ich
through life regulated the actions and behaviour of my friend towards
all of womankind indiscriminately, owed its happy origin to this
seasonable lesson from the lips of his lamented mistress.

I wish the whole female world would entertain the same notion of these
things that Miss Winstanley showed. Then we should see something
of the spirit of consistent gallantry; and no longer witness the
anomaly of the same man--a pattern of true politeness to a wife--of
cold contempt, or rudeness, to a sister--the idolater of his female
mistress--the disparager and despiser of his no less female aunt, or
unfortunate--still female--maiden cousin. Just so much respect as a
woman derogates from her own sex, in whatever condition placed--her
handmaid, or dependent--she deserves to have diminished from herself
on that score; and probably will feel the diminution, when youth, and
beauty, and advantages, not inseparable from sex, shall lose of their
attraction. What a woman should demand of a man in courtship, or after
it, is first--respect for her as she is a woman;--and next to that--to
be respected by him above all other women. But let her stand upon
her female character as upon a foundation; and let the attentions,
incident to individual preference, be so many pretty additaments and
ornaments--as many, and as fanciful, as you please--to that main
structure. Let her first lesson be--with sweet Susan Winstanley--to
_reverence her sex_.

THE OLD BENCHERS OF THE INNER TEMPLE

I was born, and passed the first seven years of my life, in the
Temple. Its church, its halls, its gardens, its fountain, its river,
I had almost said--for in those young years, what was this king of
rivers to me but a stream that watered our pleasant places?--these are
of my oldest recollections. I repeat, to this day, no verses to myself
more frequently, or with kindlier emotion, than those of Spenser,
where he speaks of this spot.

There when they came, whereas those bricky towers,
The which on Themmes brode aged back doth ride,
Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers,
There whylome wont the Templer knights to bide;
Till they decayd through pride.

Indeed, it is the most elegant spot in the metropolis. What a
transition for a countryman visiting London for the first time--the
passing from the crowded Strand or Fleet-street, by unexpected
avenues, into its magnificent ample squares, its classic green
recesses! What a cheerful,