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showers,

ToApril's noon-tide fun, ftern winter yields; Then teems the earth with herbs and fruits and flow'rs;

Spontaneous rifing o'er the verdant fields. Juft fo the fpring of life-the heedlefs boy, No longer by the pedagogue confin'd Culls all the fweets of each fantastic joy,

As youthful fancy prompts his giddy mind. Life's fummer next comes on, whofe genial heat

Invigorates the mind, inflames the blood; Bids every pulfe with longing ardour beat, And drowns the fenfes in corruption's flood.

Hence inclination reafon's pow'r 'defies; We freely taste the joys of wine and love; Hence Rows difeafe - hence peccant paffions rife,

Which even penitence can fcarce remove. O! may our follies, like the fading trees,

Be ftript of every leaf by autumn's wind; May every branch of vice embrace the breeze, And nothing leave but virtue's fruit behind.

appear,

Then, when old-age life's winter fhall In confcious hope, all future ills we'll [brave With fortitude our diffolution bear,

And fink forgotten in the filent grave. But not to us the renovating fpring,

Our former health and vigour can restore; In vain the feafons all their bleffings bring, We never, never can enjoy them more. Liverpool, 7th December, 1769.

The Acknowledgement of the DELICATE
COMPLAINT.
I.

ARK! how the fweet echo refounds:
The fighs of foft love reach my ear 5
With joy my fond heart now rebounds!
A voice that's well known 'tis I hear!
II.

"Tis fhe, whom my mind fill beholds,

Now chaunts her complaint in yon wood-
That verfe her fond paflion unfolds, art
And bids me be conftant and good.
Ill.

What delicate meafures, my fair,
Defcribe your more delicate grief;
Enticing me (loft in defpair!)
To come and afford you relief!
IV.

Wherever you think of your fwain,

By fountain, on hill, or in grove, You fore will his meaning explain,

Who fings both from forrow and love.

M

On reading Mrs. MACAULAY's Hißay of England.

O Albion's bards, the Mufe of biftory

I spoke ;

How her brave fons the bonds of flavery broke, Record the glories of your native land, And pow'r's fell red tore from th' oppreffor's hand.

Give to renown the patriot's noble deeds, Brand with difgrace the tyrant's hated

name;

Tho' falfehood oft' awhile the mind misleads,
Impartial time beftows impartial fame.
She faid, and foon the lofty lyre they ftrung
But, artful, chang'd the fubject and the
lore,
[fung,
Applause of courts and courtly flaves they
But touch'd on freedom's genuine notes no

more.

The fervile ftrain, the Muse indignant heard,

Anxious for truth, for public virtue warm, She, freedom's faithful advocate, appear'd, Assumed on earth the fair Macaulay's form.

PROLOGUE

To the New Comedy of the BROTHERS, Spoken by Mr. SMITH.

VARIOUS the fhifts of authors now-zdays,

VAR

For operas, farces, pantomimes, and plays;
Some fcour each alley of the town for wit,
Plunge in each cellar, tumble ev'ry ftall,
Begging from door to door the offal bit;
And foud, like taylors, to each house of call;
Gut every novel, Atrip each monthly mufe,
And pillage Poet's corner for its news:
And fet their dish of fcraps before the town j
That done, they melt the ftale farrago down,
Boldly invite you to the pilfer'd ftore,
Cram you, then wonder you can eat no more.

Ranfack the tombs of the illuftrious dead;
Some in our English claffics deeply read,
Hackney the mufe of Shakespeare o'er and
o'er,
(gore.

From thoulder to the flank, all drenchid ia Others to foreign climes and kingdoms

roam;

To fearch for what is better found at home: The recreant bard, oh! fcandal to the age! Gleans the vile refuse of a Gallic stage.

Not fo, our bard-To night he bids me fay,

You shall receive and judge an English play.
From no man's jeft he draws felonious praife,
Nor from his neighbour's garden crops his
bays;

From his own breast the filial flory flows;
And the free fcene no foreign master knows:
Nor only tenders you his work as new;
He hopes 'tis good, or would not give it you:
True homely ware, and made of homely ftuff,
Right British drugget, honeft, warm, and
rough.

No

W

EPILOGUE,
Spoken by Mrs. YATES.

THO but has seen the celebrated ftrife,
Where Reynolds calls the canvass in-
to life;

And, 'twixt the tragic and the comic muse,
Courted of both, and dubious where to chufe,
Th'immortal actor ftands? - Here we efpy
An awful figure pointing to the sky;

A grave,fublime, commanding form the bears;
And in her zone an unsheath'd dagger wears.
On t'other fide, with fweet attractive mien,
The playful mufe of comedy is feen:
She, with a thousand foft, bewitching miles,
Mistress of love, his yielding heart beguiles;
[For where's the heart fo harden'd to with-
ftand

The fond compulfion of so fair a hand]
Oh! would the here beftow thofe winning

arts!

This night we'd fix herempire in your hearts;
No tragic paffions fhould deface the age,
But all fhould catch good humour from the
Lage:

The forming husband, and imperious wife,
Should learn the doctrine of a quiet life;
[The plodding drudge should here at times
refort,

And leave his ftupid club and stummy port;]
The penfive politician who forefees
Clouds, ftorms, and tempefts, in the calms of
peace;

The fcribbling tribe, who vent their angry
Spleens
[zines ;
In fongs, prints, pamphlets, papers, maga-
Lucius and Anti-Lucius, Pros and Cons,
The lift of Placets and of Placet-nons;
The mobbing vulgar, and the ruling great,
And all who ftorm and all who steer the ftate;
Here fhould forget the labours of the day,

And laugh their cares and their complaints

away:

645

more,

What prayers for you will wing their way to heav'n,

What frailties-if you have them-be forgiv'n? [raife,

Each hardy fon, whom this night's alms fhall
Will, to Great-Britain, confecrate his days,

Her arts, her commerce, or domain extend,
Or force her haughty enemies to bend ;
Whilft the fair daughters of this genial day
Shall ferve their country-in a gentler way;
If doom'd as humble fpinters to grow old,
Will fpin our envy'd fleeces into gold;
If wedded, fhall, with Hymen's magic chain,
From foreign climes our artifans restrain,
From foreign climes recal the wond'ring tar,
With hearts of oak fupply the wafte of war,
And, with fons fons, enrich our future ftore,
Till time, and this great empire are no more.
[Bell rings.

But lo the laughing muse comes tripping

on,

And, by her herald, warns me to be gone;
Yet hence be this great moral understood,
That private virtue leads to public good.

EPILOGUE,

Spoken at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, Wednefd y, Dec. 14, for the Benefit of the City of London Lying-in Hofpital, Alderfgate-fireet.

I Speak an epilogue, mafters! old and lame; Spare me, your honours, I fhall die with shame!

In fuch a trim too, 'fore the board t'appear
Well, Lobey; behold your matron here!
Why do the gentry laugh? at me I trow-
We poor old folks are always laugh'd at now;
If we fall down, 'tis a good jeft, you cry,
'Tis only an old woman, let her lie; >
Not one young man to help us up, or fay
A civil thing in a good-natur'd way;
But to your mem'ry I could times produce,
When we old women are of no small ufe
Let the gout pinch, you freely draw the purse,
And then I'm comely! tender! Mrs Nurse!
When you get well, you change this gentle
Arain,

'Tis damn the old woman! oh! ungrateful men!
4 N
1, who

646

I, who with fo much tenderness and care
Have nurs'd and dandled many a peevish keir;
Ladies and lords bave flept upon this lap,
And the first captain here has (wallow'd pap:
But I forgot what I was fent to fay---
Our hofpital, the caufe of this fine play,
Was near a ground, good fire, without your
aid;

Our butcher, baker, grocer, ftill unpaid;'
For our good mafters never can fay nay,
Nor fend one poor big-bellied wretch away;
'Tis a small place, but all is good and plain,
We leave great houfes to the rich and vain.
Oh! Ladies, come and fee it for my fake,
And deign to take the caudle which I make;
Did you but fee the bleffings you create,
And the fweet babes fo healthy and fo neat!
You'd not repent the money you bestow,
But add fresh help to fuch pathetic woe.

To the PRINTER, &c. SIR,

IN

N many of your effays you have given inconteftible proofs of your folicitude for the happiness of your fair readers, and juftly pointed out the barbarity of thofe libertines, who under the fpecious mask of attachment, labour incefiantly to feduce the unreflecting of the fofter fex, from the principles of virtue.-Documents of this mature delivered with an air of familiarity and elegance, feem, in my opinion, much better calculated to awake the attention of the ladies, than the most elaborate difcourfes from the pulpit.-Reafon itfelf is difregarded when we fee it unfashionably cloathed the aufterity befides with which the majority of our preachers inculcate lef fons of rectitude, materially prejudices the precepts they wish to enforce, and they never once, fee the neceffity of engaging our very pride, to advance the interests of morality.

I am very far, fir, from intending to become an advocate for licentioufnefs, yet I feldom meet with a hiftory of feduction, in which I do not find the woman principally in fault.—The views of our libertines generally confidered, fir, are fo obvious, and their arts fo palpable, that it requires neither depth of understanding, nor acquaintance with the world, to deted them. Whenever a lady is folicited by a lover to violate the minuteft particle of propriety, ought the not to be alarmed? Ought he not to recoltect, that the man who means honourably can have no improper requests to make; that her reputation must be infeparably connected with his, and that if he really wishes to have her a partner for life, he will be tremblingly alive even to the very appearances of her character.

When this reflection is fo evidently natural, even in matters of the lead confe

Dec.

quence, what muft we fay of the lady who calmly liftens to a lover, while he urges the most daring, the moft crimi nal of all faits, and reafons with him philofophically upon the danger of indulging him-puts him off at one heur,and hears his grofs importunity the next-receives his vifits while his purpofe is avowedly unwairantable, and imagines fhe is a miracle of purity, because the does not plunge into sâteal proftitution. A woman who acts in this manner, is her own destroyer, if at laft deftroyed. When the fees the impending ruin, why does the not fenfibly avoid it at once! Why does not the fpurn the libertine from her prefence, at his first attempt to make her infamous? Why does not the banis him everlastingly from her fight? Her peace and honour alike demand this prudent procedure, this generous indignation at her hands, If the acts a contrary part, does the not invite him to perfift? Does not the be tray a meanness, a depravity of mind, that gives a colour to his pursuits, and is the not confequently her own undoer, as I have already faid, whenever the is undone?

It is matter of frequent wonder among the ladies, fir, when a man has experienced a woman's fondness at the price of her ruin, that he should in a little time both difefterm and defert her. So far, however, is dis from being extraordinary in the men, that the wonder would really be, their behaving in any other manner. Have they not received indubitable proofs of the woman's turpitude, who has been criminal with themfelves? Have they not experienced the profligacy of her principles, and can they think of regarding her any longer? Efterm is that tribute of veneration which we pay only to worth; we cannot give it to the worthlefs if we would; when therefore a lady forfeits her title to our esteem, the quickly forfeits her claim to our affection: The argument of having been criminal on our account, may excite our pity, but cannot extenuate her guilt; and as the flame of love must be kept alive by the elevated fire of concurring minds, the torch muft be speedily extinguifhed, which is kindled only by the tranfitory circumftance of parion. As the lofs of the lover then, the lois of the very object for whofe fake the laws of honour are shamefully facrificed, is the certain confequence of the crime, why will not the actual paffion which leads our beautiful delinquents into vice, preferve them more fre quently within the limits of virtue? Why will they part with reputation, to give up the man, whom they would die to preferve; and entail perpetual infamy upon their names, to plant perpetual daggers in their breasts?

But there is yet a species of encouragement given by the ladies to the defigning of our fex, br, which, though glaring in its nature, is

feldem