.

whether from the general recommendation which her natural humour and vivacity gave her, or a passion which Mr. Hart, the player, had for her, is unknown. It is certain, she was a favourite of Dryden's, who gave her the most shewy and alluring parts in his comedies, and wrote several prologues and epilogues expressly for her, but the more immediate cause of her becoming an object of the monarch's affections was as follows:

At the duke's house, under Killegrew's patent, the celebrated Nokes had appeared in a hat larger than Pistol's, which pleased the audience so much as to help off a bad play; Dryden caused a hat to be made of the circumference of a large coach-wheel, and as Mrs. Gwyn was low in stature, made her speak an epilogue under the umbrella of it, with its brim stretched out in its most horizontal extension. No sooner did she appear in this strange dress, than the house was in convulsions of laughter. Among the rest, the king gave the fullest proof of approbation, by going behind the scenes immediately after the play, and taking her home in his own coach to supper with him.

After this elevation, she still continued on the stage, and though in general comedy she did not rank with Betterton, Marshall, Lee, Bourell, &c. for the airy, fantastic, and sprightly exhibitions of the comic muse, her genius was most aptly calculated, and according to the taste of those times, she was considered the best prologue and epilogue speaker on either theatre.

It now remains to consider her as the mistress of a king, and here she nobly belied the baseness of her origin, and that seminary of viee in which she was bred. Mrs. Gwyn met and bore her good fortune as if she had been bred to it, discovering neither avarice, pride, nor osten. tation; she remembered all her theatrical friends, and did them services; she generously paid off her debt of gratitude to Dryden, and was the patroness of Otway and Lee.

When she became more immediately connected with the king, that gay monarch was already surrounded with mistresses. The Duchesses of Portsmouth and Plymouth, with Miss Davis and others, were considered to be in that 'capacity, but these were known to have been unrestrained in their conduct. Mrs. Gwyn preserved her character of fidelity to the last, and being once solicited by a Sir John Germain, to whom she had lost a considerable sum of money at play, to exchange the debt for other favours, she no less honestly than wittily replied,—" No, Sir John, I am too good a sports woman to lay the dog where the deer should lie."

She was not only the favourite of the monarch, but the favourite of the people, and, though that age abounded with satires and lampoons against the rest of the king's mistresses, as the causes of political disasters, Mrs. Gwyn, except in the instance of a few lines written by Lord Rochester, not only escaped, but even met their approbation, as she never troubled herself with politics. She was munificent in her charities, sociable with her friends, and what was singular enough, piqued herself on her regard for the church of England, contrary to the then disposition of the court.

As a proof how much she was in the favour of the people, an eminent goldsmith, who died about forty years since, in the 79th year of his age, has been often heard to relate, that when he was an apprentice, his master made a most expensive service of plate, as a present from the King to the Duchess of Portsmouth, and that a great number of people used to crowd the shop to gratify their curiosity, and throw out curses against the Duchess; but that all were unanimous in wishing the present had been for Mrs. Gwyn.

¿ In her person, according to her picture by Lely, she was low in stature, red haired, and what the French call en bon point. There is a bust now to be seen of her at Bagnigge Wells, formerly her Country House. She had

remarkable small but lively eyes; her foot was of the most diminutive size, and used to be the subject of much mirth to her merry paramour.

She had a very fine understanding, was humourous, witty, and possessed the talents so necessary to enliven conversation in an eminent degree, and generally kept her place at table with the King, the Lord Rochester, Shaftesbury, &c. till they quitted the bounds of decency, when she never failed to retire. She lived long enough to see, and without doubt to lament the decline of that family which had raised her to rank and fortune, having the good sense to avoid meddling with the politics of the times.

After the King's death, she purchased a house in Patl Mall, where she lived many years with an unblemished reputation, and where she died in 1691, and was buried with great funeral solemnity in the Parish Church of St. Martin's in the Fields, to the ringers of which, among other valuable donations, she left a sum of money to supply them with a weekly entertainment, which they enjoy to this day.

Dr. Tennison, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, preached her funeral sermon.

ALCHYMY.

This visionary pursuit is well described by M. Bailli, "Alchymia est capta meretrix omnes invitat, nemiņem admittit, est sine arte ars, cujus principium est scire, medium meutire, finis mendicare." The study of Alchymy may be compared to a coquette; she smiles invitation to every one, but grants her favors to no one. It is an art without rules, whose beginning holds out a semblance of knowledge, whose middle is falsehood, and whose end is beggary.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

A Tribute to the Memory of the unfortunate LAVINIA ROBINSON;

By the Rev. L. Blakeney, M. A.

ILL-fated fair!-the pitying muse
Shall not her mournful dirge refuse,
To grace thy humid bier!

In hope, in youth, in beauty's bloom,
Th' untimely victim of the tomb
Demands compassion's tear!

What manly heart thy fate can read,
And not with keenest anguish bleed,
Thy cruel wrongs to scan?

To phrenzy driven, unhappy maid!
By sullied fame, and vows betray'd
By base, ungrateful man!

No! tho' Man's form the wretch possess'd,
Thy treacherous lover's callous breast
Veil'd an Hyæna's heart;

Which first-to love it's victim wooed;
And, when to tenderness subdued,

Infix'd destruction's dart!

Heav'ns-could a "reasoning brute" be found, With blows thy tender form to wound,

And worse than ruffian-rage?

That form could the barbarian beat,
Sweet sufferer! to his coward feet,

Nor feel his wrath assuage?

And thou!-who view'd th' inhuman scene,
Whom manhood urg'd to rush between

Th' assassin and the maid;

Say, does not shame suffuse thy cheek,
Who, pusillanimous, and weak

With-held thy wanted aid

Oh! had th' all-ruling will of heaven
To me the painful trial given,

Such cursed sight to share;

Nor fear, nor age, had check'd the zeal
Which prompts, when female wrongs appeal,
This heart, and hand, to dare!

As cast to swine the precious pearl,
Such was thy lot lamented girl!
With thy unworthy wooer;
Thy artless confidence abused,
And e'n thy virgin fame accused,
Than purest pearls more pure!

Yet happier thou, much injured fair!
An early victim to despair,

Than this cold-blooded slave;"
For shame, to perjured baseness due,
Thro' life shall his career pursue,

And brand beyond the grave!

His mind shall conscious horrors haunt
And biting scorn for ever taunt,
And general loathing vex:

By man from social converse turn'd ;
From female love, and solace spurn'd;
Outcast from either sex!

Yes! while from rude affliction's storm,
Escaped to heaven, thy angel form

With kindred saints shall blend;

From peace, from hope, from pity hurl'd,
Remorse shall goad him thro' the world,
Nor death his sufferings end!

Farewell! poor, injured maid !-the bard

Thy spotless fame with zeal shall guard,

Can his weak powers avail :

For in his breast a spirit dwells,

That melts with grief-with anger swells,

At thy disastrous tale!