This might lead one into too proud a thought in favour of a sex
too contemptuously treated by some _other_ wits I could name, who,
indeed, are the less to be regarded, as they love to jest upon all God
Almighty's works: yet might I better do it, too, than anybody, since I
am so infinitely transcended by my husband, that no competition, pride
or vanity, could be apprehended from me.
But, however, I would only beg of those who are so free in their
contempts of us, that they would, for _their own sakes_ (and that,
with such generally goes a great way), rather try to _improve_ than
_depreciate_ us: we should then make better daughters, better wives,
better mothers, and better mistresses: and who (permit me, Sir, to
ask them) would be so much the better for these opportunities and
amendments, as our upbraiders themselves!
On re-perusing this, I must repeatedly beg your excuse for these proud
notions in behalf of my sex, which, I can truly say, are not owing to
partiality because, I have the honour to be one of it; but to a far
better motive; for what does this contemptuous treatment of one half,
if not the better half, of the human species, naturally produce, but
libertinism and abandoned wickedness? for does it not tend to make
the daughters, the sisters, the wives of gentlemen, the subjects of
profligate attempts?--Does it not render the sex vile in the eyes of
the most vile? And when a lady is no longer beheld by such persons
with that dignity and reverence, with which perhaps, the graces of her
person, and the innocence of her mind, should sacredly, as it were,
encompass her, do not her very excellencies become so many incentives
for base wretches to attempt her virtue, and bring about her ruin?
What then may not wicked wit have to answer for, when its possessors
prostitute it to such unmanly purposes! And as if they had never had
a mother, a sister, a daughter of their own, throw down, as much as in
them lies, those sacred fences which may lay the fair inclosure open
to the invasions of every clumsier and viler beast of prey; who,
though destitute of _their_ wit, yet corrupted by it, shall fill
their mouths, as well as their hearts, with the borrowed mischief,
and propagate it from one to another to the end of time; and who,
otherwise, would have passed by the uninvaded fence, and only shewed
their teeth, and snarled at the well secured fold within it?
You cannot, my dearest Mr.
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