the Roman virtue; but our men
of the world should read our new books, which teach them to have no
virtue at all. No book is fit for a gentleman's reading which is not
void of facts and of doctrines, that he may not grow a pedant in his
morals or conversation. I look upon history (I mean real history) to be
one of the worst kinds of study. Whatever has happened may happen again,
and a well-bred man may unwarily mention a parallel instance he had met
with in history and be betrayed into the awkwardness of introducing into
his discourse a Greek, a Roman, or even a Gothic name; but when a
gentleman has spent his time in reading adventures that never occurred,
exploits that never were achieved, and events that not only never did,
but never can happen, it is impossible that in life or in discourse he
should ever apply them. A secret history, in which there is no secret
and no history, cannot tempt indiscretion to blab or vanity to quote; and
by this means modern conversation flows gentle and easy, unencumbered
with matter and unburdened of instruction. As the present studies throw
no weight or gravity into discourse and manners, the women are not afraid
to read our books, which not only dispose to gallantry and coquetry, but
give rules for them. Caesar's "Commentaries," and the "Account of
Xenophon's Expedition," are not more studied by military commanders than
our novels are by the fair--to a different purpose, indeed; for their
military maxims teach to conquer, ours to yield. Those inflame the vain
and idle love of glory: these inculcate a noble contempt of reputation.
The women have greater obligations to our writers than the men. By the
commerce of the world men might learn much of what they get from books;
but the poor women, who in their early youth are confined and restrained,
if it were not for the friendly assistance of books, would remain long in
an insipid purity of mind, with a discouraging reserve of behaviour.

_Plutarch_.--As to your men who have quitted the study of virtue for the
study of vice, useful truth for absurd fancy, and real history for
monstrous fiction, I have neither regard nor compassion for them; but I
am concerned for the women who are betrayed into these dangerous studies;
and I wish for their sakes I had expatiated more on the character of
Lucretia and some other heroines.

_Bookseller_.--I tell you, our women do not read in order to live or to
die like Lucretia. If you would inform