Anthony Ashley Cooper, the third Earl of Shaftesbury, was grandson of the earl against whom Dryden wrote "Absalom and Achitophel." He was born in 1671-that is to say, he was only a few months older than Steele and Addison, and he died at the age of forty-four, in February, 1713, during the three months' interval between the close of The Spectator and the beginning of The Guardian. He had been educated with great care, under the direct influence of John Locke, visited the chief courts of Europe, and in 1693 he became member for Poole. In Parliament he was a libera! supporter of the principles that triumphed at the Revolution, but delicacy of health and disinclination for the feuds of party caused him to decline office under William III. In 1698 he went to Holland, where he was much in the society of Pierre Bayle, Le Clerc, and others who claimed liberty of thought. Between 1708 and 1711 Shaftesbury published the essays which were collected in three volumes as "Characteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, and Times." The first, published in 1708, was his "Letter concerning Enthusiasm;" the second, "Sensus Communis; or, an Essay upon the Freedom of Wit and Humour," appeared in 1709. Other essays published in that year were "The Moralists, a Rhapsody," and "An Enquiry concerning Virtue," which had been printed as early as 1699. In 1710 appeared "Soliloquy; or, Advice to an Author," which was placed third in the collection of the "Characteristics." Shaftesbury's essays represent one form of the tendency to speculate on God and man that grew with the advance of the eighteenth century. There was a reaction against dead formalisms in Church and State, strongest in France, where men had suffered most from the corruptions of society. Pierre Bayle, who died in 1736, had suggested bold doubts in his "Dictionnaire Historique et Critique," which was translated into English in 1710, the year in which Leibnitz at Paris endeavoured to reply to Bayle's doubts, to maintain God's justice, and reconcile the sense of it with sense of evil in the world, in "Essais de Theodicée." Lord Shaftesbury was then dealing with such questions in his essays as a virtuoso and a man of taste, and his writings were considered to be models of sense and refinement. He maintained the existence of a beneficent God in all creation, but put aside dogmatic theology as superstition; he condemned enthusiasm, argued that it was best met with kindly ridicule, that good humour and good taste are essential to the religious life, that all nature breathes a divine harmony which leads to good, and that, as Pope wrote afterwards, there is in "all discord harmony not understood." Shaftesbury was not without real energy of thought; his essays were translated into foreign languages, and he was regarded as an excellent example of politeness and enlightenment. He was a real person of quality, and not unconscious of the fact, when an author of humble birth and means, would now and then write himself" Person of Quality" upon his title-page to win an audience. Shaftesbury's manner as an essayist will be sufficiently illustrated by the first section of his SOLILOQUY; OR, ADVICE TO AN AUTHOR. I HAVE often thought how ill-natur'd a Maxim it was, which, on many occasions, I have heard from People of good understanding; "That, as to what related to private Conduct, "No-one was ever the better for ADVICE." But upon farther Examination, I have resolv'd with my-self, that the Marim might be admitted without any violent prejudice to Mankind. For in the manner Advice was generally given, there was no reason, I thought, to wonder it shou'd be so ill receiv'd. Something there was which strangely inverted the Case, and made the Giver to be the only Gainer. For by what I cou'd observe in many Occurrences of our Lives, That which we call'd giving Advice, was properly, taking an occasion to shew our own Wisdom, at another's expence. On the other side, to be instructed, or to receive Advice on the terms usually prescrib'd to us, was little better than tamely to afford another the Occasion of raising himself a Character from our Defects. In reality, however able or willing a Man may be to advise, 'tis no easy matter to make ADVICE a free Gift. For to make a Gift free indeed, there must be nothing in it which takes from Another, to add to Our-self. In all other respects, to give and to dispense, is Generosity, and Good-will: but to bestow Wisdom, is to gain a Mastery which can't so easily be allow'd us. Men willingly learn whatever else is taught 'em. They can bear a Master in Mathematicks, in Musick, or in any other Science; but not in Understanding and Good Sense. age. 'Tis the hardest thing imaginable for an AUTHOR not to appear assuming in this respect. For all Authors at large are, in a manner, profess'd Masters of Understanding to the And for this reason, in early days, Poets were look'd upon as authentick Sages, for dictating Rules of Life, and teaching Manners and good Sense. How they may have lost their Pretension, I can't say. 'Tis their peculiar Happiness and Advantage, not to be oblig'd to lay their Claim openly. And if whilst they profess only to please, they secretly advise, and give Instruction; they may now perhaps, as well as formerly, be esteem'd, with justice, the best and most honourable among Authors. MEAN while: "If dictating and prescribing be of so dan"gerous a nature, in other Authors; what must his Case be, "who dictates to Authors themselves?" To this I answer; That my Pretension is not so much to give Advice, as to consider of the Way and Manner of advising. My Science, if it be any, is no better than that of a LanguageMaster, or a Logician. For I have taken it strongly into my head, that there is a certain Knack or Legerdemain in Argu. ment, by which we may safely proceed to the dangerous part of advising, and make sure of the good fortune to have our Advice accepted, if it be any thing worth. My Proposal is to consider of this Affair, as a Case of SURGERY. 'Tis Practice, we all allow, which makes a Hand. "But who, on this occasion, will be practis'd on? Who will "willingly be the first to try our Hand? and afford us the "requisite Experience?" Here lies the Difficulty. For sup posing we had Hospitals for this sort of Surgery, and there were always in readiness certain meek Patients who wou'd bear any Incisions, and be prob'd or tented at our pleasure; the advantage no doubt wou'd be considerable in this way of Practice. Some Insight must needs be obtain'd. In time a Hand too might be acquir'd; but in all likelihood a very rough-one which wou'd by no means serve the purpose of this latter Surgery. For here, a Tenderness of Hand is principally requisite. No Surgeon will be call'd who has not Feeling and Compassion. And where to find a Subject in which the Operator is likely to preserve the highest Tenderness, and yet act with the greatest Resolution and Boldness, is certainly a matter of no slight Consideration. I AM sensible there is in all considerable Projects, at first appearance, a certain Air of chimerical Fancy and Conceit, which is apt to render the Projectors somewhat liable to ridicule. I wou'd therefore prepare my Reader against this Prejudice; by assuring him, that in the Operation propos'd, there is nothing which can justly excite his Laughter; or if there be, the Laugh perhaps may turn against him, by his own consent, and with his own concurrence: Which is a Specimen of that very Art or Science we are about to illustrate. ACCORDINGLY, if it be objected against the above-mention'd Practice, and Art of Surgery, "That we can no-where find "such a meek Patient, with whom we can in reality make bold, "and for whom nevertheless we are sure to preserve the greatest "Tenderness and Regard :" I assert the contrary; and say, for instance, That we have each of us OUR SELVES to practise on. "Mere Quibble! (you'll say:) For who can thus multiply "himself into two Persons, and be his own Subject? Who can "properly laugh at himself, or find in his heart to be either 66 merry or severe on such an occasion?" Go to the Poets, and they will present you with many Instances. Nothing is more common with them than this sort of SOLILOQUY. A Person of profound Part, or perhaps of ordinary Capacity, happens, on some occasion, to commit a Fault. He is concern'd for it. He comes alone upon the Stage; looks about him, to see if any body be near; then takes himself to task, without sparing himself in the least. You wou'd wonder to hear how close he pushes matters, and how thorowly he carries on the business of Self-dissection. By virtue of this SOLILOQUY he becomes two distinct Persons. He is Pupil and Preceptor. He teaches and he learns. And in good earnest, had I nothing else to plead in behalf of the Morals of our modern Dramatick Poets, I shou'd defend 'em still against their Accusers for the sake of this very Practice, which they have taken care to keep up in its full force. For whether the Practice be natural or no in respect of common Custom and Usage; I take upon me to assert, that it is an honest and laudable Practice; and that if already it be not natural to us, we ought however to make it so, by Study and Application. see. We might peradventure be less noisy and more profitable in Company, if at convenient times we discharg'd some of our articulate Sound, and spoke to ourselves vivâ voce when alone. For Company is an extreme Provocative to Fancy; and, like a hot-bed in Gardening, is apt to make our Imaginations sprout too fast. But by this anticipating Remedy of SOLILOQUY We may effectually provide against the Inconvenience. WE HAVE an account in History of a certain Nation, who seem to have been extremely apprehensive of the Effects of this Frothiness or Ventosity in Speech, and were accordingly resolv'd to provide thorowly against the Evil. They carry'd this Remedy of ours so far, that it was not only their Custom, but their Religion and Law, to speak, laugh, use action, gesticulate, and do all in the same manner when by themselves, as when they were in Company. If you had stol'n upon 'em unawares at any time, when they had been alone, you might have found 'em in high Dispute, arguing with themselves, reproving, counselling, haranguing themselves, and in the most florid manner accosting their own Persons. In all likelihood they had been once a People remarkably fluent in Expression, much pester'd with Orators and Preachers, and mightily subject to that Disease which has since been call'd the Leprosy of Eloquence; till some sage Legislator arose amongst 'em, who when he cou'd not oppose the Torrent of Words, and stop the Flux of Speech, by any immediate Application, found means to give a vent to the loquacious Humour, and broke the force of the Distemper by eluding it. OUR present Manners, I must own, are not so well calculated for this Method of SOLILOQUY, as to suffer it to become a national Practice. 'Tis but a small Portion of this Regimen, which I wou'd willingly borrow, and apply to private use; especially in the case of Authors. I am sensible how fatal it might prove to many honourable Persons, shou'd they acquire such a Habit as this, or offer to practise such an Art, within reach of any mortal Ear. For 'tis well known, we are not many of us like that Roman, who wish'd for Windows to his Breast, that all might be as conspicuous there as in his House, which for that very reason he had built as open as was possible. I wou'd therefore advise our Probationer, upon his first Exercise, to retire into some thick Wood, or rather take the Point of some high Hill; where, besides the Advantage of looking about him for security, he wou'd find the Air perhaps more rarefy'd, and sutable to the Perspiration requir'd, especially in the case of a Poetical Genius. 1 Scriptorum chorus omnis amat nemus, & fugit urbem. 'Tis remarkable in all great Wits, that they have own'd this Practice of ours, and generally describ'd themselves as a People liable to sufficient Ridicule, for their great loquacity by themselves, and their profound Taciturnity in Company. Not only the Poet and Philosopher, but the Orator himself was wont to have recourse to our Method. And the Prince of this latter Tribe may be prov'd to have been a great Frequenter of the Woods and River-banks; where he consum'd abundance of his Breath, suffer'd his Fancy to evaporate, and reduc'd the vehemence both of his Spirit and Voice. If other Authors find nothing which invites 'em to these Recesses, 'tis because their Genius is not of force enough: Or tho it be, their Character, they may imagine, will hardly bear 'em out. For to be surpriz'd in the odd Actions, Gestures, or Tones, which are proper to such Asceticks, I must own wou'd be an ill Adventure for a Man of the world. But with Poets and Philosophers 'tis a known Case: 2 Aut insanit Homo, aut versus facit COMPOSING and Raving must necessarily, we see, bear a resemblance. And for those Composers who deal in Systems, and airy Speculations, they have vulgarly pass'd for a sort of Prose-Poets. Their secret Practice and Habit has been as frequently noted: 3 Murmura cùm secum & rabiosa silentia rodunt. Both these sorts are happily indulg'd in this Method of Evacuation. They are thought to act naturally, and in their 1 Horace, Epist. II., ii. 77. The whole choir of writers loves the grove and shuns the town. 2 Horace, Sat. II., vii. 117. The man's either raving or making verses. 3 Persius, iii. 81. With muttered sounds and crazy silences. proper way, when they assume these odd manners. But of other Authors 'tis expected they shou'd be better bred. They are oblig'd to preserve a more conversible Habit; which is no small misfortune to 'em. For if their Meditation and Resvery be obstructed by the fear of a nonconforming Mein in Conversation, they may happen to be so much the worse Authors for being finer Gentlemen. Their Fervency of Imagination may possibly be as strong as either the Philosopher's or the Poet's. But being deny'd an equal Benefit of Discharge, and with-held from the wholesom manner of Relief in private; 'tis no wonder if they appear with so much Froth and Scum in publick. 'Tis observable, that the writers of MEMOIRS and ESSAYS are chiefly subject to this frothy Distemper. Nor can it be doubted that this is the true Reason why these Gentlemen entertain the World so lavishly with what relates to themselves. For having had no opportunity of privately conversing with themselves, or exercising their own Genius, so as to make Acquaintance with it, or prove its Strength: they immediately fall to work in a wrong place, and exhibit on the Stage of the World that Practice, which they shou'd have kept to themselves; if they design'd that either they, or the World, shou'd be the better for their Moralitys. Who indeed can endure to hear an Empirick talk of his own Constitution, how he governs and manages it, what Diet agrees best with it, and what his Practice is with himself? The Proverb, no doubt, is very just, Physician cure thy-self. Yet methinks one shou'd have but an ill time, to be present at these bodily Operations. Nor is the Reader in truth any better entertain'd, when he is oblig'd to assist at the experimental Discussions of his practising Author, who all the while is in reality doing no better, than taking his physick in publick. For this reason, I hold it very indecent for any one to publish his Meditations, Occasional Reflections, Solitary Thoughts, or other such Exercises as come under the notion of this self-discoursing Practice. And the modestest Title I can conceive for such Works, wou'd be that of a certain Author, who call'd them his Cruditys. "Tis the Unhappiness of those Wits, who conceive suddenly, but without being able to go out their full time, that after many Miscarriages and Abortions, they can bring nothing well-shapen or perfect into the World. They are not however the less fond of their Off-spring, which in a manner they beget in publick. For so publick-spirited they are, that they can never afford themselves the least time to think in private, for their own particular benefit and use. For this reason, tho they are often retir'd, they are never by themselves. The World is ever of the Party. They have their Author-Character in view, and are always considering how this or that Thought wou'd serve to compleat some Set of Contemplations, or furnish out the Common-Place-Book, from whence these treasur'd Riches are to flow in plenty on the necessitous World. BUT if our Candidates for Authorship happen to be of the sanctify'd kind; 'tis not to be imagin'd how much further still their Charity is apt to extend. So exceeding great is their Indulgence and Tenderness for Mankind, that they are unwilling the least Sample of their devout Exercise shou'd be lost. Tho there are already so many Formularys and Rituals appointed for this Species of Soliloquy; they can allow nothing to lie conceal'd, which passes in this religious Commerce and way of Dialogue between them and their Soul. THESE may be term'd a sort of Pseudo-Asceticks, who can have no real Converse either with themselves, or with Heaven; whilst they look thus a-squint upon the World, and carry Titles and Editions along with 'em in their Meditations. And altho the Books of this sort, by a common Idiom, are call'd good Books; the Authors, for certain, are a sorry Race: For religious Cruditys are undoubtedly the worst of any. A Saint-Author of all Men least values Politeness. He scorns to confine that Spirit, in which he writes, to Rules of Criticism and profane Learning. Nor is he inclin'd in any respect to play the Critick on himself, or regulate his Style or Language by the Standard of good Company, and People of the better sort. He is above the Consideration of that which in a narrow sense we call Manners. Nor is he apt to examine any other faults than those which he calls Sins: Tho a Sinner against Good-Breeding, and the Laws of Decency, will no more be esteem'd a good Author, than will a Sinner against Grammar, good Argument, or good Sense. And if Moderation and Temper are not of the Party with a Writer; let his Cause be ever so good, I doubt whether he will be able to recommend it with great advantage to the World. On this account, I wou'd principally recommend our Exercise of Self-Converse to all such Persons as are addicted to write after the manner of holy Advisers; especially if they lie under an indispensible Necessity of being Talkers or Haranguers in the same kind. For to discharge frequently and vehemently in publick, is a great hindrance to the way of private Exercise; which consists chiefly in Controul. But where, instead of Controul, Debate or Argument, the chief Exercise of the Wit consists in uncontroulable Harangues and Reasonings, which must neither be question'd nor contradicted; there is great danger, lest the Party, thro' this Habit, shou'd suffer much by Cruditys, Indigestions, Choler, Bile, and particularly by a certain Tumour or Flatulency, which renders him of all Men the least able to apply the wholesom Regimen of Self-Practice. 'Tis no wonder if such quaint Practitioners grow to an enormous size of Absurdity, whilst they continue in the reverse of that Practice, by which alone we correct the Redundancy of Humours, and chasten the Exuberance of Conceit and Fancy. A REMARKABLE Instance of the want of this sovereign Remedy may be drawn from our common great Talkers, who engross the greatest part of the Conversations of the World, and are the forwardest to speak in publick Assemblys. Many of these have a sprightly Genius, attended with a mighty Heat and Ebullition of Fancy. But 'tis a certain observation in our Science, that they who are great Talkers in Company, have never been any Talkers by themselves, nor us'd to these private Discussions of our home Regimen. For which reason their Froth abounds. Nor can they discharge any thing without some mixture of it. But when they carry their attempts beyond ordinary Discourse, and wou'd rise to the Capacity of Authors, the Case grows worse with 'em. Their Page can carry none of the Advantages of their Person. They can no-way bring into Paper those Airs they give themselves in Discourse. The turns of Voice and Action, with which they help out many a lame Thought and incoherent Sentence, must here be laid aside; and the Speech taken to pieces, compar'd together and examin'd from head to foot. So that unless the Party has been us'd to play the Critick thorowly upon himself, he will hardly be found proof against the Criticisms of others. His thoughts can over appear very correct; unless they have been us'd to sound Correction by themselves, and been well-form'd and disciplin'd before they are brought into the Field. 'Tis the hardest thing in the world to be a good Thinker, without being a strong SelfExaminer, and thorow-pac'd Dialogist, in this solitary way. When the third Earl of Shaftesbury died, aged forty-four, Alexander Pope was a young man of five-and-twenty. Pope was born in 1688, and educated as a Roman Catholic. By that faith-the faith of his parents-he abided to the last, resenting the persecution that it suffered in his time, although indifferent as to its dogmas. In 1709, at the age of twenty-one, Pope had in the sixth part of the "Poetical Miscellanies," published by Jacob Tonson, several of his pieces printed. There was "January and May; or, The Merchant's Tale, from Chaucer, by Mr. Alexander Pope." There was "The Episode of Sarpedon, translated from the Twelfth and Sixteenth Books of Homer's Iliad,' by Mr. Alexander Pope." The same volume opened with "Pastorals, by Mr. Philips," and closed with 'Pastorals, by Mr. Alexander Pope." It also included lines "To the Author of Rosamond," an opera, by Mr. Tickell; and two poems, one by Wycherley in praise of the genius of young Pope. Now the "Pastorals" by Mr. Philips were by Ambrose Philips, who was seventeen years older than Pope, a man of Addison's age, and a most intimate friend of Addison's. Thomas Tickell was a young man who first won Addison's goodwill by praising the worst piece he wrote the opera of "Rosamond"-and who soon became, as Pope afterwards considered, Addison's familiar henchman. The "Pastorals" of Philips in the "Miscellany" were prefaced by a few words in commendation of pastoral poetry, which named Spenser with Virgil, and they were to a certain extent based on appreciation of Spenser's "Shepherd's Calendar," with Colinet, Thenot-names taken by Spenser from Clement Marot Lanquet, and Hobbinol among the shepherds, and Hobbinol in love with Rosalind. Pope's "Pastorals," one for each of the four seasons, were, on the contrary, entirely inspired by the ancients. Damon, Strephon, Daphnis, Alexis, Lycidas, and Thyrsis were the shepherds. If, theoretically, Ambrose Philips was right in seeking escape from the weak French-classical style by following one of our own great poets of a stronger time, there was practically one difficulty in his way-he was not himself a great poet, and he followed Spenser feebly at a distance. If, theoretically, Pope was wrong in following the devices of an age that called itself Augustan, and deserves to keep the name if we now take it to mean that the reign of Queen Anne was distinguished in literature by a great deal of weak cant about Augustus, there was practically one advantage in his case, that he was himself a poet. In 1711 Pope's "Essay on Criticism" appeared, and Addison, in a paper of The Spectator, made its worth known throughout the country. Pope was grateful, and contributed to The Spectator his " Messiah," a piece of right "Augustan" ingenuity, showing how very much Isaiah was like Virgil. Such evidence of the politeness of the prophet must in Queen Anne's day greatly have commended him to the attention of the virtuoso. In the same year, 1712, Pope's age being twenty-four, Pope published in Lintot's Miscellany" a translation of the first book of the "Thebaid" of Statius, and that daintiest of mock heroics, "The Rape of the Lock," in its first form, of which the two Cantos were afterwards (in 1714) expanded to five, with addition of the " chinery" of sylphs and gnomes. ma On the 12th of March, 1713, Richard Steele, who had issued the last number of his Spectator on the 6th of December, 1712, began The Guardian, another series of daily essays. In this, as the political questions of the day became more urgent, he was to be free to speak his mind upon them, and so use his pen as guardian of the liberties obtained by the English Revolution, though he associated the name of the paper, as usual, with a distinct character, Mr. Nestor Ironside, guardian to the Lizard family. In some early numbers of The Guardian appeared a short series of papers upon pastoral poetry. Pope saw in them the hand of Addison's henchman, Thomas Tickell, and was nettled to find that they closed with much praise of the pastorals of Addison's friend, Ambrose Philips, and no mention of his, that had appeared in the same volume, unless by a distant allusion that might be taken for disapprobation of their form. Pope then asked and obtained leave of Steele to add one paper to the series, and No. 40 of The Guardian contained accordingly, from Pope's hand, the following ironical comparison between THE PASTORALS OF POPE AND PHILIPS. VIRG. Ecl. 7. v. 2 and ult. I designed to have troubled the reader with no farther discourses of Pastorals, but being informed that I am taxed of partiality in not mentioning an author, whose eclogues are published in the same volume with Mr. Philips's; I shall employ this paper in observations upon him, written in the free spirit of criticism, and without apprehension of offending the gentleman, whose character it is, that he takes the greatest care of his works before they are published, and has the least concern for them afterwards. I have laid it down as the first rule of pastoral, that its idea should be taken from the manners of the Golden Age, and the moral form'd upon the representation of innocence; 'tis therefore plain that any deviations from that design degrade a poem from being true pastoral. In this view it will appear that Virgil can only have two of his eclogues allowed to be such: His first and ninth must be rejected, because they describe the ravages of armies, and oppressions of the innocent; Corydon's criminal passion for Alexis throws out the second; the calumny and railing in the third are not proper to that state of concord; the eighth represents unlawful ways of procuring love by enchantments, and introduces a shepherd whom an inviting precipice tempts to self-murder. As to the fourth, sixth, and tenth, they are given up by Heinsius, Salmasius, Rapin, and the critics in general. They likewise observe that but cleven of all the Idyllia of Theocritus are to be admitted as pastorals; and even out of that number, the greater part will be excluded for one or other of the reasons above-mentioned. So that when I remark'd in a former paper, that Virgil's eclogues, taken all together, are rather Select Poems than Pastorals; I might have said the same thing, with no less truth, of Theocritus. The reason of this I take to be yet unobserved by the critics, viz., "They never meant them all for pastorals." Which it is plain Philips hath done, and in that particular excelled both Theocritus and Virgil. English reverence for home. The steady genial labour in aid of the establishment of woman as man's equal companion in life, the playful kindliness of satire that discouraged vanities and follies, and the noble believed from their general and undistinguished aspersions that many of these men had any such relations as mothers, wives or sisters; one of them makes a lover say in a tragedy, Thou art woman, a true copy of the first, And you are, sure, the stars that with him fell. Another says, INTRODUCTION TO THE LADIES' LIBRARY. Being by nature more inclined to such enquiries as by general custom my sex is debarr'd from, I could not resist a strong propensity to reading: and having flattered myself that what I read dwelt with improvement upon my mind, I could not but conclude that a due regard being had to different circumstances of life, it is a great injustice to shut books of knowledge from the eyes of women. Musing one day in this tract of thought, I turned over some books of French and English, written by the most polite writers of the age, and began to consider what account they gave of our composure, different from that of the other sex. But indeed, when I dipped into those writings, were it possible to conceive otherwise, I could not have with one quotation more, Intolerable vanity! Your sex Was never in the right: you're always false. OTWAY'S "Orphan." It may be said for these writings, that there is something perhaps in the character of those that speak, which would circumstantiate the thing so as not to make it a reproach upon women as such. But to this it may be easily and justly answer'd, that if the author had right sentiments of woman in general, he might more emphatically aggravate an ill character, by comparison of an ill to an innocent and virtuous one, than by general calumnies without exception. But I leave authors, who are so mean as to desire to please by falling in with corrupt imaginations, rather than affect a just tho' less extensive esteem by labouring to rectifie our affections by reason; of which number are the greater part of those who have succeeded in poetry, either in verse or prose on the stage. When I apply myself to my French reading, I find women are still worse in proportion to the greater warmth of the climate; and according to the descriptions of us in the wits of that nation, tho' they write in cool thought, and in prose, by way of plain opinion, we are made up of affectation, coquettry, falsehood, disguise, treachery, wantonness, |