The vulgar are ſwayed by preſent feelings, and the habits which they have accidentally acquired; but on partial feelings much dependence cannot be placed, though they be juſt; for, when they are not invigorated by reflection, cuſtom weakens them, till they are ſcarcely felt. The ſympathies of our nature are ſtrengthened by pondering cogitations, and deadened by thoughtleſs uſe. Mackbeth's heart ſmote him more for one murder, the firſt, than for a hundred ſubſequent ones, which were neceſſary to back it. But, when I uſed the epithet vulgar, I did not mean to confine my remark to the poor, for partial humanity, founded on preſent ſenſations, or whim, is quite as conſpicuous, if not more ſo, amongſt the rich.
The lady who ſheds tears for the bird ſtarved in a ſnare, and execrates the devils in the ſhape of men, who goad to madneſs the poor ox, or whip the patient aſs, tottering under a burden above its ſtrength, will, nevertheleſs, keep her coachman and horſes whole hours waiting for her, when the ſharp froſt bites, or the rain beats againſt the well-cloſed windows which do not admit a breath of air to tell her how roughly the wind blows without. And ſhe who takes her dogs to bed, and nurſes them, with a parade of ſenſibility, when ſick, will ſuffer her babes to grow up crooked in a nurſery. This illuſtration of my argument is drawn from a matter of fact. The woman whom I allude to was handſome, reckoned very handſome, by thoſe who do not miſs the mind when the face is plump and fair; but her underſtanding had not been led from female duties by literature, nor her innocence debauched by
