All who approach them their own ends pursue;
Lovers and ministers are seldom true.

Hence oft from Reason heedless Beauty strays,
And the most trusted guide the most betrays :
Hence, by fond dreams of fancied power amus'd,
When most you tyrannize, you're most abus'd.

What is your sex's earliest, latest care,
Your heart's supreme ambition?—To be fair.
For this, the toilet ev'ry thought employs,
Hence all the toils of dress, and all the joys:
For this, hands, lips, and eyes, are put to school,
And each instructed feature has it's rule:
And yet how few have learnt, when this is giv'n,
Not to disgrace the partial boon of Heav'n!
How few with all their pride of form can move!
How few are lovely, that are made for love!
Do you, my fair, endeavour to possess
An elegance of mind as well as dress.;
Be that your ornament, and know to please
By graceful Nature's unaffected ease.

Nor make to dangerous wit a vain pretence,
But wisely rest content with modest sense;
For wit, like wine, intoxicates the brain,
Too strong for feeble woman to sustain :

Of those who claim it, more than half have none;
And half of those who have it are undone.

Be still superior to your sex's arts,

Nor think dishonesty a proof of parts:
For you, the plainest is the wisest rule:
A cunning woman is a knavish fool.

Seek to be good, but aim not to be great:
A woman's noblest station is retreat;
Her fairest virtues fly from public sight,
Domestic worth, that shuns too strong a light.

To rougher man Ambition's task resign: 'Tis ours in senates or in courts, to shine, To labour for a sunk, corrupted state, Or dare the rage of Envy, and be great. One only care your gentle breasts should move, Th' important business of your life is love; To this great point direct your constant aim, This makes your happiness, and this your fame. Be never cool reserve with passion join'd; With caution choose; but then be fondly kind. The selfish heart, that but by halves is giv❜n, Shall find no place in Love's delightful heav'n ; Here sweet extremes alone can truly bless: The virtue of a lover is excess.

A maid unask'd may own a well-plac'd flame; Not loving first, but loving wrong, is shame. Contemn the little pride of giving pain, Nor think that conquest justifies disdain. Short is the period of insulting pow'r: Offended Cupid finds his vengeful hour; Soon will resume the empire which he gave, And soon the tyrant shall become the slave,

Blest is the maid, and worthy to be blest,
Whose soul, entire by him she loves possess'd,
Feels ev'ry, vanity in foudness, lost,

And asks no pow'r, but that of pleasing most:
Hers is the bliss, in just return, to prove
The honest warmth of undissembled love;
For her, inconstant man might cease to range,
And gratitude forbid, desire to change.

But, lest harsh care the lovers peace destroy,
And roughly blight the tender buds of joy,
Let Reason teach what Passion fain would hide,
That Hymen's bands by Prudence should be tied,

Venus in vain the wedded pair would crown,
If angry fortune on their union frown :

Soon will the flatt'ring dream of bliss be o❜er,
And cloy'd imagination cheat no more.
Then, waking to the sense of lasting pain,
With mutual tears the nuptial couch they stain;
And that fond love, which should afford relief,
Does but increase the anguish of their grief:
While both could easier their own sorrows bear,
Than the sad knowledge of each other's care.

Yet may you rather feel that virtuous pain,
Than sell your violated charms for gain;
Than wed the wretch, whom you despise or hate,
For the vain glare of useless wealth or state.

E'en in the happiest choice, where fav'ring Heav'n Has equal love and easy fortune giv❜n, Think not, the husband gain'd, that all is done: The prize of happiness must still be won : And oft, the careless find it to their cost, The lover in the husband may be lost. The Graces might alone his heart allure; They and the Virtues meeting must secure.

Let e'en your prudence wear the pleasing dress Of care for him, and anxious tenderness. From kind concern about his weal or wo, Let each domestic duty seem to flow. The household sceptre if he bids you bear, Make it your pride his servant to appear: Endearing thus the common acts of life, The mistress still shall charm him in the wife; And wrinkled age shall unobserv'd come on, Before his eye perceives one beauty gone; E'en o'er your cold, your ever sacred urn, His constant flame shall unextinguish'd burn.

Thus I, Belinda, would your charms improve,
And form your heart to all the arts of love.
The task were harder, to secure my own
Against the pow'r of those already known:
For well you twist the secret chains, that bind
With gentle force the captivated mind,
Skill'd ev'ry soft attraction to employ,
Each flatt'ring hope, and each alluring joy;
I own your genius, and from you receive
The rules of pleasing, which to you I give.

LORD LYTTLEton.

GOVERNMENT OF THE TEMPER. PEEVISHNESS, though not so violent and fatal in it's immediate effects, is still more unamiable than passion, and, if possible, more destructive of happiness, inasmuch as it operates more continually. Though the fretful man injures us less, he disgusts us more than the passionate one, because he betrays a low and little mind, intent on trifles, and engrossed by a paltry self love; which knows not how to bear the very apprehension of any inconvenience. It is self-love, then, which we must combat, when we find ourselves assaulted by this infirmity; and, by voluntarily enduring inco: eniences, we shall habituate ourselves to bear them with ease and good humour, when occasioned by others. Perhaps this is the best kind of religious mortification, as the chief end of denying ourselves any innocent indulgences must be to acquire a habit of command over our passions and inclinations, particularly such as are likely to lead us into evil. And though the aged and infirm are most liable to this evil (and they alone are to be pitied for it); yet we sometimes see the young, the healthy, and those who enjoy most outward blessings, inexcusably guilty of it. Ꭰ

The smallest disappointment in pleasure, or difficulty in the most trifling employment, will put wilful young people out of temper; and their very amusements frequently become sources of vexation and peevishness. How often have I seen a girl, preparing for a ball, or for some other public appearance, unable to satisfy her own vanity, fret over every ornament she put on, quarrel with her maid, with her clothes, her hair; and, growing still more unlovely as she grew more cross, be ready to fight with her looking-glass for not making her as handsome as she wished to be! She did not consider, that the traces of this ill humour on her countenance would be a greater disadvantage to her appearance, than any defect in her dress, or even than the plainest features, enlivened by joy and good humour. There is a degree of resignation necessary even to the enjoyment of pleasure; we 'must be ready and willing to give up some part of what 'we could wish for, before we can enjoy that which is indulged to us. I have no doubt, that she, who frets all the while she is dressing for an assembly, will suffer still *greater uneasiness when she is there. The same craving,

restless vanity will there endure a thousand mortifications, which, in the midst of seeming pleasure, will secretly corrode her heart; while the meek and humble generally find more gratification than they expected, and return home pleased and enlivened from every scene of amusement, though they could have staid away from it with perfect ease and contentment. MRS. CHAPONE.

INSUFFICIENCY OF BEAUTY.

SAY why are beauties prais'd and honour'd most,
The wise man's passion, and the vain man's toast?
Why deck'd with all that land and sea afford,
Why angels call'd, and angel like ador'd?