of nerves and vigour of muſcles, which ariſe from bodily labour, when the mind is quieſcent, or only directs the hands.
Dr. Prieſtley has remarked, in the preface to his biographical chart, that the majority of great men have lived beyond forty-five. And, conſidering the thoughtleſs manner in which they have laviſhed their ſtrength, when inveſtigating a favourite ſcience they have waſted the lamp of life, forgetful of the midnight hour; or, when loſt in poetic dreams, fancy has peopled the ſcene, and the ſoul has been diſturbed, till it ſhook the conſtitution, by the paſſions that meditation had raiſed; whoſe objects, the baſeleſs fabric of a viſion, faded before the exhauſted eye, they muſt have had iron frames. Shakeſpeare never graſped the airy dagger with a nerveleſs hand, nor did Milton tremble when he led Satan far from the confines of his dreary priſon.—Theſe were not the ravings of imbecility, the ſickly effuſions of diſtempered brains; but the exuberance of fancy, that 'in a fine phrenzy' wandering, was not continually reminded of its material ſhackles.
I am aware that this argument would carry me further than it may be ſuppoſed I wiſh to go; but I follow truth, and, ſtill adhering to my firſt poſition, I will allow that bodily ſtrength ſeems to give man a natural ſuperiority over woman; and this is the only ſolid baſis on which the ſuperiority of the ſex can be built. But I ſtill inſiſt, that not only the virtue, but the knowledge of the two ſexes ſhould be the ſame in nature, if not in degree, and that women, conſidered not only as moral, but rational creatures,
ought