but this, and I will immediately prove myself a philosopher, by shewing you how differently we think, in regard to this same treasure, called curiosity, which I am not permitted to have any share of.
AND first, I absolutely deny, that it ever was, or can be, productive of good. Au contraire, I have scripture on my side, to prove that it was the original cause of every physical, and moral ill, that has happened in this world, for I know not how many thousand years. You say,
"it is inherent to our natures."
Fie, Fanny! Could the Author of good then have punished dame Eve, and all her descendants, merely for following the bent of that nature, he had himself endued her with?—Impossible!

I SAY, it was the devil, who first introduced it into paradise, and infected poor Eve; for it certainly is contagious, and never to be eradicated. From her then it has descended to all her offspring, not as an inheritance though, but rather as an uncancellable mortgage upon their natural patrimony.
YOU say,
"it is the source of knowledge."
There again, my dear, you are unluckily mistaken.—Pride is, undoubtedly, the first motive; for not to be wise, but to be thought wiser, than our neighbours, is the great reward. "A distinguishing mark of rationality. You are really no philosopher, lady Straffon.—Have you never seen a dog, or cat, raise up their ears, and listen with all the avidity with which an old maid hearkens to a scandalous report of some blooming beauty of eighteen? Indeed, my dear, you must have observed this frequently; and I am

firmly persuaded, that those animals I have mentioned, are just as instinctively curious, as any dutchess in Christendom.

I THINK I have now fairly demolished all your arguments in favour of this precious commodity: but as you boast the possession of it, which I believe no woman ever did but yourself, I will shew myself the paragon of good nature, and gratify the weakness I condemn, by telling you the history of our amiable nun.
HOW unlucky now, for your poor dear curiosity! Lady Ransford has this moment alighted.—I must fly to receive her, and bid you




AND so, my pretty little Bizarre, you are really delighted, at having ruffled a female philosopher; and from thence are determined to derive self-consequence: Helas, ma pauvre enfant! How grieved am I to mortify, by undeceiving you? for I cannot help informing