That all the heav'ns illuminate,
And joys, unfelt before, create.

They cry aloud-"THE GENERAL DOOM,
THE DAY OF RESURRECTION'S COME!"
And lo! as down my fight I bend,
Th' inhabitants of earth afcend!
In fwarms they rife, from latest time,
From ev'ry nation, ev'ry clime!
The quick and dead of ev'ry coaft,
Now, fmiling, meet the angelic host!
All upward, now, their courfe pursue,
'Till heav'n itself appears in view!
'Till the fam'd mufic of the fpheres
Salutes our ravish'd wond'ring ears!
But, William, juft as I believe,
No pow'r can me of blifs bereave-
Just as th' eternal gates unfold,
And, paft conceiving, I behold
The glories I muft foon partake-
William-juft then-alas-I wake.'

Before we difmifs this article, we will juft hint to Mr. H. that his perpetual affectation of double, triple, and even quadruple rhymes, instead of adding to the merit of his verfe, has very much deformed it. Of all petty excellencies that a verfifier can be ambitious, this, in which Mr. H. feems to pride himself, is the most petty. Can, for inftance, fuch buffoonish rhymes as these, many of which are defective, divert any but children?

Thefe mighty dead, of whom you puff,
And think you ne'er can brag enough;
Nor your trull Fame (whose cheeks are bloated,
Like bladders, on which boys have floated)
Stuft out and cramm'd with lies enormous,
About her flashing, fwashing Hectors,
Her grim Mandragons-Plufquamperfectors,
Of fuffering man the curft diffectors,
But who's more filent than a dormouse
Concerning private worth and action;
Or, if she peak, fpeaks in detra&ion;
Thefe bull-fac'd, brazen-headed Meffieurs,
Wholefale and retail human graziers,
These man-flesh butchers, with their fly-flops,
Thefe Anthropophaginian Cyclops,
That tap who never had the Hydrops,
Thefe Caco-dæmons, I maintain, Sir,
Of whom both fhe and you are vain, Sir,

As fubject were to flux, or cancer,
As you, or I, or any man, Sir:

As liable to puke, and be fick,

When they were ordered to take phyfic;....

As much would fcratch and writhe and groan,
At itch, gripes, gravel, gout, or stone;

With fcrew'd-up phiz would grunt and twift-Oh la!
When they were cutting for å fftula;

a

Would faint as foon, if, for a fcotomy,
The Doctor should prefcribe phlebotomy;
As much would caper, curfe, and kick,
When needle under nail did ftick;
As much were tortur'd by brain-tumours,
I mean as captious in their humours,
Would fret and fume, and be as fractious,
As drunken chimney fweeps or blackhoes;
Would break the crockery, fpill the grey peas,
And cuff their wives, and whip their babies,
Burn tables, tools, and chairs to cinders,
And tofs the houfe out at the windows;
Would pinch, bite, fcratch, fnarl, fcold or fquabble,
Like Billingfgate or Ragfair rabble.

Methinks I hear one of thefe heroes,
Who little better were than Neros,
Wrangling with Ma'am, and domineering,
Bullying at this, at that thing fneering,
Cry-D-n your pudding-d-n your beef,
And d-n your fobbing, fniveling grief;
"Damme I'd rather munch a dry cruft
"Alone, than live with you on pie-cruft;
"For neither you, your foup, or fallad,
"Are made at all to pleafe my palate."
If Ma'am replies, he lays the lash on,
And, with his hair erect with paffion,
Out iffucs he, brimful of ire,

Snorts fwords, breathes brimftone, and fpits fire,
Snuffs gunpowder, rips up red coats,

Cuts you fome fifty thoufand throats,
Leaves not a rat, cat, hog, or dog an eye,
But cleaves them as you'd cleave mahogany;
Vineyards and fields devours in malice,
And quaffs hot blood in fcull-fcoop'd chalice;
Then vaunts his moft pernicious pranks,
And looks dead who don't give him thanks;
Annihilates Tuum and Meum,
Commands the priest to chant Te Deum,
And, like Drawcanfir, bluffly fwears,
"All this he does, because he dares.'

If we have dwelt longer upon this poem, than its importance might feem to deferve, it is from a perfuafion that the Author is capable of better exertions; and, confequently, the strictures we have paffed upon his prefent poem will not be thrown away, Let him, in future, attend to the Horatian rule,

Quid ferre recufent

Quid valeant humeri.

Les

Let him, in fhort, chufe a fubject equal to his powers, avoid puerile affectation of fingularity, and substitute in the place of his oaths, fome other embellishment, lefs difgufting by prophaneness and vulgarity.

2s. 6d.

ART. XI. Aurelia; or, The Conteft: an Heroi-comic Poem; in Four
Cantos. By the Author of Modern Manners. 4to.
Dodfley. 1783.

THE
Teh of this frievailing of our

THE object of this fprightly and ingenious fatire is to ridicule fome of the prevailing foilies of our modern fine ladies; particularly that prepofterous, though fashionable, practice of using cofmetics; a practice, not lefs pernicious to health, than in the end destructive of beauty, in those who are so infatuated as to give way to it. The vehicle of our Author's ridieule, in which "familiar incident is blended with allegorical picture," is fomething of the fame nature with thofe two moft exquifite poems, Pope's Rape of the Lock, and Hayley's Triumphs of Temper. It is not, however, a fervile imitation of either. The ftory turns upon an accident, that is fuppofed to happen at a Ridotto. Aurelia, a celebrated toaft, imprudently heats herself in the dance; the factitious lilies and roses are deranged; her admirers are disgusted; her rivals triumph; and fhe, retiring with difgrace and mortification, goes home; reflects upon her folly; and-reforms.

One of the principal agents in the machinery is Azaël, a demon, who, according to a Rabbinical fable, prefides over the toilet; and the other, a good genius, whofe province is to fuperintend the improvement of the female mind, His office and character are thus announced:

46

Nymph, difmifs thy fear,
No evil can approach while I am near.
Behold the Guardian Power, whofe fecret fway
The wifer females of the world obey;

I bid them caft each woman toy behind,
And raise to nobler views th'afpiring mind;
'Twas I that gave to DUDLEY's beauteous wife,
Whom MARY's cruel hand depriv'd of life,
A nobler fortitude than heroes reach,
And virtue, greater than the fages teach,
Sweetness of foul beyond what mortals fhow,
And piety like that which feraphs know.
And now, in modern days, though rare to fee,
Behold accomplish'd beauty led by me,

STREATFIELD, the learn'd, the gay, in blooming years
Forfakes the dance to dry a widow's tears:

When hoary Age her Tutor's brows o'erfpread,

And Sickness bow'd his venerable head,

O'er the pale couch the hung with fiiial care,

And pluck'd the thorn Difeafe had planted there.

My voice infpires the cultivated mind,
Whofe polish'd page inftructs and charms mankind
'Twas I directed CARTER's piercing eyes
To roll inquifitive through ftarry skies;
To her the lore of Grecian fchools I brought,
And rooted in her heart the truths fhe taught.
Į, to CHAPONE, th' important task affign'd
To fmooth the temper and improve the mind.
Through MORE I pointed to the paths of truth,
And rais'd her voice to guide unthinking youth;
That fenfibility, allied to Heaven,

That facred pen the boats, by me were given.
1 ftood, a favouring mufe, at BURNEY's fide,
To lafh unfeeling Wealth and ftubborn Pride,
Soft Affectation, infolently vain,

And wild Extravagance with all her fweeping train ;
Led her that mode:n Hydra to engage,
And point a HARRELL to a madd'ning age:
'Then bade the moralift, admir'd and prais'd,
Fly from the loud applause her talent rais'd.
Ev'n MONTAGUE my aiding hand must own,
That plac'd her high on Learning's polish'd throne,
That taught her arm the critic fpear to wield,
Foil'd the fly Gaul, and drove him from the field:
I bade her liberal care receive, carefs

That ftruggling merit which the proud deprefs,
That bashful want, which, bending to the grave,
Shrinks from the pitying hand held out to fave.

Long haft thou known the care, the toil, the ftrife,
That crowds the road of fashionable life;

Late haft thou found what fhame may wait the maid
Who calls too rafhly on cosmetic aid;
Now learn that fpecious art will ever prove
A foe to beauty, and a foe to love."

He faid, and ftrait his opening robes reveal
Wide o'er his breaft a plate of polish'd steel;
On whofe fmooth face AURELIA caft her eyes.
And wondering fees a gorgeous chamber rife;
The toilet first, in all its pomp array'd,
True to her fex, attracts the fleeping maid;
Transparent gauze enrich'd with fpots of gold,
Hangs round the glafs in many a fludied fold;
Clofe by its fide another mirror lies,
Which fwells each feature to gigantic fize,
And fhews what fpecks diminutive difgrace,
What coming pimples threat the beauteous face;
Two marbled volumes on the toilet lay,
Their flender backs with golden letters gay,
Which words like these reveal in fpreading pride,
The Mafter piece of Art, and Beauty's Guide;

i

Loofe

Loofe manufcript receipts around them lie

To bid warts, ring-worms, fcurf, and morphews die:
Here in array, the whole cosmetic band,

Face-papers, wash-balls, creams and tinctures stand,
Sultana water, the Circaffian glow,

And the foft bloom of NINON DE L'ENCLOS.
Now to the bed the virgin turns her eyes,
Where, ftretch'd in dirty pomp, a female lies;
Around her head a circling bandage twin'd,
Tied with white cords, and fix'd with pins behind,
One clotted lump of hair beneath remain'd,
Stiff with hard greafe, and all the pillow ftain'd;
Her thick complexion, like the ftream that laves
The clay-bound foil when rains difturb the waves,
Look'd dark and muddy; on her hand fhe wore
A glove, which feem'd too often worn before.
"Behold," the Genius cried, a modifh dame,
Whofe bofom panted for ignoble fame,

The fame of beauty; fill intent to win
By outward charms, the nobler part within
She priz'd, as favage tibes th' unpolish'd gold,
When beads and glass their dazzled eyes behold;
Tho' Nature gave her many a blooming grace,
The ftore of Art was ranfack'd for her face;
Now mark the fruit of all her toil and pains,
A fallow hag at thirty fhe remains,

Unable to forego the daily task,

And fhew her well-known face without her mask.
But now behold a dame of artless life,
Of equal years, a mother and a wife.”
Soon as he spoke, the mimic mirror shows
A fair-one hush'd in undisturb'd repose;
On the plain toilet, with no trophies gay,
CHAPONE's inftructive volume open lay;
Low o'er her forehead, white as Lapland fnow,
Her auburn locks in fweet disorder flow,

Nature's foft hands th' untortur'd curls adjust,
Unftain'd with perfum'd grease and colour'd duft;
On her foft cheek the blush of morning glows,
Her ruby lip reveals two pearly rows,
Her bofom, half uncover'd, brings to view
Such tints as TITIAN'S pencil never knew;
While every speaking feature feems to fhine
With peace ferene, and purity divine.'

Though the performance before us may not be confidered as exhibiting any very ftriking marks of original genius, or of powerful exertion, it is, at leaft, entitled to the praise of being elegant and poetical; and the verfification, though in many places careless, and in few highly polished, is, as the Reader may perceive by the extract, smooth and harmonious.

ART.