Beheld, with secret joy, th' auspicious hour,
When the vain king was doom'd to feel her power.

Eager to rouze the sanguinary strife,

To put out candles, and extinguish life,

She beckons Eris' (daughter dire of Night),
Who, in a cobweb crouch'd, (conceal'd from sight),
But (like its natʼral tenant) ready lay

To waken mischief, and to seize her prey.

The fury, hated by the gods and men, Quitting her villain-brother's dirty den, Obedient to the awful sign of Fate,

Instant skipp'd forth, array'd in spleen and hate,

And arm'd with jaw polite, and language Billings

gate.

Strife or Contention is often personified by the Greek poets. She is finely represented on the shield of Hercules.

2

* The same poet (if indeed he be the author of the АEПIE) in his Theogonia, makes Eris or Strife the daughter of Night:

Νυξ ολογ—Εριν τεκε καρτεροθυμών.

Hasten," said Fate, " rush quickly to the floor; Awake the tumult; bid the battle roar;

'Gainst RAMROD's empire discontent excite:
Mingle his friends and foes in bloody fight:
Bid Faction tear the medal from his breast,
And dissipate the powder of his crest:
Rumple his chitterling; his kid-gloves soil;
The evening labours of his toilette spoil:
The melted taper on his small-clothes pour;
And lay him, foul and prostrate, on the floor.

Then, let the tumult thicken: rouze each fair To calling odious names, and pulling hair; Let curses thunder, and let blows resound; Torn lace and broken fans bestrew the ground; And gray-hair'd scalps and wrinkled skulls deplore The loss of wigs, wide-scatter'd o'er the floor. Haste, therefore, and to wake the louder clatter, Assume the form and face of Mrs. CHATTER."

Soon as she heard vindictive Fate's decree, Down dropp'd the pest amongst the company;

And took the likeness of the shrivell'd dame,

Her wig, her fan, her cap, her gown the same3.

Thus chang'd, she scatters through th' indignant crowd
Inflammatory speech, and murmurs loud;
Complaining sorely to each soul she met

Of laws abus'd, and breach of etiquette.
But soon the lady LOFTY she selects

From out the number; and to her directs

Her chief discourse; filling her breast, the while,

With rich quintessence of infernal bile.

66

Heav'ns! can your ladyship in silence see

Such unexampled incivility?

RAMROD, forgetful of the friends who plac'd
The crown upon his shallow pate, and grac’d
His bosom with the medal of these rooms,
The region rich of jewels and perfumes;

Can you behold, I say, the ingrate vile
Bestowing every bow and every smile
On base-born frumps, the dregs of vulgar life,
A mean tobacconist's disgusting wife:
And not attempt the rights to vindicate

Of long descent, high blood, and ancient state?
Ah! where is now that amiable sense

Of differing kind, and in-born excellence,
Which swells the bosom, sparkles in the eye,
And smooths the brow of dread nobility;
And (like Mimosa) almost shrinks to death,
Approach'd by aught but fashionable breath?
For Heaven's sake! your dignity assert,
And, instant, punish this intruder pert.

The sensitive plant; whose delicacy and sensibility Dr. Darwin thus elegantly describes :

Shield, when cold Hesper sheds his dewy light,
Mimosa's soft sensations from the night:
Fold her thin foliage, close her timid flowers,
And with ambrosial slumbers guard her bowers.

ECON. OF VEG.

Think on the proud pre-eminence you claim
At balls and routs o'er ev'ry city dame!
Think on the honourable stand you take
At royal levees, till your ankles ache!

Think on the hundred quart'rings of your arms:
The herald's college; and the red-book's charms!
Think on the house to which you are allied;
And summon its hereditary pride;

Nor, patient, witness such a monstrous thing;

A commoner the fav'rite of a KING!

66

Full forty years, or more ('tis truth I tell),

The vulgar hussy I remember well;

And, at her husband's shop, in Fetter-lane,

Have purchas'd snuff, full oft, perfum'd and plain·
Her present bloated ladyship, the while,
Serving the customers with humble smile.
Mean time, her better half, a plodding elf,
Intent on nought but aggrandizing self,
Unmindful of the gambols of his spouse,

And careless of the horns that grac'd his brows;