While women are meek, passive, good creatures, who, used to stay at home, set their maids at work, and formerly themselves, get their houses in order, to receive, comfort, oblige, give joy to their fierce, fighting, bustling, active protectors, providers, maintainers, divert him with pretty pug's tricks, tell him soft tales of love, and of who and who's together, and what has been done in his absence,-bring to him little master, so like his own dear papa; and little pretty miss, a soft, sweet, smiling soul, with her sampler in her hand, so like what her meek mamma was at her years! And with these differences in education, nature, employments, your ladyship asks, whether the man or the woman bears more from each other? has the more patience? Dearest lady! how can you be so severe upon your own sex, yet seem to persuade yourself that you are defending them?

him, and be occasionally, if not indifferent, unpunctual, and delight in being missed, expected, and called to tender account for his careless absences; and he will be less and less solicitous about giving good reasons for them, as she is more and more desirous of his company. Poor fool! he has brought her to own that she loves him and will she not bear with the man she loves? She, herself, as I have observed, will think she must act consistently with her declaration; and he will plead that declaration in his favour, let his neglects or slights be what they will.

LADY MARY WORTLEY
MONTAGU,

eldest daughter of Evelyn, Earl of Kingston
(afterwards Marquis of Dorchester, finally
Mary Fielding, daughter of William, Earl
Duke of Kingston), by his wife the Lady
of Denbigh, born about 1690, and married
in 1712 to Edward Wortley Montagu, ac-
companied her husband during his resi-
dence as ambassador to the Porte, 1716-18;
resided without her husband on the Conti-
nent, 1739-1761; returned to England, Octo-
1761, and died August 21, 1762. Whilst
abroad she wrote many epistles, of which the
best collection will be found in The Letters
and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,
cliffe, Lond., 1837, 5 vols. 8vo; 2d and best
edited by her great-grandson, Lord Wharn-
edit. also 1837. See also her Letters from
the Levant, edited by J. A. St. John, Lond.,
Lond., 1803, 5 vols. 8vo.
1838, fp. 8vo, and her Works, with Memoirs,

By her exertions inoculation for the smallpox was introduced into England. Pope quarrelled with, and, of course, abused her.

What you say of a lover's pressing his mistress to a declaration of her love for him, is sweetly pretty, and very just; but let a man press as he will, if the lady answers him rather by her obliging manners than in words, she will leave herself something to declare, and she will find herself rather more than less respected for it: such is the nature of man!-A man hardly ever presumes to press a lady to make this declara-ber, tion, but when he thinks himself sure of her. He urges her, therefore, to add to his own consequence; and hopes to quit scores with her, when he returns love for love, and favour for favour: and thus "draws the tender-hearted soul to professions which she is often upbraided for all her life after," says your ladyship. But these must be the most ungenerous of men. All I would suppose is that pride and triumph is the meaning of the urgency for a declaration which pride and triumph make a man think unnecessary; and perhaps to know how far he may go, and be within allowed compass. A woman who is brought to own her love to the man, must act accordingly towards him; must be more indulgent to him; must, in a word, abate of her own significance, and add to his. And have you never seen a man strut upon the occasion, and how tame and bashful a woman looks after she has submitted to make the acknowledgment? The behaviour of each to the other, upon it and after it, justifies the caution to the sex, which I would never have a woman forget, always to leave to herself the power of granting something: yet her denials may be so managed as to be more attractive than her compliance. Women, Lovelace says (and he pretends to know them), are fond of ardours; but there is an end of them when a lover is secure. He can then look about

"The letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu are not unworthy of being named after those of Madame de Sévigné. They have much of the character of agreeable epistolary style than perFrench ease and vivacity, and retain more the haps any other letters which have appeared in the English language."-DR. HUGH BLAIR: Lects. on Rhetoric and Belles-Letters, Lect. xxxvii.

"A reader need only glance at Lady Mary's letters to see that she was not less distinguished for wit than prone to indulge in sarcasm, in scan. dal, and in a very free range of opinions of all

sorts. ... We have no doubt whatsoever that ore of the things which drove Lady Mary from England was the enmity she caused all around her by the license of her tongue and pen. She was always writing scandal: a journal full of it was burnt by her family; her very panegyrics were sometimes malicious, or were thought so, in consequence of her character, as in the instance of the extraordinary verses addressed to Mrs. Murray in connexion with a trial for a man's life. Pope himself, with all the temptations of his wit and resentment, would

is no objection to a girl, whose time is not
so precious: she cannot advance herself in
any profession, and has therefore more hours
to spare; and as you say her memory is
good, she will be very agreeably employed
this way.
There are two cautions to be
given on this subject: first, not to think her-
self learned when she can read Latin, or
even Greek. Languages are more properly
to be called vehicles of learning than learn-
ing itself, as may be observed in many
schoolmasters, who, though perhaps critics
in grammar, are the most ignorant fellows
upon earth. True knowledge consists in
knowing things, not words. I would no
further wish her a linguist than to enable
her to read books in their originals, that are
often corrupted, and always injured by trans-
lations. Two hours' application every morn-
ing will bring this about much sooner than
you can imagine, and she will have leisure
enough besides to run over the English
poetry, which is a more important part of a
woman's education than it is generally sup-
posed. Many a young damsel has been
ruined by a fine copy of verses which she
would have laughed at if she had known it

had been stolen from Mr. Waller. . . . The
second caution to be given her (and which
is most absolutely necessary), is to conceal
whatever learning she attains, with as much

solicitude as she would hide crookedness or

, or

Do not fear this should make her affect the
character of Lady -, or Lady
Mrs. - those women are ridiculous, not
because they have learning, but because they
have it not. One thinks herself a complete
historian, after reading Echard's Roman
History; another a profound philosopher,
having got by heart some of Pope's unin-
telligible essays; and a third an able divine,
on the strength of Whitefield's sermons:
thus you hear them screaming politics and
controversy.

It is a saying of Thucydides, that ignorance is bold and knowledge reserved. Indeed it is impossible to be far advanced in it without being more humbled by a conviction of human ignorance than elated by learning. At the same time I recommend books, I neither exclude work nor drawing. I think it is as scandalous for a woman not to know how to use a needle, as for a man not to know how to use a sword.

JOSEPH BUTLER, D.C.L.,

born 1692, Preacher at the Rolls, 1718-1726, Clerk of the Closet to Queen Caroline, 1736, Bishop of Bristol, 1738, Bishop of Durham, 1750, died 1752, will always be remembered for his great work The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature, to which are added Two Brief Dissertations: 1. On PerThe first edition of the Analogy was pubsonal Identity; 2. On the Nature of Virtue. lished in 1736. The Works, with an Account by Bishop Halifax, appeared, Oxford, 1807, 2 vols. 8vo; same, Oxford, 1849, 2 vols. Svo; Works, New York, 1845, 8vo. The Works contain The Analogy and Two Dissertations, twenty-one Sermons, A Charge, and Correspondence between Dr. Butler and Dr. [Samuel] Clarke.

"The author to whom I am under the greatest obligations is Bishop Butler. The whole of this admirable treatise-one of the most remark

lameness: the parade of it can only serve to draw on her the envy, and consequently the most inveterate hatred, of all he and she fools, which will certainly be at least three parts in four of her acquaintance. The use of knowledge in our sex, beside the_amusement of solitude, is to moderate the passions, and learn to be contented with a small expense, which are the certain effects of a studious life; and it may be preferable even to that fame which men have engrossed to themselves, and will not suffer us to share. You will tell me I have not observed this rule myself; but you are mistaken: it is only inevitable accident that has given me any reputation that way. I have always carefully avoided it, and ever thought it a mis-able that any language can produce-is intended fortune. The explanation of this paragraph would occasion a long digression, which I will not trouble you with, it being my present design only to say what I think useful to my granddaughter, which I have much at heart. If she has the same inclination (I should say passion) for learning that I was born with, history, geography, and philosophy will furnish her with materials to pass away cheerfully a longer life than is allotted to mortals. I believe there are few heads capable of making Sir Isaac Newton's calculations, but the result of them is not difficult to be understood by a moderate capacity.

taught in the Scriptures are strictly analogous to to show that the principles of moral government those everywhere exhibited in the government of the world as seon in natural religion."-DR. FRANCIS WAYLAND: Moral Phil., p. 5; Intellec. Phil., p. 338.

in any language on the philosophy of religion."

"The most original and profound work extant

SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH: 2d Prelim. Dissert. to

Encyc. Brit.

"I have derived greater aid from the views and reasonings of Bishop Butler than I have been able to find besides in the whole range of our extant authorship."-DR. T. CHALMERS: Bridgewater Treatise, Prof.

Butler's Sermons also are very valuable.

164

JOSEPH BUTLER.

REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.

That which makes the question concerning a future life to be of so great importance to us, is our capacity of happiness and misery. And that which makes the consideration of it to be of so great importance to us, is the supposition of our happiness or misery hereafter depending upon our actions here. Without this indeed, curiosity could not but sometimes bring a subject, in which we may be so highly interested, to our thoughts; especially upon the mortality of others, or the near prospect of our own. men would not take any further thought But reasonable about hereafter, than what should happen thus occasionally to rise in their minds, if it were certain that our future interest no way depended upon our present behaviour; whereas, on the contrary, if there be ground, either from analogy or anything else, to think it does, then there is reason also for the most active thought and solicitude to secure that interest; to behave so as that we may escape that misery, and obtain that happiness in another life which we not only suppose ourselves capable of, but which we apprehend also is put in our own power. And whether there be ground for this last apprehension certainly would deserve to be most seriously considered, were there no other proof of a future life and interest than that presumptive one which the foregoing observations amount to.

consequences.

Now in the present state, all which we enjoy, and a great part of what we suffer, is put in our own power. For pleasure and pain are the consequences of our actions; and we are endued by the Author of our nature with capacities for foreseeing these does not so much as preserve our lives, exWe find by experience he clusively of our own care and attention to provide ourselves with, and to make use of, that sustenance by which he has appointed our lives shall be preserved; and without which he has appointed they shall not be preserved at all. And in general we foresee that the external things which are the objects of our various passions can neither be obtained nor enjoyed without exerting ourselves in such and such manners: but by thus exerting ourselves we obtain and enjoy these objects in which our natural good consists; or by this means God gives us the possession and enjoyment of them. I know not that we have any one kind or degree of enjoyment but by the means of our own actions. And by prudence and care we may, for the most part, pass our days in tolerable ease and quiet: or, on the contrary, we may, by rashness, ungoverned passion, wilfulness, or even by negligence, make our

selves as miserable as ever we please. And miserable, i.e., to do what they know beforehand will render them so. many do please to make themselves extremely those ways the fruit of which they know, by instruction, example, experience, will be disgrace, and poverty, and sickness, and unThey follow timely death. This every one observes to be the general course of things; though it is that all our sufferings are owing to our own to be allowed we cannot find by experience follies.

perceptions without regard to their behahis creatures promiscuously such and such Why the Author of Nature does not give viour; why he does not make them happy without the instrumentality of their own actions, and prevent their bringing any suf ferings upon themselves, is another matter. Perhaps there may be some impossibilities in the nature of things, which we are unacquainted with. Or less happiness, it may be, would upon the whole be produced by such a method than is by the present. Or perhaps divine goodness, with which, if I mistake not, we make very free in our speculations, may not be a bare single disposition to produce happiness; but a disposition to make the good, the faithful, the honest man happy.

ANALOGY, Chap. II.

CONSCIENCE.

by which they distinguish between, approve There is a principle of reflection in men and disapprove their own actions. We are plainly constituted such sort of creatures as can take a view of what passes within itself, to reflect upon our own nature. The mind tions, as respecting such objects, and in such its propensions, aversions, passions, affecdegrees; and of the several actions consequent thereupon. In this survey it approves of one, disapproves of another, and towards but is quite indifferent. This principle in a third is affected in neither of these ways, his heart, temper, and actions, is conscience; man, by which he approves or disapproves for this is the strict sense of the word, though sometimes it is used so as to take in more. And that this faculty tends to restrain men from doing mischief to each other, and leads them to do good, is too manifest to need being insisted upon. Thus a parent has the affection of love to his children: this leads him to take care of, to educate, to make due provision for them; the natural affection leads to this: but the reflection that it is his proper business, what belongs to him, that it is right and commendable so to do; this added to the affection becomes a much more settled principle, and carries him on

through more labour and difficulties for the sake of his children than he would undergo from that affection alone if he thought it, and the course of action it led to, either indifferent or criminal.

and self-partiality may be in all different degrees. It is a lower degree of it which David himself refers to in these words, Who can tell how oft he offendeth? O cleanse thou me from my secret faults. This is the ground This indeed is impossible, to do that which of that advice of Elihu to Job: Surely it is is good and not to approve of it; for which meet to be said unto God, That which I see reason they are frequently not considered as not, teach thou me; if I have done iniquity, I distinct, though they really are: for men will do no more. And Solomon saw this often approve of the actions of others which thing in a very strong light when he said, they will not imitate, and likewise do that He that trusteth his own heart is a fool. This which they approve not. It cannot possibly likewise was the reason why that precept, be denied that there is this principle of re- Know thyself, was so frequently inculcated flection or conscience in human nature. Sup- by the philosophers of old. For if it were pose a man to relieve an innocent person in not for that partial and fond regard to ourgreat distress; suppose the same man after- selves it would certainly be no great difficulty wards, in the fury of anger, to do the greatest to know our own character, what passes mischief to a person who had given no just within the bent and bias of our mind; much cause of offence; to aggravate the injury, less would there be any difficulty in judging add the circumstances of former friendship rightly of our own actions. But from this and obligation from the injured person: let partiality it frequently comes to pass that the man who is supposed to have done these the observation of many men's being themtwo different actions coolly reflect upon themselves last of all acquainted with what falls afterwards, without regard to their consequences to himself: to assert that any common man would be affected in the same way towards these different actions, that he would make no distinction between them, but approve or disapprove them equally, is too glaring an absurdity to need being confuted. There is therefore this principle of reflection or conscience in mankind. It is needless to compare the respect it has to private good with the respect it has to public; since it plainly tends as much to the latter as to the former, and is commonly thought to tend chiefly to the latter. This faculty is now mentioned merely as another part in the inward frame of man, pointing out to us in some degree what we are intended for, and as what will naturally and of course have some influence. Sermon upon Human Nature.

SELF-DECEIT.

There is not anything relating to men and characters, more surprising and unaccountable, than this partiality to themselves which is observable in many; as there is nothing of more melancholy reflection, respecting morality, virtue, and religion. Hence it is that many men seem perfect strangers to their own characters. They think, and reason, and judge quite differently upon any matter relating to themselves from what they do in cases of others where they are not interested. Hence it is one hears people exposing follies which they themselves are eminent for; and talking with great severity against particular vices which, if all the world be not mistaken, they themselves are notoriously guilty of. This self-ignorance

out in their own families may be applied to a nearer home, to what passes within their own breasts.

There is plainly, in the generality of mankind, an absence of doubt or distrust, in a very great measure, as to their moral character and behaviour; and likewise a disposition to take for granted that all is right and well with them in these respects. The former is owing to their not reflecting, not exercising their judgment upon themselves; the latter, to self-love. I am not speaking of that extravagance, which is sometimes to be met with; instances of persons declaring in words at length, that they never were in the wrong, nor ever had any diffidence of the justness of their conduct, in their whole lives. No, these people are too far gone to have anything said to them. The thing before us is indeed of this kind, but in a lower degree, and confined to the moral character; somewhat of which we almost all of us have, without reflecting upon it. Now consider how long and how grossly a person of the best understanding might be imposed upon by one of whom he had not any suspicion, and in whom he placed an entire confidence; especially if there were friendship and real kindness in the case: surely this holds even stronger with respect to that self we are all so fond of. Hence arises in men a disregard of reproof and instruction, rules of conduct and moral discipline, which occasionally come in their way: a disregard, I say, of these; not in every respect, but in this single one, namely, as what may be of service to them in particular towards mending their own hearts and tempers, and making them better men. It never in earnest comes into their thoughts whether such ad