'People, put by their education into a narrow track of thinking, are as much afraid of getting out of it as children of quitting their leading-strings when first they learn to go. They are taught a raging fondness for a parcel of names that are never explained to them; and an implacable fierceness against another set of names that are never explained to them; so they jog on in the heavy steps of their forefathers, or in the wretched and narrow paths of poor-spirited and ignorant pedagogues. They believe they are certainly in the right, and therefore never take the pains to find out that they are certainly in the wrong.
'From this cause it comes to pass that many English gentlemen are as much afraid of reading some English books as were the poor blind Papists of reading books prohibited by their priests; which were, indeed, all books that had either religion or sense in them.
'How nicely are those men taught who are taught prejudice! A tincture of bigotry appears in all the actions of a bigot. He will neither, with his good liking, eat or drink, or sleep or travel with you, till he has received full conviction that you wash your hands and pare your nails just as he does.
'Here is a squire come down from London who is very rich, and has bought a world of land in our county of Wilts. The first thing he did when he came among us was to declare that he would have no dealings nor conversation with any Whig whatsoever; and, to make his word good, having bespoke several beds and other furniture to a considerable value of an upholsterer here, he returned the whole upon the poor man's hands because his wife had a brother who was a Presbyterian parson.
'But this worthy and ingenious squire was very well served by an officer of the army at a horse race here. They were drinking, among other company, the King's health, at the door of a public-house, on horseback; the officer, when it came to his turn, drank it to this Doughty Highflyer, who happened to be next to him, upon which he made some difficulty at pledging it, suggesting that public healths should not be proposed in mixed company. "You would say," says the officer, "if you durst, that a High Churchman would not have his Majesty's health proposed to him at all." Upon this he swore he was a High Churchman, and was not ashamed of it. "So I guessed," said the officer, "by your disloyalty." "But, Sir," says the officer, "even disloyalty to your prince need not make you show your ill-breeding in company." The squire chafed most violently at this, and urged, as a proof of his good breeding, that he had been bred at Oxford. "So I guessed," says the officer, "by your ignorance." This nettled the squire to the height, and fired his little soul at the expense of the outer case, for he proceeded to give ill words, and to call ill names; but the officer quickly taught him, by the nose, to hold his tongue, and ask pardon. Thus it always fares with the High Church in fighting as it does in disputing: she is constantly beaten; and the courage and understanding of her passive sons tally with each other.'
Of Women.
'Some of my fair correspondents have lately reproached me with negligence and indifference to their sex; but if they could know how vain I am of so obliging a reprimand, they would be sensible, too, how little I deserved it. I am not so entirely a statue as to be insensible of the power of beauty, nor so absolutely a woman's creature as to be blind to their little weaknesses, their pretty follies and impertinences.
'It will be necessary to inform my readers that my landlady is an eminent milliner, and a considerable dealer in Flanders lace. She is one of those whom we call notable women; she has run through the rough and smooth of life, has a very good plain sense of things, and knows the world, as far as she is concerned in it, very well. I am very much entertained by her company; her discourse is sure to be seasoned with scandal, ancient and modern, which, though the morals and gravity of my character do not allow me to join in, yet, such is the infirmity of human nature, I find it impossible to be heartily displeased with it as I ought.