893 energy, that woman will annals of human kind. On the Female Character. 894 appear in the has succeeded in placing her lovely pupils upon a distinguished eminence in the social While on the one hand we shall discover and public stations. Thus, fitted by her that by female instrumentality the most natural powers, and improved by her useful atrocious deeds have been committed, and acquirements, the female is now qualified the most determined hostility excited; there- for every path of life in which she may be by proving furens quid femina possit;—yet | called to walk. As a companion, she now on the other hand it has more frequently hap- adorns the most valuable society; as a relapened, that, by an uncommon penetration tive, she discharges her duties with affectionand sagacity of thought, she has foreseen im- ate assiduity; and as a Christian, she shines portant mutations, and has at times almost with modest and undimming lustre, as a glanced at unwonted contingencies. By faithful and becoming attendant upon the the exquisite sensibilities of her bosom, she Sun of righteousness. has tamed the rage of stern and undaunted warriors; by the winning softness of her manners, and the endearing amiableness of her mind, she has won over the hardened and misanthropic wretch, or melted the reckless monster into lamblike meekness. we ask the men who lived in by-gone ages, whether, with all their neglect and contempt of female powers, they were not greatly influenced, and greatly benefited by them; should we not find that almost all would be forced to testify, however reluctantly, in the affirmative? Could We, who happily live in an age and nation where the female is exalted to her full degree of prominency in society, and to the full display of her influence, can be at no loss to discover the cause of her moral degradation. It has been frequently declared that we are indebted to Christianity for the proper estimation of the female sex, and that, owing to a want of this system, the nations of antiquity, and those of the present day where woman is still enthralled in ignorance and debased by servitude, underrate and still contemn this amiable part of human kind. It is indeed the heavenly influence of Christianity which has taught man how to estimate the other branch of his race; it has shown him that she possesses a rational soul, and intellectual powers of no mean capacity; that she is calculated to be a constant blessing and advantage to him in all circumstances of his life-to delight him by her enlivening fancy-to advise him by her wise counsel-and to solace him by her sympathizing soul. While it distinctly recognizes the dependence of woman as the "weaker vessel" upon her more powerful companion, and enjoins due submission on her part; it fully establishes her allotted sphere, and affords abundant scope for the sway of her mind. Education, following upon the footsteps of her divine predecessor, has invited the female race to a participation of her inestimable blessings ;-and enriching by her solid information, instructing by her judicious advice, and adorning by her elegant accomplishments, The value and influence of woman can be proved from the most ordinary occurrences of life. Let us merely glance at a party of the other sex in which conversation may be supposed to flag, or a want of inclination to prevent its full tide of interestwhat will be the result, if female company be introduced into the circle? Immediately some congenial topic is excited; declining interest is revived; the feelings are aroused, and, in a short period, the delights of society are found to be "the feast of reason and the flow of soul." Such a case is neither far-fetched nor uncommon: it may be met with in our daily intercourse with each other; in the social circle, or in the more public assembly. Much indeed has this fact been ridiculed, and the effects of female society have been jocularly traced to the inquietude of woman's tongue; often has its loquacity been the subject of the witling's lash, and the satirist's acumen. It cannot be denied that very often a woman may use her tongue with more profuseness than propriety, and sometimes deluge us with a torrent of declamation; yet ought we not to esteem the use of the tongue in woman a blessing rather than a misfortune? And is there not somewhat of ill-nature and ingratitude in repaying her who has been conducive to an evening's entertainment, even though it be with a profusion of talk, with the shafts of ridicule, and the flashes of wit? The paths of literature invite us to inspect the displays of female mind which are therein exhibited. The question need not now be asked; "what can woman do in the literary circle? Her influence there is now placed beyond a doubt; her value estimated as it ought to be. Indeed, to such a degree has female talent been exerted, that instead of "what can woman do?" it may with more propriety be asked-" what ought she to do?"-for certainly there is a question depending upon the great fact; and it is no unnatural interrogatory-"how far ought a woman to carry her literary researches and labours, consistently with the 895 On the Female Character. other duties which more peculiarly and appropriately belong to her? It cannot be disputed that no female is justified in poring over the stores of learning, to the neglect of other more apparent duties, and in intermeddling with those subjects which seem not exactly consistent with correct notions of female character. It has sometimes been objected that men are insensible to the value of a female mind imbued with extensive knowledge, and well versed in literature; but the objection is now, I think, almost exploded, or if it retain any force, only so, in cases such as those to which I have above alluded. In some instances we may have to complain with Old Thrifty in the Spectator, of our female virtuosos departing out of their proper sphere, and "whilst they should have been considering the proper ingredients for a sackposset," bringing forward "a dispute concerning the magnetic virtue of the loadstone, or perhaps the pressure of the atmosphere." (Spectator, No. 242.) Still, notwithstanding all the candour which has been manifested toward female learning, and the favourable impressions made by a lady of talent, it must be acknowledged, that " a blue-stocking beauty is a gentleman's aversion." "That learning belongs not to the female character, and that the female mind is not capable of a degree of improvement equal to that of the other sex, are narrow and unphilosophical prejudices. The past and present times exhibit most honourable instances of female learning and genius." (Knoxs Essays, No. 142.) In the deeper and more exalted departments of classical knowledge, the name of Dacier stands high, while that of Elizabeth Carter cannot be forgotten. Fortunate might the Grecian sage think himself, could he look through the vista of past ages, in having his ethical maxims arrayed in an English garb, by so fair a hand. The genius of Mrs. More has reached too high a pitch of glory to be passed over in silence. Her numerous works testify the extent and importance of her knowledge, and how well qualified are her talents to do justice to any subject which she might undertake. In the region of elegant literature we have a host of fair authoresses who have adorned their country and themselves. Who has not heard of the "moral tales of an Edgeworth; the popular romances of a Radcliffe; and the useful labours of a Smith and a Barbauld? To tell each favourite name would swell a long catalogue of fair ones more appropriate for the counter of a bibliopolist than for the pages of a brief essay. 896 But who that loves the muse can fail to give his meed of praise to the female lyre? Who that has heard the nervous touches which resound from the lyre of Hemans, will venture to accuse the Nine of partiality in the distribution of their favours to the other sex alone? And let us not forget to notice one prominent trait which invariably marks the progress of female genius. All its labours are directed, as is fitting, to the promotion of the sacred cause of virtue, truth, and religion. To quote the language of one of the eminent ladies above referred to:-" Let such women as are disposed to be vain of their comparative petty attain. ments, look up with admiration to those two contemporary shining examples, the venerable Elizabeth Carter, and the blooming Elizabeth Smith. In them let our young ladies contemplate profound and various learning chastened by true Christian humility. In them let them venerate acquirements which would have been distinguished in an university, meekly softened and beautifully shaded by the gentle exertion of every domestic virtue, the unaffected exercise of every feminine employment." (More's Celebs, v. 2, p. 245.) Who will then deny to the female mind the blessings of education, and the acquirements of knowledge? While there should ever be a due regard to providential circumstances of life, and no woman is warranted to neglect a greater duty for a minor one, it must be allowed that the lady of taste and knowledge has a far greater advantage than the lady who is without them; and in every point of view is calculated to confer a greater blessing on her friends and connexions. If a woman be ignorant, she will lose many delights herself, and deprive others of many. "I do not mean (to cite again the language of Mrs. More) that learning is absolutely necessary, but a man of taste who has an ignorant wife, cannot in her company think his own thoughts, nor speak his own language; his thoughts he will suppress, his language he will debase, the one from hopelessness, the other from compassion. He must be continually lowering and dilating his meaning, in order to make himself intelligible. This he will do for the woman he loves, but in doing [so he will not be happy. She who cannot be entertained by his conversation, will not be convinced by his reasoning, and at length he will find out, that it is less trouble to lower his own standard to hers, than to exhaust himself in the vain attempt to raise hers to his own." (Calebs, v. 2, p. 234.) Oxford. J. S. B. 897 DISSERTATION ON COURAGE. On Courage. COURAGE, which supposes peril, may be generally defined as "that virtue or quality of the mind which faces danger without terror, and bears up against opposition without shrinking." Courage is either bodily or mental. Bodily courage relates to corporeal danger: and as the fear thence arising is aptly enough called bodily fear, so its absence may, with equal significance, be termed bodily courage. Mental courage relates to those dangers which threaten a man's character or reputation, such as ridicule, reproach, contempt, and disgrace. Few persons can approach their superiors in wealth, station, or learning, without some degree of timidity: but a man who is content to appear and be thought just what he really is, will not cringe before his superiors. This kind of timidity may therefore generally be traced to a dread of having our defects and inferiority exposed. In a word, the parent of mental cowardice is pride. When I say that courage implies the absence of fear, I do not mean that it is a merely passive or negative quality; for it has both a positive and an active existence. Neither do I mean that it implies the entire absence of fear; for that were unnatural, if it were even possible. Fear is a natural passion, and answers important purposes; it is the province of courage, not to destroy, but to restrain and qualify it. Courage is further distinguishable into animal and moral, natural and educational; these distinctions are created by the causes or principles whence it originates. | 898 courage of soldiers, of lovers, of misers, is often little else but the effervescence of animal excitement: fear is displaced by an absorbing pursuit or a strong passion. Even curiosity is sometimes stronger than fear; for curiosity has often been known to lead men into scenes and situations highly unpleasant and hazardous. Nay, even fear often neutralizes itself; a man will boldly face one danger, for fear of a greater. But though animal courage is often reckless and daring, it is generally blind and fitful. When it is based on principle, and balanced by prudence, it is highly useful; but in every other case it is mischievous. Moral courage is originated and sustained by conviction, or a sense of duty to our fellow-creatures, or from zeal in the support of truth and justice; nay, even the courage which springs from anxiety for our own real welfare is entitled to the same honourable distinction. But the noblest, strongest, and most proper species of moral courage is that which piety inspires, or which arises from the convictions and impressions of religion. Religious courage is the strongest, and of the most invincible character: its materials are too firm to be shattered by any violent concussion, and too durable to be worn away by any continuation of opposition. Ambition, emulation, or affection may prompt to deeds of astonishing valour and daring, but these affections are often as inconstant as they are reckless. Piety is the only unfailing support of courage; piety alone can sustain the soul under every variety of trials. These remarks might be substantiated by thousands of examples; I Animal courage is produced by the effer-will, however, only state, that there have vescence of animal passions; it is the offspring of excitement. When one particular passion is strongly excited, it is always observed to displace or diminish the influence of others. A man who is strongly under the influence of love, anger, avarice, or ambition, will often exhibit great boldness; he will brave dangers, and encounter difficulties, which in his sober moments he would tremble to contemplate. Passion communicates an impulse and infuses a warmth which counteract the chilling stupifying influence of fear. It is animal courage that hardens the pugilist against the blows and bruises inflicted by his antagonist. It is this same animal-perhaps I ought to call it devilish-courage that excites the duelist to offer or accept a challenge, and then, for the sake of punctuality and good breeding, to expose his body to the pistol-shot of a murderer, as well as to make an effort to commit murder himself. The 142.-VOL. XII. been females, young in years, and possessing a full share of the timidity common to the sex-females distinguished in rank, and with those nice sensibilities, and that delicate habit of body, which are the usual attendants on elevated station-females who have been disciplined by no hardships and exposed to no dangers-who have embraced Christianity in defiance of the threats of parents, the frowns of brothers and sisters, the scoffs of companions, and the cold contempt of many whom they once highly esteemed, and who, rather than renounce it, have suffered themselves to be torn from their families, dragged before merciless judges, immured in dungeons, racked, tortured, and put to an ignominious, lingering, and excruciating death; and in all this scene of suffering and ignominy, they have evinced unshaken firmness, they have betrayed no symptoms of shame or timidity, and this courage has not been exemplified 3 L 899 On Courage. ence, or a few times, but in thousands of instances. 900 vidual who exposes his life without any preparation to meet his Judge, is not an hero, but a madman. But the man who is born of God, and renewed in the spirit of his mind, and justified through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, has nothing to fear; he is guided by infallible wisdom, protected by omnipotent power, and befriended by unbounded and unfailing good ness. Now, this is moral courage of the highest order, and of the purest kind; it has nothing to do with the passions; it is neither the result of nature nor habit, but springs from religious impressions, or faith in the announcements of scripture, and the realities of eternity. Those persons had a lively conviction of the infinite worth of the soul, and of their accountableness to God; a firm belief in the divinity and mediatorial character of Christ, together with a happy experience of the power of his grace in changing their hearts and lives; and thus they endured as seeing him that is invisible." And with such principles, deeply rooted, we need not wonder at their heroic deeds. Religious views and feelings, when permitted to have their full influence on the mind, possess an amazing force, and have an infinite superiority to every other. Faith in God elevates the soul above the atmo-"nothing can offend," which "is not easily sphere of care, disappointment, and distrac tion. "His hand the good man fastens on the skies, And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl." Religious courage I call the most proper and characteristic; for it is perfectly distinct from every other kind, and perfectly independent of any other cause for its existence. It demands not any peculiarity of physical temperament, nor any process of discipline, but wherever the "perfect love" of God is experienced, then all "fear is cast out ;" for "the spirit of power" is inseparable from "the spirit of love and of a sound mind." Fear, "the strong man armed, is bound and cast out by one stronger than he," namely, "faith working by love." Piety not only furnishes an antidote to bodily fear, by its confidence in the arm of Omnipotent Goodness, and its cheering hope of heaven, but the dispositions it inspires furnish the most effectual antidote to intellectual fear. For instance, to lose temper in debate, is a misery, and an humiliation which every person dreads, and the dread of this induces some people often to acquiesce or remain silent, when they ought to manifest a decided opposition; but the Christian, possessing that love which provoked," which "beareth all things," is free from these apprehensions. Again, the mortification of having our ignorance or inferiority exposed, and made the subject of ridicule and reprehension, renders it painful for some people to come in contact with their superiors, or to discharge any public duty; but the humility which every true christian possesses, provides a complete antidote to this kind of fear. A pious man does not even desire to have credit for more than his real value, and the applause of mortals he has learned to regard with indifference. Piety also eradicates sloth, and the excessive love of self-indulgence, which are kindred vices to cowardice; it imparts vigour, activity, and self-control, which are the very elements of courage. Other sorts of courage are often little else but the wildness of ambition, the madness Courage is likewise distinguishable into of rage, the infatuation of love, the stupidity natural and educational. But before I of ignorance, the insensibility of habit, or proceed further, I must observe, that these the recklessness of thoughtless indifference; several distinctions of the virtue under con but of religious courage, rational conviction sideration, are seldom, if ever, seen to exist is the sinew of its strength, and divine love in a purely separate state; that the courage and immortal hopes the life-blood of its of no man is wholly animal, or purely animation. It is characterized by pru- moral, entirely natural, or completely the dence. It does not rush into danger without result of education and habit. Courage is necessity;-to do this is temerity. It is generally the result of these several princimodest. It does not boast of its prowess, ples in various degrees of combination: in or affect to regard danger with contemp- some cases, they may be nearly in a state of tuous defiance; for that, besides being equilibrium; in many there is a prepon supremely ridiculous, is generally an indi- derance, and in some a striking preponder cation of latent cowardice. It does not ance, of one of these principles or causes. qualify itself to meet danger, by shutting Accordingly, some people appear to be its eyes to its extent and consequences; for naturally bold; that is, their boldness that is desperation, worthy only of despair; appears to be merely owing to some pecuyet it is to be feared, that the courage of liarity in their physical constitution. Permany of your belligerent heroes may be re-haps this peculiarity may be in the mind solved into this blind stupidity. An indi- itself; for, that human souls are cast in ferent moulds, and are possessed of sceptibilities and powers various in kind d degree, is a thing by no means unreanable to be believed. Much, however, what is called natural courage is to be tributed to firmness of nerve, and strength passion, which are properties of the body ther than the mind, or perhaps of both ited. But courage is sometimes the offspring education and habit; always perhaps in me measure, and often almost wholly so. hus many a hardy sailor and veteran waror, whose adamantine hearts are almost vulnerable to fear, were, in their' outset, ut just able to support the sense of danger hich preyed upon their spirits. Mental ourage, too, is often the result of education. Public characters who have met with much pposition, and who have themselves often een the opponents of others; who have requently had occasion to assail the princiles and measures of others, while their own have frequently been the objects of ssault, are generally found to have acquired in inflexibility of spirit which defies opposition, and can scarcely feel the stings of reproach. norance. To account for the influence of experience in exciting courage, we may observe, that ignorance generally magnifies danger: the misty medium through which it looks represents what is great, prodigious; and what is sublime, terrible; and thus it generates fear, and the optics of fear have the same kind of microscopic quality as those of igBut experience does not always strengthen courage by shewing the real danger to be less than the apparent; because sometimes danger is concealed, rather than magnified, by ignorance. We can therefore often account for this mental phenomenon in no other way than by saying-what in fact, is only a verbal variation of what has already been said, namely that long exposure to danger always blunts the sense of danger, and that habit will reconcile a man to the most unpleasant and painful condition. We may observe, in further proof of this power of habit, that men are generally seen to be most courageous with regard to those dangers with which they are most familiar. Some have far more bodily courage than mental: this one might suppose to be the case with duelists. Admiral Blake had doubtless much personal bravery, and yet it is said, that he was always timid in the presence of females. As a contrast to him, we might find thousands who experience no embarrassment in their intercourse with women, who would almost die with bodily fear, if their persons were exposed to the 902 artillery of an hostile army. It has been observed of the late Napoleon Buonaparte, that he betrayed a timidity and a sense of danger in certain civil tumults in which he was concerned, which was quite inconsistent with his military boldness. We shall see persons comparatively uneducated, address large assemblies extempore, without betraying any symptoms of fear, while many a learned divine, who has been accustomed to read sermons, would tremble at the bare idea of standing before an audience without his notes. Many public speakers, who are manful enough on ordinary occasions, if called to address a strange assembly, one of a different order of intellect and opinions to that before which they had been accustomed to appear, would feel the equilibrium of their minds greatly disturbed. Even the circumstance of being in a strange place or situation will often produce a disagreeable effect on the mind of a public speaker. Boldness in public speaking is usually termed confidence; and when this confidence is the result of habit or exercise, it is a very different thing from courage. Courage, we have affirmed, always supposes danger: but the confidence of a practised speaker is a persuasion that his abilities are equal to the task assigned him; hence it is rather the easy self-possession of perfect safety, than a magnanimous defiance of opposition and peril. It requires less courage in the hoary statesman to discourse on a difficult subject before the collected wisdom of the empire, than for the stripling to try his doubtful powers before half-a-dozen children. Confidence generally grows with the growth of the intellect, and the improvement of the talents: but this is not always the case; for sometimes it runs before, and sometimes it lags behind. It is not uncommon for men of extraordinary abilities to be very diffident, and still less uncommon for men of diminutive talents to be very confident, if not impudent. Reasons might be assigned for the former case; the reason of the latter is obvious. People of a weak judgment judge erroneously of their own powers, and self-love always influences them to mistake on their own side. Rainton. W. ROBINSON. ON READING: NO. X. (Continued from Col. 817.) SCIENCE is opposed to irregularity in writing, as well as in thinking, upon any of the subjects on which a writer employs his talents and his time; and, no doubt, scien |