Book i fcLj_5JE.Ce. 33/ THE EPICS OF THE TON 5 OR, THE GLORIES OF THE GREAT 1F0RLB : IN TWO BOOKS, WITH NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. Omnes illacrymabiles Urgentur ignotique longa Nocte, carent quia vate sacro. — HOR. O say shall those who just so bright have shone, Escape remembrance when they quit the Ton ? Their laurels wither'd, and their name forgot, As dog on dunghill has been said to rot! Icmscn ; PRINTED BY AND FOR C. AND R. BALDWIN, NEW-BRIDGE-STIIEET. 1807. T1?47 3 ^ D.7YL If Ti'oo. TO THE GENTLE READER. _lT is pleasing to know the name of an Author, and doubly gratifying to learn his private history. If he is no niggard of due commendations, one may thus discover, whether he is a person that one should like to invite to one's table; and, if he is a satyrist, it would be convenient to ascertain, if one might safely spit in his face. But in this world, there is no such thing as obtaining all one's wishes ; for truly said the Roman poet long ago : • Nihil est ab omni Parte beatum. You may however rest assured, Gentle Reader, that no pains have been spared, on the present oc- casion, to gratify your reasonable curiosity. The Publisher has, at an expence too extravagant to be believed, procured the celebrated Mr. , who can distinguish the styles of all men that have written, or that may write, to inspect the manu- script, and discover the author. This learned and ingenious gentleman, has at length, with indefatiga- ble industry } succeeded in fixing the performance, by indubitable marks, on no less than thirteen very witty authors now alive ; but which of these is th e real author, (for one of them it evidently must be) is humbly left to the unerring judgment of the 'public. All that is further necessary to be added, is a flat contradiction of the ridiculous and injuri- ous report, so industriously propagated, that it is a posthumous production of Mr. Tobin, whose Muse first smooth'' d the fashionable world ivitli the Honey- moon, and then prepared to roughen it with the Pharo Table. That it cannot be the work of this (late) man is unquestionable ; first, because it is impossible that the same author, who descended to a comedy, coidd rise to an Epic Poem ; secondly, be- cause his dramas are written in blank verse, whereas the following piece is composed in rhyme; thirdly, because, according to the old and undoubted adage, dead men tell no tales, whereas, in the succeeding pages, some tales are told. And lastly, because the dirge of the said Tobin is sung in the following pages, and no man was ever heard to sing his own dirge. The notes, it is needless to add, are by a different hand ; but of necessity extremely well executed, since they were paid for at the very highest rate of sheet-work. CONTENTS TO PART I. OR, THE FEMALE BOOK. Page M F 14 M of A 18 22 D of G 24 L— M P 3 D of R ; M C ; D of M ; D of B— 27 L L M 30 D of S A 33 D of D 35 M of S 39 C of B 41 C of M 43 M of A 54 M of A 56 L H 59 V C 66 L C C 67 D of R 72 L— P > 83 COWTFNTS. Page ■ of D 87 C CG -M ■ 105 CONTENTS TO PART II. THE MALE BOOK. Page. D of P 120 L H P 126 S P 142 L G 153 G C 166 G- — R 177 W W 1 S3 R B S 197 L E 226 L R 234 E of H 242 E of C 250 D of Q 253 E of M 260 THE EPICS OF THE TON, BOOK THE FIRST; BEING THE FEMALE BOOK. THE EPICS OF THE TON: THE FEMALE BOOK. VV hile dull historians only sing of wars, Of hoocUwink'd treaties hatching keen-ey'd jars ; Of wily statesmen splitting hairs asunder, Of hills and orators who belch and thunder j Of grinding taxes, and of tott'ring thrones, 5 Of him who eats up states, and picks the bones : Say shall the brightest glories of our age, Who best adorn the cut, and grace the page, Line 4.] The eruptions of Mount Vesuvius. Dr. Lawrence, &c. Line 6.] This mode of expression, when we consi- der the dimensions and isophagical capacity cf the little great man, seems rather more appropriate than the ce- lebrated figure swallowing us up quick. B 2 4 EPICS OF THE TON ! Who on the top of fashion's Ida dwell, And gold in showers produce to either Bell j 10 O say shall these, who just so bright have shone, Escape remembrance when they quit the Ton ? Their laurels wither'd, and their name forgot, As dog on dunghill has been said to rot ? Line 10.] It is needless to inform my fashionable readers that La Belle Asstmblee, that ornament of every lady's toilet, is published by Bell the father ; while Le Beau Monde, that inseparable companion of every man of fashion, is given to the world by Bell the son. But it is necessary to state that a promise on the part "of these gentlemen is the cause why this volume is not adorned with plates. A.s they have advertised their in- tention of giving, the subjects of my song to the public in a series of engravings, of which the first will appear in an early number of their valuable repositories, I thought it unnecessary to increase the price of my pub- lication by embellishing it with plates. The fashionable world may depend upon it that the elegance of the exe- cution will correspond with their highest expectations j and I would recommend to all lovers of this volume to secure good impressions, by early ordering La Belle As- semble and Le Beau Monde for the next two or three years. Had it not been for this undertaking of Messrs Bell, each of the following epics would have been THE FEMALE BOOK. 5 Forbid it honour ! and forbid it shame ! 15 The love of glory, and the love of game ! Forbid it, Muse, who oft with glowing strains Have rais'd sensations in high ladies' veins ; You who, with Ethredge, roved in royal stores, When beauties, like hobnails, were told by scores ; 20> adorned with a cut, exhibiting a striking likeness of the hero or heroine. Note by the Author. Line 19.] Every one knows the author of the " Fop in Fashion." His morals were a lesson to the bag- nios ; his conduct an improvement on his precepts. At the licentious court of Charles the Second his volup- tuous plays gave a zest to the languid intervals of de- bauchery j and his Dorimant taught the. youth of both sexes to mingle wit with wine, and address with profli- gacy. Half a century afterwards, the elegant pen of Addison could scarcely banish his lewd ribaldry from the toilet. His end corresponded with his life. After having wasted his fortune and his nose in the service of Bacchus and of Venus, he tumbled down stairs, as he rose from one of his debauches, and broke his neck in the very article of drunkenness. Line 20.] It is needless to tell the knowing reader of those rows of female figures, with stiff necks and wry heads, which are usually seen suspended in old 6 EPICS OF THE TON : Or with poor Smollett, fain for gold to tickle, Wrought up with liquorish gust, the feats of Pickle ; Or, sinning deeper, like repentant Punk, Call'd gloating females to abhor the Monk ; galleries, and which are known by the name of King Charles's Beauties. Line 21.] Poor Smollett ! It is lamentable to recol- lect that the author of Roderick Random and of Hum- phrey Clinker should have prostituted his pen to deli- neate the debaucheries of Peregrine Pickle. Does the latter display genius ? so much the worse. The prosti- tute, who haunts the way side in rags, only disgusts the loathing eye : it is she, whose voluptuous limbs shine through the transparent muslin, that lures us to our ruin. Peregrine Pickle adorns many a toilet, where Aristotle's Master-piece would be thought to carry inde- lible pollution. It is said that my Lord , on entering her ladyship's apartment one morning, per- ceived the third volume of Peregrine Pickle under her pillow. As she was asleep, he gently withdrew it, and substituted in its room a Common Prayer Book. One may imagine her ladyship's surprise, when on awaking, and resorting to her dear morning treat, she found the amours of Mrs. B. converted by magic art, into the Litany. Line 24.] It was a good moral thought, to create a THE FEMALE BOOK. 7 Or with young Teius sung of am'rous blisses, 25 With one eternal round of hugs and kisses : general abhorrence of Vice, by producing her stark- naked before the world. But unfortunately, so tempt- ing, so piquant did the fiend appear, that the daughters as well as the sons of Jerusalem began to long after strange flesh. In short, the developement produced, if it was not intended to produce, the same effect as when Alcibiades bared the bosom of the Athenian courtezan before the judges. The dread of the pillory, however, on this, as on other occasions, proved an admirable cor- rector of the press ; and the second edition of the Monk proved a very harmless and a very insipid performance. The jest was gone ; and it has left its author only a name. Line 26*.] Such are his never-ending themes ; as the everlasting joys of love and wine were sung by the elder Teian. Yet it must be owned, that if he seldom expresses more than hugs and kisses, he often comes very near something more substantial. Witness the Wedding Ring. — 1 ' And now, — O Heaven" I am not apt to dread much from bad books, but I must own I was startled when I discovered these salacious lays on a lady's dressing table. Thanks to my happy stars ! nei- ther she, nor Mrs. T. is my wife. There 'is a consi- derable adaptation to the subject in the following stan- 8 EPICS OF THE TON ! From next year's Lethe, and oblivion drear, Come save the deeds which you have help'd to rear. zas, which appeared in the Morning Herald of the 25th of last October : " On certain Lice?itious Poems lately published ;" " O listen to the voice of love, " Wild boars of Westphaly ! " Your pretty hearts let music move, " 'Tis Mauro's harmony. " Your ear incline, ye gende swine, " While he extols your loves j " For though from you he learnt to whine, " Yet he the song improves. " Listen each bristly beau and belle, <( And leave the genial tray j " You'll rind the poet's song excel " Fresh acorns and sweet whey. " O listen to the voice of love, " Ram cats on moonlight tiles, " The minstrel of the lemon grove " Records your Cyprian wiles. " Ye goats that ply your nimble shanks " On ancient Penmanmaur, " Bleat him your thanks, who sings your pranks, " While satyrs cry encore, THE FEMALE BOOK. 9 Should'st thou, my lay, shine splendid as thy theme, Like rushlights to thy sun, all bards should seem: 30 Then still might Southey sing his crazy Joan, Or feign a Welshman o'er th' Atlantic flown, Or tell of Thalaba the wondrous matter, Or with clown Wordsworth chatter, chatter, chatter; " And all ye Incubi that ride " The night-mare through the gloom, " The chorus swell. — Your poet's shell " Is strung from Circe's loom." Line 31.] This man, the Blackmore of the age, if we look at the number of his Epics, might become its Dryden, if his fancy were chastened by judgment, and his taste cleansed from the maggots of the new school. But, mistaking facility of composition for inspiration, and imagining that to restrain the overwhelming flood of his versification would be to dam up the pure current of genius, his swoln torrent is likely to overflow for a while, and then subside into a very pitiful streamlet. But it is in vain to admonish. — Volvitur et volvetur — alas ! that we cannot add — in opine •volubilis cevum ! . Line 34.] Every one knows how meritoriously Wordsworth has laboured to bring back our poetry to the simplicity of nature. In his unsophisticated pages we discover no gaudy trappings, no blazing metaphors, no affected attempts at poetical diction. Every thing is 10 EPICS OF THB TON ! Still Rogers bland his imitations twine, 35 And strain his Memory for another line; pure from the hand of untutored nature ; nor do we dis cover a single thought or phrase that might not hav been uttered by a promising child of six years old What an improvement is this on the laboured conceit* of Pope ! on the learned lumber of Milton ! Yet I will aver, that there may be found in Wordsworth beauties which these poets never reached, nor even dreamt of. Produce me from all their writings any thing to match the simply affecting tale of Goody Blake and Harry Gill ; or a line in which the sound so well corresponds with the sense, as in the following description of Harry's doom — " His teeth went chatter, chatter, " Chatter, chatter, chatter, still." What renders the beautiful superiority of this mode of expression still more striking, is the facility with which it may be employed, with equal effect, on a thousand different occasions. For example, it might be said of Goody Blake, who now wanted the teeth : Her gums went mumble, mumble, Mumble, mumble, mumble, still. Or of ladies on pattens — Their feet went clatter, clatter, Clatter, clatter, clatter, still. Or of the persevering efforts of a dog at a furze bush- Here Lightfoot he made water, water, Water, water, water, still. THE FEMALE BOOK. II Good-natured Scott rehearse in well-paid Lays The marv'lous chiefs and elves of other days ; Or lazy Campbell spin his golden strains, And have the Hope he nurtures, for his pains — 40 Line 35.] There is much in the title of a book j and if there is nothing else for which an author deserves praise, still his ingenuity ought to be applauded if he has devised a happy appellation for his work. Eveiy one feels the pleasures of memory : the very words ex- cite a thousand agreeable associations 5 and miserable must the minstrel be, who cannot chime in a few notes that will please, when the soul is so fully prepared to enjoy them. On such an occasion, the unoffending strains of Rogers, — soft, delicate, polished, sympathetic youth ! could not fail to be interesting ; but he may thank the blessed powers of verse that Goldsmith lived, and that the Traveller and the Deserted Village were written. Line 37.] In former days poets we are told could not make a bare livelihood of the fruit of their brains. They might sing like Syrens, and beg like gipsies, and yet after all they could scarcely make a shift to dine on one dish, and drink small beer. Times, it would ap- pear, are altered. Scott, by producing before us the lays of our ancient minstrels, and by himself bringing up the rear, enjoys large prices of copy-rights, and a couple of good offices. To his honour be it said, few men deserve better to thrive in the world. 12 EPICS OF THE TON' : Thou shouldst triumphant mount to distant times, And bear aloft thy heroes on thy rhymes ; Well known to all that soar, and all that crawl, On every dressing-table, ever}' stall, Thy circulation should thy worth bespeak, 45 And thousands still be sold through many a week; Line 35'.] The first poetical genius of our age ; but, unfortunately, more a wit than discreet. With such lagging steps were his first efforts, his Pleasures o Hope, followed up, that we began to look upon it as one of the bright rays which the sun of genius some- times darts forth at his rising' and afterwards plunges his head in impenetrable clouds, which never leave him till he sets. But the Battle of Hohenlinden proved that the genius of Campbell was still to shine, and to exceed in his noon the promise of his morn. Alas ! how men neglect the talents by which they are destined to excel ! how they waste their efforts in what they can never achieve ! Campbell must needs be a politician, and write a history. — He that could soar to the empyreal regions, must needs lay aside his wings, and attempt, at the imminent danger of his neck, to dance on the slack rope ! Line 40.] It is now said he has got a pension. This may relieve his wants, but not retrieve his reputation. It is miserable to see the man, whose talents might pro- cure him opulence with fame, hold out his suppliant THE FEMALE BOOK. 13 While tomes thrice learn'd, that piled in warehouse groan, Would but to snuff-shops have their merits known. Then, Muse of Ton, begin ; and while thy song In no unmeaning eddies strays along ; 50 With blank most eloquent, and hint that flames, Unfolds redoubted chiefs, and high-bred dames ; Bids a whole epic upon each attend, With quaint beginning, middle, and smart end ; hand, and fawn on a courtier for a morsel of bread. Line 50.] Surely it would be far more gratifying to see the streams of poetry distributed in all the fantastic shapes known two centuries ago ; spouted from the mouths of Tritons or Naiads, dashed over cataracts ten feet high, and tossed by jetties' over the surface of a yard-wide pool : — than to behold them, after the pre- sent fashion, meandring through a smooth shaven lawn, in a channel cut out of the sod, and just so many inches broad in every quarter, without a single solitary pebble to give a little play to the ever-glassy surface. Line 54.] This admirable and ancient definition of an epic poem (to which the following epics correspond as completely as any that have ever been written) ap- pears, as is usual with the beauties of antiquity, to have a reference to certain striking analogies in nature ; such, C 14 EPICS OF THE TON: I in my buggie, thine advcnt'rous Knight, 55 Through Rotten Row will tend upon thy flight; Whate'cr thy Sybil voice shall utter, save, And now and then myself indite a stave. Ye female glories ! Be it first your turn, Who shine the brightest as ye fiercest burn. 60 V / M F "y ■ . Whom shalt thou, 'midst this full blown garden, choose, To form thy first bright wreathe, discerning muse ? Say, are not her's the most exalted charms, Who lures an H ^?' A to her arms ? And hopes to shine the first of r-^-y — 1 *» — , 65 Nell Gwyns unnoticed then, and Pompadours ? for instance, as that of all quadrupeds and many bipeds, each of which has a beginning, a middle, and an end, or in other words, a head, a belly, and a tail. Line 55.] Thus Pope : — " I in my little bark attendant sail," &c. Line G6\] Madame Pompadour; one of the most THE FEMALE BOOK. 15 What though drear wrinkles on her brow be seen, And fat alone remains where fair has been ? What though a duskier hue, and flaccid frame, All out of season speak the rancid game ? 70 insolent, unprincipled, profligate, and revengeful, of those harlots who, in France, trampled all virtue and decency under foot ; and, by shewing how much mo- rals and religion were despised in the palace of the sove- reign, loosened the hold of these ties over the minds of the people, and precipitated the throne of France to its ruin. How blind are princes, how criminal, when they endanger their own destruction, and the good order, virtue, and happiness of their people, for such sensual gratifications as would appear despicable in the lowest debauchee ! Will no warning voice be heard ? no repetition of examples strike ? The profligacy of Louis the Fifteenth, was followed by the death of his successor on a scaffold. Happy Britain ! thy virtuous King has set a far different example ; and, amidst all the temptations of a court, has never once deviated from the wife of his youth. Line 68.] The reader will readily recollect the cele- brated toast, fat, fair, and forty. Line 70.] It is needless to descant to my readers of taste on the rich relish of game when in season. 10' EPICS OF THE TON : Though all that's gross must now be born to please. And love be lured by its excessive ease ? Though toilsome arts and ever-varied charms Must back entice her lover to her arms ? (Some swains will stray in closure, or in common,; 5 Where'er their scent detects a fat old woman, As late hoar J felt her power to fix, And wiser H scorn'd at fifty-six : — ) What though around her sneer her seeming slaves ? And loud and fierce the man of Diamond raves ? 80 What though deep groans foreboding parents breathe, And turn their eyes indignant to Blackheath ? " Line SO.] When an honest unsuspecting man has been deceived by warm professions of friendship, en- trapped by specious promises, and at length deserted by those who have caused his ruin, I detest his betrayers, I pity bis misfortunes, I would stand forth to proclaim his wrongs to the world, and assert his right to redress. But when a very sycophant, after having licked the footsteps of a patron and his , whose character he well knew, is at' length cast off, and begins in a half-whining, half-angry tone, to remonstrate thus be- fore the world: — "Was I not the most assiduous of your slaves ? Did I not do all your dirty jobs without a THE FEMALE BOOK. 17 In her barouche while r 1 will roll, Or love between her mountain breasts to loll ; While round the course, or through the shining Steine, 8.' Train'd to her side a p y prize is seen To catch, with smiles, her glances as they fly, And search for lustre in her hollow'd eye — Still crouds will gaze, still Brighthelmstonewill shout, Still titled ladies throng her envied rout : QO By sires who kneel before the rising sun, By mothers who no shame for courts would shun, Still blooming daughters to her levees led, Shall learn betimes to stain the marriage bed. O Britain's Queen ! accept the tribute due 05 To Virtue, Honour, Modesty, and You : murmur ? Would I not still have done so, had you not kicked me, spit upon me, left me sprawling in the dirt?" When I listen to a scene of this sort, I only moralize to myself, that spaniels who snarl deserve to have their ears pulled. Line 84.] " Hinc atque hinc vastae rupes." Virgil. 18 EPICS OF THE TON : Though this loose age, by French example wise, The sacred rites of wedded love despise j Though matrons shine, when lost their honest name, And with th' adult'rer proudly flaunts the dame; 100 Yet her I honour to whose single court, Chaste maids may still without a blush resort ; Even if the lewd should come, they come unknown, And Vice itself must here its name disown ! M— ■ of A~A. But quit, my Muse, oh quit these humble scenes, 105 Nor stoop to queens, from feats surpassing queens. A would-be princess thee provokes to scan Her flight from King to Emp'ror, Czar, Sultan ; To bound with her where Rhone and Danube glide, Or pant for glory by the Neva's side ; 110 By Dnieper's stream, or rude Crimean height, To prune thy wing, and emulate her flight ; Line 95. ~] Here the author himself speaks 3 for the Muse of the Ton is plainly silent. THE FEMALE BOOK. 19 Then at the Haram's door her watch to keep, Blest haunt ! where virgins ne'er were known to peep. Or see her thence return'd, with bolder fame, 1 1 5 That spurns the vulgar tongue, and treads on shame, Try kings in vain, and after all miscarriage, Entrap a pur-blind M-^^-g " e into marriage. An easier task now, Hymen, thou hast got, A prince may fix her, though a peer could not ; 120 A royal Lord may rein her peccant part, Who, from his foot, picks up her bleeding heart : Line 114.] We are assured that no lady is ever al- lowed to enter the Seraglio, without sharing in the ho- nours of the place. This is no more to be dispensed with than the oaths at Highgate. Line 121.] Peccant part means her head. Line 122.] About nineteen the beautiful dame was led to the altar, and became the mother of several chil- dren 3 by whom, it is not to be questioned, since her husband was within the narrow seas. Unfortunately, however, she in time discovered that there existed be- tween herself and her spouse that great cause of mental divorce, incompatibility of temper. He was not the being with whom her soul had panted to shine through life, and her eager fancy began to long after brighter 20 EPICS OF THE TON' ! Sooth she'll not part, nor he to snarl begin, Good Germans care not for small slips a pin. Hail love of glory ! passion great and blest ! 125 But triply noble in a female breast ! Rapt bards have sung thy feats, in days of yore, With Spartan matrons, and with hundreds more ; How thou could'st make gay damsels fire the trenches, And generalissimos of ostler wenches : 130 visions. In this frame of mind, as she one night lay by the side of her sleeping lord, she fell into a ^ort of rap- turous slumber, and dreamed that lo ! her heart lay bleeding at her feet ! All night long she ruminated on this remarkable vision, and towards day concluded its interpretation must be that " he who should at length pick up her bleeding heart would be a personage so great, that it must needs roll in the dust before him." Is it to be wondered at that this bright prospect should tempt her to quit a foolish husband, and a bevy of clamorous children, after having drawled through this fatiguing scene (not wholly barren of other pleasures) for fourteen years ? Line 124.] See the play of the Stranger, and various fashionable German novels, which teach husbands to bear, with perfect good humour, certain accidents hi- therto accounted grievous mishaps. Line 130.] Such was the invigorating occupation of THE FEMALE BOOK. 21 Yet sure thy power exceeds what poets feign, If e'er thy ruling force these aims should gain, To Jove's imperial bird convert the raven, And Lady Mary make of Lady — . Nor these bright trophies sate the kindling dame, 135 She grasps the lyre, and pants for deathless fame ; Erects a stage, where her own scenes appear, The poet she, and she the actor here ; the Maid of Arc, whom Southey has transformed into a moon-struck shepherdess. Line 134.] Such was the secret spring of all the wonderful movements which we have mentioned. To be another Lady M — ry W — rt — y M — nt — g — ue ! To shine in the eyes of the present generation, and be equally admired by the next ! Hence the banks of the Hellespont were attained by the circuitous route of Weimar, Paris, Venice, Vienna, Warsaw, Petersburgh, Moscow, dim Tartary, and the Bosphorus ! ! ! Hence Paris,, and Constantinople, and Athens, were be- written in letters, and be-printed in narratives. Luckily, at the very moment of return, the forsaken peer kindly quitted this nether world, and left the heroine free and unconfined to mount aloft to her high destiny. Line 137.] In the name of old Father Thames., I 22 EPICS OF THE TON ! Here far above all vulgar flight she soars, Spouts what she dreams, inditing what she roars ; Of all inglorious rivals makes a riddance, 141 And shines at once a Centlivre and Siddons. Hail rap'trous moments ! hail ingenious dame ! Her pleasures doubled, as her doubled fame ! She hugs in fancy, as the scene she plies ; 145 And acting it, she hugs in solid guise. Peace to such venial faults ! But were it told A woman lived still profligate though old ; One who, from youth, at each unhallow'd fire, Had glow'd and batten'*d to her heart's desire; 150 As dead to shame, to every generous thought, As Mother Win, who long has sold and bought; thank her h s for erecting this antique Gothic Thes- pian barn on his banks, to die great delight and edifica- tion of his holiday votaries. Some persons have said (what will not envy say ?) that it is a curious contradic- tion in taste to imprint false marks of antiquity so zea- lously upon this pile, v hile she eft'aces the real ones with no less industry from her own person. THE FEMALE BOOK. 23 A hacknied gamester who has driven the trade To snare each unfledg'd youth and artless maid ; In passion nurtur'd, to indulgence bred, 155 And blest in any but her husband's bed ; While Virtue shudder'd, and Repentance wept, A wife, a mother, keeping oft and kept ; Known to " the general camp, pioneers and all," My lord above-stairs, Thomas in the hall ; 100 No sin abridged as life's dark close draws near, And quite a wanton in her sixtieth year Is English air defil'd by such a hag ? Haste, shut her up with cat, snake, ape, in bag ! Line 159.] " What though the general camp, pio- neers and all, " Had tasted her sweet body." Shakspeare. Line 164.) By a law among the Romans, persons guilty of certain atrocious crimes were shut up in a bag with a cat, an ape, and a serpent, and so thrown into the Tiber. It is difficult to say what reformation an ex- ample or two of this kind might work in the present day. EPICS OF THE TON : Nay, lady, frown not at these random hits — 165 But let her take it whom the bonnet fits. D of G . Bawl not so loud ! nor shake the muse's nerves -. She hastes to sing thee as thy worth deserves. O destin'd by the fates, in happiest hour, To shew the triumphs of the love of power ; 1 "O And teach the world against what fearful odds, A girl of Scotland may approach the Gods ! Line l66.~\ Our author, to make the real vices of the age appear trivial, seems to have drawn, from his imagina- tion, a fictitious character of a peculiarly deformed aspect. This is an innocent artifice to transmit to posterity as favourable an impression of his own times as possible. Whether he had in his eye any noted character of an- cient days, I am unable to determine, since he has not even afforded room for conjecture, by prefixing any mysterious capitals to the delineation. But certain it i<, that no personage of this description can have existed since the days of Messalina, unless perhaps that fair Borgia, whose knight-errant Roscoe has so gallantly de- clared himself. Line 172.] Not those of Olympus, or the Upper Gallery. THE FEMALE BOOK. 25 Few nymphs, new fledg'd, with eagle eye could trace The sudden frailties of his am'rous Grace ; Or move a griping draper with the pledge, 1 75 In one short night to set the peer on edge. Few, in a ten-foot parlour taught to shine, Where captains sometimes flirt, and parsons dine, Could set the winter circles in a blaze, While dowagers with double vision gaze : ] SO First at the rout, the ring, the masque, the ball, Where dice-box rattles, or Signoras squall ; At Faro's orgies fam'd, with bolder flight, To win or lose a fortune in a night : Line 175.] Such, according to report, was the manner in which the finery was procured for the ball at which this gallant feat was achieved. His grace danced with the enchanting Miss M , and from that lucky moment conceived an irresistible propensity to conduct her to the altar. Line 180.] I wonder that none of our ingenious ca- ricaturists have caught this idea: — a dowager shifting around her chair from the card-table, adjusting her spec- tacles, and then intently employing her double vision to criticise the young thing just produced in public. D EPICS OF THE TON I A politician who, with equal case, 155 Can twine a courtier, or a parson please ; Shine to the one, the gay, the gallant duchess, Whose passions fly, whose virtue limps on crutches ; While t'other, edified by looks so holy, Thanks Heaven that greatness now's divorced from folly ! 1 99 With mind too noble for her rustic dear, She takes his tame four thousand pounds a vear ; In fashion's circles keeps alive his name, And makes him shine (his all) with borrow'd fame; Destin'd the glory of his house to prove, 195 And but withhold that trifling thing — her love. Thus Hanover's bold sons, in mighty power, Wear our red jerkins, and our beef devour ; Shake the parade, or make th' exchequer light, And any thing for Britain do — but fight. 200 And yet a loftier note the muse might swell, Of peers led captive by her magic spell ; Line 100.] Jt is a current opinion among the wor- thy parsons in a northern province, that there is not such another theologian in petticoats. THE FEMALE BOOK. -7 Drawn to the altar with a wond'ring heart, While passion blows upon the stem of art. See mushroom princes pluck'd at, as they shoot,205 Yet for her vigour prove too firm at root ; — ('Tvvas not a Roman matron's high-born pride, No Roman virgin would be thus allied ;) See her the puppet's humbling scorn repair, And find a nobler match in R l's heir. 210 Thus o'er the realm her soaring kindred spreads, And her fair offspring mount the loftiest beds ; Ambition bends him from his air-built shrine, His vot'ry cheers, and hails her half divine ! L— M— P ; D— of R— ; M— C— ; D— of M— ; D— of B— . Say not my epic quill o'erflows with gall, 215 Or spirts around a venom'd juice on all ; Line 203.] In the days of Republican Rome the daughter of a Patrician family would have scorned to match with the highest foreign king, and still more with a prince of Corsica ! Rome had fallen to the dust D 2 -8 KPICS OF TIJE TO.V : Eager to praise, where praise can be allow'd, I haste to snatch black cygnets from the crowd. From vale, from garden, where the lily grows, O bring its sweets, my muse, and join the rose ; 920 The loveliest wreathe around their temples bind, And hold them forth a pattern to their kind. Through in the giddy rounds of fashion bred, Thiough all its follies by example led ; With every beauty which the bosom warms, 225 With every talent which the fancy charms ; Though from the cradle to the altar blest, Admir'd and follow'd, flatter'd and carest ; Yet them no reigning folly e'er has claim'd, No rampant vice amidst her vot'ries named ; 230 No tongue, in this licentious age, has shed Its pois'ning slander round their marriage bed : But meekly shrinking from the public gaze, They court alone the modest matron's praise; before even ancient royalty could tempt her high-born daughters into the arms of a barbarian. Line 2X8;] Rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno. Juvenal. THE FEMALE BOOK. 29 And placed in scenes of glare, of noise, and strife,235 Seek for no fame that misbecomes a wife. In vain the very mother's sought in these, One half retrench'd, and t'other purged of lees : So have I seen a mountain torrent pour With troubled waters, and with angry roar ; 240 Through noisy cat'racts tumble down amain, And rush with threat'ning billows on the plain ; But there arrived, its blust'ring waves divide, And o'er the mead, in gentlest riv'lets glide, Upon whose verdant banks sweet violets grow, 245 And on their surface water-lilies blow ; Soothed by their gentle murmurs, shepherds dream, Or love to sip from their pellucid stream. Line 248.] The reader will observe that the author, with infinite good nature, and an anxious wish to give unmingled praise, has here said nothing of the scandalous reports of C 4*^ — — d Row, the prodigious sum lost in one night, the wrath of his G e, the intended sale of plate, equipage, &c. &c. ; with several other little matters among the gossips. But let it be remembered, that as deserved praise is the choicest meed of virtue, so unqualified applause, where censure is due, becomes the most bitter satire. D 3 30 EPICS OF THE TON : From thy fair stem, what tempting fruits have grown, Like thee, to every gazing trav'ler known ! 250 In fashion's hot-bed mellow'd into prime, One lovely peach has dropt before its time ; Yet still its sister fruits, from golden stalks, Their fragrance scatter o'er the courtly walks ; While with sweet smiles that might inflame a stone, The d — h — ss kindly warms her apple-John. 256 O happy mother ! once a blessed wife ! O cheery widow in the vale of life ! Some card for fashion, and some dice for fame, But wiser he who mingled wit with game ; 260 E'en kept the table, pander'd to the fun, And turn'd the penny, whoso lost or won. Hence his full coffers pond'rous guineas strain ; Hence his bright honours flourish'd with his gain ; Hence stands his name inscrib'd mid courtly gods, For teaching English nobles Capuan modes ; 266 Line 266.] A description of the Neapolitan nobles, THE FEMALE EOOK. Hence shine his daughters in the foremost place, For who outvies my Lady, or her Grace ? which will no doubt be very edifying to our imitating higher ranks, I shall extract from the celebrated Kotze- bue, who, two years ago, visited them : " The higher classes of Naples are the savages of Europe. They eat, drink, sleep, and game. They neither have nor want any occupation but this last. The states of Europe are overthrown ; they game not the less. Pompeii comes forth from his grave ; still they game. The earth shakes ; Vesuvius vomits forth flames ; yet the gaming- table is not forsaken. The splendid ruins of Paestum, a few miles distant, so glorious a spectacle, are disco- vered only by strangers ; for the Neapolitans are gaming. The greatest dukes and princes are keepers of gaming- tables. A Prince Rufando, one of the most considerable noblemen of the country, keeps the first gaming-house in Naples ; and besides his, there are twenty others of the same description. Thither all the great world are seen driving at the approach of evening. Strangers must be presented by some acquaintance ; yet this is only a form. The stranger makes a slight inclination to the host, who as slightly returns it : but it is a rule that not a word is uttered. In other respects it is like being at a coffee-house, or worse than a coffee-house, for there one can have what he chuses for money ; but here are no refreshments, except perhaps a glass of water, after EPICS OF THE TON : Hence his gay widcw in her chariot wheels, And counts six tall stout footmen at her heels ; 270 having ordered it ten times of the servant. A large but ill furnished drawing room is the rendezvous of rouge et noir and faro. A pile of chairs heaped up in a corner of the room proves that a numerous company is ex- pected. Scarcely have the gaudy throng rushed in, when they seat themselves, with greedy eyes fixed on the heaps of gold which glitter on the table. These meetings are called conversaziones, but no one here must attempt to converse. We hardly dare whisper a single word : if any thing more is attempted, an universal hiss commands deep silence and attention to the myste- ries of the game. Old women, particularly, sit either gathering up money with their long bony fingers ; or with their green out-stretched eyes fixed on the rouge et noir table, lamenting the capricious decrees of fortune. Even handsome young women here degrade the dignity of their sex, setting beauty and the graces at defiance. The princess N., for example, is a professed gamester. Many others come to make new conquests, or to secure the old ; in both which businesses they lay no restraint upon themselves. A stranger is at the first look ap- prized of each lady's favourite. The husbands are ei- ther absent, or concern themselves not the least about the women ; for of the execrated Italian jealousy here is not a single vestige. Even divines and children game ; THE FEMALE BOOK. 33 Glad to behold her offspring like herself, As gay, as painted, and as full of pelf; Still hovering round her former fields of fame, The ball, the masque, the concert, and the game: — So ghosts their former scenes of pleasure haunt, 275 With eye deep-hollow'd, and with aspect gaunt ; Intrude on human sight at close of day, And fright the younglings at their moonlight play. Go finish out thy course as it began, Nor break at sixty thy consistent plan : 260 For thy keen brows the muse shall holly bring, To suit the verdure of thy latter spring. D of S— A — : Haste, clear the pavement, call the crowd to stare! Her swan -leg'd footmen, and bright lacquer'd chair, And hoop to nose, proclaim S — A there ! 285 for example, the daughter of the Marquis Berio, who is not more than eight years old. The Marquis is one of the most enlightened noblemen. Some maintain that this degrading traffic brings the Prince Rufando five thousand ducats a year. Others say that he receives not more than twelve ducats a day for converting his palace into a gaming-house !" 34 EPICS OF THE TON : Say who shall more adorn the courtly scene ? / Or turn aside more gazers from the queen ? More through the rooms the general buz create, Or more confound the gapers at the gate ? More catch the town, or in the Post next day 29O Engross more lines, more wond'rous things display ? Nor be her glories to the world unknown, These brilliant charms are fairly all her own : She has poor nature veil'd with skilful art, Thrown rich amendments o'er each faulty part; 295 And colours not vouchsafed the human face Cull'd from the shrub, the mine, and strow'd with grace, So nicely touch'd her frame from top to bottom, And all her charms so alter'd since she got 'em, Line 284.] Every one must be convinced of the propriety of this metaphorical allusion to the legs of swans, unless indeed that these bipeds have not yellow clocks to their black silk hose. Line 2Q1.] The attractions of a newspaper containing the court dresses, both to those who have been, and those who have not been to this scene, are indescribable. A beau might win his mistress by being the first, next THE FEMALE BOOK. 35 That with the knowing, tis an even bet, 300 If she or nature's most in other's debt. Dii— of D Such moons may shine, when thy bright sun is down, O born to grace the vale, and gild the town ! On Chiswick's banks, a flower that woos the sight, In London's throngs, a dazzling blaze of light. 305 No servile rhymester now begins the lay, And sings, like Tom, for favour, or for pay ; No rich rewards come glitt'ring from the tomb, No gaping flatt'rers seek to pierce its gloom. morning, to bring her this epitome of every thing charming. Line 309.] It is rather mortifying to the love of posthumous fame, to observe how much more a person of great celebrity in the fashionable world is greeted with complimentary poems while alive than by elegies after death. A Nelson, whose praises every one is for a season ready to hear ; or a Pitt, who has left behind him a party that may yet be in power, is indeed more fortunate, and bespattered with nauseous applauses in many thousand hobbling couplets. But the unhappy 38 EPICS OF THE TON, Hadst thou still bask'd the wing in fashion's beam, The muse had flapp'd thee in thy golden dream ; 3 1 1 Or sung a second to some yelping cur, And raked for gold, perhaps, the dirt of S — r ; fashionables, when laid in the dust, are seldom c of producing more than a single Delia Crusca sonnet in a newspaper. For the benefit and warning of my read- ers of this class, it may not be unseasonable to mention an anecdote of the Earl of Shrewsburj , a famous courtier in the days of Queen Elizabeth. He had, in. his life-time, erected his own tomb, and caused a long inscription, containing a summary of all his transactions, to be engraved upon it ; omitting only the date of his death, which it was impossible for him to divine. So well did this courtier understand mankind, that he fore- told his heirs would neglect to make even this small ad- dition to the inscription : and so it happened ; for the space which should contain the date of his death remains a blank to this day ! Line 313.] A report was industriously circulated that this mawkish piece of would-be scandal had actually' killed the illustrious personage it attempted to expose. Surely her thread of life must have been reduced to a single hair, if the flap of this moth's wing could snap it asunder ! But the report had the desired effect ; and several editions of this apology for a novel, were sold off on the strength of an imaginary lady-slaughter ■ THE FEMALE BOOK. 37 Or wept that virtues, form'd to bless mankind. Should lose the kernel, and retain the rind ; 315 That a heart, warm with charity and love, A prey to sycophants and knaves should prove ; That nature's softest feelings should be lost, Amidst the waves of whirling folly tost ; Keen though they were to sorrow or delight, 320 And sweetly warbled from the Alpine height : That talents dear to genius, mark'd for fame, Should still be wasted at the midnight game ; Or rack'd, next day, to find some new supply, And bilk a tradesman w^ith a shew to buy : 325 Line 321.] Re-echoed from the harp of Delille, those strains have rendered the genius of their author not less known and admired on the Continent than at home. Line 525.] How indispensable are laws ! what a poor security would mankind derive either from genero- sity, or from shame, if the authority of the magistrate did not come in aid of these uncertain restraints ! How strongly is this evinced by the example of those orders who, in various countries, are privileged to cheat their creditors, without being subject either to have their estates seized or their persons imprisoned ! One should imagine that the proud feelings of birth, the dread of E EPICS OF THE TON : That she, of softness, past her sex possest, Felt the mad passions of the gamester's breast ; staining a title derived from illustrious ancestors, the consciousness of being so prominently placed in the eye of mankind, would prevent a noble from acting the part of a mean, .paltry, sordid, knave. Yet what is more common than to see a titled swindler pledge his faith and his honour for the payment of debts, which it has never entered his thoughts to discharge. The in- dustrious tradesman is robbed of his property and ruined ; while his plunderer, secure in the privileges of a peer, laughs at the misfortune, continues his course of swindling, revels in the most expensive debauchery, and transmits his estate unimpaired to his posterity. For the sake of justice, for the sake of their own honour, the worthier part of the peerage ought loudly to demand the abolition of this privilege. To the honourable it is useless ; it is worse than useless, for it enables knaves to bring on their order unmerited disgrace. While I thus address the peers, it may not be amiss just to hint to the peeresses, that it is inconsistent with common honesty to give in exchange, for valuable goods, their note of hand, which they know to be not worth a farthing. It is quite as bad as passing a bit of waste paper for a bank-note. Still more disgraceful and wor- thy of Botany Bay it is, to purchase goods of an honest tradesman, and carry them, unpaid for, to the auc- THE FEMALE BOOK. 39 Or urged by faction midst the rabble tribe, Should kiss a greasy butcher with a bribe ; Unskill'd, discretion with her warmth to blend, 330 Nor lose herself through zeal to serve a friend. But, censure, hush ! a sacred silence keep ; Let Loves alone and Graces come to weep ; Let tears sincere her human frailties mourn, Nor flatt'ring lies hold up her tomb to scorn ; 335 When envy long is dead, and passion calm. Her own soft lines shall best her name embalm. M of S^^f Muse can'st thou ride, can'st gallop o'er the plain, And leap a five-barr'd gate, and head the train ? tioneer, to procure a sum for the discharge of a gambling debt ! Line 329.] It was certainly an ingenious device to heighten the value of a guinea, to place it between the ruby lips of a lady of high fashion, and thus let it drop, in the act of kissing, into the liquorish mouth of the chuckling voter. The gentlemen of Newport-market like it hugely ; and would not have been without such a kiss for twenty guineas. 40 EPICS OF THE TONS Scour as, onbroomstick-hunters, ancient witches,340 And save thy modesty by buckskin breeches ? Or name the pack, and shout the learn'd halloo, And do all else, that jolly huntsmen do ? Then mayst thou come in guise of vig'rous spark, And kiss thy gallant sister in the dark. 345 Or thou may'st turn, these brilliant feats to crown. From hunting hares, to hunt religion down ; - Still hold thy concerts on the sacred eve, And Porteus spurn, and Rowland cause to grieve; Line 349.] It would be injustice to the excellent Bi- shop of London not to take every opportunity of holding up to praise and imitation his zealous efforts to prevent the day appropriated for public worship from being turned into an interval of licentious revels. It is no dis- respect to couple with his name that of a man who may differ from him in some speculative questions, but who deserves to rank even with the bench of bishops for deeds of charity and indefatigable benevolence. The abuse here alluded to, the profanation of the sabbath, is a favourable pastime among our higher orders. I can forgive a laborious mechanic, or a sickly shop-keeper, who has all the week long been imprisoned in a confined alley, and compelled to breathe unwholesome air — I can forgive him for making an excursion to the country THE FEMALE BOOK. 4 1 While hundred chariots, rattling round the square, Alarm the choir, and drown the evening prayer; 351 And big Squallante's notes to soar begin, While drabs without list demireps within. C of B . Yet quit the chace, my muse, however hot ; Poor Laura's fate ! it must not be forgot ! 355 on Sunday, or enjoying with his friends the recreation of a tea-garden. But when I see persons whose every day is a day of leisure, who seem born only to enjoy the blessings of their Creator, refuse to devote to his public service the day which the laws have appointed for it ; and even ambitiously endeavour to bring contempt on the institution, by rendering it the particular season of their revels — I feel indignant that such wanton irre- ligion should be suffered to pollute the morals of a na- tion. When I see such practices prevalent among the higher orders of society, I cannot help recollecting with a sigh, that the unfortunate Antoinette of France began, by a studied profanation of the day of worship, that career which she ended on a scaffold. Long may that conspicuous reverence for religious institutions, which their majesties have ever manifested, avert such calami-, ties from our land ! 42 EPICS OF THE TON I Unhappy Laura ! Why that heart-broke sigh ? And why that piteous roving of thine eye ? Why bear'st thou still that care-worn look of woes Which ever seek, but never find repose ? Hast thou not wealth to tempt the gazing crowd ? 360 Hast thou not titles to allure the proud ? A feeling heart for others' woes to grieve, An open hand their miseries to relieve ? — Yet dost thou seem as if the world were glad, And thou of all thy human kindred, sad. 365 Crowds, noise, and pomp, but barb the mental ail, She seeks relief in the sequester'd vale : Where Scotland's giant mountains threat the skies, And half impending o'er the trav'ller rise ; Where gullies deep are fill'd with torrents black,370 Still thund'ring down the endless cataract ; Where sombre firs, amid the summer green, A gloomy aspect shed o'er all the scene ; Where rocks, asunder rent by Nature's throes, Their horrid shelves in frequent gaps disclose ; 375 Where to the jutting herb, on crag too high, The haggart goat uplifts the rueful eye ; - THE FEMALE BOOK. 43 There where the plover's ever dreary lay, Still breaks the cheerless silence of the day, Poor Laura sat beneath the stunted tree, 380 Unwilling to be seen, and sad to see ; The scene was dismal, and o'ercast the day, Yet was her heart more doleful still than they. O fortune, where is now thy envied bliss ? O flaunting titles, are your joys like this ? 385 Sorrows there are which riches cannot sooth, Nor rank allay, nor tender friendship smooth j Which wring the heart through every secret hour. And "midst the busy haunt its peace devour ; Which only fly when life and joy are flown, 390 Which only rest beneath the silent stone ; There shall her sorrows cease, her cares be o'er, Who adds to misery's list one Laura more. of M- I love to find a woman that can spend An evening chearful with a single friend ; 305 E'en by herself, not quite her soul devour, And half a day work pleased on half a flower ; 44 EPICS OF THE TON: Nor from her books have every hour to spare, Nor, mad for knowledge, to Count's Lounge repair ; That haunt where ladies catch new themes for tattle, And learned grow by S — dn — y's pretty prattle, 401 Or, with the rage of science deeply bit, Hear D^vy oxydate poor S^-dn — y's wit ; Line 39£).] So called from the title of its founder, and from the uses to which it is applied. LineAOl."] This gentleman had the unrivalled merit of reducing Moral Philosophy to the level of a fashion- able audience, and of converting metaphysics into capi- tal fun. For some time nothing was talked of at the west end of the town but his witty sayings j and had not a rich living, the just reward of his merits, stopt his mouth, he might in time have borne away the palm from Joe Miller. It is certainly a very happy faculty to have the power of being facetious on all occasions j and of witticizing, with equal felicity, while lecturing on the doctrines of Reid, or reviewing a volume of sermons. Line 403.] The boldness of the attempt was not equalled by its success. Chemistry, it would appear, is not so promising a subject for humour as metaphysics ; and it is not every one that is born a wit. It is not every day that Astley can pick up a Grimaldi, or Harris a Munden, or B- rn d a S— 'S— — . THE FEMALE BOOK. 4 5 The flaws of science with a fiddle botch, And haste from chemistry to Dr. Cr-G-teh ; 405 Or self- applauding puffs both hear and see, Where dun-skin'd oils from water-colours flee; And still to aid the lecture tame and vague, Th' example comes, and shouts " 'twas done by C-g!" O give him setters fee'd for half a crown, 410 To catch him rich admirers o'er the town ! Line 405.] An experimental lecture on music cer- tainly forms a very delicate accompaniment for experimen- tal lectures on metaphysics and chemistry. Dibdin, at his Sans Souci, in Leicester Square, first introduced the fashion of spouting, playing, reciting, strutting, de- monstrating, diverting — all in a breath ; and it would have been strange indeed if the proprietors of the Rev< And to the sex unfold superior man ? On table spread, with weapon anatomic, Ript up from head to foot, from back to stomach, How many a secret would the scene disclose ! 466 How many a cause whence vast effects arose ! Of moral science are the sex devoid ? No — here their thoughts are grand, their knowledge wide ; They know th* attractive, the repulsive force, 470 Which through all naturehold their sov'reign course; Which wed the acid with the alkali, And make the magnet now embrace, now fly ; Which spring the mushroom, and which grow the man, The appearance varied with the varied plan. 475 Line 467. .] It is to me inexplicable why the proprie- tors of the R flV Kft^-n, have omitted to introduce a course of anatomical lectures for the fair sex. It would certainly be productive of far more entertainment than either moral philosophy or botany, and would attract much larger audiences. THE FEMALE BOOK. 53 Moved by these powers men long to eat and drink, And learn at length that strange odd thing to think ; The air in eddies, words yclep'd, propel, And now good subjects make, and now rebel. Do these strong powers the bosom kindly move ?4SO All reason thaws, all melts the heart to love. Act they in concert ? Virtue joys our eyes : But do they quarrel ? The result is vice. While these inform our organized pipe- clay, And in our bosoms hold their genial play, 485 Then are we said to live : but should they fly, And quit their vibrating disport, we die. For life and death, vice, virtue, conscience, reason, These forces make, and end them all in season. The dreams which fools indite of Heaven and Hell, The curse of crimes and bliss of doing well j 4QI Of Gods and Devils, fables of old women, Are made to suit such bedlamites as Boehmen. Repelled, attracted, still we live : and when This motion ceases, we are clods again. 4g5 Line 405.] My learned readers are not unacquainted with the fashionable modern theory that all the phen<5= F 3 54 EPICS OF THE TON : Go on ye fair ! your learned course pursue, And do as nature's impulse bids ye do ; May fate your labours crown, make famed your life : Nay, make you any thing — if not my wife. M±—-— of A • What joys of wine make th' art'ry throb so high, As rapture trembling in the female eye? 501 What ills so deep the manly bosom move, As woman's anguish mix'd with tears of love ? On the bleak beach before the gazing crowd, To hear these piercing plaints, these shrieks so loud ; mena of being, all the actions and motions both of body and soul, result entirely from various modifications of chemical attractions and repulsions, acting on inert matter. This is a charming theory ; for besides that it fully accounts for every thing, it fairly gets rid of all those foolish notions of future responsibility, heaven, hell, and so forth, which have so long annoyed the ima- ginations of men, and converted many a delicious attrac- tion and repulsion into horrible sins. Line 504.] This tender scene took place some years ago, on the pier at Ramsgate, during the embarkation of our troops for the continent. THE FEMALE BOOK. 55 To see that bosom, white as bolted snow, 506 Heave, as 'twould burst, by swelling pangs below, O'er that fine brow the dews of death to trace, While all his lurid hues o'erspread that face; To see those polished limbs convulsive start 510 Till fainting nature fails to do her part ; To know that all these agonizing woes Are barb'd by feeling, and from love arose; — Who would not weep her tears, and sigh her moan, And wish her tender sorrows half his own ? 6 15 Yet stay These tears no mother's love bespeak, And for no husband seems that heart to break ; No early friends' mishap, or parents' ill, These limbs convulse, that face with anguish fill : Her babes, her husband, could that tender dame Unmoved abandon for a wanton flame ; 521 Could pant with rapture in th' adulterer's arms, And feed the guilty riot with her charms. Line 506.] " The fanned snow " That's bolted by the northern blast thrice o'er." SlIAKSPEAREi 56 EPICS OF THE TON I Now her gay paramour is call'd to wield Another armour in another field; 525 For amorous stratagems in Venus' wars, To meet Bellona's wrath and bloody scars ; Exchange, for dank morass, the wanton's bed, While hostile glances seek his tempting red : 529 Hence heaves her breast, and hence her colour dies — For now, what lips shall drink her glowing sighs ? What panting breast shall on her bosom pant, Raise each desire, and satiate every want ? Make all her widow'd nights with transport burn, And shame and guilt to rapt fruition turn ? 535 For thee, fond fair, let kindred fair ones feel, Their sorrows mingle, and their joys reveal ; Gloat o'er their pleasures for some passing years, Then waste their harrowing age in penitential tears ! The child that sees another soundly whipt 5 Is near as frightened as if he were stript ; And shuns, lest he a like mischance should feel, To rob the orchard^ or the cheese-cake steal. THE FEMALE BOOK. 57 But our grown children see their fellows stray, And sad correction meet them on their way ; 545 From wealth to penury, fame to scorn descend, Mock'd while they live, unpitied in their end : — Yet unregarded is the warning given, And all unheard the voice, the acts, of Heaven ; New vot'ries still the fatal joys entice, 550 Still gay and thoughtless, folly sports with vice. She, that once held her name, the theme of scorn, Does the thought move the sprightly ? The Abbey, sees it now a calmer day, Its guests less numerous, or its sports less gay ? 555 There is high luxury less profusely quafFd ? Are those who drink less madden'd with the draught? Or the fair hostess less be-paragraph'd ? Line 558.] It is to be apprehended that Cobbet, the political executioner of our age, will put this practice of be-paragrap/iing in the newspapers out of counte- nance, or at least that he will render the encomiastic effu- sions insufferably tame and spiritless. His comments on two famous dinners, the one given in honour of an actress, the other given by a company of actors in ho- nour of their manager, have done much to shake the nerves of more than one candidate for fashionable fame. 5 S EPICS OF THE TON : No '.—Scenes more costly now enchant the hall, At midnight concert, or at morning ball ; 560 A Thespian temple here, bedizen'd o'er, Now oft receives a whole dramatic corps ; Where mushroom warriors learn to strut their hour, And Buonaparte, snug at home, devour ; Line 564.] There is nothing in which the officers of our guards have so remarkably evinced their superiority over the troops of the line, as by their great excellence in enacting of plays. It is astonishing how genteely some of these gentlemen can play the hero ; with what a terrible swagger they shake their foils ; and how man- fully they drive the enemy — behind the scenes. Although they should not be able to prevent Buonaparte's march to London, yet assuredly if he can be prevailed on to go to a private theatre, and see these mighty warriors frown, bellow, stamp, and shake the boards, it cannot fail to frighten him back over the channel. Admirable school for valour ! Excellent plan for raising the dignity of the army ! — But private theatres are not a less admi- rable seminary for female chastity than for male he- roism 5 and therefore we cannot sufficiently applaud those parents who permit their daughters to exhibit their pretty limbs betimes in tempting attitudes, in these pub- lic-private resorts of the loving and languishing. THE FEMALE BOOK. 59 Where high-bred dames, more given to deal in fact, Con o'er betimes what they eftsoons enact ; 566 Where grace and gambol mix a thousand ways, And Kemble spouts in state on holidays ; Where verdant laurels deck the lustrous scene, And quite eclipse the greybeard M g e. 5 70 Go on, fair dame, enjoy thy summer hour, Nor think of snows that chill, or skies that lower ,- Nor to your lord his manlier pleasures grudge, Who now a hunter blows, and now a judge; While monkeys wear a tail, or stags a horn, 575 Thou shalt be talk'd of with thy . H- - When lovely E quitted first her cot, In honest way to seek her future lot ; By frequent curtsey humbly won renown ; And nicely plaiting of her lady's gown ; 5 Even then her rival beaux were seen to vie, The coachman bluster, and the valet sigh. When next, promoted, (near that lofty fane Where stamp the mimic gods of Drury Lane,) »" EPICS OF THE TON : She by a fuming altar stood so dight 585 In gown with sleeves abridged, and apron white ; The fragrant slice dissever'd from the loin, The trencher warm'd, or pour'd the barley-wine j In wedgewood bason dealt the smoking soup, And, trippling, cast a leer upon the groupe; 590 With knowing smile return'd the leer or jest, Nor veil'd her ankle fine, or swelling breast How many a swain in love and luxury wallow'd, Gazed as he chew'd, and gloated as he swallow'd ! Or while his eyes and tongue would play the fool, Forgot his joint, and left his steak to cool ; 5Q6 Would drink in rapture with his nut-brown ale, And count the cost that surely might prevail ! Now, in this temple, once where bucks ne'er fared, And but hard-finger'd tradesmen once repair'd, 600 Lured by the priestess, rhyming templars whine, And players spout, and chuckling brokers dine. Nor wonder man, frail man, was here undone, Where woman's charms were all combined in one : Line 585.] In common discourse, the dresser of a cook's-shop. THE FEMALE BOOK. 61 Here tempting lips with tempting bosom strove, 605 Here polish'd limbs with eyes that wanton rove ; Her body suited to her beauteous face, Each smile was love, each motion was a grace ; Here might the eye an endless banquet steal From what the kindly folds but half conceal ; 610 And with well-suiting soul that scorn'd the prude, (Here prudery was too much for flesh and blood) When sighing, panting, Strephon warmly prest, Her gentle nature made her Strephon blest. Some scenes there are which all unveil'd should lie, Some joys too sacred for the vulgar eye j 6 1 6 These no unhallow'd artist e'er must shew, But those who taste them, those alone must know : The vagrant muse, eves-dropping late at night, Shall ne'er reveal them to the garish light ; 6*0 With wary hand she draws the curtains close, And lovers safely on her faith repose. But say what eye discerning found the gem That well might sparkle in a diadem ? Lute 6*24.] " Thy liberal hand, thy judging eye, " The flower unheeded shall descry ; G 62 EPICS OF THE TON : Brush'd it from rubbish, polish'd and new- set, Whence yet a brighter destiny it met, 626 Lodged in old Virtuoso's cabinet ? Now E 's polish'd limbs, and motions fine, Her mien majestic, and her step divine, Placed in their proper sphere, at court display'd, 630 Make longing nobles haunt the glowing maid ; While the more favour'd sons of blest virtu, Her charms, like mother Eve's embellish'd, view. " Shall raise from earth the latent gem, " To glitter in the diadem !" Gray. Line 627-] Whether this jewel of the first water was sold for a great sum, or given as a present, is not agreed among historians. The latter, however, seems most probable, as it was only among friends. Line 6 l 29.] There is no one to whom these poor un- happy hacknies have been so often applied : " Grace was in all her steps ; heaven in her eye, " In every gesture dignity and love." Line 630.] Mistake not, gentle reader, it was not the antiquated court of Great Britain. Line 633.] " And is, when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most." THE FEMALE BOOK. 63 Here hacknied sculptors strange emotions own, And on this study gaze themselves to stone ; 635 Here sunk-eyed painters check the mounting blood, And catch, with trembling hand, an attitude ; The embellishments here alluded to are such as the fair Eve wore before *he saw the necessity of the fig leaf ; or such as decked the beauteous queen of the foolish Phrygian prince, when he exhibited her to the entranced eyes of Gyges. It is said that the great superiority of the Grecian sculptors and painters in the delineation of the female form, proceeded from their studying the living subject in this most elegant attire; and the vir- tuoso alluded to was too great a lover of the fine arts, not to employ his mistress or his wife thus innocently for their promotion. Line 635.~\ It is curious to observe the effects of habit in blunting the edge of our most unruly propensi- ties. An accoucheur daily approaches the finest women with as much indifference as a grocer's apprentice looks into a hogshead of sugar. It is the same with those meagre-faced sons of the fine arts, who are daily gazing on, and nightly dreaming of the beauties of nature. They study a fine woman, with the same emotion, whe- ther she be formed of flesh or marble ; and it is perhaps an exaggeration to suppose any beauties so luxuriant as to excite in them the emotions of ordinary men. G 2 64 EPICS OF THE TON : Now in some tempting posture view her near, As once she lay to blinking M — sq — r — r 5 Now as a sleeping Venus all confest, 640 While wanton Cupid sports around her breast. Lo ! high in state, and near the sceptre seen, (Fear'd by a court, embosom 'd by a q— — ,) E shews talents far beyond her kind, And, great in fortune, shines more great in mind j State-secrets now she wins by state intrigues, 6iO And enmities conceal'd, and treach'rous leagues ; Knows how to bribe the most unbending wight, And, if she fails by day, succeeds by night j Can sift a counsellor, unlock a king, 650 And lead a captive court in magic string ; Can act the patriot, warn her native state Of lucky seasons, or of threaten'd fate ; By well plann'd hits a double purpose gain, Enact a heroine, and a hero chain. 655 Minds, to bear away, must suit the state they hold, Grave in the church, and in the navy bold ; Keen at Change-alley, vent'rous still at Lloyd's, And most discreet where G — nv — e all bestrides. THE FEMALE BOOK. 65 Thus a soft creature, touch'd by courtly air, 660 Could wield the scourge, and laugh at mute despair ; Let loose hell-furies on a people's head, Nor shrink when fathers, mothers, husbands, bled ; Make the pale hero aid the murd'rous scene, And e'en outdo a scepter'd heroine ; 665 Her private vengeance sate mid public strife, And think it kind to spare her victim's life ! Ah ! what avails, with soul like this, to find Such charms of person with such powers of mind ? Could heaven-born love approach these bloody stains, Could feeling melt where vengeance fires the veins ? Scandal may still reproach the hero's name, 672 Who left his wedded love for thee and shame ; Or modern virtue may deride the charge, And hold a heart, when profligate, is large ; 675 In vain they palliate, needlessly they blame, Such deeds, bright fair, must fix a deathless fame. Her name all gone, departed all her dears, Poor E sinks into the vale of years ; Sometimes, by starts, produced to public view, 680 With crazy G , or obscene old Q ; 66 EPICS OF THE TON : Or, match'd with big Squallante, strains her throat, While sister-sympathies attune the note. Sometimes new-gifted by the public tongue, With titled lover, or with husband young j 685 Yet soon these rumours, like her beauties, fade, And scorn conducts her to the wintry shade ! What picture should we say were drawn to life, A promis'd peeress, and a statesman's wife ? A portly figure, not quite six foot high, 69O Nor 'twixt the shoulders three, yet very nigh ; With full bare bosom that defies the wind, Well-suiting breast-work to the tower behind ' } With open count'nance, that disdains to hide, Eye proudly rolling, and majestic stride ; 6Q5 Limbs such as huntress Dian once did own, With fair round flesh upon no spindle bone : Who scorns to shrink from our inclement air, Arms, ancles, bosom, neck, and shoulders, bare j Whose voice her inward greatness not belies, 7OO Not speaks but thunders, lightens, and defies 5 THE FEMALE BOOK. 6? Who in all scenes supports an equal name, High struts at court, high ventures in the game ;— . Such is the picture, truly drawn to life, A promis'd peeress, and a statesman's wife 5 705 E'en such is she who stoutly holds the rein O'er him whose double strings had burst in twain. L- C&^C-a&diU From Scotia's mountains, heralded by fame, Young, noble, beautiful, Belinda came; Than her's no brighter lineage graced our isle, 710 Her sire the great, the good, the loved A**j* — e ; — (A patriot race, who mid all perils stood, And seal'd their country's freedom with their blood 3 Pluck'd from a recreant prince the diadem, And saved for Brunswick's much-loved race the gem;) Her sire still oped his hospitable door 716 To glad the stranger, and relieve the poor ; Fair rose his palace, nobly spread his lawn, Yet seem'd as much all others' as his own ; Line 707.] One of them, indeed, is knotted again for the present) but most people are of opinion that 'tis a running knot, which will slip at the first pull. 68 EPICS OF THE TON £ In grove or grotto play'd the village train, 720 And every stranger trod the cultured plain ; His happy tenants bore th' unwrinkled brow, And "live for ever !" was the gen'ral vow. Thus nobly sprung, Belinda's charms unfold More than is given to birth, or bought with gold ; The rose and lily blending in her face, 726 And all expression beaming through all grace ; Her peerless figure such as poets feign, When Venus first ascended from the main ; See how her motions vibrate to the heart, 730 See every limb a master-piece of art ! Not Venus self knew more alluring wiles, Or more bewitching, more eternal smiles. No damp, no cloud, o'erhung her opening day, Still witty, wanton, frolicsome, and gay ; 735 The ground she tript seem'd livelier from her tread, The hearts she pierced throb'd sprightlier as they bled. No prudish mopish arts she deign'd to try, Nor grudg'd her beauties to the kindling eye : Still seen where fashion held her trophied court ; Still known the foremost in the throng'd resort #41 THE FEMALE BOOK. 69 No vot'ry sought a smile, and sought in vain ; None praised unheard, unnoticed told his pain ; Averse her bounteous soul to hide a charm Which nature gave so many hearts to warm, 745 Her ling'ring foot, the chariot mounting slow, Displayed the ancle to the circling beau ; The welcom'd eye perused her melting shape, And half forgot the intervening crape. That season past, when, on the natal day, 750 Poor Pye still labours through his annual lay ; Line 74$.] It was rather too liberal to exhibit with such a pellucid fig-leaf in the drawing roomj and how- ever mortifying it must have been for the surrounding youths to be deprived of the spectacle, yet certainly a great personage acted consistently with decorum, in de- siring the naked to be cloathed before appearing in public. line 751.] We read of a wretched poet who was employed by Alexander the Great to sing his praises, on the condition that for every good line he was to receive a hundred pieces of gold, and for every bad one a hun- dred lashes. Tradition says that the poor poet did not long survive the bargain, which proved as bad for him as the sentence of a modern court-martial. Had the same i 70 EPICS OF THE TON : When hoops and farthingales in great distress High bolt upright are seen amidst the press ; Now all, but splay-foot cits from London, strain. To brace their nerves against the next campaign ; The gay Belinda seeks her native shades, 756 And shines the fairest of the Grampian maids. Here joyous summer spreads so bright a hue, The meads so green, the distant hills so blue ; So glassy clear expands the inland lake, 76*0 So rich in varied charms the forests shake ; So chearful Nature gambols o'er the plain, In youth's first bloom, just freed from winter's chain ; — That southern climes may boast their double spring, And fruitage cull'd through every season bring ;7G5 bargain been struck with our Poets Laureate the country would hare saved many an annual hundred pounds. Line 752.] It is inexpressible how much the dignity of the court is supported by retaining these pieces of ancient deformity in dress. Will the nature of real grandeur never be understood } THE FEMALE BOOK. 71 Tame, listless, dull, their changeless scenes appear, Nor know the varied joys of summer here. Here too Belinda, sick, of London toys, Found fresh delights, and brighter-blooming joys : An honest steward, from her sire's domains, 770 With thrifty hand had cull'd no trivial gains ; His thousand pence had swoln to thousand pounds, And rich and ample rose his purchased bounds ; Bright vvheel'd his chariot, fair his mansion stood ; None but a Celt had guess'd his want of blood. 775 A son he had, and thereby hangs a tale, A manlier youth ne'er trod a highland vale; With stately figure and with shoulders broad, That well might ease old Atlas of his load ; His well-made limbs, health, strength, and vigour, braced, 7S0 His open count'nance bloom and courage graced j By youths like these fair ladies hearts are won/ Though dapper elves may squire them through the Ton. Belinda saw him Need the rest be said ? Belinda sigh'd that she was still a maid j 735 7& EPICS OF THE TON : And when the youth, who fear'd to look so high, Perceiv'd, yet durst not read her speaking eye, She felt 'twas folly thus unblest to prove, ; Grow green and yellow, and not tell her love ; The Gordian knot she cut ; and then with pride 790 The wond'ring youth embraced his high-born bride. With him she'd bear the knapsack, scorn the crown, And pleased forsakes the follies of the town. D of R- . As youthful monarchs grace an ancient realm, As sapling vines adorn the ripened elm ; 795 As yearling shoots, in aged trunks new set, Sap from their pith, strength from their vigour get j As slender woodbine, join'd to moss-grown walls, New beauty gives, and fattens as it crawls ; Line 780.] " She never told her love, " But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, " Feed on her damask cheek : She pined in thought,, " And with a green and yellow melancholy, ic She sat, like Patience on a monument, ( ' Smiling at grief*" SlIAKSPEARE-s THE FEMALE BOOK. 73 So ancient widows match'd to youthful spouses, 800 And bringing with them store of lands and houses, New deck the beaux, themselves new deck'd appear, The youth full pockets gets, the dame fresh cheer. No wedded ills their wiser hymens know, To teaze the gamesome belle, the frolic beau — 805 She ne'er shall mourn for splendid fetes declined, Six months deformed, and six weeks more confined ; Line 807 •] To a lady of taste and fashion this is a matrimonial grievance altogether insupportable. What can there be in a silly bantling ; a source of vexation while young, and perhaps a rival when it grows older, to recompence such a vacuity in life, such a separation from every thing delightful, such deformity, such longings ! Matri longa decern tulerunt fastidia menses ! Fortunately that same round of enjoyments, which renders the evil insupportable, also tends powerfully to its prevention. A high-born, high-bred, high-fed lady is rarely troubled with too numerous a brood, "Were she to litter like the wife of a peasant, good heavens ! the thing would be past endurance j and the advertizing quack near Temple Bar would have to strike out an- other private entrance. H 74 EPICS OF THE TON : The mother's dire dilemmas ne'er shall know, Twixt saving shapes, and humouring Rousseau. Line 800.] Most of my readers are not ignorant cdf the violent perturbation which this officious and wild en- thusiast excited, about twenty years ago, among the higher female circles of Paris and London. He was po- pular, he was universally read : his opinions were the guides of the times, the rage of the fashionable world. He seized this opportunity to expose the shameful apathy of mothers, the cruel dereliction of babes. With his glowing pencil he depicted the miseries to which the unhappy infant is abandoned, when delivered over to the care of a hireling nurse. He shewed the absurdity of supposing that a mother, who has strength to bring a child into the world, is not also provided with means and power to afford its natural nourishment. If mothers were deaf to the calls of humanity, and unmoved by the softest appeals of nature, he called upon their self- love not wantonly to throw away that filial tenderness, that delicate plant which they ought to nourish from their breasts, and which would prove the shade, the solace, and the pride of their declining years. To the unnatural dereliction of infants, he traced that total disregard of parental authority, which diffused licentious- ness almost from the cradle, and rendered the ties of parent and child the chain of lasting wretchedness. To these sentiments the name of Rousseau forced at- tention. His reasoning was sound, his eloquence pa- THE FEMALE BOOK. 7 5 She, . sweetly lapt in John's encircling arms, SIO Shall ne'er be waked by bantlings' night alarms ; thetic, his satire poignant and irresistible. Mothers now began to perform, from shame, the duties which they had refused to the voice of nature ; and the Parisian circles of fashion soon saw the miraculous spectacle of young women, lovely, gay, and noble, suckling their own children. Britain in time imitated an example, which her boasted morality ought to have set. The Duchess of Devonshire, who, with many human fail- ings, possessed a warmth of heart, and a vigour of mind rarely found in her sex, and still more rarely in her rank, led the way in this honourable reformation ; and shewed that the duties of a mother could be performed without disgrace, and that the life and happiness of a child were to be purchased even with a temporary derangement of the bosom. Unfortunate Rousseau ! Let not this verdant wreathe be scattered from thy tomb. Thy failings were many, thy errors not a few : yet thy frailties may be palliated by thy education and thy distresses ; and even over thy vices a veil may be thrown by the most cruel malady in- cident to human nature. Thy vhtues ought not to perish, nor thy services to mankind be forgotten. Let those moralists who would hoot thee from society, lay their hands on their hearts, and say what social benefit they have conferred equal to that now related. It was H 2 76 EPICS OF THE TON : Nor daily forced maternity to feign, And all her feelings 'fore each guest to strain. She ne'er, sequester'd from the courtly throng, Shall meditate her schemes the woods among, 815 With what old trunk her blooming grafts to join, With manor vast, and much be-quarter'd line ; a vice which seemed incurable : a vice the mother of a thousand vices — Hac fonte derivata clades In patriam populumque fluxit. Line 812.] This is another terrible piece of constraint under which the effects of Rousseau's doctrines have laid fashionable mothers. It is not enough that they suckle their infants : they must also have them near them, caress them, amuse them, shew an interest in their welfare. To render this drudgery more sup- portable, ingenious mothers have thought of employing the occasion as no bad opportunity to make a display of feeling. The children are accordingly produced before all guests ; the fond mother is seen hanging round their necks, dropping tears into their little bosoms, casting her eyes to Heaven, giving thanks for these dear pledges, and for a heart that can feel the blessing ! This new fashion has a new name : it is called maternity ; and is at present accounted one of the prettiest modes in which a lady of the Ton can display her sensibility. THE FEMALE BOOK. 77 Oft ponder o'er the wily, vent'rous plan, To hide her purpose, and entrap the man ; How from seclusion her ripe fruits to draw, S20 And burst upon the town with most eclat ; Line 82 i .] The following description includes the most improved plan of procedure for a woman of fashion who has a daughter. The plague of having her conti- nually in the way, from the time she quits the nurse's arms, till she can be produced in form to the world, is beyond all patience, if one is placed in the region of life, and new pleasures every moment press to be en- joyed. Besides, the creature, if at home, must often be seen by visitors in this interval : her face becomes familiar to every one, and she is quite stale before she is introduced, or published, as it is termed. Her debut at- tracts no attention : it is but as an old play revived. 'Tis a miracle if the thing takes ; and if she does not hang on one's hands for five or ten years to come. Quite as bad is it to send her to a boarding-school : the aukward ignorant baby returns at sixteen, Mrs. Chapone in her head, and her feet a la d'Egvillej the oddest compound ever huddled together ; and no more fit for a drawing-room than a donkey for Rotten-row. Be- fore such an animal knows how to manage her eyes and fingers, her freshness is quite gone, and all the world after a new phenomenon. In this dilemma, it was a gallant thought of the Marchioness to let her town-house H 3 78 EPICS OF THE TON : How, quaintly turn'd, the paragraph to frame. Just hint the talk, and half produce the name ; for a term of years, immure herself resolutely in the old castle ; undertake, with the aid of a Parisian governess, to mould her growing daughter into something human j give her a glance of every accomplishment ; and teach her to play them off to the best advantage: then, the necessary period of her durance expired, cause her house to be repaired, and new furnished, have her preparations for return blazoned abroad, and then re-appear in the world like a comet from the outskirts of its orbit. The scheme succeeded to her wish ; the beautiful Maria cap- tivated all men, and was carried off in three weeks by one of the first peers of the realm. Nor did the Mar- chioness lose by her long captivity : her face had all the charms of novelty as well as her daughter's ; and the old Marquis having died during her recess, she soon tasted the sweets of a new honey-moon. Her example has since been the guide among women of spirit, as may be yearly seen in the columns of our fashionable news- papers. Line 822.] This is a circumstance which ought to be carefully attended to ; as few things are of so much importance as the announcing paragraphs. They should be inserted in the Post or Herald at some of those fortunate intervals of public attention, when there is nothing so singular as to be talked of by every one. THE PEMALE BOOK. 79 Ward off, with pious care, and eye so wary, The lacquey, captain, gard'ner, 'pothecary ; 825 The following form of a paragraph for announcing the re-appearance has met with approbation : " It is with infinite satisfaction that the fashionable world have learnt the arrival of Lady D with her lovely daughter. No one had forgot the shining figure which her ladyship made, when she yielded to the feel- ings of maternal tenderness, and sacrificed all the joys of splendour and admiration, to devote herself to the education of the beautiful Louisa. That delicious blossom is now matured ; and the fruit is as rich as it is delicate. Nor are the merits of Lady D without reward. Besides the inexpressible pleasure of seeing her daughter all-accomplished, the fresh air and tranquil pleasures of the country have given a tint to her com- plexion, and a lustre to her eyes, as captivating as they are uncommon. We do not wonder that such a crowd of expecting youths attended at the door to see the lovely pair alight." The following paragraph, announcing an intended union, appeared lately in the papers, and is certainly a model : " Whatever our contemporaries may have said, we can, from the best authority, contradict the reported union of the Earl of and Lady D 's beautiful daughter. Such indeed is the enchantment of that be- EPICS OF THE TON J Till, to a spouse consign'd her troublous charge, At length the weary guardian's set at large. — witching creature, that we do not wonder his lordship should have adventured., among so many others, for the golden fruit. She, however still * smiles to all, favours to none extends' — yet we could name a noble and gal- lant marquis who has caught some glances which so many would have died to gain. Should his success be as marked at the bonny duchess's grand party of fashion- ables, where the charming pair will this evening meet, he will cause many a noble swain to wear the willow." Line S25.] Instances have lately occurred in which persons of all these descriptions have carried off Right Honourable fair ones in triumph. Nor ought this to excite our surprise. That education which teaches the young mind to regard external shew and splendour as the supreme good, and the arts of catching a man of rank and wealth as the only useful acquirements, imparts no real dignity to the character. The female becomes de- graded in her own estimation, and is conscious of no meanness where appearances can be saved. But the heart will have its longings as well as the eye ; and where a fine coat, and a fine fellow, are fairly balanced against each other, it is ten to one if opportunity does not turn the scale. An education which should inspire religious and moral principles, and impart real dignity to THE FEMALE BOOK. bl To him, the pressing claims of custom's duns, A snug provision for the younger sons^ A tempting dower to gain the daughters love, 830 Shall ne'er the stud displace, or game reprove. He ne'er with body curv'd, and cap in hand, Before the Premier's strutting form shall stand j Recount his members, and his votes recall, And represent his boys are now grown tall ; 835 Beg him his fortune's gaping wounds to heal, And fix his leeches on the common weal. the mind, would be a surer guardian of female virtue, than the watchful dragon of the Hesperian gardens. Line 837.] I have often wondered at the absurdity of those persons who call out for an abolition of sinecure places and pensions, and represent them as useless in- cumbrances. Useless ! In the name of common sense, if these were abolished, how is it possible that the younger branches of our noble families should be de- cently provided for ? It is impossible for the most wealthy nobleman to provide for a number of sons and daughters, without impoverishing the family fortunes, without wounding the aristocracy to the quick, without endangering a lamentable decay of the most flourishing branch of our glorious constitution. But by means of 82 EPICS OF THE TON *. On one long level road of bliss unbroke, This joyous team shall draw the silken yoke ; The same delights which bound them first together, Shall still remain untouch'd by time or weather ;841 While bloom her fields, her dividends are paid, Her yearly board with large rack-rents are spread, While to his purse a full supply is brought He gets whate'er he seeks, whate'er he sought; 845 And while in equal plenty shines her gold, What is't to him although she grows more old ? Nor are her joys with liberty eloped ; She shines one winter more than once she hoped ; a large supply of pensions, and of places befitting the habits of a nobleman, these evils are averted. The peer is enabled to expend his whole income in maintain* ing his splendour ; he transmits his estates unimpaired to the heir of his honours ; and the nobility are pre- served in their ancient predominancy over the rest of the community. To procure such transcendant advantages, is it not proper that a large portion of our taxes should go to maintain the younger branches of noble houses ? Is it not expedient that, to use the energetic language of Mr. Fox, " the lower classes of the society should be driven from the parlour to the garret, and from the garret to the cellar ?" THE FEMALE BOOK. 83 The fashion leads ; from scandal's shafts exempt, Still bears the honour of the power to tempt ; S51 And sure till all her wishing days are past, Her Strephon's charms, and vig'rous port shall last. In ancient Troy, a town well known to fame, A hero liv'd, Sir Pandarus his name, 855 'Twas his, when warriors loosed the chariot team, Or courtly dames threw by their wool to dream, — Line 855.] So called by Shakspeare. Line 856.] In the times of the Trojan war, as Homer informs us, all the great warriors went to battle in chariots, and generally acted both as postillions and grooms to themselves. It is probably in imitation of this ancient and renowned custom, that our modern he- roes are so frequently found mounted on the coach-box in the appropriate dress, and intermingled with their undistinguishable lacquies in the stable. Line 857.] The ladies of the same age were em- ployed chiefly in preparing .woollen stuffs for the men j and, strange to tell ! the fair ones of Priam's court were uncommonly notable wool-combers, spinsters, weavers, 84 EPICS OF THE TON I To read the wishful look, the longing eye, And whisper soft of blest occasions nigh, Of mutual flames, of interviews conceal'd, 860 And dear delights to Nox alone reveal'd. 'Twas his through lanes untrod, and alleys dark, At noon of night to lead th' advent'rous spark, Where in disguised attire, unseen convey 'd, All-tuned to rapture glowed the panting maid. 865 and tailors. It appears, however, that Cupid was no- wise deterred by a distaff: but as there were, in that age, no routs, balls, gaming-tables, operas, masque- rades, at which one could meet another, the good offices of such kind-hearted gentlemen as Sir Pandarus must have been of uncommon utility. Line 86*1.] It is pleasing to see traces of the rites of ancient times still preserved. The goddess Nox was, in days of old, peculiarly favourable to all the votaries of pleasure and freedom, and was hence the particular ob- ject of their admiration. In our days, such is the grati- tude of the whole world of fashion, as well as of sharp- ers, that they scarcely perform any of their mysteries unless under her influence. Line 863.] " The moon " Riding near her highest noon." Milton, THE FEMALE BOOK. Sj If deathless laurel round his temples shines, Such wreathes as Cyprus rears, and Shakspeare twines ; While warriors vast like nameless donkies rot, And Troy itself is sought where Troy was not : — • Though midst a colder race, and colder clime, 870 Where frost-bit pleasure scarce e'er gained its prime, O ! ne'er the genial dome forgotten be, Where love unbinds the zone, and revels free ; Where, from hot suppers, titled dames repair, Nor all-work hacknies seek, or curtain'd chair ; 875 Line 86*7.] See the play of Troilus and Cressida, in which the feats of Pandarus are held forth to the admi- ration and imitation of all posterity. Line 86*9.] Vide the researches of Mr. Gell, &c. &c. Line 875.] It may here be necessary to remark that ladies, once admitted into the circles of fashion, and who afterwards so far save appearances as to live on cer- tain terms with their husbands, and to avoid a prosecu- tion in a court of law, may be, and are, visited freely, and without any danger of scandal. This consideration ought to be most seriously weighed by all females of dis- tinction. They have ample latitude allowed them by I 86 EPICS OF THE TON : All loose to joy in nature's charms confest, Unheard embracing, and unseen embraced j Nor dreading ought that not with love accords, The lash of sland'ring tongues, or jealous lords. Here, under cover, billet doux convey'd 880, Nor fear the careless page, or prying maid ; Through hands well-skill'd the assignations speed, Fresh blooming heirs to barren beds succeed, And gentle maids from leading apes are freed. Sage sophs of old have labour'd to attain 885 The happiest point of mingling joy with gain : A vain pursuit for dolts like them to think of, Whoscarce felt pleasure oft'ner than the chin-cough : our generous customs; and surely it cannot require much skill, in the present state of things, to avoid being found out. In former times, unsuspected hack- ney-coaches, and close chairs were resorted to as the means of concealment : Now the affair is much more securely managed under the protection of a privileged name. Line 886 ] i* Omne tulit punctual, qui miscuit utile dulci." Horace. THE FEMALE BOOK. 87 A wiser Pandara of modern time, As scandal tells, made bliss with profit chime ; 890 Here set the dice, enkindled there the flame, And still, from mantling pleasure, cull'd the game. Does fortune smile, and does she win the bet ? The happy lover hastes to pay the debt : Does fortune frown ? No avarice Cupid knows — His claim the joyful paramour foregoes. S96 Thus, never losing, still the hostess wins, And plenteous guineas spring from teeming sins. of D- Though sweet its odours, and though bright its hues, By kindly suns matured, and summer dews, 900 How many a flower puts forth the bloom, and dies, Unknown to fost'ring hands, or wond'ring eyes ! How many a virgin, like the desert flower Condemned to distant vale, and silent hour, All unregarded, wastes her blooming prime, 0,05 All unregarded, yields her charms to time ! I 2 88 EPICS OP THE TON : Though never cheek disclosed a softer die, Though never beam'd a more alluring eye, Though never bosom with more am'rous swell, Inflamed the gay, or made the saint rebel ; 910 These all in vain benignant nature rears, An Ex'ter comes not in a hundred years. No eye to read, no scene to shew her charms, Some clown receives her in his callous arms; Her humble office, 'mid neglected shades, 915 To tend her younglings, ply domestic trades, To keep the keys, and scold the loit'ring maids. But happy she, by brighter stars design'd, To shine in public and attract mankind ; Line 912.] This nobleman, as report says, deter- mining to procure a woman, whose heart dissipation had not debauched, and who should love him entirely for his own personal merits, disguised himself like a peasant, and in this attire betook himself to the labours of husbandry in a distant part of the country. Here, by happy chance, he met with the object which he sought 5 and in his blooming bride found innocence without affectation, love without avarice or ambition, and beauty fresh from the hands of nature. THE FEMALE BOOK. 89 And all her charms to all advantage seen, 920 Now smile the goddess, and now step the queen ! Ne'er from her lips, the accents, faltring, slow, Like miss from boarding school's ungraceful flow ; Full, free, matured, the notes sonorous rise, And plaudits loud are mix'd with silent sighs. 925 Cast in the shade, by other objects crost, No motion fine, or witching leer is lost ; Caught by a thousand eyes, borne on bright feather, Talk'd with the news, and ponder'd with the weather. To scantling nature, here does licensed art 930 A richer hue, and mellower shape, impart ; By neighb'ring rouge, the brighter eyes convey More brilliant glances to their panting prey; Line 928.] " Borne on bright wing." Miltox. Line 933.] This is the modern justification for wear- ing rouge, as black patches were formerly worn to set oft' the whiteness of the skin. I confess it would be unjustifiable to deny this ornament to the ladies of the stage, whose glances have to shoot " athwart the gloom profound" of Drury Lane theatre : only, as a friend, I would advise them not to daub it on so abominably QO EPICS OF THE TON : While floating robes, from fashion's newest mould, Just what she wills, and as she wills, unfold. 935 Hence little Nell o'er Charles bore sovereign sway, While crowds of rival beauties pass'd away ; that each cheek reminds the people of the galleries of hung beef painted on a sign-board. As to other ladies, I have nothing at present to say to them. Let those, who are curs'd with wall eyes, e'en rouge to give them something like lustre. But it shall ever be my opinion, that countenances, which have any thing to express, will always express it ; and that the eyes will always sparkle when the heart expands with gaiety and good- humour. " Line 935.'] Vide Parisot, &c. &c. Line 536.] Nell Gwyn, the celebrated mistress of Charles the Second, maintained a considerable sway over him, in spite of that licentious monarch's unbounded passion for variety. She was a person of infinite good- humour, and bore the rubs incident to her situation with perfect composure. It is told of her coachman, that, being one day insulted by a brother-whip with the jeer that " he served a w ," he stript and asserted his honour in a sound bruising match. Nell was attracted by the noise of the scuffle ; and on learning the affair from her coachman, " Pugh !" said she, " why do you get yourself bruised for what eyery one knows !" THE FEMALE BOOK. 91 Hence Polly Peachum, with her smirking face Shone first a Duke's sweet friend, and then her Grace. " Z ds, ma'am," replied the coachman, " every one may know that you are a w , but every one is not to say that I serve a w — — !" To the honour of this frail sister be it told, she was almost the only patroness of the unfortunate Otway. We find, by his lamenta- ble dedications to her, that the hereditary nobles, those chosen guardians of merit, saw this fine genius sinking into the grave from the pressure of poverty, while he turned his fainting eyes to the bounty of an actress and a prostitute ! The times, it may be said, are changed — Alas ! within our own memory, such was the fate of unhappy Savage. Deserted by the nobility to whom he was allied, abandoned to profligacy and hunger, the rem- nant of his miserable life was protracted by a pension from Mrs. Abingdon. Line 939.] The celebrated Polly was first mistress to the late Duke of Bolton, and, after the death of his wife, became his duchess. Nor must we here omit an anecdote of the late famous critic and divine, Dr. Joseph Wharton, as it reflects so much honour on the liberality of the Church, in countenancing the poor frailties of the age. The Duke's first wife had long been sinking under a lingering illness, and every day was fondly expected by the lovers to be her last. During this sickening in- EPICS OF THE TON : Hence stale G i, saw her very floor 940 With Tyrian purple quite bedizened o'er ; terval of hope deferred, his Grace and Polly resolved to travel ; but as he was anxious to raise his fair compa- nion to the honour of his legal bed-fellow, as soon as the course of nature should free him from his present burden, he thought it proper to be accompanied by a chaplain, who should perform the ceremony without delay as soon as the departure of the old duchess should be announced. For this honourable purpose Dr. Jo- seph Wharton was selected, and made no scruple to quit a small living and his pastoral duties, for an agree- able tour and the hopes of future preferment. Some occurrences, however, made him sensible that there were some little inconveniencies incident to a clergyman following promotion in the train of a chere amie ; and therefore, after dancing attendance for some time, and despairing that the wished for event would ever arrive, he took his leave, and returned to England. But scarcely had he set his foot on his parsonage, when the unlucky Doctor learnt that the Duchess was dead ! He instantly wrote to the Duke, humbly requesting that he might be permitted again to wait on him, and tie the happy knot. But the impatient lovers had already bor- rowed the aid of the chaplain to the English embassy at Paris, and poor Wharton had nothing for his pains but the recollection of his tour and his honours. THE FEMALE BOOK. 93 Saw to her arms a pr ly lover given, Whom M y could not bind, nor vows of heaven. Hence hoyden J n rears her triple brood, And decks the last with gouts of r 1 blood; 945 Hence to her fetes a princely host repair, And Cobbet sounds abroad the bill of fare, While saints look blue, and sinners cry, O rare ! Line 941.] Tyrian purple is, in plain English, scarlet. As it formed the celebrated dress of a certain noted lady of Babylon, it is with uncommon propriety applied to ornament all females of a similar description. Line 044.] The epithet hoyden is applied here in ho- nour of the personage in question, since it is from the representation of this character that her brightest laurels have sprung. I have applauded her in the Romp, and admired her in the cobler's wife, but how she acts the princess I cannot say, for I have never seen her in that character. Line 947.] I cannot conceive why Porcupine should have been so very indignant at a great personage handing the " fair maid with many children" to her seat of ho- nour. Does he not think that she is perfectly good company for , or , or ? Or, in truth, can he allege that she is not every way quite dig- nified enough for the station which she holds ? 9'i EPICS OF THE TON I Hence still some peer S — L — r's livery wears, Who o'er the pit her large bare bosom rears; 950 Throws wide to every eye the gates of bliss, Till e'en the chimney sweeps begin to hiss. Hence stately B n boasts her warlike lord, Ev'n one who struts in red, and wears a sword ; While hinting paragraphs, with varying carriage, Now sink to settlements, now rise to marriage. 956 Hence lively M n brisk and gay by trade, Makes fickle fortune serve a waiting-maid ; Strange luck indeed ! so many turns to nick it, And win a thousand with each lottery ticket ! 96O Line 952.] There is a degree of indecency from which even the vulgar revolt, and which the most pro- fligate cannot tolerate. It is indeed not less foolish than shameful in a woman, if she imagines that, by such immodest exposures as are here alluded to, she does not rather disgust than allure. It is some consolation to mo- desty, that offences against her are resented even in the playhouse. I could hear the upper gallery hiss, and the very rakes in the side-boxes cry out " 'Tis too bad !" Line 96O.] It was rather a strange coincidence of lucky hits, that this sprightly damsel should get ten or twenty thousand pounds by eighths and quarters of THE FEMALE BOOK. 05 Hence F n, tall by nature, train'd by art To swim the motions of a tonish part, Now acts in truth the part she feign'd a while, And shines the best bred c — nt — s of our isle. O boast of fashion, arts half deified, 965 Claim'd by the great their birthright and their pride ! How quickly learnt ! How little chang'd you shew, Caught by the mean, and mimick'd by the low ! A well-made sharper, in a well-made dress, Shines quite as fine a gallant as his Grace ; 970 New phrases sports, new attitudes devises, Strikes with a bow, or with a frock surprises. A player's girl, not much by nature gifted, By some strange chance to court from green-room shifted, 974 Shines in the groupe, who shone erewhile so high, That her's and their's seem'd quite a different sky ; Her mien more graceful, and her dress more choice, And, harder still ! more known to public voice. lottery tickets ; and that the simple humble thing should have kept the secret to herself for two years after- wards. Such a diing is rarely heard of between Mile- End and Grosvmor Place, §6 EPICS OF THE TON : Thus on the gay parterre, by art-wove bower, Each gazer's eyes attracts the favour'd flower; 98O A thousand sweets its site conspicuous yields, Unknown to lovelier wreathes that deck the fields. But from the dunghill see the gard'ner chuse A plant of statelier stem, and brighter hues ; Fast by the bower the vig'rous scyon stands, 985 And fresh in leaf, and full in bloom expands : No more the passing gazer turns aside To those which shone before in matchless pride ; Unmark'd their puny stalks, and colours lie, The dunghill plant alone attracts the eye ; 99O 'Twas but the place which made their hues so fine, lis. beauties wanted but a place to shine. L C- Come, knowing Muse, some moving themes im- part, Some strains more grateful to the female heart ; Say how the polish'd belle, the finished dame 995 May farthest spread, and most sublime her fame ,♦ How o'er the crowd the gay gallant may rise, And pairs, that pant for glory, touch the skies ! THE FEMALE BOOK. 97 Young, blooming, gay, to fashion formed by rule, And quite accomplish'd from a London school, 1000 Line 1000.] When the education of a London board- ing school is brought forward in a public court of justice, by a learned counsel, as a sufficient cause for suspecting a young lady's moral principles, it is surely time for pa- rents to look to it. I do not mean to insinuate that the persons who keep such houses are themselves vicious, far less that they have any intention (o corrupt the morals of their fair pupils. The late discoveries of the Society for the Suppression of Vice, concerning the delectations presented to one sense, have, indeed, raised a hue and cry, and made my neighbours in the country look upon these seminaries as little better than preparatory schools for the bagnio. But the idea is incorrect ; especially if it intimates that the governesses have any intentions to lead their pupils astray. They are willing enough to keep all things to rights for their own reputation. They only know not how it is to be effected. Ignorance is, in some circumstances, as bad in its consequences as a vicious intention. This is more espe- cially the case in regard to the education of the young. How often do we see children, from the mistaken views of the fondest parents, ruined in their nonage, and ren- dered incapable either of knowledge or virtue ? The mistresses of boarding schools are certainly anxious that their female pupils should make as fine a figure as possi- K EPICS OF THE TON : With fine effect Dorinda play'd her charms, The glance that catches, and the smile that warms, ble : but as to moral education, mental improvement, &c. why if you talked of such a thing the good ladies would simper, and ask if you thought the geography- master could teach it ? To compound drugs requires a long course of instruc- tion ; and to make pins a seven years' apprenticeship ', but to keep a boarding school is not an occupation that is supposed to require any preparation. It is the usual shift of every decayed gentlewoman, every ill-provided widow, who can scrape together money enough for the speculation. No matter for her disqualifications, she is well enough for the mistress of a boarding school. That the pupils should be improved is desirable enough, for it brings reputation.- — But assuredly the mistress of the school can attend but very little to this business. She must look to the main object, the making of a little money. She must put in practice the numerous arts for catching pupils ; she must receive and cajole their rela- tions ; she must keep a watchful eye after her perquisites. But indeed, however well qualified the governess might be, she would neglect her own interest sadly, if she did not pay all her attention to the showy accom- plishments. For what is a young, lady sent to school, but to learn a manner, and to make a figure at the piano, or in the dance ? And is not the applause be- THE FEMALE BOOK. 99 The sprightly motion, or the languid role, With all those nameless things that touch the soul. Nor play'd in vain A youth of noble race 1005 Beheld with kindling soul her early grace, To willing ears his rapt'rous passion sigh'd, And with a title crown'd his happy bride. While youth, around, her gayest pleasures shed, Wealth bless'd their lot, and mutual love their bed ; Given to their vows the wish'd for offspring came, And heap'd new incense on the nuptial flame. 1012 stowed on the governess exactly in proportion to the progress of the pupil in these attainments ? No matter what morals she has learnt, or what pictures she has seen, if she be only an elegant woman. On passing a very elegant mansion, not far from Portland Place, a lady who accompanied me observed that it was the most fashionable boarding school in town, and that nothing could exceed the elegance of the education. : I was anxious to know the particulars — " Ah ! Sir," said she, " they have not only masters for the usual branches of education. They have even masters to hand them in a fashionable style from the drawing-room to the dining- table, and teach them to step into a carriage with grace !" ..cTG. K 2 100 EPICS OF THE TON : Full of his bliss, the gen'rous lord confess'd The golden treasure which his love possess'd ; Wealth, splendor, pleasure, scatter'd at her feet,1015 And strove each wish, ere scarce conceiv'd, to meet. More stately rose his palace, spread his halls, The artists' pride adorn'd his spacious walls j His park's fair paths more gaily taught to rove, The myrtle arbour, and the scented grove; 1020 To bless her hours bright social joys are stored, And frequent guests shine brilliant round her board. Blest in a wife, the crown of j6ys to lend, His bounteous fortune bless'd him with a friend ; A man who knew the world, with wit at will,1025 Who either sex could charm with varying skill : The days of youth together had they pass'd, The hours of frolic, hours too sweet to last ! Together shared their serious thoughts, or toys, Their nameless pains, and dreams of future joys. The friend, more gay than rich, was oft beset 1031 With aking forecast, and the fiends of debt ; These frequent ills the generous lord repair'd, And nobly free the gifts of fortune shared ; THE FEMALE BOOK. 101 With liberal bosom threw his coffers wide, 1035 Improv'd his pleasures, and his wants supplied ; Well pleas'd th' unequal lot of wealth to mend, And by his favours fix. a faithful friend. Thus long endear'd, long aided, and carest, His roof at length receiv'd the welcome guest; 1040 Glad he display 'd the sweets that bless'd his life, His blooming children, and his beauteous wife ; Told his fair partner of his friend's desert, And bade her love the man that shared his heart. With kindling bosom, and with scheme half plan'd, 1045 Dorinda's charms Lothario deeply scan'd ; How great the bliss to win so bright a prize ! How vast the glory in the public eyes ! How proud the triumph over vulgar ties ! Poor were the victory o'er some careless dame, 1050 Whose bosom scarce e'er warm'd the nuptial flame ; Who ne'er a husband's generous kindness felt, Nor at the mother's name was taught to melt. But here, through bands so strongly form'd to break, While love's first blushes yet inform 'd the cheek ; K-3 102 EPICS OF THE TON : To burst the ties a husband fondly wove, 1056 By deeds of kindness, and by words of love ; While prattling infants round the mother twined, And cast their golden fetters o'er her mind ; More brilliant still, the ear of Fame to rend, 1060 The conqu'ror's self the husband's inmost friend, With trust still honour'd, still with favors crown'd, Won by his love, and by his bounty bound :—- How would th' exploit adorn Lothario's name, Above the common hope, the vulgar aim ! 1065 Sweet were his tones, his features ever mild, Still with her cares he sigh'd, her joys he smiled; Still met his eye her eye, his thought her thought, Still words congenial looks congenial caught. Dorinda well had learn'd to move with grace, 1O70 Display her figure, and adjust her face; To guide her snow-white fingers o'er the wire,. Outvie the rival, and the gallant fire, And force the brightest circle to admire. Thus taught to shine, and leave despis'd behind 1075 Those arts which chasten and exalt the mind ; Which arm the heart against the treach'rous elf, And teach fair woman to respect herself ; THE FEMALE BOOK. 103 The touch, the look, to meet with proud disdain, Which point to ends that Honour counts a stain ; With secret joy the glowing dame survey 'd 1081 The rapid conquest which her beauties made ; First heard his sighs, then listen'd as he vow'd, His looks return'd, and his embrace allow'd, Forgot her honour, yielded up her charms, 1085 And blest Lothario revel'd in her arms. What though a husband, from his dream awoke, Pierced to the heart, and madden'd with the stroke, Bemoan'd with anguish'd looks, and accents wild, His bed dishonour'd, and his race defiled, 10&0 His friend a traitor, and his love undone, And hope no more his lot beneath the sun ! What though the infant, climbing by his knees, With piteous look its father's anguish sees, Strives with its arts his sorrows to compose, 1095 And calls its mother to relieve his woes ! What though the fair, her short-lived vision fled, Sees endless horrors crowd around her head, A generous husband sinking in despair, An offspring left without a mother's care, 1100 104 EPICS OF THE TON: With grief in age her tender parents torn, Compell'd to curse the day their child was born ! Unpitied she, the scoff of public fame, Doom'd through long years to weep her lasting shame, Her very children shudd'ring at her name ! 1 105 Such trivial ills must wait on feats so bright, No mighty vict'ry e'er proved harmless quite; If petty miseries high-soul'd heroes weigh'd, No field were fought, no conquest e'er were made. Now o'er the crowd sublime, Lothario's name 1 1 10 Ranks with the foremost in the lists of fame ; "Where'er he goes, the greybeard mothers shake, And e'en his name makes wedded brows to ake. And shall not glory soothe her idle moan ? Without such feats the fair had died unknown,1115 Nor at the assize, nor in the epic shone. Line 1113.] I should imagine that the hero here al- luded to has nearly attained that climax of fame in the annals of gallantry, which the younger Lord Lyttleton seems to have reached, when he informs a friend, that his successes among the sex had rendered him so formi- dable that no modest woman would now be seen in his company. THE FEMALE BOOK. H M- Our morning ride, my muse, begins to close, And nature calls us to a short repose, Ere, still more daring, our bold verse aspire To raise a song of flame to men of fire. 1 120 Yet ere we check the flight, or pull the rein, Together let us tune a prouder strain ; No longer sportive, but sincerely pay To nobler themes a tributary lay. Shall Fashion's fleeting offspring claim the song, And generous notes their little date prolong, 1 126 Yet, from the Muse, to her no tribute rise, Whose influence gilds our fields, and cheers our skies ? Blest is the bard, whom Truth shall not disown, - While swell his notes to celebrate a throne ; 1130 Who sings, with honest pride, and heart elate, The first in virtue as the first in state; His subject chosen by a people's choice, His lays the echo of the public voice : 105 EPICS OF THE TON I Who never dreads lest his suspicious style 1 133 With loud applauses should provoke a smile ; With pure approval secret sneers should raise, A bitter satire under seeming praise. Say, shall the censor read th' historic page, And search the secret annals of our age ? 1 140 No whisp'ring plots, or fraudful arts he'll find By thee to mar a people's peace design'd ; No private ends pursued by black intrigues, Won by pernicious war, or perjur'd leagues ; With bold deceits that misbecome thy sex, 1 145 Thou ne'er wer't known the statesman to perplex ; To shake the court, to sheath or draw the sword, Confound the council, and disgrace thy lord. Line 114S.] Such practices have, fortunately for this country, been more common in the council of France than the cabinet of Great Britain. Yet even in this country, they have occasionally been felt, and perhaps no reign, that of King William scarcely excepted, has been freer from them than the present. The Stuarts were not the only princes who sacrificed the honour of their country, and their own safety, to the intrigues of their wives and mistresses. How honourable is it for a THE FEMALE BOOK. 107 Once in thy life and then, how blest the zeal That led thee to assume the public weal ! — 1 150 When yearning factions bore allegiance down, And near bereft thy husband of a crown ; Thou, with a spirit high, and dauntless mien, That spoke the wife, and well announc'd the queen, Didst justice, honour, public virtue, bring, 1155 To save the state, and help an injur'd king ; To scare those wolves, that, prowling for their prey, Long'd for the dark, and strove to drown the day. Or let the censor to thy court repair, He'll find no rampant vices foster'd there; 1 l6o No lewd debauch the nightly vigil keep, No Sunday revels make the pious weep. No husband's feelings there th' adult'ress shocks, And bravely gay his shame and anguish mocks ; No knavish courtier falls a willing prey, 1 1 65 And courting fortune throws his all away, To catch the royal favour loses still, queen to forego that influence which she might have attained, and to sacrifice vanity and passion to the good of her country ! lOS EPICS OF THE TON J In hopes far richer draughts of wealth to swill, And from the bleeding nation quaff his fill. Or turn thee, censor, view her private life, 11 JO Attend the mother, and observe the wife : Here duty, honour, temp'rate virtues shed Their verdant wreathes around a fruitful bed ; A happy husband feels her cares bestow Domestic joys which monarchs rarely know ; 1 175 Maternal cares a blooming offspring own, And cottage pleasures spring around the throne. Rare virtues even in vale remote from town, Mark'd in the low, and honour'd by the clown — But oh ! how rarely found to grace a crown ! 1 180 Line H69.I This was, in former times, an usual ex- pedient by which courtiers brought themselves into fa- vour, and the kings and queens procured a supply for their extravagance. Those who made their way to offices in this manner could not be supposed to possess any yearnings of a disinterested patriotism, and the pil- laged nation repaid, in ample measure, the losses of the gaming table. How degrading were such practices to royalty ! How deplorable for this country should they ever be renewed ! THE FEMALE BOOK. 109 Nor fortune here incurs her wonted blame, And leaves to merit but an empty name j Tby virtues meet their well-bestow'd reward, Heaven sends its blessings, sends its power to guard. Free from those ills which oft attend the great, 1 185 And make them envy ev'n the humblest state, Thy happy years in peace have pass'd away, And beams still bright adorn thy verging day. By brilliant prospects from thy home convey 'd To shores where Honour dwells in Freedom's shade, To meet thy kindred, meet a husband there, 11 91 Thou for a welcome didst not find a snare ; Nor all unknowing, all unknown, behold A train deceitful, and a husband cold ; Thy bridal transports, and thy virgin charms, 11 93 Next morn deserted for a wanton's arms ; No friend to guide, no guardian to protect, By fears opprest, and wounded by neglect ; To a lone mansion, to thy grief consign'd With solitude to feed thine aching mind ; 120O To dream of former hopes, of courtly scenes, The joys of state, and equipage of queens ; L 110 \ EPICS OF THE TON: To waste thy days unconscious of delight, And bathe in tears thy solitary night ; When led by nature's counsel to impart 12.05 Thy secret sorrows to a parent's heart, To find this wretched solace ev'n denied, The seal of honour broke, its laws defied ; While he who vow'd thy weakness to defend, In joy thy partner, and in grief thy friend, 1210 To other cares, to other pleasures fled, Deserting thine to share another's bed, Mock'd at thy woes, and scoffing at thy pain, Had joy 'd to hear thy heart had burst in twain : — From ills like these kind Heav'n has set thee free, How sad the doom if such a princess be! 121(1 Unheeded, save by those who deeply feel For private sorrows and the public weal, Thou didst not in a lone, obscure retreat, Peruse the vaunting records of the fete, 1 220 Where rank with graces, wealth with beauty strove, To fix the gazer, and provoke to love ; Where brilliant gems profusely shone in pride, Where eyes more brilliant all the gems outvied ; THE FEMALE BOOK. ] 1 1 Where branching lustres pour'd around the hall Meridian brightness to illume the ball ; 1226 Where youthful lords and dames, their country's boast, Paid homage to the hostess and the host ; Where, famed for manners, much by nature graced, Thy royal husband far outshone the rest, 1230 Himself the host, himself the banquet's pride But in thy place another did preside ! Such pangs from thee did heaven benign avert, Nor with such insult poignarded thy heart. Left by the father, thou didst not behold, 1235 In tears, yet pleas'd, thy infant's charms unfold ; And, sighing, in the little smiler's face, With mournful pride the sire's own features trace ; In wonder that this image could not move His melting soul to soft returns of love, 1240 Or joys more grateful to a parent shed, Than bolster'd beauties and a barren bed. Thou didst not with maternal anguish mourn Thine only babe from thine embraces torn j 1 1 2 EPICS OF TH£ TON : Fear lest affection's filial germ should die, 1245 Snatch'd from thy fost'ring hand, and watchful eye j And sadly weep lest thy hard fate should prove A daughter's duty like a husband's love. Far other scenes in wedlock didst thou find, An offspring numerous, and a husband kind. 1250 Led for a respite to thy frequent tears, To chear thy widow 'd, more than widow'd years ; By some poor pastimes that might call to mind Thine early scenes while fortune yet was kind ; By deeds of bounty to the wretch distrest, 1255 Deeds rarely practised by the great, or blest ; By friendship's soothing converse to beguile The tedious hours, and teach thy grief to smile ; — Thou didst not find a lurking adder dart Its secret venom to thy trusting heart j 1260 The sycophant that now, with fawning look, Thy bounty courted, and thy state partook, Lured by some selfish end, some damning bribe, Become the basest of the lying tribe, Pervert thy motives, and thy deeds defame, 1265 And strive to fix dishonour on thy name; THE FEMALE BOOK. 113 Search in thy pleasures, scanty, humble, rare, For deeds to blacken, and for words to snare ; Ev'n in the orphan whom thy cares did save From pining want, and an untimely grave, 1270 By dev'lish art, the wish'd occasion feign To blast thine honour and thy truth to stain ! — O malice hard to bear, and keenly felt, Where black ingratitude is join'd to guilt! Where many a former pang the bosom knew, 1275 And piercing slander tears the wound anew ! — Such venom'd ills far banish from thy fate, A generous husband, and a guardian state. Forlorn, deserted, sicken'd, and distress'd, By slander harrow'd, by neglect oppress'd, 1280 Thy fancy led by present ills to roam, Where honour'd parents bless'd thine early home — Thou didst not sink to hear the tale of woe, A father slaughter'd by a barb'rous foe; While bravely struggling with o'erwhelming fate, And nobly falling to support a state ; 1286 Yet ere the final stroke of death was given, Yet ere his soul had wing'd her flight to Heaven, 114 EPICS OF THE TON: Left for a while to learn his country's fall, His people spoil'd, his children reft of all ; 12Q0 To think of her, once seeming blest and great, The promis'd sovereign of the noblest state, Now in a foreign land forsaken quite, With no protector to assert her right — Then finding nought on earth to sooth his woes, A hero's struggles like a martyr's close ! 1296 His very bones denied their native soil, His very ashes sentenced to exile ! Thou didst not hear how deep this killing dart Had torn thine anguish'd mother's bleeding heart* While all distracted o'er the bier she wept, 1301 And guardian reason scarce his station kept ; Thy hapless kindred scatter'd far from home, A stranger's land with grief-worn steps to roam. Thou didst not o'er such sorrows weep alone 1305 Sigh to the winds, and to the midnight moan ; Amidst a people famed for generous deeds, For softer natures, and for purer creeds, Not see one comforter thy gates attend, One noble own himself in grief thy friend, 1310 THE FEMALE BOOK. 115 One prouder soul the frowns of vice despise, And o'er unfeeling meanness greatly rise ! Far from such ills and ever be they far ! A fate how different rules thy happy star ! From friends perfidious, and the foes alarms, 1315 Thy Britons shield thee with their guardian arms ; With ready vengeance marshal round thy throne, And hold thy safety dearer than their own. Should any grief upon thy peace intrude, For griefs will find the prosp'rous, vex the good, Thy rising care shall early solace chear, 1321 A people join, a husband wipe thy tear ! THE EPICS OF THE TON, BOOK THE SECOND. BEING THE MALE BOOK. THE EPICS OF THE TON: THE MALE BOOK. V^o.me, listen to my strain, for I am he Who sung erewhile of female A and B ; Come, for you know me not, though I have strung My lyre to themes in prose or verse unsung ; To woman's glory blown the trump of fame, 5 Tales yet untold, and deeds without a name ; Now louder blasts aloft triumphant rise, And waft the mighty male ones to the skies, Who still at White's, or at St. Stephen's late, Now shake the dice-box, now hold fast the state; Line 6\] " A deed without a name." Shakspeare. Line 8.] ff Terrarum dominos evehit ad deos." Horace. 120 EPICS OF THE TON : Swear at Newmarket, swagger at reviews, 1 1 And now recruit the forces, now the stews j In side-box glitter, gild a birth-day train, Eat, drink, and die Come, listen to my strain ! D of P . Who's in? who's out ? a question hard as vain, Before we speak, the outs are in again : 16 Line 14.] Were it not that great geniuses, of a si- milar mould, are apt to hit upon the same thoughts and expressions, we should suspect that this commencement were little else than an imitation of the inimitable exor- dium of Madoc, which so strikingly displays the feel- ings of conscious genius : " Come, listen to a tale of times of old !