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And, as old Pliny's writings show,
Apelles did the same at Co.
Agreed these points of time and place,
Proceed we in the present case.

Piqued by Protogenes's fame,
From Co to Rhodes Apelles came,
To see a rival and a friend,
Prepap'd to censure, or commend;
Here to absolve, and there object,
As art with candour might direct.
He sails, he lands, he comes, he rings;
His servants follow with the things:
Appears the governante o' th' house,
For such in Greece were much in use;
If young or handsome, yea or no,
Concerns not me or thee to know.
* Does 'Squire Protogenes live here?-
“Yes, sir, (says she, with gracious air,
And curt’sy low) but just call'd out
By lords peculiarly devout,
Who came on purpose, sir, to borrow
Our Venus, for the feast to-morrow,
To grace the church : 'tis Venus' day:
I hope, sir, you intend to stay
To see our Venus : 'tis the piece
The most renown'd throughout all Greece;
So like the original, they say ;
But I have no great skill that way.
But, sir, at six, ('tis now past three)
Dromo must make my master's tea:
At six, sir, if you please to come,
You'll find my master, sir, at home.'

Tea, says a critic, big with laughter, Was found some twenty ages


Authors, before they write, shuuld read. 'Tis very true ; but we'll proceed. * And, sir, at present would you please To leave your name'— Fair maiden, yes : Reach me that board.' No sooner spoke But done. With one judicious stroke On the plain ground Apelles drew A circle regularly true. . And will you please, Sweetheart,' said he, *To shew your master this from me? By it he presently will know How painters write their names at Co.'

He gave the pannel to the maid :
Smiling, and curt'sying, “Sir,' she said,
'I shall not fail to tell my master:
And, sir, for fear of all disaster,
I'll keep it my own self: Safe bind,
Says the old proverb, and safe find.
So, sir, as sure as key or lock-
Your servant, sir-at six a clock.'

Again at six Apelles came,
Found the same prating civil dame:

Sir, that my master has been here,
Will by the board itself appear:
If from the perfect line he found,
He has presum'd to swell the round,
Or colours on the draught to lay,
'Tis thus (he ordered me to say)
Thus write the painters of this isle ;
Let those of Co remark the style.'

She said : and to his hand restor'd
The rival pledge, the missive board.
Upon the happy line were laid
Such obvious light and easy shade,


That Paris' apple stood confess'd,
Or Leda's egg, or Chloe's breast.

Apelles view'd the finish'd piece;
' And live,' said he, 'the arts of Greece!
Howe'er Protogenes and I
May in our rival talents vie ;
Howe'er our works may have express’d
Who truest drew, or colour'd best;
When he beheld my flowing line,
He found, at least, I could design ;
And from his artful round, I grant,
That he with perfect skill can paint.'

The dullest genius cannot fail To find the moral of my Tale ; That the distinguish'd part of men, With compass, pencil, sword, or pen, Should in life's visit leave theit name In characters, which may proclaim That they with ardour strove to raise At once their art's and country's praise ; And in their working took great care That all was full, and round, and fair.


Hans Carvel, impotent and old,
Married a lass of London mould:
Handsome enough; extremely gay:
Lov'd music, company, and play:
High flights she had, and wit at will,
And so her tongue lay seldom still;

For in all visits who but she
To argue or to repartee?

She made it plain that human passion
Was order'd by predestination;
That if weak women went astray,
Their stars were more in fault than they.
Whole tragedies she had by heart;.
Enter'd into Roxana's part;
To triumph in her rival's blood,
The action certainly was good.
How like a vine young Ammon curld!
Oh, that dear conqueror of the world!
She pitied Betterton in age,
That ridicul'd the godlike rage.

She, first of all the Town, was told Where newest India things were sold; So in a morning, without bodice, Slipt sometimes out to Mrs. Thody's To cheapen tea, to buy a screen; What else could so much virtue mean? For, to prevent the least reproach, Betty went with her in the coach.

But when no very great affair Excited her peculiar care, She without fail was wak'd at ten, Drank chocolate, then slept again : At twelve she rose; with much ado Her clothes were huddled on by two: Then, 'does my lady dine at home?' • Yes, sure ;--but is the Colonel come?' Next, how to spend the afternoon, And not come home again too soon; The 'Change, the city, or the play, As each was proper for the day;

A turn in summer to Hyde-Park,
When it grew tolerably dark.

Wife's pleasure causes husband's pain ;
Strange fancies come in Hans's brain :
He thought of what he did not name,
And would reform, but durst not blame.
At first he, therefore, preach'd his wife
The comforts of a pious life;
Told her how transient beauty was ;
That all must die, and flesh was grass :
He bought her sermons, psalms, and graces,
And doubled down the useful places :
But still the weight of worldly care
Allow'd her little time for pray'r;
And Cleopatra* was read o’er,
While Scot,t and Wake, and twenty more,
That teach one to deny one's self,
Stood unmolested on the shelf.
An untouch'd Bible grac'd her toilet.
No fear that thumb of her's should spoil it.
In short, the trade was still the same ;
The Dame went out, the Colonel came.
• What's to be done?' poor Carvel cried ;
* Another battery must be tried :
What if to spells I had recourse?
'Tis but to hinder something worse.
The end must justify the means;
He only sins who ill intends :
Since, therefore, 'tis to combat evil,
'Tis lawful to employ the devil.'

* A novel, much read by the ladies at that time.
+ Dr. John Scot, author of the Christian Life.

Dr. William Wake, Archbishop of Canterbury.

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