As an argument in favour of modern manners, it has been pleaded, that the softer vices of Luxury and Diſſipation, belong rather to gentle and yielding tempers, than to such as are rugged and ferocious: that they are vices which increaſe civilization, and tend to promote refinement, and the cultivation of humanity.

But this is an aſſertion, the truth of which the experience of all ages contradicts. Nero was not leſs a tyrant for being a fiddler: He[2] who wiſhed the whole Roman people had but one neck, that he might diſpatch them at a blow, was himſelf the moſt debauched man in Rome; and Sydney and Ruſſel were condemned to bleed under the moſt barbarous, though moſt diſſipated and voluptuous, reign that ever diſgraced the annals of Britain.

The love of diſſipation is, I believe, allowed to be the reigning evil of the preſent day. It is an evil which many content themſelves with regretting, without ſeeking to redreſs. A diſſipated life is cenſured in the very act of diſſipation, and prodigality of time is as gravely declaimed againſt at the card table, as in the pulpit.

The lover of dancing cenſures the amuſements of the theatre for their dulneſs, and the gameſter blames them both for their levity. She, whoſe whole ſoul is ſwallowed up in "opera extacies" is aſtoniſhed, that her acquaintance can ſpend whole nights in preying, like harpies, on the fortunes of their fellow-creatures; while the grave ſober ſinner, who paſſes her pale and anxious vigils, in this faſhionable ſort of pillaging, is no leſs ſurpriſed how the other can waſte her precious time in hearing ſounds for which ſhe has no taſte, in a language ſhe does not underſtand.

In ſhort, every one ſeems convinced, that the evil ſo much complained of does really exiſt ſomewhere, though all are inwardly perſuaded that it is not with themſelves. All deſire a general reformation, but few will liſten to propoſals of particular amendment; the body muſt be reſtored, but each limb begs to remain as it is; and accuſations which concern all, will be likely to affect none. They think that ſin, like matter, is diviſible, and that what is ſcattered among so many, cannot materially affect any one; and thus individuals contribute ſeparately to that evil which they in general lament.

The prevailing manners of an age depend more than we are aware, or are willing to allow, on the conduct of the women; this is one of the principal hinges on which the great machine of human ſociety turns. Thoſe who allow the influence which female graces have, in contributing to poliſh the manners of men, would do well to reflect how great an influence female morals muſt alſo have on their conduct. How much then is it to be regretted, that the Britiſh ladies ſhould ever ſit down contented to poliſh, when they are able to reform, to entertain, when they might inſtruct, and to dazzle for an hour, when they are candidates for eternity!

Under the diſpenſation of Mahomet's law, indeed, theſe mental excellencies cannot be expected, becauſe the women are ſhut out from all opportunities of inſtruction, and excluded from the endearing pleaſures of a delightful and equal ſociety; and, as a charming poet ſings, are taught to believe, that

These act conſiſtently in ſtudying none but exterior graces, in cultivating only perſonal attractions, and in trying to lighten the intolerable burden of time, by the moſt frivolous and vain amuſements. They act in conſequence of their own blind belief, and the tyranny of their deſpotic maſters; for they have neither the freedom of a preſent choice, nor the proſpect of a future being.

But in this land of civil and religious liberty, where there is as little deſpotiſm exerciſed over the minds, as over the perſons of women, they have every liberty of choice, and every opportunity of improvement; and how greatly does this increaſe their obligation to be exemplary in their general conduct, attentive to the government of their families, and inſtrumental to the good order of ſociety!

She who is at a loſs to find amuſements at home, can no longer apologize for her diſſipation abroad, by ſaying ſhe is deprived of the benefit and the pleaſure of books; and ſhe who regrets being doomed to a ſtate of dark and gloomy ignorance, by the injuſtice, or tyranny of the men, complains of an evil which does not exiſt.

It is a queſtion frequently in the mouths of illiterate and diſſipated females—"What good is there in reading? To what end does it conduce?" It is, however, too obvious to need inſiſting on, that unleſs perverted, as the beſt things may be, reading anſwers many excellent purpoſes beſide the great leading one, and is perhaps the ſafeſt remedy for diſſipation. She who dedicates a portion of her leiſure to uſeful reading, feels her mind in a conſtant progreſſive ſtate of improvement, whilſt the mind of a diſſipated woman is continually loſing ground. An active ſpirit rejoiceth, like the ſun, to run his daily courſe, while indolence, like the dial of Ahaz, goes backwards. The advantages which the underſtanding receives from polite literature, it is not here neceſſary to enumerate; its effects on the moral temper is the preſent object of conſideration. The remark may perhaps be thought too ſtrong, but I believe it is true, that next to religious influences, an habit of ſtudy is the moſt probable preſervative of the virtue of young perſons. Thoſe who cultivate letters have rarely a ſtrong paſſion for promiſcuous viſiting, or diſſipated ſociety; ſtudy therefore induces a reliſh for domeſtic life, the moſt deſirable temper in the world for women. Study, as it reſcues the mind from an inordinate fondneſs for gaming, dreſs, and public amuſements, is an [oe]conomical propenſity; for a lady may read at much leſs expence than ſhe can play at cards; as it requires ſome application, it gives the mind an habit of induſtry; as it is a relief againſt that mental diſeaſe, which the French emphatically call ennui, it cannot fail of being beneficial to the temper and ſpirits, I mean in the moderate degree in which ladies are ſuppoſed to uſe it; as an enemy to indolence, it becomes a ſocial virtue; as it demands the full exertion of our talents, it grows a rational duty; and when directed to the knowledge of the Supreme Being, and his laws, it riſes into an act of religion.

The rage for reformation commonly ſhews itſelf in a violent zeal for ſuppreſſing what is wrong, rather than in a prudent attention to eſtabliſh what is right; but we ſhall never obtain a fair garden merely by rooting up weeds, we muſt alſo plant flowers; for the natural richneſs of the ſoil we have been clearing will not ſuffer it to lie barren, but whether it ſhall be vainly or beneficially prolific, depends on the culture. What the preſent age has gained on one ſide, by a more enlarged and liberal way of thinking, ſeems to be loſt on the other, by exceſſive freedom and unbounded indulgence. Knowledge is not, as heretofore, confined to the dull cloyſter, or the gloomy college, but diſſeminated, to a certain degree, among both ſexes and almoſt all ranks. The only miſfortune is, that theſe opportunities do not ſeem to be ſo wiſely improved, or turned to ſo good an account as might be wiſhed. Books of a pernicious, idle, and frivolous ſort, are too much multiplied, and it is from the very redundancy of them that true knowledge is ſo ſcarce, and the habit of diſſipation ſo much increaſed.

It has been remarked, that the prevailing character of the preſent age is not that of groſs immorality: but if this is meant of thoſe in the higher walks of life, it is eaſy to diſcern, that there can be but little merit in abſtaining from crimes which there is but little temptation to commit. It is however to be feared, that a gradual defection from piety, will in time draw after it all the bad conſequences of more active vice; for whether mounds and fences are ſuddenly deſtroyed by a ſweeping torrent, or worn away through gradual neglect, the effect is equally deſtructive. As a rapid fever and a conſuming hectic are alike fatal to our natural health, ſo are flagrant immorality and torpid indolence to our moral well-being.

The philoſophical doctrine of the ſlow receſſion of bodies from the ſun, is a lively image of the reluctance with which we firſt abandon the light of virtue. The beginning of folly, and the firſt entrance on a diſſipated life coſt ſome pangs to a well-diſpoſed heart; but it is ſurpriſing to ſee how ſoon the progreſs ceaſes to be impeded by reflection, or ſlackened by remorſe. For it is in moral as in natural things, the motion in minds as well as bodies is accelerated by a nearer approach to the centre to which they are tending. If we recede ſlowly at firſt ſetting out, we advance rapidly in our future courſe; and to have begun to be wrong, is already to have made a great progreſs.

A constant habit of amuſement relaxes the tone of the mind, and renders it totally incapable of application, ſtudy, or virtue. Diſſipation not only indiſpoſes its votaries to every thing uſeful and excellent, but diſqualifies them for the enjoyment of pleaſure itſelf. It ſoftens the ſoul ſo much, that the moſt ſuperficial employment becomes a labour, and the ſlighteſt inconvenience an agony. The luxurious Sybarite muſt have loſt all ſenſe of real enjoyment, and all reliſh for true gratification, before he complained that he could not ſleep, becauſe the roſe leaves lay double under him.

Luxury and diſſipation, ſoft and gentle as their approaches are, and ſilently as they throw their ſilken chains about the heart, enſlave it more than the moſt active and turbulent vices. The mightieſt conquerors have been conquered by theſe unarmed foes: the flowery ſetters are faſtened, before they are felt. The blandiſhments of Circe were more fatal to the mariners of Ulyſſes, than the ſtrength of Polypheme, or the brutality of the LÆſtrigons. Hercules, after he had cleanſed the Augean ſtable, and performed all the other labours enjoined him by Euriſtheus, found himſelf a ſlave to the ſoftneſſes of the heart; and he, who wore a club and a lion's ſkin in the cauſe of virtue, condeſcended to the moſt effeminate employments to gratify a criminal weakneſs. Hannibal, who vanquiſhed mighty nations, was himſelf overcome by the love of pleaſure; and he who deſpiſed cold, and want, and danger, and death on the Alps, was conquered and undone by the diſſolute indulgences of Capua.

Before the hero of the moſt beautiful and virtuous romance that ever was written, I mean Telemachus, landed on the iſland of Cyprus, he unfortunately loſt his prudent companion, Mentor, in whom wiſdom is ſo finely perſonified. At firſt he beheld with horror the wanton and diſſolute manners of the voluptuous inhabitants; the ill effects of their example were not immediate: he did not fall into the commiſſion of glaring enormities; but his virtue was ſecretly and imperceptibly undermined, his heart was ſoftened by their pernicious ſociety; and the nerve of reſolution was ſlackened: he every day beheld with diminiſhed indignation the worſhip which was offered to Venus; the diſorders of luxury and prophaneneſs became leſs and leſs terrible, and the infectious air of the country enfeebled his courage, and relaxed his principles. In ſhort, he had ceaſed to love virtue long before he thought of committing actual vice; and the duties of a manly piety were burdenſome to him, before he was ſo debaſed as to offer perfumes, and burn incenſe on the altar of the licentious goddeſs[3].

"Let us crown ourſelves with roſebuds before they be withered," ſaid Solomon's libertine. Alas! he did not reflect that they withered in the very gathering. The roſes of pleaſure ſeldom laſt long enough to adorn the brow of him who plucks them; for they are the only roſes which do not retain their ſweetneſs after they have loſt their beauty.

The heathen poets often preſſed on their readers the neceſſity of conſidering the ſhortneſs of life, as an incentive to pleaſure and voluptuouſneſs; leſt the ſeaſon for indulging in them ſhould paſs unimproved. The dark and uncertain notions, not to ſay the abſolute diſbelief, which they entertained of a future ſtate, is the only apology that can be offered for this reaſoning. But while we cenſure their tenets, let us not adopt their errors; errors which would be infinitely more inexcuſable in us, who, from the clearer views which revelation has given us, ſhall not have their ignorance or their doubts to plead. It were well if we availed ourſelves of that portion of their precept, which inculcates the improvement of every moment of our time, but not like them to dedicate the moments ſo redeemed to the purſuit of ſenſual and periſhable pleaſures, but to the ſecuring of thoſe which are ſpiritual in their nature, and eternal in their duration.

If, indeed, like the miſerable[4] beings imagined by Swift, with a view to cure us of the irrational deſire after immoderate length of days, we were condemned to a wretched earthly immortality, we ſhould have an excuſe for ſpending ſome portion of our time in diſſipation, as we might then pretend, with ſome colour of reaſon, that we propoſed, at a diſtant period, to enter on a better courſe of action. Or if we never formed any ſuch reſolution, it would make no material difference to beings, whoſe ſtate was already unalterably fixed. But of the ſcanty portion of days aſſigned to our lot, not one ſhould be loſt in weak and irreſolute procraſtination.

Those who have not yet determined on the ſide of vanity, who, like Hercules, (before he knew the queen of Lydia, and had learnt to ſpin) have not reſolved on their choice between virtue and pleasure, may reflect, that it is ſtill in their power to imitate that hero in his noble choice, and in his virtuous rejection. They may alſo reflect with grateful triumph, that Chriſtianity furniſhes them with a better guide than the tutor of Alcides, and with a ſurer light than the doctrines of pagan philoſophy.

It is far from my deſign ſeverely to condemn the innocent pleaſures of life: I would only beg leave to obſerve, that thoſe which are criminal ſhould never be allowed; and that even the moſt innocent will, by immoderate uſe, ſoon ceaſe to be ſo.

The women of this country were not ſent into the world to ſhun ſociety, but to embelliſh it; they were not deſigned for wilds and ſolitudes, but for the amiable and endearing offices of ſocial life. They have uſeful ſtations to fill, and important characters to ſuſtain. They are of a religion which does not impoſe penances, but enjoins duties; a religion of perfect purity, but of perfect benevolence alſo. A religion which does not condemn its followers to indolent ſecluſion from the world, but aſſigns them the more dangerous, though more honourable province, of living uncorrupted in it. In fine, a religion, which does not direct them to fly from the multitude, that they may do nothing, but which poſitively forbids them to follow a multitude to do evil.