Wretched Un-idea'd Girls.

Conjecture As To Things Useful, Is Good; But Conjecture As To What It Would Be Useless To Know, Is Very Idle.

Wretched Un-idea'd Girls.

We Are Not Here To Sell A Parcel Of Boilers And Vats, But The Potentiality Of Growing Rich Beyond The Dreams Of Avarice.

Solitude Is The Surest Nurse Of All Prurient Passions, And A Girl In The Hurry Of Preparation, Or Tumult Of Gaiety, Has Neither Inclination Nor Leisure To Let Tender Expressions Soften Or Sink Into Her Heart. The Ball, The Show, Are Not The Dangerous Places: No, 'tis The Private Friend, The Kind Consoler, The Companion Of The Easy Vacant Hour, Whose Compliance With Her Opinions Can Flatter Her Vanity, And Whose Conversation Can Sooth, Without Ever Stretching Her Mind, That Is The Lover To Be Feared: He Who Buzzes In Her Ear At Court, Or At The Opera, Must Be Contented To Buzz In Vain.

Almost All Absurdity Of Conduct Arises From The Imitation Of Those Who We Cannot Resemble.