ge, e of It is certain, that none of the modern Latinists have equaled Virgil and Horace, and that the classical student can no where find entertainment so unmixed as in their original writings. But the daintiest fare that an Apicius ever invented ceased o please when constantly repeated. Nor can he be appetite, who seeks variety in the writing of the Vincent Bourne. There is often a happy union of supposition that Latin was their the beauties that distinguish Ovid, Tibullus, and Martial, in the Carmina Quadragesimalia. Rapin, Vanier, Buchanan, and Browne, seem to have written Latin verse with an ease, which would vernacular language. In miscellaneous publications of our own and other nations, the man of taste will find a multitude of poematia, which he may read with pleasure, and without danger of corrupting the purity of his style. Merely as the means of enjoying a sweet and innocent-pleasure in greater perfection, of filling up a leisure hour with an elegant amusement, the composition of Latin verse may be justly recommended to the affluent and the generous youth, who enjoys, and knows how to value, a liberal education. Others, it must be owned, will be much better employed in learning their pence-table. L2 No. CXLII. On the Insensibility of the Men to the Charms of a Female Mind cultivated with polite and solid Literature. In a Letter. SIR, I AM the only daughter of a clergyman, who, on the death of my mother, which happened when I was about three years old, concentred his affections in me, and thought he could not display his love more effectually than in giving me a good education. His house was situated in a solitary village, and he had but little parochial duty, so that there was scarcely any thing to divert his attention from this object. He had ever been devoted to letters, and considered learning, next to virtue, as the noblest distinction of human nature, As soon as I could read, I was initiated in Lilly's Grammar, and, before I was eight years old, could repeat every rule in it with the greatest accuracy. I was taught indeed all kinds of needle work; but two hours in every day were invariably set apart for my improvement in Latin. I soon perfected myself in the elementary parts, and had read Phædrus and Cornelius Nepos with a strict attention to the grammatical construction of every word and phrase which they contained. From these I was advanced to Virgil and Horace. Under the direction of so good a classic as my father, I soon acquired a taste for their beauties, and not only read them through with great delight, but committed their more beautiful passages to memory, and with the task of instructing the object of his tenderest love, that he resolved to carry my improvements higher, and to open to my view the spacious fields of Grecian literature. The Greek Grammar I mastered with great ease, and I found a sweetness in the language which amply repaid me for the little difficulties I sometimes encountered. From the Greek Testament I proceeded to the Cyropædia of Xenophon, the Orations of Demosthenes, the Dialogues of Plato, and the Iliad and Odyssey of Homer. That I received great improvement from this course cannot be denied; but the pleasure of it alone was to me a sufficient reward. I was enabled to drink at the fountain head, while others were obliged to content themselves with the distant and polluted stream. I found that no translations whatever, however accurately they might exhibit the sense of originals, could express the beauties of the language. I was possessed of a power of inspecting those (volumes, in admiration of which the world has long agreed, but from which my sex has been for the most part unreasonably excluded. It was a noble privilege, and I value myself upon it; but I hope and believe I did not despise those who had not partaken of it solely for want of opportunities. The French and Italian languages became easy after my acquaintance with the Latin, and my father was of opinion that they are indispensably necessary to the modern scholar. In French I read Rollin, Boileau, Fontenelle, Voiture, Bouhours, Bruyère, Rosseau, Voltaire, and Marmontel; in Italian, Petrarch, Tasso, Ariosto, Guicciardin, and the Cortegiano of Castiglione. All these gave me a degree of pleasure, which I am sure none would be without, who are capable of obtaining it. After having laid a foundation in the languages, an early age, my father allowed me to feast without control on the productions of my own country. The learning I had acquired enabled me to read them critically, and to understand all their allusions. The best writers abound so much in quotations, that I cannot help thinking that they who are unacquainted with the ancient languages, must often be mortified at their inability to unlock the concealed treasure. All the classical poets, from Shakspeare to Pope, were my study and delight. History, which my father always recommended as péculiarly suited to adorn the female mind, was a favourite pursuit. I digested Hume and Robertson, and took a pleasure in every biographical anecdote I could collect. After reading a life, or the history of any particular event, I was always desired by my father to give my sentiments upon it in writing; an exercise which I found to be attended with great advantage. I never penetrated deeply into the sciences, yet I could not rest satisfied without a superficial knowledge of astronomy, of the solar system, of experimental philosophy, and of geography mathematical, physical, and political. This little was necessary for rational conversation, and I had neither time nor taste for scientific refinements. Poetry was my delight, and I sometimes wrote it, as the partiality of my poor father led him to assert, in a pleasing manner. I do not make it a merit of my own, because it was entirely owing to my father's direction, that with all my attention to books, I did not neglect the ornamental accomplishments. My father excelled in music, and he taught me to play on the harpsichord. He engaged a good master to instruct me in dancing, and he always cautioned me against that neglect of dress and of accurate cleanliness, ladies in deserved disgrace. He likewise inculcated the necessity of avoiding a pedantic manner of conversation, and strictly charged me never to be overbearing, or to show in the company of others the least appearance of conscious superiority. I believe I may venture to say, that 1 complied with his directions, and that I talked with perfect ease among the superficial, and neither expressed nor felt contempt, except where vanity and affectation were combined with ignorance. Yet, notwithstanding my improvements and my earnest endeavours to prevent them from becoming invidious, I find myself received in the world with less cordiality than I had reason to expect. My own sex stand too much in awe of me to bear me any affection. When I come into their company, an universal silence would prevail, if it were not interrupted by myself. Though I cannot say that I am treated rudely, yet I can easily perceive that the civilities I receive are constrained; and I have every reason to believe, that no small pains are taken to traduce my character, and to ridicule my taste in dress, and all the circumstances of external behaviour. It is kindly hinted, that a little awkwardness and impropriety may be excused in a learned lady, and that dress and decorum are beneath the notice of a poetess. I have no reason to think that my person is particularly disagreeable; yet, I know not how it is, I am avoided by gentlemen who are ambitious of the company of other ladies. They have dropped, in the hearing of some of my friends, that though they think me extremely clever, yet they cannot reconcile the ideas of female attractions and the knowledge of the Greek. They do not mean to detract from my praise; but they must own, that I am not the woman after their hearts. They enter |