TRIUMPHS OF FEMALE WIT, In Some Pindarick Odes. OR, THE EMULATION. TOGETHER With an Answer to an OBJECTOR against Female Ingenuity, and Capacity of Learning. ALSO, A Preface to the Masculine Sex, by a Young Lady.  
LONDON, Printed for T. Malthus at the Sun in the Poultry, and J. Waltho, at the Black lion in Chancery-Lane, against Lincolns-Inn. MDCLXXXIII.   

THE PREFACE TO THE Masculine Sex.  
WEll Gentlemen, your Censures I know are ready, and you as willing to bestow 'em too on a Young Lady, when ill Nature( as you call it) hinders her Compliance with the foppish Importunities of your Desires, or grows cross-grained, and w'ont submit to the usual Slavery of her Sex. Indeed I expect to find my Appearance in the behalf of injured Females, condemned not only as immodest and unfashionable, but as unnatural and unreasonable also; it being the common experienced Policy of Usurpers in Wit or Government, to overthrow the Justness of a Claimer's Title with Aspersions of Incapacity or Weakness. But as for our Fate, so far as it can be influenced either by your Brains or Tongues, I think we need not much value it, be the Severity thereof never so great or so keenly urged: for, Ingenuity of Revenge, and the witty Management of a Passion, was always looked on as a Talent peculiar to our Sex alone; a Female-Province, in which we were ever allowed to be absolute. And I am of Opinion, that there are very few of you Sparks, who have been so happy as to be engaged in innocent Intrigues with us Ladies, but must confess that we have briskness of Parts sufficient to baffle the ablest of you; nay, and to your own Sorrow too, many times have experimented the Acuteness of our Senses in resenting, and our Wit and Resolution in revenging Injuries. I fancy, had Mother Eve but foreseen this unjust Oppression of her Daughters, she would scarce have been so prodigal of the Happiness and Ease of her Sex, or so free in Complaisance to her Husband, to engage in so mean and difficult a Duty; but would rather have condemned him to the Drudgeries of Life, whilst her easy Task should be the delightful Study of Natural Curiosity; with its Variety of Productions, to make Remarks on the Labour of toiling Men, and to be Judge of their Performances. Thus far did Womans Complaisancy become her Crime and her Disadvantage; who instead of an easy pleasurable Life, is now confined to labour all the Day in the kitchen Mines of a Family, and at Night to the ungratifying Divertisement of an unperforming Husband. Well, after all, I see if ever we hope to have these Grievances redressed, we must even appeal to Dame Nature, to know what she at first designed us for, and whether the Excellency of a Female Soul could possibly be raised no higher than the management of a Needle or the ingenuity of a Pudding. Why we should not be thought capable of all the Endowments of human Nature, I cannot apprehended: I am sure we seem framed with as much skill and exactness, with the same Materials too both of Body and Mind as the best composed of you all; with this only difference, That the yielding Female Lump was with more ease wrought into Perfection, and the curious Line of natural Beauty and Ingenuity; when Man's more rugged knotty Matter could not be carved into Excellency without Flaws and Imperfections: And do not your Addresses and Amours daily confess us to be the chiefest Instruments of conveying your Blessings; Nature having made us the Stewards of all those Delights and Pleasures which Men enjoy or wish for, and entrusted our Discretion with their Disposal. Why then should not Ladies set up for Wits, in whom it is so natural to please; for Wit is nothing else but an agreeable Relish of an Object on the Apprehension: besides, the Faculties of our Souls are always brisk and sprightful, our Senses quick and intelligent; and then for the Organs of our Senses, the Instruments of Action, they are always in tune, ever ready for Exercise and Engagement. Nay, so far are we from the unpardonable Crime of dullness,( a virtue proper only to you Men) that at pleasure we( when the occasion proves inviting) can raise our obliged Senses into the pleasing Extravagancy of Rapture or diverting Wit or Passion: and then again, with as much facility and ease, can command them back unto the sober Rules of solid Wisdom. We scorn to flag, like you Sparks, in the midst of an half enjoyed pleasure, for want of Life to relish, and Vigour to finish the innocent Enjoyment. Thus far Nature furnishes us with Ability. And were but the Liberty of an Artificial Improvement, and the great Advantages of a suitable Education added to the Strength of our Parts and our natural Capacity, on my Conscience we should out-do you in the trade of Ingenuity, and soon get a stock of acquired Excellency wherewith to set up for accomplished Professors of Arts and Sciences: and I dare say that there are none of all you Sparks but would be glad to be dealing with us for Wit and Pleasure. Don't you see, whenever Generosity and Bravery of Mind( disdaining to be fettered to the mean Employments of her Sex) drives the noble Females Soul from the slavery of an entailed Ignorance unto the freedom and more agreeable pursuit of Learning and Wisdom, how soon and with what ease she becomes the deserved envy of Mankind, the Emulation of the Ingenious, and the Glory of her Sex for a rare Ingenuity. And let me tell you, Gentlemen, since we are thus happily become acquainted with our Strength, we shall often make bold to let our Wit sally out upon You the Enemies of our growing Reputation, and the unjust Invaders of our native Rights; not doubting but to return with the grateful Spoils of a just Applause, and to signalise the prevailing power of our Charms in the Triumphs of our Wit as well as Beauty: the last of which was ever allowed to be irresistible, and by the first you shall see that our methods of conquering are not always the same, but that we can captivated defenceless Men which way we please.   

THE EMULATION. A Pindarick Ode.  

I.  
AH! tell me why, deluded Sex, thus we  
Into the secret Beauty must not pry  
Of our great Athenian Deity.  
Why do we Minerva's Blessings slight,  
And all her tuneful gifts despise;  
Shall none but the insulting Sex be wise?  
Shall they be blessed with intellectual Light,  
Whilst we drudge on in Ignorances Night?  
We've Souls as noble, and as fine a day,  
And Parts as well composed to please as they.  
Men think perhaps we best obey,  
And best their servile Business do,  
When nothing else we know  
But what concerns a Kitch in or a Field,  
With all the meaner things they yield.  
As if a rational unbounded Mind  
Were only for the sordid'st task of Life designed.   

II.  
They let us learn to work, to dance, or sing,  
Or any such like trivial thing,  
Which to their profit may Increase or Pleasure bring.  
But they refuse to let us know  
What sacred Sciences doth impart  
Or the mysteriousness of Art.  
In Learning's pleasing Paths denied to go,  
From Knowledge banished, and their Schools;  
We seem designed alone for useful Fools,  
And foils for their ill shapen sense, condemned to prise  
And think 'em truly wise,  
Being not allowed their Follies to despise.  
Thus we from Ignorance to Wonder run.  
( For Admiration ceases when the Secret's known)  
Seem witty only in their praise  
And kind congratulating Lays.  
Thus to the Repute of Sense they rise,  
And thus through the applauder's Ignorance are wise.  
For should we understand as much as they,  
They fear their Empire might decay.  
For they know Women heretofore  
gained Victories, and envied laurels wore:  
And now they fear we'll once again  
Ambitious be to reign  
And to invade the Dominions of the Brain.  
And as we did in those renowned days  
Rob them of laurels, so we now will take their bays.   

III.  
But we are peaceful and will not repined,  
They still may keep their Bays as well as Wine.  
We've now no Amazonian Hearts,  
They need not therefore guard their Magazine of Arts.  
We will not on their treasure seize,  
A part of it sufficiently will please:  
We'll only so much Knowledge have  
As may assist us to enslave  
Those Passions which we find  
Too potent for the Mind.  
'tis o'er them only we desire to reign,  
And we no nobler, braver, Conquest wish to gain.   

IV.  
We only so much will desire  
As may instruct us how to live above  
Those childish things which most admire,  
And may instruct us what is fit to love.  
We covet Learning for this only end,  
That we our time may to the best advantage spend:  
Supposing 'tis below us to converse  
Always about our Business or our Dress;  
As if to serve our Senses were our Happiness.  
We'll red the Stories of the ancient Times,  
To see, and then with horror hate their Crimes.  
But all their virtues with delight we'll view,  
admired by Us, and imitated too.  
But for rewarding Sciences and Arts,  
And all the curious Products which arise  
From the contrivance of the Wise,  
We'll tune and cultivate our fruitful Hearts,  
And should Man's Envy still declare,  
Our Business only to be fair;  
Without their leave we will be wise,  
And Beauty, which they value, we'll despise.  
Our Minds, and not our Faces, we'll adorn,  
For that's the Employ to which we are born.  
The Muses gladly will their aid bestow,  
And to their Sex their charming Secrets show.  
Whilst Man's brisk Notions owe their rise  
To an inspiring Bottle, Wench, or 'vice,  
Must be debauched and damned to get  
The Reputation of a Wit.  
To Nature only, and our softer Muses, we  
Will owe our Charms of Wit, of Parts, and Poetry.   
Written by a Young Lady.   

THE ANSWER TO THE EMULATION. A Pindarick Ode.  

I.  
WHat daring Female is't who thus complains,  
In Masculine Pindarick Strains,  
Of great Apollo's salic Law;  
Both breaks it, and pretends that she  
Pleads only for her Native Liberty.  
Whilst in a rapid over-flowing tide  
Of Wit and Fancy, which no Banks are able to abide,  
She strikes the Guards of Helicon  
With a surprising awe,  
And Amazonian-like, compels 'em to withdraw.   

II.  
Stand valiant she, a Parley I desire;  
Whence had you this poetic Fire?  
I fear, Prometheus-like, y'have stolen  
A Spark designed to form a manly Soul.  
Forbear, bold Nymph, thus to aspire,  
You needs must know, ingenious Dame,  
'twas from Jove's Brain alone Minerva came.  
Nature indeed hath made your Sex of use  
Unknowing Infants to produce.  
But sure she ne're designed it  
To make your Brains prolifick, or your Wit.   

III.  
Which of the Arts,  
Except that one of captivating Hearts,  
Doth the World owe to Woman kind?  
And 'tis not to monopolise  
The Law allows it to the wise,  
That he who proves so happy as to find  
Some undiscovered useful Skill  
Should use it at his will.  
And the sole profit be to him confined.  
At least until  
Some tolerable gains  
Have recompensed his cost and pains.  
But when, alas! will Arts repay  
The time, health, cost, and pains upon them thrown away?   

IV.  
'tis not that Men infult or would enslave  
Your Sex, that they engross Apollo's mines;  
Methinks you should more pity have  
For those whom you have robbed of all their Store,  
Than thus to envy them their toil and pains,  
To gain some part of what they had before.  
No, let 'em dig and delve, what need you care,  
'tis too hard labour for the fair.  
And when the dross is purged and gone,  
'tis not for ourselves alone  
That we such tedious labour take,  
Next to ourselves, 'tis for your sake.  
To your fair Sex we willingly commit  
Our Golden Wisdom and our Silver Wit.   

V.  
Nature hath made your Sex with curious Art,  
Your Souls too are ingenious and bright,  
Both full of Beauty as the Sons of light.  
And Woman is the Rib that lies most near the Heart.  
Therefore I must advice the witty She  
Not to indulge this longing still,  
Lest you miscarry when you see  
Your power not equal to your will.  
Alas! forbidden Fruit you know  
Did on the three of Knowledge grow,  
And when hardy thick scull'd Man  
Spends and cracks his studious Brain,  
And instead of gaining more  
Loses what he had before;  
So those whom Emulation sets at strife  
To gain the three of Knowledge often lose the three of Life.   

VI.  
That muddy Stream of Time.  
In which your Sex, that prison of your Souls,  
Your rational unbounded Mind controls,  
Swiftly into the eternal Ocean rolls:  
And then  
You'll find no cause to envy Men.  
It will not be who studied most,  
N'one his Attainments then shall boast.  
'tis not a studious Life that brings  
The necessary Knowledge of revealed things.  
And all will then receive,  
Not as they knew, but as they did believe.  
Then trouble not your Quiet so,  
Hard and unnecessary things to know:  
Knowledge divine you may attain  
Without the labour of the Brain.  
Histories and moral Precepts too  
Are not denied to you;  
But for the Learning of the Schools,  
That can't make Women wise, that makes Men Fools.  
Philosophy's uncertain Light  
Is but a wild Fire in the Night:  
And all the rest we Wisdom call,  
Is either little so, or not at all.  
Each Limb of Learning hath the Gout  
Of an incurable and painful Doubt.  
And by the acute Disease  
The richest Men are always least at ease.   

VII.  
But you have Passions to subdue;  
More you would know, because you more would do;  
You're sensible of Ignorances Night,  
And fain would glut your Sight  
With a full view of intellectual Light.  
And may your Wish successful prove,  
For Ladies should enjoy whate'er they love.  
May you walk safe in Learnings milky way,  
Know all that Men and Angels say,  
Expand your Souls to Truth as wide as day.  
But when you're grown wise as well as fair,  
Then, Lady, have a care.  
Ambitious thoughts will rise,  
And you will know that you are wise.  
A Woman Fair, Wise, learned, and Humble too,  
Will be a Species alone,  
A phoenix true,  
talked of by all but seen by none.   
Written by Mr. H.   

A REPLY TO THE ANSWERER OF THE EMULATION. A Pindarick Ode.  

I.  
FRom whence, Usurping Man, thy boasted Claim,  
To all the Riches of the Brain?  
Did good Apollo e're deny  
Charms to Orinda's Poetry?  
How then infringed are sacred Laws of Wit,  
Whilst our tuneful Passions move  
In measures pre-ordain'd by Jove!  
And justly, only unambitious, we  
Assert our Native Liberty.  
With modest Bravery maintain our Female right  
To that divine inspiring Spring  
Which envious Man encloseth in;  
Lest Draughts permitted to each Wishing she  
Should turn to pleasing well digested ecstasy.   

II.  
Mistrustful Man, thus nobly I comply,  
To prove our native Ingenuity:  
No wonder you thus Sense defend,  
With watchful Cares on it attend:  
Since all the Graces of the manly Soul  
Were basely by Prometheus stolen.  
Whilst from willing Jove's indulgent Brain  
The graceful uncompell'd Minerva came.  
Yet generous we do not refuse  
The ungrateful Sex still to produce.  
Our Pain and Labour gives you Life, and hence  
Your dull and phlegmy Heads are framed for Sense.   

III.  
The most unboasted of our Arts  
Is to triumph o'er defenceless Hearts.  
At Pleasure we enslave and kill,  
For such mean Trophies of our Skill  
Do never fail the motions of our Will.  
For nobler Actions we design  
To conquer Men in things sublime:  
Each unintreaguing She hath Wit to rule,  
And make the most exalted Man of Sense a Fool.  
What outward Ornaments you get  
Are still the Products of our Wit.  
Not as unfit, in Prudence we forsake  
The toilsome Guidance of the State,  
To load our Slaves with that uneasy Fate.  
Our choice Endowments kindly we employ,  
More to teach Men Wisdom than enjoy.  
And as for things you idly cast away,  
As you deserve so wisely we repay.   

IV.  
And should Men all Apollo's treasure get,  
'twill ne're prevail to conquer us:  
The least Degree of Female Wit  
Defends us from that hated Curse.  
Indeed we pity much your toil,  
That Weeds should still o'respread your Soil.  
But Labour well doth manly Souls befit,  
For their tough Notions must be thrashed for Wit;  
For us whilst Nature doth device  
Less painful methods to be wise:  
But after all your Cost and Pain,  
So worthless is what e're you gain;  
That it's beneath our Love and Care  
Too mean Concernment for the fair.   

V.  
Kind Nature's Bounty, Sir, confess,  
Our Wit than Beauty more express.  
Whatever Graces in us shine  
Derive their lustre from the Mind.  
That little All that needy Man could spare  
To make up Woman most complete and fair,  
Was but a Rib, that crooked too,  
Which Nature, forced, was to undo,  
To make it straight, and able to receive  
That tuneful high-born Soul she gave.  
How then can we unjustly aim  
At things beyond our native Claim:  
Or how to high aspire  
Such sacred bright celestial Fire?  
These lawful Longings we will ne're suppress,  
Or fear Miscarriage till we make 'em less:  
Whilst rash ungoverned Men their Bliss destroy,  
Not knowing how to wish or to enjoy.  
We'll so direct, with prudent Care, our Flight,  
T'enjoy at once the three of Knowledge and of Life.   

VI.  
Down the muddy Stream of Time  
( In which we all so fast decline)  
'vice hurries Man with a reboubled place,  
And taints his Soul with Dullness or Disgrace.  
Whilst Temperance supplies what time decays,  
And Virtue crowns us with the Bays.  
No dull or phleg my Humours e're control  
The Native Briskness of the Soul,  
Still active we through subtle Nature drive,  
And gather Sweets to deck our lasting Hive.  
But when  
Unresisting Mortals come  
To pay the improvement of their Beings down;  
There'll be no cause to envy Men:  
For then their Pride and vain Conceit  
Of Parts and Learning must abate:  
That Wit and Wisdom which they boast,  
As not substantial, must be lost.  
'tis Female Souls shall then appear  
The most unsullied, bright, and clear;  
adorned with all their stock of Virtue gathered here.  
By these safe methods 'tis we move  
From Glories here to greater ones above.  
To the search of Knowledge all are bound,  
For Truth 'tis fits us to be crowned.  
But when rash Man lets fly  
His ill fletc'd thoughts at swifter mystery;  
No wonder if he find  
At length his Reason lost or blind;  
For fatal Disappointment always springs  
From the needless search of unrevealed things:  
We only let our Reason go  
At things convenient fit to know:  
We act just as the Gods enjoin,  
And on permitted Objects fix our aim:  
Whilst bold ungoverned Men do doubly err,  
Both in the Object, and the way they steer.  
Such the Learning of the Schools,  
Error gilded and dressed by Rules,  
contrived to gloss and set off Fools.  
Such cheating Knowledge we despise,  
Had rather still be ignorantly wise.  
True Wisdom and Philosophy  
Mount our Souls on high,  
And never led our steady thoughts awry:  
For solid Reason still unerring goes  
Thro' Nature's mighty heap of Causes, shows  
How this from that, and whence they all arose.  
We go by no uncertain Light,  
Our Reason keeps us always right.  
Those Doubtings which we find  
Oppress the motions of the manly Mind,  
From Inadvertency arise,  
Or want of Parts and Power to be wise.   

VII.  
Our Senses ne're unruly grow,  
We only act what Reason prompts us to;  
And we that Knowledge only choose.  
Whose free permitted Use  
Adds new Perfection to the mind,  
Which us to Virtue and our Maker closely bind.  
No meaner Objects keep  
A just Proportion with our well-set appetite.  
All that's just, that's great, or good,  
By Women's rightly understood.  
To trim our Souls we this employ,  
And them to brighter Glories thus convey.  
With such becoming modesty we rise  
To all the Graces of the wise.  
No Pride our Wisdom e're shall spoil,  
Or fond Conceit our Wit defile.  
Know Sir, that Women, witty, wise, and fair,  
Than worthy Men more plenty are:  
For we not only Men excel  
In choicer Gifts, but Wit to use 'em well.   
Written by Mr. F.  
FINIS.