used to say, I thought Mr. Boil 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 justify 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 natured as not to think a whit the better of a Book for it. 'Tis an ill time to trade with implicit 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 priced a Refutation would make a Stoic 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 stocked with it, it may be easy to confute, but impossible to convince 'em. He therefore that would 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 Butterflies irreverently spoken of, it must be more provoking to him, than 'tis to a Lion to be pulled by the Beard. And if, when to crown all his Labours, he has discovered a Water so near a kin to the famous one, that could 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 Scribblers of the Age, will still be demanding Proofs and writing Answers, he has reasons to throw down his Pen in a rage, and pronounce the world, that could 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 show that Men are themselves altogether as impertinent, as they maliciously misrepresent us. It is not for want of plenty of others that I content myself with these; but I am not willing to trouble you with any of an inferior 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 received 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, would have split the sides of Heraclitus, had it been his fortune to have been a Spectator. 'Tis very easy to decide which of these Impertinents is the most signal; the Vertuoso is manifestly without a Competitour. For our Follies are not to be measured by the degree of Ignorance, that appears in 'em, but by the Study, Labour and Expense they cost us to finish and complete '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 mentioned deservedly claim the preference to all others; they have improved so well their Amusements into an Art, that the Credulous and Ignorant are induced to believe there is some secret Virtue, 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 intent not in what remains to trouble you with any more such instances; because I am sensible these have already swelled 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. Amongst the rest Dissimulation is none of the least Blemishes, 
Dissimulation become necessary.  which they endeavour to fix upon us. This Quality, though it can't upon any occasion deserve the name of a Virtue, 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 misemployed. 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 ocsicaons 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 theresore 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 would 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 agreeable 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 confirmed this Observation, and ours no less than any of the Preceding. This premised, 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 Circumscribed, afford us so little Variety, so regular a Face of things, that we want the means of obtaining the Master of so useful an Art, which no question but we should 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 received, but to wreak their Revenge more covertly and effectually. This is another advantage Men derive from liberty of Conversation and promiscuous Business, wherein the Variety of Contingencies they have to provide against, and the Diversity of Tempers they deal with, force 'em to turn and wind themselves into all Shapes, and accommodate themselves to all Humours. There is indeed yet a higher sort of Dissimulation, 
Dissimulation when criminal.  which is always Criminal, that is when Men not only cloud their real Sentiments and Intentions, but make Profession of and seem zealously to affect the contrary; this by a more proper and restrained Name is called Deceit, and is always used in an ill Sense. This Art is most practised in Courts where Policy, 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 ruin. There you may see Men cringing to those, they would 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 Actors; as Ornaments, not as Instruments; and therefore are seldom involved 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 hoped from successful Treachery, of which no Place is so barren as not to afford some. This Deceit is so far from being the Vice of our Sex, that they are the common Object on which it is daily practised: Nothing is more frequently met with than false Love in Men, 
False Love commonly practised.  which is now grown so familiar, that a Company of Six of both Sexes can scarce meet, but a Shame Passion commences immediately, is urged, protested, and sworn to be real with all imaginable Violence. If these false Arts, mock sighing, and Dying prevail upon any foolish, easy, credulous Woman, the Shame Lover is blown up with the Success, he is big and in Labour till he be delivered 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 ruin a step to Reputation, and found'st 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 assured, that they are not a quarter so many as those vain Boasters would 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 Jealousy. Men seldom envy others, till they fear being out stripped by 'em in Fortune or Reputation. 
Enviousness  It is the most criminal, because the most injurious to Virtue, and worth of all our natural Failings, against which its Malice is generally bend. This vice and Jealousy 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 Tormentors than their own Thoughts. The Envious Man ruins his own to disturb another's Tranquillity, and sacrifices his own Happiness and Repose to a perverse Desire of troubling his Neighbours. He feeds like Toads upon the Venom 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 Relief 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 disclaimed by both Sexes, yet generally practised by both. Men love as little to have their Reputation as their Chimneys overtopped by their Neighbours; For they think by that means their names become dark, as their Houses do smoky by the other: Yet through 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 levelly 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 could overtake. No sooner is any Man raised 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 raised, but the vile Rascally inferior Crowd 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 troubled at the Prosperity of others; for not giving ourselves the Liberty of aiming at things far out of our Power, they are the sooner compassed, and we the sooner at Ease. He, that thinks himself Happy, is incapable of Envying fewer Felicity, since he sees him possessed of nothing which either he has not or despises not. Yet it must be confessed that the lesser Piques, and Grudge are daily to be met with among us, but no less among Men. What is it that spawns daily such Fryes of Satirists without Wit, and Critics without Judgement, but this humour of carping, and nibbling at the Reputation of others? But they are generally abundantly furnished with Impudence, a good Quality that commonly supplies largely the want of all other.  
A Critic of this sort is one that for want of Wit sets up for Judgement; 
Character of a City Critic  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 Critic wronged every Body in his Censure, and snarled, and grinned 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 Satirist, yet he has Gall and Vanity enough to dispense with that Want, and write without it. His works are Libels 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 inspired when he is only Possessed, and blown up with a Flatus of Envy and Vanity. His great helps to Poetry are Crambo, and Arithmetic, 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: 
7th. Satire of Boileau Eng.  He Follows 'em as a Dog pursues his Prey, and barks whenere He smells 'em in his way: He knows, to say no more that Wit is scarce, to jingle out a Rhyme, 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 picked out of the French Critics, 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 Rhyme, in this neither Rhyme nor Reason. He talks much of the Naivete of his Thoughts, which appears sufficiently in the Dullness of 'em; yet nothing but the Phlegmatic, 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 Chemist, he lets the Spirit fly 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 blanche his base Metal, or cover the Brass of his Counterfeits. To complete himself in the Formalities of Parnassus, he falls in love and tells the World, it is obliged 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 Rhyming Fool, for he need only to look in his Glass, and he may Copy a Country Wit from the City Original. If this Rhyming Humour lasts, there's a good Sugar-Jobber spoiled 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 should 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 could make me forget myself; but a Book newly published happening just at this Juncture unluckily to fall into my Hands, I could not without Indignation see the Scurrility and Insolence, with which Mr. Oldham, and Mr. Cowley are treated; and could not but resent a little the Wrongs done to the Memory of Men whom the rest of the World with Justice admire; and could not help taking Notice upon so fair an Opportunity, that they are not, tho' dead, to be so rudely played with, and made the May-Game of ev'ry Splenetic 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 Scourged by 'em. Nothing but Envy and a Vain Conceit of himself could move him to attack the Reputation of Men, whose Verse will always command Admiration, while his own raise nothing but Scorn and Indignation. If his Bookseller were but blest with half a dozen such Authors, he would 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 charged with Levity, and Inconstancy, two Failings so nearly related and so generally United, that it his hard to treat of 'em apart; 
Levity.  we will therefore consider 'em briefly together. Levity is an unsteady Humour 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 Judgements. 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 Judgements, 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 confessed on all hands that our Judgements ripen sooner than theirs, 
Less Levity among Women then Men.  whence of course it Follows, that this Folly prevails not so long upon us, as them. 'Tis yet true, that even the most experienced 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 pursue with so much Eagerness and Impatience what they so soon slight if obtained. I appeal to the Experience of all mankind, if they do not generally frame to themselves much greater Ideas 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 pursuit, than they met with after they were in Possession of their Wishes. The Imagery of Fancy is, like some Paintings, ravishing, and surprising 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 uneasy, and their desires palls so soon upon the full enjoyment of their Wishes; they see then the imperfections as well Beauties of what they coveted, which glittered so far of, and like the Moon appeared all Lustre and Smoothness, but when arrived at, all dark and uneven. These Fallacies Men are more submitted to than we, by those very Privileges 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 called 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 and so part with the true Jewel for the false one. These are the seririous and applauded Follies of Mankind, and show 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 bartering a small Diamond for a large Glass Bubble.  
Inconstancy is so like Levity that little more needs to be said of it, 
Inconstancy  only that it is commonly restrained to the change of Affections in regard to Persons, and so is chiefly concerned in Love and Friendship. It is founded upon Levity, through which we first make an injudicious Choice, and are afterwards as unreasonably disgusted with it. This happens oftener in Love, than Friendship; because the Impressions of Love are more suddenly received, 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 extinguished, or abated by observation of some disgustful Imperfection or other in the Person beloved. This is indeed the true Reason, 
Love, why so soon cold.  why Love, which is generally so hot at first, cools commonly so suddenly; because being generally the Issue of Fancy, not Judgement, 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 Surprise, is abated by Familiarity, and decays, as they wear of, by Degrees. Beside, that, a Love so Founded is liable to be ravished by any Superior Beauty; or if not so, yet the Novelty of the Former once worn of, the New Comer has the assistance of Fancy the Slave of Novelty to gain the Superiority. This is the Cause why so few real and lasting Passions are found amongst Men. For Charms depending upon, and owing their Power to Fancy; can maintain no Conquests any longer, than that is on their side, which is as inconstant as the Wind. 
Women constanter Lovers.  In this also we are less faulty, than they; For, not usually fixing our Affection on so mutable a Thing as the Beauty of a Face, which a thousand 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 observed 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 stifled in our own Breasts, and could 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 through 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, sedace, and tender, not apt to be ruffled, and disturbed by Passions, and too fearful to enterprise 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 gratify 'em. Thus are we debarred the liberty of choosing for ourselves, and confined to please ourselves out of the number that like and address to us, of which if we fix our Affections upon any one, we are generally fixed 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 involved in the like Gild, 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. I know that the Name is commonly given to such as are linked by any Ties of Consanguinity, 
Friendship.  Affinity, Interest, mutual Obligations, Acquaintance, and the like: But these are such Friendships (if they may be called 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 renounced 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 should be the more Faithful even in this too: For as we are less concerned in the Affairs of the World, so we have less Temptation from Interest to be false to our Friends. Neither are we so likely to be false through Fear; 
Women truer Friends than Men.  because our Sex are seldom engaged 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 clogged with so many Considerations of Interest, and Punctilios 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 charged upon us, as general Defects; and I hope, Madam, I have fairly shown, that the other Sex are both by Interest and Inclination more exposed, 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. I know there was a Tullia, 
More ill Men than Women.  a Claudia, and a Messalina; there was likewise, a Sardanapalus, a Nero, a Caligula; but if the Sexes in general are to be reproached with, and measured by these; Human Race is certainly the vilest Part of the Creation. 'Tis very ill Logic to argue from Particulars to Generals, and where the Premises 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 convinced, and become their Convert; and I make no doubt but every ingenuous Man will do as much by me. Thus I have endeavoured to vindicate our Sex, from the unjust Imputations with which some unreasonable, malicious Men would 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 show that there are some necessary Qualifications to be acquired, some good Improvements to be made by Ingenious Gentlemen in the Company of our Sex.  
Of this number are Complacence, Gallantry, 
Many Advantages from women's Company.  Good Humour, Invention, and an Art, which (tho' frequently abused) 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 Agreeable, 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 intrinsic Value, and Worth, before, but they are doubtful and obscure, till they are polished, refined, and receive Lustre, and Esteem from these.  
The Principal of these is Complacence, 
Complacence to be learned by it.  a good Quality, without which in a competent Measure no Man is fi●ted for Society. This is best learned in our Company, where all Men affect Gaiety, and endeavour to be agreeable. State News, Politics, 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 easy 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 would take it as well to have their Titles to their Estates questioned, 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 observed, when such Arguments have been introduced even in our Company, and by Men that affect Indifference, and abundance of Temper, that very few have been able to show so much Mastery, but that something appeared 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 Public 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 designed and contrived only for their Pleasure, and therefore use us tenderly, as Children do their Favourite Baubles. They talk gaily, 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 heighten by variety of Opinions an agreeable Entertainment. Mirth, and Good Humour reign generally in our Society, Good Manners always; For with us Men show 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 Height of this good Quality, yet there is nothing so stubborn, but it may be bend. Assiduity and constant Practice will contract such Habits, as will make any thing easy and familiar, even to the worst contrived Disposition; but where Nature concurs, Men are soon Perfect. This is one great advantage Men reap by our Society, nor is it to be despised by the Wisest of 'em, who know the use of this Accomplishment, and are sensible, that it is hardly, if at all, to be acquired, but by conversing with us. For tho' Men may have Wit and Judgement, yet the Liberty they take of thwarting, and opposing one another makes 'em Eager, and Disputative, Impatient, Sour, and Morose; till by conversing with us▪ they grow insensibly ashamed of such Rustic 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 Monastic 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 damped and silent, or unseasonably Frolicsome and Free, so that they appear either Dull, or Ridiculous.  
Nor is Complacence the only thing these Men want, 
Gallantry acquired by our Company.  they want likewise the Gallantry of those Men that frequent our Company. This Quality is the height 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 looked 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 used a little to Our Society, their Modesty sits like Constraint upon 'em, and looks like a forced Compliance to uneasy Rules, and Forms of Civility. Conversing frequently with us makes 'em familiar to Men, and when they are convinced, as well of the Easiness, as the Necessity of 'em, they are soon reconciled to the Practice. This Point once gained, 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 Phlegmatic a thing for 'em, a little Formal Ceremony, and common Civilities, such as are paid to ev'ry one of Course, will not satisfy 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, 
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 agreeable, without showing 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 complete Master, can never fail of being both admired, and beloved. This Accomplishment is best, if not only to be acquired 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 inspire 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.  
Hence it is that they employ all their Art, 
Invention improved by our Society.  Wit, and Invention to say and do things, that may appear to us, surprising and agreeable either for their Novelty or Contrivance. The very End and Nature of Conversation among us retrench abundance of those things, which make the greatest part of Men's discourse, and they find themselves obliged to strain their Inventions to fetch from other Springs, Streams proper to entertain us with. This puts 'em upon beating and ranging o'er 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 compelled 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 arrived; 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 heighten 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 employed only to raise mirth, and promote good Humour, Conditions that can't well be observed, when Men contend for Realities, and dispute for the Reputation of their Wit or Judgement, 
Fools no fit Companions for Women.  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 Reason's 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 contrived Bodies, that now, like all Foolish Imitators, 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 should 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 aught to be brought into Disrepute, because it is observed, 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 learned all his Paces, 'tis as much as the thing is capable of, 'twere absurd to expect he should chop Logic. This is so far from being an Objection against us, that it is an Argument, that none but Ingenious Men are duly qualified to converse with us; Who by our Means have not only been fitted, and finished for great things, but have actually aspired 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 Ruin 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 enjoined 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 gained 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 wondering at those Men, that can write huge Volumes upon slender Subjects, and shall hereafter admire their Judgement only, who can confine their Imaginations, and curb their wand'ring 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 banished Men, p. 24.  
Advantages of women's Company, p. 135.   

B  
Bodies Organised 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 Critics Character, p. 119.  
Complacence how acquired, p. 136.   

D  
Dissidence of themselves a great discouragement to Women, p. 55.  
Dissimulation necessary, p. 110.  
— why most used by Men, p. 112.  
— when Criminal, p. 113.  
— How differing from deceit, p. 114.   

E  
Education men's greatest advantage, p. 6.  
— Of the Female Sex not so deficient as commonly supposed, 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 falsely charged on Women, p. 60.  
Fools no fit Companions for Women, p. 145.   

G  
Gentlemen, best Writers of Morality, Humanity, etc. p. 52.  
Gallantry how acquired, p. 140.  
— How distinguished 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 measured by its Artifice▪ p. 109.   

L  
Learning unjustly restrained 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 Politics, improper for mixed Conversation, p. 40  
Poetaster's Character, p. 79.   

Q  
The Question stated, p. 6.   

R  
Religion, etc. no proper subjects for mixed Conversation, p. 38.   

S  
Sexes not distinguished in Souls, p. 11.  
Salic Law, it's Original, p. 22.  
Scowrer's Character, p. 64.   

U  
Vulgar of both Sexes of equal Capacicity, p. 15.  
Vanity the Vice of Men, p. 60.  
— Fool's 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▪