it is not very difficult to fulfil with ſcrupulous exactneſs when vice reigns in the heart.
Women ought to endeavour to purify their heart; but can they do ſo when their uncultivated underſtandings make them entirely dependent on their ſenſes for employment and amuſement, when no noble purſuit ſets them above the little vanities of the day, or enables them to curb the wild emotions that agitate a reed over which every paſſing breeze has power? To gain the affections of a virtuous man is affectation neceſſary? Nature has given woman a weaker frame than man; but, to enſure her huſband's affections, muſt a wife, who by the exerciſe of her mind and body whilſt ſhe was diſcharging the duties of a daughter, wife, and mother, has allowed her conſtitution to retain its natural ſtrength, and her nerves a healthy tone, is ſhe, I ſay, to condeſcend to uſe art and feign a ſickly delicacy in order to ſecure her huſband's affection? Weakneſs may excite tenderneſs, and gratify the arrogant pride of man; but the lordly careſſes of a protector will not gratify a noble mind that pants for, and deſerves to be reſpected. Fondneſs is a poor ſubſtitute for friendſhip!
In a ſeraglio, I grant, that all theſe arts are neceſſary; the epicure muſt have his palate tickled, or he will ſink into apathy; but have women ſo little ambition as to be ſatisfied with ſuch a condition? Can they ſupinely dream life away in the lap of pleaſure, or the languor of wearineſs, rather than aſſert their claim to purſue reaſonable pleaſures and render themſelves conſpicuous by practiſing the virtues which dignify mankind? Surely
