But while this Part of Education is justly commended as conducive to Health, and pleasing to behold, what shall we say of those, who under the Appearance of increasing their Beauty destroy it; and who, while aiming at Health, often deprive themselves of Life. I have shewn that bodily Defects are more or less the Lot of all Mankind; but where Judgment free from Error can rectify them, we have Power to do it. If we can find a Cure for Diseases born with us, we certainly may and ought; if we can increase our Strength, and add Graces to Nature, we undoubtedly should; we may curl our Hair, increase its Growth, or cut it off; we may and ought to comb or shave our Head, pare our Nails, and scour off all that Foulness which Nature throws out upon the Surface of our Body, and maintain a constant Cleanliness: But all this does not imply that we may give ourselves a new Face; and yet little less is frequently attempted. When Nature is oppressed within us, she often, for our Relief, throws out the Malady upon the Skin; if it happen to be on the Face, we grow restless and impatient; we are ignorant of the Kindness done to us; and to remove the Blemish to our Beauty, we unadvisedly drive back the redundant Humour; perhaps on our Vitals; and thus fall a Sacrifice to our Pride or Ignorance. There is a Practice, particularly among the Great, shocking to Nature and to Reflection; that of using Paint. Paint is to the Face, what Affectation is to the Mind: as the one is a ridiculous Mimic of amiable Qualities we are Strangers to, so the other is a ridiculous Affectation of Beauty we cannot reach. But while Paint disappoints those who are attach’d to it, by conferring false Beauty, it is attended with the Mischief of impairing real; and many who by Nature alone would be comely in the Decline of Life, are, by this odious Practice, hagged even in Youth. Temperance, Exercise, good Hours, and a chearful Mind, will best preserve the Bloom of Life; but such is the present Age, such the prevailing false Taste, that Error is confounded with Error, and our corrupt Judgment is still farther corrupted. There was a Time that Paint was designed to give a false Bloom when the real was declining; but now it is used to hide even the natural Bloom: it is made an Instrument to destroy that Beauty which Providence has bestowed; and instead of being grateful for the Blessing, it is shamefully hid under a pale Enamel, or a dead White! What an Indignity, what an Affront is this to the Author of all Nature, to the Bestower of all Blessings!