"Madness! thou chaos of the brain, What art? that pleasure giv'st and pain, Tyranny of fancy's reign! Mechanic fancy! that can build Vast labyrinths and mazes wild, With rule disjointed, shapeless measure, Fill'd with horror, fill'd with pleasure! Shapes of horror, that would even Cast doubt of mercy upon Heaven; Shapes of pleasure, that but seen, Would split the shaking sides of Spleen. O vanity of age! here see The stamp of Heaven effac'd by thee! The headstrong course of youth thus run, What comfort from this darling son? His rattling chains with terror hear, Behold death grappling with despair! See him by thee to ruin sold, And curse thyself, and curse thy gold!" [Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE VIII.] "Last scene of all,--which ends this strange eventful history!" But in this scene, dreary and horrid as are its accompaniments, he is attended by the faithful and kind-hearted female whom he so basely betrayed. In the first plate we see him refuse her his promised hand. In the fourth she releases him from the harpy fangs of a bailiff; she is present at his marriage. In the hope of relieving his distress, she follows him to a prison. Wishing to soothe his misery and alleviate his woe, she here attends him in a madhouse! What a return for deceit and desertion! The Reverend Mr. Gilpin, in his elucidation of these eight prints, asserts that "this thought is rather unnatural, and the moral certainly culpable."[93] With the utmost deference for his critical abilities, I must entertain a different opinion. We have had many similar examples of female attachment. If it be culpable to forgive those which have despitefully used us, to free those which are in bonds, to visit those which are in prison, and to comfort those which are in affliction, what meaning have the divine precepts of our holy religion? The female mind is naturally credulous, affectionate, and--in its attachments--ardent. If, in her peculiar situation, her assiduities must be deemed in any degree culpable, let us remember that this is but a frail vessel of refined clay. When the awful record of her errors is unrolled, may that sigh which was breathed for the misery of a fellow-mortal waft away the scroll, and the tears which flowed for the calamities of others float the memorial down the stream of oblivion! On the errors of women, let us look with the allowance and humanity of men. Enchanting woman! thou balm of life! soother of sorrow! solace of the soul! how dost thou lessen the load of human misery, and lead the wretched into the valley of delight! Without thee, how heavily would man drag through a dreary world; but if the white hand of a fascinating female be twined round his arm, how joyous, how lightly doth he trip along the path!