work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
4891,"","Reading Peter Walmsley's The Rhetoric of Berkeley's Philosophy (Cambridge UP, 2006), 1.",2004-01-09 00:00:00 UTC,"[...] Dr Berkeley had formerly made his addresses to Mrs Donnellan, what were her reasons for refusing him I know not; friends were consenting, circumstances equal, her opinion captivated, but perhaps an aversion to the cares of married life, & apprehensions from some Particularities in his temper hinder'd the match; hoever their friendship always continued, & I have always heard her give him for virtues & talents the preference to all Mankind, still his admirers say he excelled every one in teh arts of conversation; as to his writings they are some of them too subtile to be even the object of most peoples consideration. He has had the hard fate of not convincing any one, tho he cannot be confuted; a judgment of his metaphysical works must be pass'd by superior intelligences, it falls not within the measure of 5 senses. I have heard that his understanding was rather hurt by the absolute retirement in which he lived, and indeed he had an imagination too lively to be trusted to itself; the treasures of it were inexhaustible, but for want of commerce with mankind he made that rich oar into bright but useless medals which wd otherwise have been stamp'd into current coin, fit for the use & service of mankind: he considered them as pernicious to the public which is partly true, yet so happily have things been Contrived by the allwise artificer that not a vanity is given in vain. Ambition, avarice, & many passions that hurt the wearer serve the public weal. I do not mean that such persons should not be discouraged, but that we should not always be as much in wrath as others appear in the wrong. Every honest & gratefull man would have hazarded even his life for such a Person as Dr Berkeley, & what can one say for Dr Frewin's behaviour? I suppose he must excuse himself on the accounts representing the Bishop as already dead. I think it was happy for that good man he could not be recall'd; so to end the heart ache & the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, is a consumation devoutly to be wish'd, but when one considers this to be the Eve to an Eternal day how happy!
(pp. 2-3)",2011-05-20,13180,"•INTEREST. USE IN ENTRY
•I've included thrice: Ore, Medals, Coin. Note the pun on ""commerce.""
•Previous review 2007-04-26","""I have heard that his understanding was rather hurt by the absolute retirement in which he lived, and indeed he had an imagination too lively to be trusted to itself; the treasures of it were inexhaustible, but for want of commerce with mankind he made that rich oar into bright but useless medals which wd otherwise have been stamp'd into current coin, fit for the use & service of mankind.""","Coinage, Impressions, and Metal",2012-04-12 19:04:46 UTC,Letter to Gilbert West of 28 January 1753
6983,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:18:05 UTC,"How little likelihood is there, that a man who, with all the assiduity, all the compliance, all the arts which the desire of pleasing inspires him with, whilst a lover, cannot obtain a favourable thought, should at once become amiable in those very eyes which before regarded him with aversion, and dear to that heart which shrunk at his approach, from the moment that he is adorned with the title of husband! When from the humble, crawling slave, who dreaded her frown, the mean wretch begins to strut about, full of the sense of his new prerogatives, and puffed up almost to bursting, with the pride of having a creature every way his superior in his power, and bound to obey him. Oh Sir, you who could paint so well the man of wisdom tugging at the leading-strings of his pretty fool, to restrain her from embracing a serpent; paint, I beseech you, the lovely, the wise, the noble, the good Clarissa, not in leading-strings, but in chains; (for tyranny is the triumph of low minds, and almost the sure consequence of power in the hands of a fool) her hands manacled, her feet fettered down to earth, her head bowed down with shame and dejection of soul, and her face covered with blushes for the ridiculous, contemptible appearance and behaviour of her husband. Her shoulders heavy laden with her marriage yoke, and her agreeable yoke-fellow leaving the whole weight of it to her, whilst he affects to look big, and to put on an air of superiority and command, which increases in proportion to her meekness and readiness to obey; no way for her to oblige him, since he looks on the most painful compliances as her duty, and his due. The constant drudgery of dissimulation which she must submit to, in order to behave as she ought, and to appear to perform her engagement to , either effectually deceives him, (and then he plumes himself on her fondness, thinks his irresistible charms have captivated her, and that let him behave as he will, the poor, fond fool cannot help loving him), or else, if he sees through her struggles to oblige him, and perceives the force she puts upon herself, he has not delicacy enough to be hurt by it, but building on her virtue and conscience, cares not to please her, or to soften her slavery; well knowing that let her hate him as she will, she will still do her duty by him. This is the lot, of which you say that you will not think highly of that woman's prudence, who, after a while, could not reconcile herself tolerably to it; especially if children follow the marriage. Alas! children which are the greatest blessings in a happy marriage, would in this case bring with them fresh grief and mortification to the unhappy mother, who would see them absurdly, if not cruelly treated; and if her husband interfered at all in their education, see their minds poisoned with the mean notions and bad maxims, as well as by the example of their father; and her own instructions, if she gives them any, must be directly opposite to his. Prudence may enable her to behave with decency and patience in such calamities, but will it prevent her feeling them? Will it restore that inward peace and joy, which her implicit obedience has robbed her of ? Yet such is the eligible condition in which the wise, the experienced part of the world, take such infinite pains to place their children; such the Lord to whom they would sell and enslave the darling of their hearts, for whom they have treasured up their gain, and from whom, as from a rising sun, they expect to have lustre and gladness cast on the winter of their days. Is it possible that experience should produce error, and that the exemption of old people from the passions of youth, should be no better a privilege than to leave room for the love of money, which seems then to engross the whole soul, and to fill up the place of all the other passions! Does the soul (one would be almost tempted to ask) contract and shrivel up with old age, like the body? And can time wither even virtue?
(pp. 58-61)",,18820,"","""Is it possible that experience should produce error, and that the exemption of old people from the passions of youth, should be no better a privilege than to leave room for the love of money, which seems then to engross the whole soul, and to fill up the place of all the other passions!""","",2011-06-27 18:18:05 UTC,""
6983,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:19:11 UTC,"How little likelihood is there, that a man who, with all the assiduity, all the compliance, all the arts which the desire of pleasing inspires him with, whilst a lover, cannot obtain a favourable thought, should at once become amiable in those very eyes which before regarded him with aversion, and dear to that heart which shrunk at his approach, from the moment that he is adorned with the title of husband! When from the humble, crawling slave, who dreaded her frown, the mean wretch begins to strut about, full of the sense of his new prerogatives, and puffed up almost to bursting, with the pride of having a creature every way his superior in his power, and bound to obey him. Oh Sir, you who could paint so well the man of wisdom tugging at the leading-strings of his pretty fool, to restrain her from embracing a serpent; paint, I beseech you, the lovely, the wise, the noble, the good Clarissa, not in leading-strings, but in chains; (for tyranny is the triumph of low minds, and almost the sure consequence of power in the hands of a fool) her hands manacled, her feet fettered down to earth, her head bowed down with shame and dejection of soul, and her face covered with blushes for the ridiculous, contemptible appearance and behaviour of her husband. Her shoulders heavy laden with her marriage yoke, and her agreeable yoke-fellow leaving the whole weight of it to her, whilst he affects to look big, and to put on an air of superiority and command, which increases in proportion to her meekness and readiness to obey; no way for her to oblige him, since he looks on the most painful compliances as her duty, and his due. The constant drudgery of dissimulation which she must submit to, in order to behave as she ought, and to appear to perform her engagement to , either effectually deceives him, (and then he plumes himself on her fondness, thinks his irresistible charms have captivated her, and that let him behave as he will, the poor, fond fool cannot help loving him), or else, if he sees through her struggles to oblige him, and perceives the force she puts upon herself, he has not delicacy enough to be hurt by it, but building on her virtue and conscience, cares not to please her, or to soften her slavery; well knowing that let her hate him as she will, she will still do her duty by him. This is the lot, of which you say that you will not think highly of that woman's prudence, who, after a while, could not reconcile herself tolerably to it; especially if children follow the marriage. Alas! children which are the greatest blessings in a happy marriage, would in this case bring with them fresh grief and mortification to the unhappy mother, who would see them absurdly, if not cruelly treated; and if her husband interfered at all in their education, see their minds poisoned with the mean notions and bad maxims, as well as by the example of their father; and her own instructions, if she gives them any, must be directly opposite to his. Prudence may enable her to behave with decency and patience in such calamities, but will it prevent her feeling them? Will it restore that inward peace and joy, which her implicit obedience has robbed her of ? Yet such is the eligible condition in which the wise, the experienced part of the world, take such infinite pains to place their children; such the Lord to whom they would sell and enslave the darling of their hearts, for whom they have treasured up their gain, and from whom, as from a rising sun, they expect to have lustre and gladness cast on the winter of their days. Is it possible that experience should produce error, and that the exemption of old people from the passions of youth, should be no better a privilege than to leave room for the love of money, which seems then to engross the whole soul, and to fill up the place of all the other passions! Does the soul (one would be almost tempted to ask) contract and shrivel up with old age, like the body? And can time wither even virtue?
(pp. 58-61)",,18821,"","""Does the soul (one would be almost tempted to ask) contract and shrivel up with old age, like the body?""","",2011-06-27 18:19:11 UTC,""
6983,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:21:18 UTC,"Don't think me insolently pert upon old people. Believe me, a virtuous and wise old age is the object of my sincerest reverence and highest esteem. I confess the great advantage which experience gives to a good understanding, and the happy opportunities which that calm season of life allows for the greater progress of virtue, and for a more uninterrupted attention to the duties of religion. I think it is reasonable to suppose, that as it is the grand business of our lives to endeavour to rise by degrees to that stale of excellence and happiness which is the ultimate end of our being, he who has made this his vocation, and has spent his life in pressing forward to the prize of his high calling, will be nearer the attainment of perfection in an advanced age, than he who has but begun his race can be, with whatever ardour and diligence he sets out. But yet, my dear Sir, you who have by an amazing strength of thought and penetration, and unwearied observation, gained so much more knowledge of the world, and of the human heart, than the longest life gives to others; whose zeal for doing good, whose benevolence and friendship have all the warmth of youth, though guided by maturest judgment; who have too much real dignity to need to usurp upon our respect, or to exact that deference to your years which is due to your wisdom and virtue; you, I say, may speak impartially on this subject, and I may tell to you, without fear of offending, my observations on those who claim our acquiescence in all their opinions, from their superiority of years and experience. And you will shew me where my observations are false, and teach me how to make the best use of those which are true. What shall I think of human nature, and how shall I avoid dreading the continuance of my life, lest, instead of improving, I should be more and more corrupted by the world; more selfish, more ungenerous, more contracted in my views, more earthly in my affections, when I see those who in their youth had hearts capable of delicate sentiments, who were open, generous, sincere, and benevolent, gentle, cheerful, and agreeable in their tempers, innocent in their manners, and unaffected in their piety; when I see these very people, in an advanced age, grown cold to all tender and good affections; close and designing; covetous and mean; insensible to the pains of others, and slow, if not unwilling, to relieve them; rigid in their precepts, yet self-indulgent, full of reverence for themselves, and of contempt for youth, peevish, imperious, tyrannical, and self-conceited, yet manifestly weak in judgment, and dull of apprehension? I am sure you must have known instances of such who, in the early part of their lives, obtained, and perhaps deserved, the former character, sunk into the sad, the pitiable state I have described, in their last stage. Is it that a long commerce with the world does indeed corrupt the heart; and extinguish by degrees those sparks of light, those inclinations to good, which were implanted in our minds? Or is it rather to be attributed to the seeds of original evil, which grow with our years, and overspread the whole soul? But though there are some instances of this melancholy change for the worse, there are doubtless many of improvement and reformation; therefore perhaps this observation may be to no purpose here, unless it shews that a superiority of years does not always give real superiority; and that parents are sometimes the less qualified to judge of the real good and happiness of their children for being so much older than they, for having lost the tenderness and sensibility of their hearts, without adding much to the strength and capacity of their heads.
(p. 62-5)",,18822,"","""Is it that a long commerce with the world does indeed corrupt the heart; and extinguish by degrees those sparks of light, those inclinations to good, which were implanted in our minds?""","",2011-06-27 18:21:18 UTC,""
6983,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:22:26 UTC,"Don't think me insolently pert upon old people. Believe me, a virtuous and wise old age is the object of my sincerest reverence and highest esteem. I confess the great advantage which experience gives to a good understanding, and the happy opportunities which that calm season of life allows for the greater progress of virtue, and for a more uninterrupted attention to the duties of religion. I think it is reasonable to suppose, that as it is the grand business of our lives to endeavour to rise by degrees to that stale of excellence and happiness which is the ultimate end of our being, he who has made this his vocation, and has spent his life in pressing forward to the prize of his high calling, will be nearer the attainment of perfection in an advanced age, than he who has but begun his race can be, with whatever ardour and diligence he sets out. But yet, my dear Sir, you who have by an amazing strength of thought and penetration, and unwearied observation, gained so much more knowledge of the world, and of the human heart, than the longest life gives to others; whose zeal for doing good, whose benevolence and friendship have all the warmth of youth, though guided by maturest judgment; who have too much real dignity to need to usurp upon our respect, or to exact that deference to your years which is due to your wisdom and virtue; you, I say, may speak impartially on this subject, and I may tell to you, without fear of offending, my observations on those who claim our acquiescence in all their opinions, from their superiority of years and experience. And you will shew me where my observations are false, and teach me how to make the best use of those which are true. What shall I think of human nature, and how shall I avoid dreading the continuance of my life, lest, instead of improving, I should be more and more corrupted by the world; more selfish, more ungenerous, more contracted in my views, more earthly in my affections, when I see those who in their youth had hearts capable of delicate sentiments, who were open, generous, sincere, and benevolent, gentle, cheerful, and agreeable in their tempers, innocent in their manners, and unaffected in their piety; when I see these very people, in an advanced age, grown cold to all tender and good affections; close and designing; covetous and mean; insensible to the pains of others, and slow, if not unwilling, to relieve them; rigid in their precepts, yet self-indulgent, full of reverence for themselves, and of contempt for youth, peevish, imperious, tyrannical, and self-conceited, yet manifestly weak in judgment, and dull of apprehension? I am sure you must have known instances of such who, in the early part of their lives, obtained, and perhaps deserved, the former character, sunk into the sad, the pitiable state I have described, in their last stage. Is it that a long commerce with the world does indeed corrupt the heart; and extinguish by degrees those sparks of light, those inclinations to good, which were implanted in our minds? Or is it rather to be attributed to the seeds of original evil, which grow with our years, and overspread the whole soul? But though there are some instances of this melancholy change for the worse, there are doubtless many of improvement and reformation; therefore perhaps this observation may be to no purpose here, unless it shews that a superiority of years does not always give real superiority; and that parents are sometimes the less qualified to judge of the real good and happiness of their children for being so much older than they, for having lost the tenderness and sensibility of their hearts, without adding much to the strength and capacity of their heads.
(p. 62-5)",,18823,"","""Or is it rather to be attributed to the seeds of original evil, which grow with our years, and overspread the whole soul?""","",2011-06-27 18:22:26 UTC,""
6984,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:26:14 UTC,"With regard to the other texts of scripture you have cited, I am sure I never meant, and I humbly presume Mr. Locke never meant, to maintain a doctrine contradictory to them. (Don't you cry hum! now.) Many of them plainly relate to minors only, as where they mention the rod, and chastening their sons; for I am sure you will not allow that a man should be beaten. For the rest, which command obedience to parents, they can only be understood to mean a reasonable obedience; such as is consistent with the liberty of a rational creature.--But there is one text which makes me wish to understand Hebrew; and that is the advice of the wise man, "" Shew not thyself cheerful towards thy daughters."" Methinks I have a great curiosity to know what that word is in the original, which is here translated cheerful. If it indeed means the same thing, I must say that it is a true Eastern precept. But the consequences of it, in this part of the world, would, I imagine, be such as no wise man would wish for. If the parent will not shew himself cheerful before his daughters, of course they will not dare to be cheerful before him. They will therefore shun and fly from his presence, and never think themselves happy but when they are out of his sight; for who can be easy under perpetual restrain? They will be so far from considering him as their best friend, from opening their hearts to him, and trusting him with their most secret wishes and designs, that they will not dare to declare any one sentiment or opinion before him, and he will be more a stranger to their minds than any one person of their acquaintance. How then shall his counsel direct them, his experience inform them, or his virtue mend their hearts? They will indeed consider him with awe and fear; but who would wish to be observed from fear alone, who knows how much more assiduous and ready are the services of love! The fear of offending, and the desire of pleasing, are the inseparable attendants of love; but servile fear, and distant awe, will always chill the warmth of affection, and produce a constrained and painful submission. He may confine their bodies; but the free soul will be out of his power, which only love and gratitude can bind. These sentiments, dear sir, I know are your own. You could not possibly suppose, (although you took the pains to justify yourself from it) that I could ever suspect you of being capable of tyranny; have I not said that tyranny is the triumph of low minds ? it can never therefore be yours. It is the privilege of the good, to establish their empire in the hearts of their dependents; this is the triumph of my dear Mr. Richardson; and then indeed does his excellent heart exult, when he sees every one the happier and better for their connexion with him!--I am sure you did not mean to recommend severe restraint, unless to shameless daughters only. Such as the abandoned Lady V----, the wretched Delia, the delicate lady, who threatens her father that she will marry the first shoe-boy she meets, and the rest of the flame-coloured taffefy nymphs, who do so much honour to the fair sex.
(p. 118-21)",,18824,"","""He may confine their bodies; but the free soul will be out of his power, which only love and gratitude can bind.""","",2011-06-27 18:26:14 UTC,""
6984,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:27:07 UTC,"With regard to the other texts of scripture you have cited, I am sure I never meant, and I humbly presume Mr. Locke never meant, to maintain a doctrine contradictory to them. (Don't you cry hum! now.) Many of them plainly relate to minors only, as where they mention the rod, and chastening their sons; for I am sure you will not allow that a man should be beaten. For the rest, which command obedience to parents, they can only be understood to mean a reasonable obedience; such as is consistent with the liberty of a rational creature.--But there is one text which makes me wish to understand Hebrew; and that is the advice of the wise man, "" Shew not thyself cheerful towards thy daughters."" Methinks I have a great curiosity to know what that word is in the original, which is here translated cheerful. If it indeed means the same thing, I must say that it is a true Eastern precept. But the consequences of it, in this part of the world, would, I imagine, be such as no wise man would wish for. If the parent will not shew himself cheerful before his daughters, of course they will not dare to be cheerful before him. They will therefore shun and fly from his presence, and never think themselves happy but when they are out of his sight; for who can be easy under perpetual restrain? They will be so far from considering him as their best friend, from opening their hearts to him, and trusting him with their most secret wishes and designs, that they will not dare to declare any one sentiment or opinion before him, and he will be more a stranger to their minds than any one person of their acquaintance. How then shall his counsel direct them, his experience inform them, or his virtue mend their hearts? They will indeed consider him with awe and fear; but who would wish to be observed from fear alone, who knows how much more assiduous and ready are the services of love! The fear of offending, and the desire of pleasing, are the inseparable attendants of love; but servile fear, and distant awe, will always chill the warmth of affection, and produce a constrained and painful submission. He may confine their bodies; but the free soul will be out of his power, which only love and gratitude can bind. These sentiments, dear sir, I know are your own. You could not possibly suppose, (although you took the pains to justify yourself from it) that I could ever suspect you of being capable of tyranny; have I not said that tyranny is the triumph of low minds ? it can never therefore be yours. It is the privilege of the good, to establish their empire in the hearts of their dependents; this is the triumph of my dear Mr. Richardson; and then indeed does his excellent heart exult, when he sees every one the happier and better for their connexion with him!--I am sure you did not mean to recommend severe restraint, unless to shameless daughters only. Such as the abandoned Lady V----, the wretched Delia, the delicate lady, who threatens her father that she will marry the first shoe-boy she meets, and the rest of the flame-coloured taffefy nymphs, who do so much honour to the fair sex.
(p. 118-21)",,18825,"","""It is the privilege of the good, to establish their empire in the hearts of their dependents; this is the triumph of my dear Mr. Richardson; and then indeed does his excellent heart exult, when he sees every one the happier and better for their connexion with him!""",Empire,2011-06-27 18:27:07 UTC,""
6984,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:32:50 UTC,"Well! now I have done with quarrelling, I will go back to the letter. Whereabouts was I? Oh dear ! what shall I do now! I have opened your letter just at the place where that sad paragraph is, that made me cry out so before! I intended never to have read it again, that I might have forgot it. Why had not I the heart to take a penknife and scratch it out, that it might not thus have obtruded itself on my sight? Why!--Because it came from my dear Mr. Richardson, and, however severe it may appear, there is kindness under every word, and sweet instruction mixed with the bitterness of reproof. Live then upon the paper, and upon my memory, every stroke of his pen! For there is no gall in his ink, but only precious balm, and honied drops of salutary counsel. And now let me try to extract this honey, and not be afraid of the stings of self-condemnation. ""But I am really sorry, my dear Miss Mulso, to find you, on more occasions than one, depreciate the understandings of parents; rein in, I beseech you, my dear child, on these important subjects, your charming imagination."" See here! He calls me my dear child, and is sorry for my faults! Is not this kindness? But did I depreciate the understandings of parents, AS parents? Did I mean to cast contempt on the paternal character? My heart boldly answers, NO. But did I seem to mean it? Mr. Richardson says yes. Well then, scratch out of my letter that vile passage, that seemed to mean so vile a design; tell it not in Gath nor proclaim it in the streets of Askalon, that your child ever wrote it, and believe not that she ever meant it. Whilst I, on the other hand, preserve, and often read over this wholesome admonition, ""Rein in, on these important subjects, your imagination."" Your wild silly imagination, you foolish girl you! How is poor Mr. Richardson discomfited! He who has been a constant advocate for the reading and writing ladies, how is he, by my sad example, discomfited ! But here indeed, dear Sir, you have mixed a sneer with your rebukes that should not have been there, however audacious and peremptory I may have been, whatever sagacity I may have seemed to assume, and however contrary my doctrines may have been to truth and reason--however wanting I may have been in the characteristic graces of my sex, in meekness, patience, resignation, submission; let not, I beseech you, the reading and writing ladies suffer for this; I never was a writing lady till you made me one; I am far from being a reading lady; I have read very little; and half of what I have read has been romances and novels and trumpery that did me more harm than good. Let it not then, on my account, be made a doubt whether ""our forefathers were not in the right when they bestowed so little attention on the education of girls."" Forbid it science! Forbid it justice! that the sex, and the cause of learning, should thus suffer for the faults of one ignorant girl! For if I have erred, you should impute it rather to my ignorance than knowledge. Miss Carter says, (and she is herself a proof of the truth of her assertion) 'tis certain that every accession of understanding, whether in man or woman, in its natural tendency, leads to the improvement of the heart. […]
(pp. 130-3)",,18826,INTEREST. USE IN ENTRY,"""Live then upon the paper, and upon my memory, every stroke of his pen! For there is no gall in his ink, but only precious balm, and honied drops of salutary counsel.""",Writing,2013-11-17 17:40:01 UTC,""
6984,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:33:33 UTC,"Well! now I have done with quarrelling, I will go back to the letter. Whereabouts was I? Oh dear ! what shall I do now! I have opened your letter just at the place where that sad paragraph is, that made me cry out so before! I intended never to have read it again, that I might have forgot it. Why had not I the heart to take a penknife and scratch it out, that it might not thus have obtruded itself on my sight? Why!--Because it came from my dear Mr. Richardson, and, however severe it may appear, there is kindness under every word, and sweet instruction mixed with the bitterness of reproof. Live then upon the paper, and upon my memory, every stroke of his pen! For there is no gall in his ink, but only precious balm, and honied drops of salutary counsel. And now let me try to extract this honey, and not be afraid of the stings of self-condemnation. ""But I am really sorry, my dear Miss Mulso, to find you, on more occasions than one, depreciate the understandings of parents; rein in, I beseech you, my dear child, on these important subjects, your charming imagination."" See here! He calls me my dear child, and is sorry for my faults! Is not this kindness? But did I depreciate the understandings of parents, AS parents? Did I mean to cast contempt on the paternal character? My heart boldly answers, NO. But did I seem to mean it? Mr. Richardson says yes. Well then, scratch out of my letter that vile passage, that seemed to mean so vile a design; tell it not in Gath nor proclaim it in the streets of Askalon, that your child ever wrote it, and believe not that she ever meant it. Whilst I, on the other hand, preserve, and often read over this wholesome admonition, ""Rein in, on these important subjects, your imagination."" Your wild silly imagination, you foolish girl you! How is poor Mr. Richardson discomfited! He who has been a constant advocate for the reading and writing ladies, how is he, by my sad example, discomfited ! But here indeed, dear Sir, you have mixed a sneer with your rebukes that should not have been there, however audacious and peremptory I may have been, whatever sagacity I may have seemed to assume, and however contrary my doctrines may have been to truth and reason--however wanting I may have been in the characteristic graces of my sex, in meekness, patience, resignation, submission; let not, I beseech you, the reading and writing ladies suffer for this; I never was a writing lady till you made me one; I am far from being a reading lady; I have read very little; and half of what I have read has been romances and novels and trumpery that did me more harm than good. Let it not then, on my account, be made a doubt whether ""our forefathers were not in the right when they bestowed so little attention on the education of girls."" Forbid it science! Forbid it justice! that the sex, and the cause of learning, should thus suffer for the faults of one ignorant girl! For if I have erred, you should impute it rather to my ignorance than knowledge. Miss Carter says, (and she is herself a proof of the truth of her assertion) 'tis certain that every accession of understanding, whether in man or woman, in its natural tendency, leads to the improvement of the heart. [...]
(pp. 130-3)",,18827,"","""Rein in, on these important subjects, your imagination.""",Beasts,2011-06-27 18:37:44 UTC,""
6984,"",Reading,2011-06-27 18:40:08 UTC,"[...] Therefore I must insist, that every woman, whether of equal prudence with Clarissa, or not, whether the man proposed be quite as odious as Solmes, or not, whether she have an absolute aversion to him, or only be indifferent, or rather averse to him, whether she be in love with some other, or not, and whether that other be a proper match for her, or not, every woman, I say, has a right to a negative; and is guilty of no sinful disobedience in refusing to marry the man her parents propose, provided she do not marry herself without their consent; since the giving away her person, her fortune, and even her affections, is an action in which her free will is essentially concerned; and, as a rational creature, she must have a right to refuse to shackle her conscience with a vow, if she does not chuse it. Now I am not quite clear, from the general tenor of your argument, whether you are willing to allow this in all cases; although in the particular case of Clarissa you have so plainly designed her steady refusal as exemplary. Tell me then, dear Sir, are we quite agreed in this point? Remembering always that I allow the parents (if tolerably good parents) a negative, will you allow one in all cases to the child?
(pp. 137-8)",,18828,"","""Therefore I must insist, that every woman, whether of equal prudence with Clarissa, or not, whether the man proposed be quite as odious as Solmes, or not, whether she have an absolute aversion to him, or only be indifferent, or rather averse to him, whether she be in love with some other, or not, and whether that other be a proper match for her, or not, every woman, I say, has a right to a negative; and is guilty of no sinful disobedience in refusing to marry the man her parents propose, provided she do not marry herself without their consent; since the giving away her person, her fortune, and even her affections, is an action in which her free will is essentially concerned; and, as a rational creature, she must have a right to refuse to shackle her conscience with a vow, if she does not chuse it.""",Fetters,2011-06-27 18:40:08 UTC,""