All other empire I refign;
But be the fphere of beauty mine.
For in the downy lawn of reft,
That opens on a woman's breast,
Attended by my peaceful train,
I choose to live, and choose to reign.
Far-fighted faith I bring along,
And truth, above an army ftrong;
And chastity, of icy mould,
Within the burning tropics cold;
And lowlinefs, to whofe mild brow
The pow'r and pride of nations bow;
And modefty, with downcast eye,
That lends the morn her virgin dye;
And innocence, array'd in light;
And honour, as a tow'r upright;
With fweetly winning graces, more
Than poets ever dreamt of yore,
In unaffected condu&t free,
All fmiling fifters, three times three;
And rofy peace, the cherub blefs'd,
That nightly fings us all to reft.

Hence, from the bud of nature's prime,
From the firft ftep of infant time,
Woman, the world's appointed light,
Has kirted ev'ry fhade with white;
Has food for imitation high,
To ev'ry heart and ev'ry eye;
From ancient deeds of fair renown,
Has brought her bright memorials down;
To time affix'd perpetual youth,
And form'd each tale of love and truth.
Upon a new Promethean plan
She moulds the effence of a man,
Tempers his mafs, his genius fires,
And as a better foul, inspires.

The rude the foftens, warms the cold,
Exalts the meck, and checks the bold,
Calls floth from his fupine repofe,
Within the coward's bofom glows,
Of pride unplumes the lofty creft,
Bids bathful merit ftand confefs'd,
And, like coarse metal from the mines,
Collects, irradiates, and refines.

The gentle science the imparts,
All manners fmooths, informs all hearts;
From her sweet influence are felt

Paffions that pleafe, and thoughts that melt;
To formy rage the bids controul,
And fiaks ferenely on the foul,
Softens Deucalion's flinty race,
And tunes the warring world to peace.
Thus arm'd to all that's light and vain,
And freed from thy fantastic chain,
She fills the sphere by Heaven affign'd,
And, rul'd by me, o'errules mankind.

He fpoke. The Nymph impatiens food,
And, laughing, thus her fpeech rene'à:
And pray, Sir, may I be so bold
To hope your pretty tale is told;
And next demand, without a cavil,
What new Utopia do you travel?

Upon my word, these high-flown fancies
Shew depth of learning—in romances.

Why, what unfafhion'd ftuff you tell us
Of buckram dames, and tiptoe fellows!
Go, child; and when you're grown maturer,
You'll shoot your next opinion furer.

O fuch a pretty knack at painting!
And all for foft'ning, and for fainting!
Guess now, who can, a fingle feature,
Thro' the whole piece of female nature;
Then mark! my loofer hand may fit
The lines, too coarfe for Love to hit.
'Tis faid that woman, prone to changing,
Thro' all the rounds of folly ranging,
On life's uncertain ocean riding,
No reafon, rule, nor rudder guiding,
Is like the comet's wand'ring light,
Eccentric, ominous, and bright;
Tracklefs, and fhifting as the wind;
A fea, whofe fathom none can find;
A moon, ftill changing and revolving;
A riddle, paft all human folving;
A blifs, a plague, a heaven, a hell;
A-fomething that no man can tell.
Now learn a fecret from a friend,
But keep your counfel, and attend.

Tho' in their tempers thought fo diftant,
Nor with their fex nor felves confiftent,
'Tis but the difference of a name,

And ev'ry woman is the fame;
For as the world, however varied,
And through unnumber'd changes carried,
Of elemental modes and forms,
Clouds, meteors, colours, calms, and ftorms
Tho' in a thousand suits array'd,
Is of one fubject matter made;
So, Sir, a woman's conftitution,
The world's enigma, finds folution;
And let her form be what you will,
I am the subject effence ftill.

With the firft fpark of female fenfe,
The fpeck of being, I commence,
Within the womb make fresh advances,
And dictate future qualms and fancies;
Thence in the growing form expand,
With childhood travel hand in hand,
And give a tafte for all their joys
In gewgaws, rattles, pomp, and noise.
And now, familiar and unaw'd,
I fend the flutt'ring foul abroad.
Prais'd for her fhape, her air, her mien,
The little goddefs, and the queen,
Takes at her infant fhrine oblation,
And drinks fweet draughts of adulation,
Now blooming, tall, erect, and fair,
To drefs becomes her darling care;
The realms of beauty then I bound;
I fwell the hoop's enchanted round,
Shrink in the waift's defcending size,
Heav'd in the fnowy bofom, rife,
High on the flowing lappet fail,
Or, curl'd in treffes, kifs the gale.
Then to her glafs I lead the fair,
And fhew the lovely idol there;
Where, ftruck as by divine emotion,
She bows with most fincere devotion,
L 3

And

Some the evades or difavows,
Demurs to all, and none allows,
A kind of ancient thing call'd fables!
And thus the Goddess turn'd the tables.
Now both in argument grew high,
And choler flash'd from either eye;
Nor wonder each refus'd to yield
The conqueft of fo fair a field.

When happily arriv'd in view

A Goddess whom our grandames knew,
Of afpect grave, and fober gait,
Majeftic, awful, and fedate,

As heaven's autumnal eve ferene,
When not a cloud o'ercafts the scene;
Once Prudence call'd, a matron fam'd,
And in old Rome Cornelia nam'd.
Quick at a venture both agree
To leave their ftrife to her decree.
And now by each the facts were statod,
In form and manner as related.
The cafe was short. They crav'd opinion,
Which held o'er females chief dominion:
When thus the Goddefs, anfw'ring mild,
First shook her gracious head, and fmil'd.
Alas, how willing to comply,
Yet how unfit a judge am I!
In times of golden date, 'tis true,
I fhar'd the fickle fex with you;
But from their prefence long precluded,
Or held as one whofe form intruded,
Full fifty annual funs can tell,
Prudence has bid the fex farewell.

In this dilemma what to do,
Or who to think of, neither knew;
For both, ftill biafs'd in opinion,
And arrogant of fole dominion,
Were forc'd to hold the cafe compounded,
Or leave the quarrel where they found it.
When in the nick, a rural fair,

Of inexperienc'd gait and air,

Who ne'er had crofs'd the neighb'ring lake,
Nor feen the world beyond a wake,
With cambric coif, and kerchief clean,
Tript lightly by them o'er the green.

Now, now! cried love's triumphant child,
And at approaching conquest smil'd,
If Vanity will once be guided,
Our diffrence foon may be decided;
Behold yon wench, a fit occafion
To try your force of gay perfuafion.
Go you, while I retire aloof,
Go, put those boafted pow'rs to proof;
And if your prevalence of art
Tranfcends my yet unerring dart,
I give the fav'rite conteft o'er,
And ne'er will boaft my empire more.
At once, so said, and so consented;
And well our Goddess feem'd contented,
Nor paufing, made a moment's stand,
But tript, and took the girl in hand,

Meanwhile the Godhead, unalarm'd,
As one to each occafion arm'd,
Forth from his quiver cull'd a dart,
That erit had wounded many a heart;

Then bending, drew it to the head;
The bow-ftring twang'd, the arrow fled,
And, to her fecret foul addrefs'd,
Transfix'd the whiteness of her breast.
But here the Dame, whofe guardian care
Had to a moment watch'd the fair,
At once her pocket-mirror drew,
And held the wonder full in view;
As quickly rang'd in order bright,
A thousand beauties rush to fight,
A world of charms, till now unknown,
A world revcal'd to her alone;
Enraptur'd ftands the love-fick maid,
Sufpended o'er the darling shade,
Here only fixes to admire,
And centres ev'ry fond defire.

$255. The Young Lady and Looking-Glass. WILKIE.

VE deep philofophers, who can

Explain that various creature, Man,
Say, is there any point fo nice
As that of off'ring an advice?
To bid your friend his errors mend,
Is almoft certain to offend :
Tho' you in foftest terms advise,
Confefs him good, admit him wise;
In vain you fweeten the difcourse,
He thinks you call him fool, or worse:
You paint his character, and try
If he will own it, and apply;
Without a name reprove and warn;
Here none are hurt, and all may learn :
This too muft fail; the picture fhewn,
No man will take it for his own.
In moral lectures treat the cafe,
Say this is honcft, that is bafe;
In converfation none will bear it;
And for the pulpit, few come near is
And is there then no other way
A moral leffon to convey?
Muft all that shall attempt to teach,
Admonish, fatirize, or preach?
Yes, there is one, an ancient art,
By fages found to reach the heart,
Ere fcience, with diftinétions nice,
Had fix'd what virtue is, and vice,
Inventing all the various names
On which the moralift declaims:
They wou'd by fimple tales advise,
Which took the hearer by furprife;
Alarm'd his confcience, unprepar'd,
Ere pride had put it on its guard;
And made him from himself receive
The leffons which they meant to give.
That this device will oft prevail,
And gain its end when others fail,

If

any fhall pretend to doubt,

The tale which follows makes it out. There was a little ftubborn dame, Whom no authority could tame; Reftive, by long indulgence, grown, No will the minded but her own:

At

Whofe hofpitality in need
Reliev'd the traveller and his fteed;
For both fufficiently were tir'd,
Well drench'd in ditches, and bemir'd.
Hunger the first attention claims;
Upon the coals a rather flames.

Dry crufts, and liquor fomething stale,
Were added to make up a meal;
At which our traveller, as he fat,
By intervals began to chat.--
'Tis odd, quoth he, to think what strains
Of folly govern fome folks brains:
What makes you choose this wild abode ?
You'll fav, 'tis to converfe with God.
Alas, I fear, 'tis all a whim;
You never faw or spoke with him.
They talk of Providence's pow'r,
And fay, it rules us ev'ry hour:
To me all nature feems confufion,
And fuch weak fancies mere delufion.
Say, if it rul'd and govern'd right,
Could there be fuch a thing as night;
Which, when the fun has left the skies,
Puts all things in a deep difguife›
If then a trav'iler chance to ftrav
The leaft ftep from the public way,
He's foon in eudlefs mazes loft,
As I have found it to my cost.
Befides, the gloom which nature wears
Aflifts imaginary fears,

Of ghosts and goblins from the waves
Of fulph'rous lakes and yawning graves;
Ail sprung from fuperftitious feed,
Like other maxims of the creed.
For my part, I reject the tales
Which faith fuggefts when reafon fails;
And reafon nothing understands,
Unwarranted by eyes and hands.
Thefe fubtile effences, like wind,
Which fome have dreamt of, and call mind,
It ne'er admits; nor joins the lye,
Which fays men rot, but never die.
It holds all future things in doubt,
And therefore wifely leaves them out:
Suggefting what is worth our care,
To take things prefent as they are,
Our wilft courfe: the reft is folly,
The fruit of fpleen and melancholy.-

Sir, quoth the Hermit, I agree
That Reafon fill our guide thould be :
And will admit her as the test
Of what is true, and what is beft;
But Reafon fure wou'd blush for shame
At what you mention in her name;
Her dictates are fublime and hoły;
Impiety's the child of Folly;
Reafon, with measur'd steps and flow,
To things above from things below
Afcends, and guides us thro' her sphere
With caution, vigilance, and care.
Faith in the utmoft frontier stands,
And Reafon puts us in her hands;
But not till her commiffion giv'n
I found authentic, and from Heav'n,

'Tis ftrange, that man, a reas'ning creature,
Should mifs a God in viewing nature;
Whole high perfections are difplay'd
In ev'ry thing his hands have made :
Ev'n when we think their traces loft.
When found again, we fee them moft:
The night itfelf, which you would blame
As fomething wrong in nature's frame,
Is but a curtain to inveft

Her weary children, when at reft:
Like that which mothers draw to keep
The light off from a child afleep.
Befide, the fears which darkness breeds
(At least augments) in vulgar heads,
Are far from ufclefs, when the mind
Is narrow, and to earth confin'd;
They make the worldling think with pain
On frauds, and oaths, and ill-got gain;
Force from the ruffian's hand the knife
Juft rais'd against his neighbour's life;
And in defence of virtue's caufe,
Affift each fanction of the laws.
But fouls ferene, where wifdom dwells,
And fuperftitious dread expels,
The filent majefty of night
Excites to take a nobler flight;
With faints and angels to explore
The wonders of creating pow'r;
And lifts on contemplation's wings
Above the fphere of mortal things.
Walk forth, and tread thofe dewy plains
Where night in awful filence reigns;
The fky's ferené, the air is ftill,
The woods ftand lift'ning on cach hill,
To catch the founds that fink and fwell,
Wide-floating from the ev'ning bell,
While foxes howl, and beetles hum,
Sounds which make filence ftill more dumb:
And try if folly, rafh and rude,

Dare on the facred hour intrude.
Then turn your eyes to heaven's broad frame,
Attempt to quote thofe lights by name
Which fhine fo thick, and fpread to far;
Conceive a fun in ev'ry ftar,

Round which unnumber'd plancts roll,
While comets fhoot.athwart the whole;
From fyftem ftill to fyftem ranging,
Their various benefits exchanging,
And fhaking from their flaming hair
The things moft needed ev'rywhere-
Explore this glorious fcene, and fay
That night difcovers lefs than day;
That 'tis quire useless, and a fign
That chance difpofes, not defign:
Whoc'er maintains it, I'll pronounce
Him either mad, or elfe a dunce;
For reafon, tho' 'tis far from ftrong,
Will foon find out that nothing's wrong
From figns and evidences clear,
Of wife contrivance.cv'rywhere.

The Hermit ended, and the youth
Became a convert to the truth;
At least he yielded, and confefs'd
That all was order'd for the best.