********************START OF HEADER******************** This text has been proofread but is not guaranteed to be free from errors. Corrections to the original text have been left in place. Title: Female Piety and Virtue, an electronic edition Author: Anonymous Publisher: Place published: Date: ********************END OF HEADER******************** Female Piety, &c.VIRTUE or piety is all a cheat,In womankind nothing but rank deceit;A bait pretence, or necessary tool,To gull the fond and unexperienc'd fool;Like patch, or paint, 'tis artfully design'dTo hide, or cover the defective mind;AsAs bragadoceos seldom dare to fight,As fops are never perfectly polite;So they, who virtue and religion boast,Are consequently those that need them most.>But lo! some fop for their defence preparesAnd thus his fond impertinence declares:'Hold, Sir! 'tis most ungen'rous thus to vex,'With foul aspersions, the defenceless sex;'Be not on helpless innocence severe;'Let what you say sufficiently appear,'And make your railing by your reason clear.''What'What you require, sufficiently I'll do,'Sweet Sir! by reason, by example too;'To shew I follow justice more than spite,'I will not wrong them, but I'll do them right,'And set their actions in a proper light.'Jezabel, Messalina, hundreds more,Each well recorded, barefac'd, brazen whoreI'll rudely pass and gently turn to thoseWho wou'd more gravely on the world impose;To those, whom virtue or religious prideCov'ring, wou'd hypocritically hide;Unconscionable jades! who lov'd the game;And wou'd have all the joy--without the blame.I'llI'll slightly pass th' Ephesian matron too,Who chose (what any woman else wou'd do)A lusty living lover to preferBefore a husband in his sepulcher:Beside, for charity she took him in,And charity was never thought a sin;It was a very cold and stormy night,The lady was in a prodigious fright,Yet only yielded to a man of might;Who many bloody battles had endur'd,And was, perhaps, to victory Inur'd,What wonder then, the helpless Dame was won!Enfeebled by the penance she had done!Such things, I say, I'll pass regardless by,As trifles, matters of mere raillery;ButBut mention those of whom kind rumour tellsFar better things, and calls such miracles!To whom some others fitly I'll subjoin,That in full lustre their renown may shine.The world (that from appearances still drawsConclusions; nor considers well the cause)The puny violated Roman dameHas rashly crown'd with everlasting fame,Because she was so desperately nice:Sure her complexion was as cold as ice,Or Tarquin was as ugly as a bear,And not so fit to tempt her as to snare;0r else he took her in a moody veinWhen spleen her heart and vapours seiz'd her brain;AndAnd then the lady (past redemption ill)Her precious blood might meer madness spillBecause the filthy ruffian cross'd her will.(For willfulness sincerely they adore,Not all their valu'd charms they rev'rence more )But had she in a proper humour been,Easy and free, and on a merry pin;Had her plump veins been fill'd with vigorous fire,And the gallant well answer'd her desire;Had she (the deed committed) still been sureHer reputation wou'd no blot endure;TheThe resolute, the celebrated brideHad kill'd herself------before she had deny'd!But, some admiring fops, with hands and eyesUplifted; raise Susanna to the skies!Because she bravely stood, nor basely fellBy------ two old fumblers whom they hate as hell;But had these been two young robust'ous men,Oh! rare Susanna! where hadst thou, been then?And yet the lady, might have been afraidTheir indiscretion, had her fame betray'd:(For youngsters, as 'tis known, in such a case,Have too much vanity, too little grace)SheShe might have thought the place to publick eyesToo much expos'd, and fear'd more lurking spies :But had all things united well t'assureSuch sparks were secret, and the place--secure;To have withdrawn, and made a cold excuse,That then alone cou'd have been thought abuse:Thus, in despight of what the weak believe,(Whom still appearance and pretence deceive)As in a faithful mirrour may be seen,What the most famous were, or would have been.ThenThen let us leave what ancient records tell,Remarking what in later times befel.Ev'n I, my self, have known a gentle dame (Of piety, and of unblemish'd fame)An honourable captain's gracious wife,(And whom she lov'd as dearly as her life,)Yet, him cou'd conscientiously abuse,Altho'without a visable excuse!For he with whom she did it (pass'd his prime)Was then declining in the race of time;Hunch-back'd, he was, bleer-ey'd, of tawny skin;Like a bent bow appear'd in his nose, and chin;His person yet less odious than his mind,The scorn jayls, and refuse of mankind!But 'twas his perfect want of merit mov'dHer heart, and that by sympathy she lov'd;OfOf all the various creatures upon earth,They most abhor-----a man of real, worth!I know another, (affable and free,And vers'd in argument and repartee),Who, having first}, by dint of reason foundConnubial blessings propagation crown'd;Did, in her lord's lamented absence, yieldTo try what virtues gentle Bath reveal'd(Bath, that with fertile qualities does flow,As many ladies by experience know)Thus, while her husband coasted wealthy Spain,Or cruising, search'd the rough, Atlantic main,While he, thro' danger, fame and riches sought,E'er to his home his purchases he brought;TheThe pious lady had the prudent care,Not to be unprovided-----of an heir!Two virgins once I knew, with beauty bless'd,(In grace and, virtue, far above, the rest)Who, as they once their pious progress made;Came, where by chance a Rochester was lay'd;They sternly vow'd the profligating bookWhich from the board, with seeming rage they took)That very instant shou'd receive its doom,In fire, in fire, as it deserv'd, consume!But in its stead, the silly juggling damesA common-prayer book hurl'd into the flames,And this (more priz'd) did carefully conceal,So much their l------y did surpass their zeal!SomeSome curious maids have found the gentle wayTo sooth their fancies with delicious play,And thus the raging, appetite allay;Each singly practices a double part,And nature's want supply's with libr'al art:'Tis th' early fruit of luscious boarding schools,And much more gather'd than instructive rules!Ye parents! whose more happy children stillAre undefil'd pray, pray, with ardent will,To keep them safe from this contagious ill:Not youths with wit, with beauty and estate,(Over the fell so prevalantly great!)TemptTempt female frailty with successful ease,Like the pernicious fellowship of these!I knew a beauteous and blooming maid,So much improv'd in this diverting trade,That, had she known man's longitude, as wellAs she each latitude cou'd tell;None cou'd, to copulate the sexes, beDistinguishably qualify'd as she.Now let us cast a view cross the main,Where ladies errant rove, for----love----or gain;Observe their actions there, nor think it strange,That there, alike untam'd desires shou'd range:Not clime nor distance inclination change!A laA lady fair, to wealthy India's shore,Her self and reputation carry'd o'erUnsoil'd, was proof to all that man cou'd do;Defy'd the captain, and his boist'rous crew:This valiant dame, engag'd in solemn vows,Became a splendid merchant's virtuous spouse;Her purpose thus obtain'd, the subtle brideCast her affected modesty aside,And chang'd her carriage, like the wind or tide!Resolv'd (of a commodity possess'd)To traffick there, as freely as the best;As they sought riches! she pursu'd delight;And came not thither to resign her right;Thus,Thus boldly dealt with country and with town,Op'ning her warehouse; yellow, black and brown,Goods of all colour, sort, and size went down:Her husband (finding nothing wou'd reclaim)In her own way indulg'd the liqu'rish dame;Yielded to her exorbitance of will,And vow'd to give her, if he cou'd, her fill;To this intent, he brought full twenty blacks,(Furnish'd with brawny limbs, and vig'rous backs)And firmly she withstood their brisk attacks;Nineteen encounter'd, and maintain'd, the field,And did but barely to the twenti'th yield.Oh!Oh! rampant, and triumphant British dame!How vast, as far extended, is thy fame!Confess'd by all, on Cormandellda's shore,The freest trader! and substantial'st w----re!He who wou'd know what women truly are,Must read them backward, like a witch's prayer;They're found the very opposite extreamOf what they pass for, and wou'd fainly seem:Here nature jugg'ling, shows her slight of hand,Which, who admires, must little understandThis makes them fond of fools; and loath at heartAll men of wit, of learning, and desert;Like batts and owls, they chuse the gloom of night,And ----fly, with unexpressible affright,From reason's clear, and well discov'ring light.NowNow let us take a short and general viewOf what they in religious matters do,When free from private aim, and publick fear,Unvail'd and undisguis'd their practices appear.But first into their close apartments steal,And there some secret mysteries reveal:Upon the furnish'd Toilet cast an eye,Where all in quaint promiscuous manner lyePaint, patches, and romance----and book of prayer,That they may seem alike precise and fair,And both devotion, and diversion share:Whenever they awake from dreaming o'erThe light occurrences that pass'd before,IfIf the preceeding night, they've lost at play,Or have been baulk'd of their expected prey,A gloomy discontent o'er-casts the day;Sunk are their graces, drooping are their airs;And the wrong way they mutter o'er their prayers:But if kind fortune, or their conqu'ring eyes,Has gain'd some gaudy beau, or golden prize,They then, well pleas'd, assume a sprightly mein,And in their most triumphant airs are seen;Pray that kind heav'n wound, in its mercy, stillAfford the pow'r to plunder, and to kill;Consult the fav'rite damsel, how to gainMore conquests; or, at least th' acquir'd maintain:While morning holds, before the instrutive glass,The serious hours, with pious care they pass;TillTill all the mass of dress, in order mov'd,The tempter is exaltedtaltod'ly improv'd;Till all is well adjusted, all made even,To correspond with earth, and h--ll, ---and heaven.Most, who are thought but tolerably fair,Frequent the church ----bait their behaviours there!----They shew, with modest zeal; their spruce attires;And each, submissively, her self admires!Ogles the croud, and whisp'rin, scatters blameOn ev'ry neighbour's dress, or face, or fame:'Tis made convenient, like a ball, or play,To pass unprofitable hours away;To plot, salute, to see, and to be seen;Or cure, by sleep, the vapours, or the spleen.SomeSome few, indeed, with more devotion, makeTheir progress thither--for the preacher's sake!Because the sacerdotal gown, he wears,Is fraud's or frailty's coverlet, like theirs;Because he, like themselves revenge, lust, luxury and prideIn its dark shadow copiously abide;Because he, like themselves, is light of thought,And infinitely better fed than taught;Because, by him, to the dull-headed rout,Faction is broach'd, and scandal thrown about.As of gallants, the very worn they chuse,The peaceful, meek, and well-dispos'd refuse;The soil, the stain, and scum of all the rest,Is, in their judgment, and their choice, the best.SomeSome go to church, with charitable mind,To pick up all reproachful ills they find;Fixt on the railing priest, with lear and grin,If he proclaims some erring mortal's sin,With open ears and mouth, they suck it in;Such things, I say, they most devoutly hear,And keep in heart with christian faith and fear;But if he union's sacred virtues tells,They then are hereticks! or infidelsIn Spain, where Moorish customs are maintain'd,And freedom is, thro' jealousy, restrain'd;The church is, by intriguing females, madeThe frequent mart of love's lascivious trade;WhitherWhither, some compact to commence, they range,And make the house of G---d the D-----l's exchange!But in our Britain, heretofore, might beThat wond'rous thing call'd female piety!When here in person dwelt the maid divine,And zealous matrons visited her shrine;When desp'rately holy dames; immur'd,In consecrated domes, their-toys secur'dTho' each of these precise viragoes, stillFound secret ways to gratify her will;The hooded monk and eke the cowled fryerOften accommodated her desire;For tho' free commerce with the world was stopp'd,And publick trade forbid---they interlop'd.Tho'Tho' this immurement was a vain pretence,Nor suited real piety, or sense!If woman (to celestial love inclin'd)To heav'n alone devotes her zealous mind;If with such--ardour thoroughly possess'd,If true seraphick raptures fire her breast,She has no cause seducing man to fear;No mortal is sufficient rival here;She may her duty, thus resolv'd, discharge,And be restrain'd, altho' she lives at large;But tho' close-pent, if fill'd with loose desires,What prison can restrain impetuous fires?Yet, not to take advantage of the crimesCommitted in the dusk of former times;I willI will, with curious, and impartial care,Slightly remark what modern zealots are.Many renounce the world upon constraint,And each, unwillingly, becomes a Saint!But few sincere devotion can surprize,And scarce prevails upon the rich, or wise;Few leave dear, pomp whose pompous things possess,Or sin abhor, who freely can transgress;These, these for worldly"wordly blessings only care;Why shou'd they waste their lives in fruitless prayer?Seek joys to come, who here enjoyments share?But wretched nymphs, whom cruel love has cross'd;Their maiden toys, or reputations loss'd;WhoWho are in mind, or body thus distress'dWhit weight of poverty (that's conscience) press'd;Helpless, alas! they're to devotion driven,and for the world unfit,---resign'd to heaven!If ever any voluntarily chuseTo catch themselves in this religious noose;Tis e'er the world's inviting joys they know,Before they subtle, or designing grow;Before temptation does its charms dispense;And then devout the genr'ous things commence,For want of appetite, or want of Sense.Well fare the merry rovers of the street,Who freely bite, and cully whom they meet;WhoWho make licentious reprobates their prey;More honest, more religious too are they,And act far more sincerely----in their way;They, satan's instruments, satan just,Break not, by contradicting deeds, their trust,But vilely these religion's law debase,Affront its author to his very faceAnd, the believer's easy faith to rule,Make heav'n it self their access'ary tool!Thus have I manifestly shewn their end,When virtue they, or piety pretend:In paradise, as Lucifer disguis'd,Man's innocence once fatally surpris'd;(To Eve the doctrine of delusion taughtE'er since improv'd with ever-zealous thought)TheThe lurking sex, by stratagems like theseUpon th' unknowing, or unguarded seize;In falshood thus their usurpation found,And gain dominion, or become-renown'd;Thus they triumphant grow, and thus rever'd,Thus women fight, and thus are to be fear'd.But did not men to slavish passion yieldHow easily might they maintain the field?With what assurance spurn at threat'ned harm?And scorn alike their practices, and charmst?That some of them are fair; I must confess,But is there not hypocrisy in dress?To falshood here, that they're reputed so,Say, do not much even the fairest owe?FalseFalse is their beauty, falshood is their trade;They seem for that, and for perdition made.How then can, such delusive toys as these,Allure the gen'rous? the discerning please?Our native right audaciously controul?And into baseness sink the noble soul?Oh! had the ingenious, and the brave, the care,Well to regard what they compleatly areThey'd break the feeble yoke of woman-kind,Regain their native privilege of mind,And be the lords they were at first design'd!Yet,Yet, if amongst the sly deceivers, are,Any sincerely virtuous, pious, fair;I will not rashly say of those--beware!In those (so far distinguish'd from the rest)It must, thro' justice, frankly be confess'd,The bold advent'rer may be safe and bless'd.But, as a merchant (who deigns for gain,To trust himself, and treasure to the main)First ponders well what proper course to stear,How to defend when rushing storms appear;And be from rocks and sands securely clear;Most circumspect behoves the man to be,Who trusts his all to this uncertain sea;LetLet him his faculties of mind awake,His reason use, and strict enquiries makeTo shun the dreadful woe attending his mistake.FINIS