This argument may be carried further than philosophers are aware
of, for if nature destined woman, in particular, for the discharge
of domestic duties, she made her susceptible of the attached
affections in a great degree. Now women are notoriously fond of
pleasure; and naturally must be so, according to my definition,
because they cannot enter into the minutiae of domestic taste;
lacking judgment the foundation of all taste. For the
understanding, in spite of sensual cavillers, reserves to itself
the privilege of conveying pure joy to the heart.
With what a languid yawn have I seen an admirable poem thrown down,
that a man of true taste returns to, again and again with rapture;
and, whilst melody has almost suspended respiration, a lady has
asked me where I bought my gown. I have seen also an eye glanced
coldly over a most exquisite picture, rest, sparkling with
pleasure, on a caricature rudely sketched; and whilst some terrific
feature in nature has spread a sublime stillness through my soul, I
have been desired to observe the pretty tricks of a lap-dog, that
my perverse fate forced me to travel with. Is it surprising, that
such a tasteless being should rather caress this dog than her
children? Or, that she should prefer the rant of flattery to the
simple accents of sincerity?
To illustrate this remark I must be allowed to observe, that men of
the first genius, and most cultivated minds, have appeared to have
the highest relish for the simple beauties of nature; and they must
have forcibly felt, what they have so well described, the charm,
which natural affections, and unsophisticated feelings spread round
the human character.
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