The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753) - Vol. IV | Page 4

she cast looks upon
the conscious traitor with horrible dismay! Her fortune was in his hands,
the greatest part of which was already lavished away in the excesses of
drinking and gaming. She was young, unacquainted with the world; had
never experienced necessity, and knew no arts of redressing it; so that
thus forlorn and distressed, to whom could she run for refuge, even
from want, and misery, but to the very traitor that had undone her. She

was acquainted with none that could or would espouse her cause, a
helpless, useless load of grief and melancholy! with child! disgraced!
her own relations either unable, or unwilling to relieve her.
Thus was she detained by unhappy circumstances, and his prevailing
arts to wear away three wretched years with him, in the same house,
though she most solemnly protests, and she has a right to be believed,
that no persuasion could ever again reconcile her to his impious arms.
Whenever she cast her eyes upon her son, it gave a mortal wound to her
peace: The circumstances of his birth glared full on her imagination;
she saw him, in future, upbraided with his father's treachery, and his
mother's misfortunes. Thus forsaken of all the world, in the very
morning of her life, when all things should have been gay, and
promising, she wore away three wretched years. Mean time her
betrayer had procured for himself a considerable employment; the
duties of which obliged him to go into the country where his first wife
lived. He took leave of his injured innocent, with much seeming
tenderness; and made the most sacred protestations, that he would not
suffer her, nor her child ever to want.
He endeavoured to persuade her to accompany him into the country,
and to seduce, and quiet her conscience, shewed her a celebrated piece
written in defence of Polygamy, and Concubinage: When he was gone,
he soon relapsed into his former extravagances, forgot his promise of
providing for his child, and its mother; and inhumanly left them a prey
to indigence and oppression. The lady was only happy in being released
from the killing anguish, of every day having before her eyes the object
of her undoing.
When she again came abroad into the world, she was looked upon with
cold indifference; that which had been her greatest misfortune, was
imputed to her as the most enormous guilt; and she was every where
sneered at, avoided, and despised. What pity is it, that an unfortunate,
as well as a false step, should damn a woman's fame! In what respect
was Mrs. Manley to blame? In what particular was she guilty? to marry
her cousin, who passionately professed love to her, and who solemnly
vowed himself a widower, could not be guilt; on the other hand, it had

prudence and gratitude for its basis. Her continuing in the house with
him after he had made the discovery, cannot be guilt, for by doing so,
she was prevented from being exposed to such necessities as perhaps
would have produced greater ruin. When want and beggary stare a
woman in the face, especially one accustomed to the delicacies of life,
then indeed is virtue in danger; and they who escape must have more
than human assistance.
Our poetess now perceived, that together with her reputation, she had
lost all the esteem, that her conversation and abilities might have else
procured her; and she was reduced to the deplorable necessity of
associating with those whose fame was blasted by their indiscretion,
because the more sober and virtuous part of the sex did not care to risk
their own characters, by being in company with one so much suspected,
and against whom the appearance of guilt was too strong.
Under this dilemma, it is difficult to point out any method of behaviour,
by which she would not be exposed to censure: If she had still persisted
in solitude, the ill-natured world would have imputed to it a cause,
which is not founded on virtue; besides, as the means of support were
now removed, by the perfidy of Mr. Manley, she must have perished by
this resolution.
In this case, the reader will not be much surprized to find our authoress,
under the patronage of the duchess of Cleveland, a mistress of king
Charles the IId's, who was justly reckoned one of the most celebrated
beauties of that age. Mrs. Manley was paying a visit to a lady of her
grace's acquaintance, when she was introduced into the favour of this
royal courtezan; and as the duchess of Cleveland was a woman of parts
and genius, she could not but be charmed with the sprightliness of her
conversation. She was fond of new faces, and immediately contracted
the greatest intimacy with our poetess, and gave her a