been placed, is that which has been This is a remark which had apparently escaped Ballard, who seems to think that her Grace composed most of her works after the restoration of King Charles, and the return of the loyal exiles to England. The contrary, however, is proved by the commencement of her postscript to the "Plays," 1662, page 181. But, above all, we are disposed to think that the voluminous works of our authoress will now be looked upon with most satisfaction (or patience) by that reader who regards them (in the words of Mr Coleridge) as a 66 psycological curiosity." Her Grace has of herself somewhere made this remarkable declaration, "I ALWAYS TOOK DELIGHT IN SINGULARITY!" On this principle, therefore, we find in all her productions reiterated assurances (which indeed some might consider superfluous) that she was utterly and voluntarily destitute of book-learning; and that her Whig principles, in matters of literature at least, were so violent, that she absolutely renounced and contemned all rules, laws, and authorities, whatever. We repeat, therefore, that works, composed on such foundation, should be looked upon as a psycological curiosity; for let any authoress, however highly endowed by nature, set out and proceed with a passion for singularity—a renunciation of common sense and all established rules-a detestation and voluntary ignorance of books,-let an authoress, we say, be thus guided and actuated, and, moreover, resolve at the same time to write perpetually, and to print all that she writes, it surely may at least be expected that her compositions will be metaphysically curious and novel at least; while that there should be a plentiful harvest of absurdity and extravagance, must be owing as much to this peculiar system as to natural imbecilities of character in the said authoress. ty, even in accoutrements of dress," says the Duchess. And accordingly, when she became a poetess and philosopher, she resolved to proceed with had preceded her on the same ground. an utter disregard of every one who To learn other languages, or even her own grammatically-to brood over the pages of Shakspeare and Spenser, of Bacon and Hooker-were the very last duties that, in her literary capacity, she deemed it requisite to fulfil. She seems almost to have closed her eyes on the beauties of the visible universe; and it scarcely appears even that she studied her Bible; and yet continued indefatigably to contemplate and to write! "If we had but that command over ourselves," she has said (speaking of the female sex, and doubtless judging of them all by her own experience)" if we had but that might perhaps be thought wits, though we command over ourselves to keep silence, we ble for us to do. So long as we have speech were fools; but to keep silence it is impossi we shall talk, although to no purpose; for nothing but death can force us to silence, for we often talk in our sleep." And in another place "I imagine all those who have redd my former books will say that I have writ enough, unless they were better. But, say what you will, it pleaseth me; and since my delights are harmless, I will satisfy my For, had my braine as many fancies in't To fill the world, I'd put them all in print. No matter whether they be well expresst; My will is done that pleases woman best.” humour. In the strange collection of prefatory addresses to the miscellaneous plays already referred to, are many remarkable evidences of this turn of mind. "As for the niceties of rules, forms, and terms, I renounce, and protest that if I did understand and know them strictly, as I do not, I would not follow them: and if any dislike my writings for the want of these them; for I had rather that my writings rules, forms, and terms, let him not read should be unread, than be read by such pedantical scholastic persons." And in the dedication to the life of her husband occurs the following passage: "As for my being the true and only authoress of them (her various publications), your Lordship knows best; and my attending servants are witnesses that I have had none but my own thoughts, fancies, and speculations, to assist me; and as soon as I set them down, I send them to those that are to transcribe them and fit them for the' "I always took delight in singulari- among them such as could only write a press; whereof there have been several, and VOL. IV. good hand, but understood neither orthography nor had any learning; I being then in banishment with your Lordship, and not able to maintain learned secretaries, which hath been a great disadvantage to my poor works, and the cause that they have been printed so false and full of errors: for, besides that I wanted also skill and scholarship in true writing, I did many times not peruse the copies that were transcribed, lest they should disturb my following conceptions; by which neglect, as I said, many errors are slipped into my works, which yet I hope learned and impartial readers will soon rectify, and look more upon the sense than the words." But to return to the volume of lays, from which we believe that no extracts have till now been reprinted. It would appear that the numerous prefatory notices have been written chiefly for the sake of declaring her contempt for all the rules and practices of preceding or contemporary dramatists. More especially, her Grace has objected to the commonly received opinion, that every character introduced should, less or more, assist in bringing about the final denouement of the plot. This, no doubt, required some degree of submissive precaution and contrivance, and therefore it is an excellence utterly renounced by the Duchess. "I do not," she exclaims, "perceive any reason why that the several persons presented should be all of an acquaintance, or that there is a necessity to have them all of one fraternity, or to have a relation to each other, or linked in alliance as one family; when as playes are to present the general follies, vices, vanities, humours, dispositions, passions, affections, fashions, customs, manners, and practices, of the whole world of mankind, as in several persons; also particular follies, vanities, vices, humours, passions, affections, fashions, fortunes, customs, and the like, in particular persons; also the sympathy and antipathy of dispositions, humours, passions, customs, and fashions, of several persons; also the particular virtues and graces in several per The Lord Singularity and Lady Perfection Sir Serious Dumbe Mrs Reformer Lady Amorous Doll Subtility Nan Lightheel such personages would act and speak It was of course to be expected that sons, and several virtues and graces in par- according to their several characters ticular persons; and all these varieties to be and attributes; and accordingly we drawn at the latter end into one piece, as find, that although the Duchess proved into one company, which, in my opinion, irreproachably chaste and correct in shews neither usual, probable, nor natural.” her own deportment, yet the Muses Whatever were the strange fancies have led her into society whose manthat our heroine conceived or adopted, ners and conversation certainly, in my Lord Duke seems always ready to modern times, appear not a little welcome and encourage them all. Ac- alarming and repulsive. Yet, after cordingly, we have a complimentary all, her Grace must be allowed, in this copy of verses, by this nobleman, pre-respect, to keep at an infinite distance fixed to the plays, and beginning, "Terence' and Plautus' wit we now do from our old friend Aphra Behn; who absolutely dwells upon and luxuriates in such passages of her very lively and ingenious plays, as, if read in a mo dern blue stocking circle, would be apt to throw the whole conclave into consternation. The Duchess, on such occasions, to say the truth, is disgusting and absurd rather than immoral; yet nevertheless, in the farrago which this volume affords, the characters of Lady Sanspareile, Lady Contemplation, Lady Belle Esprit, and many others, afford passages that, without any great stretch of indulgence, might be allowed considerable praise. It should not be forgotten, that Virgil delighted in conning over the despised and obsolete volumes of Ennius; and from the folio before us a desultory selection might be made, that would cut a very respectable figure, when associated with some of the heavy and ill-chosen reprints with which our shelves have groaned within the last five or six years. Moreover, we find, as before, that whatever the Duchess wrote, the Duke sanctioned and commended. The most obscene and disgusting plays in the volume have songs and sonnets," and even whole scenes, ascribed to his Lordship. We know not, therefore, how to censure her proceedings in this respect; since the same love of domestic tranquillity and devotion to her husband, that protected her from sharing in the licentious immoralities of the age, led her implicitly to be governed by his opinions, however erroneous. We cannot omit, by the bye, one more passage at the conclusion of the postscript to these extraordinary divertisements, in confirmation of what has been said as to her contempt of book-learning. "As French cooks are accounted the best for corporal meats, so the Greeks and Latins for poetical meats; but I am neither a Greek nor a Latin cook; I cannot dress or cook after their fashions or phancies; I never was bound apprentice to learning; I am as ignorant of their arts and meats as of their persons and nations. I am like a plain, cleanly English cook-maid, that dresses meat rather wholesomely than luxuriously, a roast capon without lard, a shoulder of mutton with a sauce of capers and olives, a piece of boiled beef and turnips, and, for a desert, a plain apple-tart or a pear-pye." p. 182. It must be owned, that amid such a variety as this folio affords, all, as far as we have ascertained, pretty much on a par as to intrinsic merit, it is difficult to fix in preference on any particular play (or dish, according to the Duchess's metaphor) for a regular analysis. We have been promised, however, by an Oxford correspondent, some remarks on her Grace's poetical works, which perhaps we may at some future period find room to insert; also, some excerpts from a volume of (what are supposed to be) unpublished philosophical rhapsodies (in verse), alluded to in Ballard's Memoir; which intimation gave rise to the present article. We shall now conclude by observing, that, with all this lady's literary peculiaritics, she seems to have been, in the arrangement of the Duke's pecuniary embarrassments (if such an Iricism is allowable), a much better man of business than himself. Somewhere her Grace observes, "I cannot say that I think my time ever tedious, when I am alone; so I be neer my lord, and know that he is well." She was a lover of solitude, therefore; yet she never addicted herself to drinking canary, or taking snuff, or smoking tobacco; nor, as far as we know, lost her personal beauty, which (as appears from the portrait in Parke's edition) was very considerable; nor became careless of her dress, her domestic economy, the welfare of her connexions, or the conduct of her worldly affairs. S. K. C. REMARKS ON TRAINING. Introductory Letter. I ASSURE you, Mr Editor, I am a correspondent of a very different kidney from those who commonly write either in your Magazine or in any other. I detest all poetry, and know nothing, and care less, about literature and the fine arts. Pugilism is the art in which I excel; and though I am allowed to be as neat a miller, I say it that shouldn't say it, I believe and to have as much pluck and bottom, as any man of my weight that ever entered a ring. As I seldom read any thing but Boxiana or the Sunday newspaper, it is ten to one I should never have heard either of you or your Magazine, had not my sister (who has a rare nose for smelling out scandal) lately brought home a whole set of it in her muff, declaring it was the most charmingly pungent publication of the day. I have since occasionally conned an article or two over a glass of punch, and can't but say I thought some of them very clever, especially the letters of Timothy Tickler. However, being no great judge of these things myself, I shall rather speak of the effects they produced on my sister, who is quite a blue stocking, I assure you, and means to send you something very soon. I observed one day she dropped fast asleep with the Magazine open in her hand; and on examining, I found she had got about half-way through a damn'd long prosing article upon William Wordsworth, a person of whom I never heard, as he is neither known at the Fives Court or the One Tun. She likewise yawned very much on reading Baron Lauerwinkel and Gosschen's Diary; but made ample amends for this in the pleasure she expressed on coming to Ensign Odoherty and the Mad Banker of Amsterdam. These tickled her fancy extremely, and she declared, while your work could boast such a rare union of talent and refinement, it should never want her patronage. On the whole, Mr Editor, I am inclined to think better of you than of your brethren, and I have accordingly prevailed on a friend of mine (a parson of the fancy) to send you a paper on Training, which I found him t'other day just on the point of sending off to the Sporting Magazine. Notwithstanding his cloth, I assure you he is a bit of the best stuff I know, and, with respect to beat ing, a complete glutton. If any of your Scotch parsons have a mind for a set-to, you may tell them you know one will give them a bellyfull for a trifle. So no more at present, from your friend, A BIT OF A BRUISER. THE art of training, although till lately very imperfectly understood, is one of ancient origin and very general diffusion. Its elements may be discovered among every people, however rude and barbarous, who are led either by necessity or choice to undergo long and violent exertion. That certain circumstances have a tendency to invigorate, and others to enfeeble the human frame, is one of those conclusions to which we are led rather by instinctive perception than any process of reason. Were two savages to run a race, we may safely conclude that neither of them would come to the ground with a bellyfull of water, or a stomach loaded with meat. I say we may safely conclude this, because their experience must have taught them, that in a state of repletion their bodies were less capable of exertion, than at other times when their bowels were less encumbered with extraneous matter. Such, therefore, is the first step towards training; and until civiliza tion has considerably advanced, it is in fact the only step to be expected. The savage has but little choice of food, and the hunter must be contented to feed on buffalo or wild boar, just as often as he is lucky enough to get either boar or buffalo to eat. At length, however, the star of medicine begins to dawn in his horizon, and the effects of different habits and kinds of food, on the human body, are in some degree ascertained by experiment and observation. Training, therefore, has now made considerable progress; and in this state of things, the mode of life and diet, of a person who has any laborious undertaking to perform, will naturally be of that kind which, according to the ideas of the times, is held to be most invigorating and nutritious. This in fact, in any country, is the whole process of training, which is merely the art of endowing any animal with all the strength and activity which, from their physical formation, it is possible for them to attain. To the perfection of this art, however, many sciences must contribute; and its advancement can only take place in proportion as the structure of the human frame, and the effects produced on it by the various substances of the animal and vegetable worlds, have been correctly ascertained. Of the mode of training adopted by the Greeks we know actually nothing. Yet it cannot be doubted, that a course of dietetic discipline was undergone by the candidates for distinction at the Pythian and Olympic Games. The astonishing feats of muscular activity and strength, which have been handed down to us on record, may have owed much to the physical formation of the individuals; but something must still be attributed to the art of the Restau rateur. The state of ignorance, therefore, on this subject, under which we labour, is much to be lamented. It may be admitted that, from the training of an individual like the celebrated Milo, who first knocked an ox down, and then eat him for his dinner, no useful lesson could be derived; because the measure both of his strength and his stomach is so removed from that of ordinary men as to set all imitation at defiance; but it surely, for instance, would be matter of curiosity to know the nature of the invigorating regimen adopted by Ajax before his contest with Hector. It cannot be conceived, that in a case so important, with the hopes and prospects of the Grecian army depending on his success, he should have confined himself to the usual camp-fare of lean beef and a few miserable herbs. No! his courage must have been whetted by more noble fare, and regulated, as it doubtless was, by the wisdom of Ulysses and the experience of Nestor, we cannot hesitate in believing it to have been of the most tonic and nutritious nature. With regard to the measures of training in use among the Romans, our ignorance is not quite so profound. Pliny, in one of his letters, gives us some insight into their mode of preparation. The warm bath, probably with the view of inducing perspiration, was considered perfectly indispensible. Abstinence from wine was also very properly inculcated; and a considerable portion of the patient's time was devoted to sleep. The gladiators were accustomed to practise with the cestus in striking at the air, in order to exercise the arms; and their diet was uniformly confined to animal food, without any mixture of vegetables. Such are the chief heads of the information which has been handed down to us with regard to the training of the Romans, and, generally speaking, it appears to be tolerably calculated to attain the proposed end. At all events, training must vary with the climate and constitution of a people; and it would be difficult, if not impossible, for us who live in a different latitude, and so distant a period of the world, to decide what mode of discipline and diet would have been most proper for men under circumstances so different from our own. In later times, however, the most erroneous and absurd ideas on this subject have been commonly entertained. In this country, until lately, the training of individuals (if training it may be called) has been regulated more by prejudice and whim, than by any use ful or intelligible rule. In this res- "How few like Cofinbrosche are found, Of his divinity it were out of place On this gentleman we find the following epigram from the pen of the classical Cowley: On Doctor Murdoche Dambrod. |