On the other hand, the lofty bards who ſtrung their bolder harps to higher meaſures, and ſung the Wrath of Peleus' Son, and Man's firſt Diſobedience, have never been cenſured for want of ſweetneſs and refinement. The ſublime, the nervous, and the maſculine, characteriſe their compoſitions; as the beautiful, the ſoft, and the delicate, mark thoſe of the others. Grandeur, dignity, and force, diſtinguiſh the one ſpecies; eaſe, ſimplicity, and purity, the other. Both ſhine from their native, diſtinct, unborrowed merits, not from thoſe which are foreign, adventitious, and unnatural. Yet thoſe excellencies, which make up the eſſential and conſtituent parts of poetry, they have in common.
Women have generally quicker perceptions; men have juſter ſentiments.—Women conſider how things may be prettily ſaid; men how they may be properly ſaid.—In women, (young ones at leaſt) ſpeaking accompanies, and ſometimes precedes reflection; in men, reflection is the antecedent.—Women ſpeak to ſhine or to pleaſe; men, to convince or confute.—Women admire what is brilliant; men what is ſolid.—Women prefer an extemporaneous ſally of wit, or a ſparkling effuſion of fancy, before the moſt accurate reaſoning, or the moſt laborious inveſtigation of facts. In literary compoſition, women are pleaſed with point, turn, and antitheſis; men with obſervation, and a juſt deduction of effects from their cauſes.—Women are fond of incident, men of argument.—Women admire paſſionately, men approve cautiouſly.—One ſex will think it betrays a want of feeling to be moderate in their applauſe, the other will be afraid of expoſing a want of judgment by being in raptures with any thing.—Men refuſe to give way to the emotions they actually feel, while women ſometimes affect to be tranſported beyond what the occaſion will juſtify.
As a farther confirmation of what has been advanced on the different bent of the underſtanding in the ſexes, it may be obſerved, that we have heard of many female wits, but never of one female logician—of many admirable writers of memoirs, but never of one chronologer.—In the boundleſs and aërial regions of romance, and in that faſhionable ſpecies of compoſition which ſucceeded it, and which carries a nearer approximation to the manners of the world, the women cannot be excelled: this imaginary ſoil they have a peculiar talent for cultivating, becauſe here,
Invention labours more, and judgment leſs.
The merit of this kind of writing conſiſts in the vraiſemblance to real life as to the events themſelves, with a certain elevation in the narrative, which places them, if not above what is natural, yet above what is common. It farther conſiſts in the art of intereſting the tender feelings by a pathetic repreſentation of thoſe minute, endearing, domeſtic circumſtances, which take captive the ſoul before it has time to ſhield itſelf with the armour of reflection. To amuſe, rather than to inſtruct, or to inſtruct indirectly by ſhort inferences, drawn from a long concatenation of circumſtances, is at once the buſineſs of this ſort of compoſition, and one of the characteriſtics of female genius[1].
In ſhort, it appears that the mind in each ſex has ſome natural kind of bias, which conſtitutes a diſtinction of character, and that the happineſs of both depends, in a great meaſure, on the preſervation and obſervance of this diſtinction. For where would be the ſuperior pleaſure and ſatiſfaction reſulting from mixed converſation, if this difference were aboliſhed? If the qualities of both were invariably and exactly the ſame, no benefit or entertainment would ariſe from the tedious and inſipid uniformity of ſuch an intercourſe; whereas conſiderable advantages are reaped from a ſelect ſociety of both ſexes. The rough angles and aſperities of male manners are imperceptibly filed, and gradually worn ſmooth, by the poliſhing of female converſation, and the refining of female taſte; while the ideas of women acquire ſtrength and ſolidity, by their aſſociating with ſenſible, intelligent, and judicious men.
On the whole, (even if fame be the object of purſuit) is it not better to ſucceed as women, than to fail as men? To ſhine, by walking honourably in the road which nature, cuſtom, and education ſeem to have marked out, rather than to counteract them all, by moving awkwardly in a path diametrically oppoſite? To be good originals, rather than bad imitators? In a word, to be excellent women, rather than indifferent men?
[1] The author does not apprehend it makes againſt her general poſition, that this nation can boaſt a female critic, poet, hiſtorian, linguiſt, philoſopher, and moraliſt, equal to moſt of the other ſex. To theſe particular inſtances others might be adduced; but it is preſumed, that they only ſtand as exceptions againſt the rule, without tending to invalidate the rule itſelf.