The subjects, too, which were discussed in the political society of the last age were not so inscrutable to women as our present subjects; and even when there were great difficulties they were more on a level with men in the discussion of them than they now are. It was no disgrace to be destitute of preliminary information at a time in which there were no accumulated stores from which such information could be derived. A lightening element of female influence is therefore to be found through much of the politics of the eighteenth century. Lady Mary entered easily into all this world, both social and political. She had beauty for the fashionable, satire for the witty, knowledge for the learned, and intelligence for the politician. She was not too refined to shrink from what we now consider the coarseness of that time. Many of her verses themselves are scarcely adapted for our decorous pages. Perhaps the following give no unfair idea of her ordinary state of mind: ‘TOWN ECLOGUES. ‘ROXANA; OR, THE DRAWING-ROOM. ‘Roxana, from the Court retiring late, Sigh’d her soft sorrows at St. James’s gate. Such heavy thoughts lay brooding in her breast, Not her own chairmen with more weight oppress’d; They groan the cruel load they’re doom’d to bear; She in these gentle sounds express’d her care. “Was it for this that I these roses wear? For this new-set the jewels for my hair? Ah! Princess! with what zeal have I pursued! Almost forgot the duty of a prude. Thinking I never could attend too soon, I’ve miss’d my prayers, to get me dress’d by noon. For thee, ah! what for thee did I resign! My pleasures, passions, all that e’er was mine. I sacrific’d both modesty and ease, Left operas and went to filthy plays; Double-entendres shock my tender ear; Yet even this for thee I choose to bear. In glowing youth, when nature bids be gay, And every joy of life before me lay, By honour prompted, and by pride restrain’d, The pleasures of the young my soul disdain’d: Sermons I sought, and with a mien severe Censur’d my neighbours, and said daily prayer. “Alas! how chang’d—with the same sermon-mien That once I pray’d, the _What d’ye call’t_ I’ve seen. Ah! cruel Princess, for thy sake I’ve lost That reputation which so dear had cost: I, who avoided every public place, When bloom and beauty bade me show my face, Now near thee constant every night abide With never-failing duty by thy side; Myself and daughters standing on a row, To all the foreigners a goodly show! Oft had your drawing-room been sadly thin, And merchants’ wives close by the chair been seen, Had not I amply filled the empty space, And saved your highness from the dire disgrace. “Yet Coquetilla’s artifice prevails, When all my merit and my duty fails; That Coquetilla, whose deluding airs