The answer which the countess makes to the above, is rather more exquisite than the lines of Mr. Pope; he is foil'd at his own weapons, and outdone in the elegance of compliment.
Disarm'd with so genteel an air,
The contest I give o'er;
Yet Alexander have a care,
And shock the sex no more.
We rule the world our life's whole race,
Men but assume that right;
First slaves to ev'ry tempting face,
Then martyrs to our spite.
You of one Orpheus sure have read,
Who would like you have writ
Had he in London-town been bred,
And polish'd too his wit;
But he poor soul, thought all was well
And great should be his fame,
When he had left his wife in hell
And birds, and beasts could tame.
Yet venturing then with scoffing rhimes
The women to incense,
Resenting heroines of those times
Soon punished his offence.
And as the Hebrus roll'd his skull,
And Harp besmeared with blood,
They clashing as the waves grew full
Still harmoniz'd the flood.
But you our follies gently treat,
And spin so fine the thread,
You need not fear his awkward fate,
The lock won't cost the head.
Our admiration you command
For all that's gone before;
What next we look for at your hand
Can only raise it more.
Yet sooth the ladies, I advise
(As me too pride has wrought)
We're born to wit, but to be wise
By admonitions taught.
The other pieces of this lady are,
An Epilogue to Jane Shore, to be spoken by Mrs. Oldfield the night before the Poet's day.
To the Countess of Hertford with her Volume of Poems.
The Prodigy, a Poem, written at Tunbridge-Wells 1706, on the Admiration that many expressed on a Gentleman's being in love, and their Endeavours to dissuade him from it, with some Advice to the young Ladies how to maintain their natural Prerogative. If all her other poetical compositions are executed with as much spirit and elegance as these, the lovers of poetry have some reason to be sorry that her station was such, as to exempt her from the necessity of more frequently exercising a genius so furnished by nature, to have made a great figure in that divine art.
* * * * *
CHARLES GILDON.
This gentleman was born at Gillingham near Shaftsbury, in the county of Dorset. His parents, and family were all of the Romish persuasion, but they could not instil their principles into our author, who, as soon as he began to reason, was able to discover the errors, and foppery of that church. His father was a member of the society of Grays-Inn, and suffered much for the Royal cause. The first rudiments of learning Mr. Gildon had at the place of his nativity; thence his relations sent him to the English college of secular priests at Doway in Hainault, with a design of making him a priest; but after five years study there, he found his inclination direct him to a quite different course of life. When he was nineteen years old he returned to England, and as soon as he was of age, and capable of enjoying the pleasures of gaiety, he came to London, where he spent the greatest part of his paternal estate. At about the age of twenty-three, to crown his other imprudences, he married, without improving his reduced circumstances thereby.
During the reign of King James II. he dedicated his time to the study of the prevailing controversies, and he somewhere declares, it cost him above seven years close application to books, before he could entirely overcome the prejudices of his education. He never believed the absurd tenets of the church of Rome; nor could he embrace the ridiculous doctrine of her infallibility: But as he had been taught an early reverence to the priesthood, and a submissive obedience to their authority, it was a long while before he assumed courage to think freely for himself, or declare what he thought.