A salmon's belly, Helluo, was thy fate; The doctor call'd, declares all help too late : 'Mercy!' cries Helluo, mercy on my soul! 240 Is there no hope ?—Alas !—Then bring the jowl.' The frugal crone, whom praying priests attend, Still tries to save the hallow'd taper's end; Collects her breath, as ebbing life retires, For one puff more, and in that puff expires..

Odious! in woollen ! 'twould a saint provoke!' Were the last words that poor Narcissa* spoke : 'No, let a charming chintz and Brussels lace Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face: One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead :

And-Betty +-give this cheek a little red.'

250

The courtier smooth, who forty years had shined A humble servant to all human-kind,

Just brought out this, when scarce his tongue could stir :

'If, where I'm going, I could serve you, sir?' 'I give and I devise,' old Euclio said,

And sigh'd, my lands and tenements to Ned.' Your money, sir?- My money, sir! what, all? Why, -if I must-(then wept) I give it Paul.' I The manor, sir !-The manor hold,' he cried; 'Not that, I cannot part with that; ' and died. And you, brave Cobham! to the latest breath, Shall feel your ruling passion strong in death: Such in those moments as in all the past ;'O, save my country, Heaven!' shall be your last.

* Mrs. Oldfield, the celebrated actress.

Mrs. Saunders, an actress.

The words of Sir William Bateman in his last moments.

EPISTLE II.

OF THE CHARACTERS OF WOMEN.

TO A LADY.*

ARGUMENT.

Of the characters of women only, as contradistinguished from the other sex. That these are yet more inconsistent and incomprehensible than those of men, of which instances are given, even from such characters as are plainest and most strongly marked; as in the affected, ver. 7 to 21. The soft-natured, v. 29 to 37. The whimsical, v. 53 to 86. The wits and refiners, v. 87. The stupid and silly, v. 101. The capricious and passionate, v. 115. The decent and cold, v. 157. How contrarieties run through them all. But though the particular characters of this sex are more various than those of men, the general characteristic, as to the ruling passion, is more uniform and confined. In what that lies, and whence it proceeds, v. 207. Men are best known in public life, women in private, v. 215. What are the aims and the fate of the sex, both as to power and pleasure, v. 219. Advice for their true interest, v. 257. The picture of an estimable woman, made up of the best kind of contrarieties, v. 269, &c.

NOTHING SO true as what you once let fall;-
'Most women have no characters at all.'
Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear;
And best distinguish'd by black, brown, or fair.
How many pictures of one nymph we view,
All how unlike each other, all how true!
Arcadia's countess, here, in ermined pride,
Is there, Pastora by a fountain side:

Here Fannia, leering on her own good man;
And there, a naked Leda with a swan.

10

Miss Martha Blount. (See note of Pope's Epistle to Mr. Jervas.)

Her tongue bewitch'd as oddly as her eyes;
Less wit than mimic, more a wit than wise.
Strange graces still, and stranger flights she had;
Was just not ugly, and was just not mad;
Yet ne'er so sure our passion to create,

As when she touch'd the brink of all we hate.
Narcissa's nature, tolerably mild,

*

50

60

To make a wash, would hardly stew a child;
Has e'en been proved to grant a lover's prayer,
And paid a tradesman once to make him stare;
Gave alms at Easter in a Christian trim,
And made a widow happy for a whim.
Why then declare good-nature is her scorn,
When 'tis by that alone she can be borne?
Why pique all mortals, yet affect a name?
A fool to pleasure, yet a slave to fame :
Now deep in Taylor and the Book of Martyrs,†
Now drinking citron with his grace and Chartres:
Now conscience chills her, and now passion burns,
And atheism and religion take their turns:
A very heathen in the carnal part;
Yet still a sad, good Christian at her heart.
See sin in state, majestically drunk ;
Proud as a peeress, prouder as a punk;
Chaste to her husband, frank to all beside;
A teeming mistress, but a barren bride.
What then? let blood and body bear the fault;
Her head's untouch'd, that noble seat of thought:
Such this day's doctrine: in another fit
She sins with poets through pure love of wit.
What has not fired her bosom or her brain?
Cæsar and Tall-boy, Charles and Charlemagne.
As Helluo, late dictator of the feast,
The nose of haut goût, and the tip of taste,
Critiqued your wine, and analysed your meat,
Yet on plain pudding deign'd at home to eat ;-

The Duchess of Hamilton here intended.

70

80

Jeremy Taylor's "Holy Living and Dying;" Foxe's Book of Martyrs."

A character in a play called 'The Jovial Crew.'

So Philomedé,* lecturing all mankind
On the soft passion, and the taste refined,
The address, the delicacy,-stoops at once,
And makes her hearty meal upon a dunce.

Flavia's a wit; has too much sense to pray: To toast our wants and wishes, is her way; Nor asks of God, but of her stars, to give The mighty blessing, While we live, to live.' 90' Then all for death, that opiate of the soul! Lucretia's dagger, Rosamonda's bowl.

6

Say, what can cause such impotence of mind?
A spark too fickle, or a spouse too kind.

Wise wretch! with pleasures too refined to please;
With too much spirit to be e'er at ease;
With too much quickness ever to be taught;
With too much thinking to have common thought;
You purchase pain with all that joy can give,
And die of nothing but a rage to live.

100

Turn then from wits, and look on Simo's mate; No ass so meek, no ass so obstinate:

Or her, that owns her faults, but never mends, Because she's honest, and the best of friends: Or her, whose life the church and scandal share, For ever in a passion or a prayer:

6

Or her, who laughs at hell, but, like her grace,+ Cries, Ah! how charming if there's no such place!' Or who in sweet vicissitude appears,

110

Of mirth and opium, ratafia and tears,
The daily anodyne, and nightly draught,
To kill those foes to fair ones, time and thought.
Woman and fool are two hard things to hit ;
For true no-meaning puzzles more than wit.

But what are these to great Atossa's mind?
Scarce once herself, by turns all womankind!
*Henrietta, daughter of the celebrated Duchess of
Marlborough, probably here intended.

The Duchess of Montague, Lady Mary Churchill.

The old Duchess of Marlborough. It is said she gave Pope £1,000 to suppress this character, and that he received the money, and then published it:-a story apparently without any foundation.