The Reform'd Coquet, Familiar Letters Betwixt a Gentleman and a Lady, and The Accomplish'd Rake

Mary Davys

• Publisher: The University Press of Kentucky
• Year: 2021
• Print ISBN: 9780813109695, 9780813121277
• eBook ISBN: 9780813188348
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

THE ACCOMPLISH’D RAKE,
OR MODERN FINE GENTLEMAN:
BEING
AN EXACT DESCRIPTION
OF THE
CONDUCT AND BEHAVIOUR OF
A PERSON OF DISTINCTION

When Conqu’ring Vice Triumphant takes the Field,

Virtue Dethron’d must to its Pow’r yield;

And when Good Characters are all at stake,

The Best of Bad Ones is th’ Accomplish’d Rake.¹

TO THE
BEAUS²
OF
GREAT-BRITAIN

GENTLEMEN,

THERE is a certain Ingredient in the Compound of a Dedication, call’d Adulation or Flattery, which is a Weed grown so rank by Age, that I am afraid it may offend your Nice Noses; and for that Reason, am resolved to pull it up by the Roots, tho’ it is very possible some of ye may believe there is no such thing, since to Men of so much Merit all is due that can be said: But as I am now in a Vein of Writing new to please ye, I intend to throw in a Scruple³ to the contrary Scale; and for once, let Truth and Justice hold the Balance. I know if I should tell ye of a Thousand Fine Qualities, to which ye can never make a Good Title, it would be no more than a Weak Imitation of my Predecessors: But as I now set up for an Original, my Words and Thoughts are to be entirely my own, and I alone accountable for them.

It is very likely ye may be a little surpris’d, that I should draw the Character of a Rake,⁴ then lay it under the Protection of a Beau: But I must tell ye, I had a very Advantageous View, when I pitch’d upon ye for my Patrons; for I thought ye were much more likely to stand by me, than the Worthy Gentlemen decypher’d in the following Sheets. There is certainly a good deal of Difference betwixt the Two Characters; for tho’ the one may not altogether preserve the strictest Morals; yet in many Cases he is careful to avoid any Material Reflection on his Honour: For Example, he may have Bravery enough to leave his Country in Defence of it, whilst the other stays at Home to guard his own dear Person and the Ladies: And I must own myself better pleas’d with the Courage and Conduct of a Real Engagement with the Spaniards,⁵ than in any Protestations of Stabbing your selves for Love.

But Gun-powder and Perfume is a very odd Mixture; and why should I talk of Battles to such a Peaceable Part of the Species? No! I shall confine myself entirely to your Nicer Qualities; and particularly, enlarge upon the Elegance of drawing Gold Snuff-Boxes instead of Daggers, and writing Billet-doux’s⁶ instead of Challenges: And every one must give into this Way of Thinking, who compares the Prudence of the one with the Rashness of the other. I can repeat a Thousand Things, wherein our Pretty Fellows excell the Unpoliter Part of Mankind, and most will agree, it better to drink Barley-Water for a Smooth Complection, than Burgundy for a Red Face.⁷ Oh! how preferrable is the Charming Nonsense of our Gentilshomme des Amours⁸ to those Profane Oaths, which make so great a Part of the Conversation of Blustering Britons. It must be owing to the Bad Taste of the Age, that a great deal of Powder and White Hands should be call’d Foppery and Effeminacy; or, that the Gentle, Easy Study of Women and Dress, should be thought inferiour to that of Men and Letters; and sure they must mistake the Literal Sense of Beau, who dont call IT a Fine Gentleman.

To conclude, That your Fine Faces may receive no Freckles, your Embroideries no Tarnish; nor your Fortunes any Shock, are the Unfeigned Wishes of

GENTLEMEN

Yours,⁹

THE MODERN
Fine Gentleman

YOUNG Galliard who is to be the Subject of the following Leaves, will (with his own Inclinations, and a little of my additional Discipline) be a very exact Copy of the Title Page; for tho’ I shall be very punctual in delivering nothing but plain Fact in the fundamental Part of his Story, it is not impossible but by way of Episode I may intermit now and then a pretty little Lye, and since it is to be both little and pretty, I hope my Reader will excuse me if he finds me out, and let him convict me if he can.

The above-named Gentleman was born in one of the largest Counties in England; his Mother a Woman of Distinction, and claim’d a Share in some of the Best Blood in the Nation; her Education, perhaps, not very regular, an airy, roving Temper, unconfin’d, and free, would know no Bounds, nor bear the least Restraint. Pleasure was her Idol, at whose Altar she became a constant Votary, but the veriest Trifle in Domestick Affairs gave her insupportable Pain; two days spent in the same Diversion was Abominable Pleasure, but fresh Delights were worth continued Notice. His Father was a Person of a very different Character, wise and prudent, yet had the utmost Tenderness for his Lady, and look’d on her weak Behaviour, as one would on a Sick Child; with Pity, not with Anger or Reproach. He had served his Country in many Reputable Capacities, and was just chosen Knight of the Shire,¹⁰ when the Small-Pox too fatally seiz’d him, of which in ten Days he dy’d; during which time he seem’d exceeding anxious for his Children, having, beside his Son, one Daughter, and both too young to be left to the Care of a negligent unmindful Eye. An Affair of this Importance requir’d more Time than he had now to spare; and how to manage for their Good jointly, with the Satisfaction of his Lady, he knew not. To leave them to her Care and Management (her Temper consider’d) was throwing them into the Mouth of Ruin; and to substitute another, at least while they were so very young, was shewing those Faults too plainly to the World, which his good Nature would fain have hid even from himself. Many of his poor restless Hours were made infinitely more so, by those sad Reflections, yet the tender Regard he had for his Lady took place, and he at last determined to do nothing with his latest Breath that should give her the least Indifference for his Loss, he consider’d his Children were hers as well as his, and hoped when he was gone, she would then consider, there was none left either to indulge or wink at her Follies, would wisely remember her self a double Parent, and shew her true Concern for his Loss by a more than common Care of them. He therefore, ’ere his dying Moments came too near him, call’d her and his Children to his Bed-side, and thus addrest them: I have now before me all I hold dear on Earth, and it is no easie Task to go for ever from your Eyes; but I am now arrested by a cruel Hand which will take no Ransom, but insists upon a speedy Payment of that Debt I owe to Nature, nor will by any Means let go his Hold till my freed Soul shall take her Flight and Find a Rest on some unknown Shore. Since then I must go, all that remains for me is to recommend those tender Pledges of our Love to the utmost care of you, the dearest Partner of my Bed, and as a dying Request beg their Education may be such as may give them a true and early Notion of Vertue and Honour.

As for you my beloved Son, you are now turn’d of fourteen, you are blest with a promising Genius,¹¹ and though you are yet but young you may remember the Words of a Father, whose last Request to you is, That while you travel through this Life, you will learn to keep your Footsteps steady, that so they may neither sink you on one Side to the heavy dull Pedant, or raise you on the other to the light flashy Coxcomb, let a strict Vertue regulate all your Actions, despise and shun those Libertines¹² who may strive to poison your Morals, be dutiful to your Mother, love your Sister, and marry a Woman of Vertue.

I leave you sole Heir to a very flourishing Estate, which has for two Centuries been in your Family, I beg you will never lessen your Ancestors by a Misapplication of those Talents Heaven has blest you with. I would say more but my Spirits grow faint, and I have now no more to do but die in Peace, and close my Eyes for ever. He had hardly done speaking when a Convulsion seized him, and catch’d his latest Breath, and in him died a worthy Patriot, a tender Husband, and a careful Father, in the thirty-sixth Year of his Age, and had his dying Words been of any Force with those he left behind, his Children might have made as good a Figure in Life as their Predecessors had done before them, but Lady Galliard was left tollerably young, a good Face and a better Joynture,¹³ and dried up her Tears so soon, that Decency ashamed of such light Proceedings, with a Blush cry’d fie, and left her.

Sure unjustly are we called the weaker Vessels, when we have Strength to subdue that which conquers the Lords of the Creation, for their Reason tyes them down to Rules, while we like Sampson¹⁴ break the trifling Twine and laugh at every Obstacle that would oppose our Pleasure. Lady Galliard had too much Resolution and Courage to strugle with Grief, but like an expert Fencer gave it one home Thrust and silenced it for ever, hardly allowing so much as the common Decorum of a Month’s Confinement to a dark Room,¹⁵ though her wild Behaviour told the World she was but too well qualified for such an Apartment for ever. But I now give up my Observations to Time, who will probably alternately bury and raise her Shame, to him I leave her for a while, and call upon young Galliard her Son, who is now arrived at one Step of Honour, being the Third Baronet¹⁶ successively of his Family, Sir John therefore for the future we call him, and if he behaves below his Manhood and Dignity, we must beg the Mother to answer for the Son, since the Father left no Example behind him, but what was worthy of the strictest Imitation, and had not the too hasty Hand of Death, snatch’d him hence so soon, his indefatigable Care had made his Son what he really was himself, a perfect fine Gentlemen. It is a common Saying, That Manners makes the Man,¹⁷ but that Word, like Friendship, includes much more than is vulgarly understood by it, and a false Education like false Wit only serves to varnish over the Defects of our Scene and Behaviour, which when tried by a true Touchstone, lays us open and shows the Deformities of both. But if a wrong Discipline in Youth be so pernitious, what becomes of those who have none at all? How many young Gentlemen have we among the better Sort of Men, that are in a Manner wholly neglected and left to branch forth into numberless Follies, like a rich Field uncultivated, that abounds in nothing but tall Weeds and gaudy scentless Flowers. This is doubtless the Reason why the Town is so stock’d with Rakes and Coxcombs, who wisely imagine all Merit is wrapt up in fine Clothes and Blasphemy; a laced Coat, gold clock’t Stockings, and a Tupee,¹⁸ qualifies a Man for a modern fine Gentleman, and if he can but whore, swear, and renounce his Maker, he is a modern fine Gentleman indeed. Too much like this it fared with our young Baronet, who is now left to think and act as he pleases himself, and he that is his own Teacher has too often a Fool for his Schoolmaster, tho’ young Galliard did not want Sense, but on the contrary had more than could be expected from one of his Years, and yet alass, for want of due Measures, it grew up rank, and sprouted out with nothing but Excrescences. He now saw himself with the Eyes of Vanity, which was daily increased by the Flattery of the Servants, a Thing he liked so well that his whole Time was spent among the Grooms in the Stables, or the Wenches in the House; and doubtless his natural good Sense and acquired good Manners met with all the Improvement that such refin’d Conversation could furnish him with. Two whole Years slipt away in a careless Lethergy, which lost Time was of much more value than the annual Rents of the Estate, considering one revolves, but the other is lost for ever. We generally expect a Man compleat at one and twenty, and two Years out of seven is too considerable to be trifled away, beside the sad Disadvantage of imbibing ill Customs, which like the King’s Evil¹⁹ is seldom or never removed. The Neglect of this young Gentleman alarm’d all that loved his Father, which was just as many as knew his Worth; but in a near Part of the Neighbourhood lived one Mr. Friendly, who was always conversant with, and loved by, the deceased; he in a very particular Manner lamented the Misfortune of the almost ruin’d Sir John, but knew not where to apply for a Remedy, the Knight was too young too thoughtless and too fond of his own Will to hearken to any Advice that did not concure with it. And for Lady Galliard, she was too positive, too proud, and too careless, either to be perswaded by her Friends, or to joyn in Concert with Reason for the Good of her Child. However, he had a Stratagem in his Head, which kind Chance furnished him with, and which he hoped might be of some service to his Design, in order to put it in Practice, he made an Invitation to some of his nearest Neighbours, among which Lady Galliard and her Son were bidden; while they were at dinner, among the rest of the Attendants was a very spruce, clean Footman, who had something in his Air that look’d as if he was not born one. Mr. Friendly seemed to use him with some Deference, and said, pray Tom do so and so, Tom seemed very diligent, but a little aukward, and some of the Company observed a Tear often starting into his Eyes, which gave them a Curiosity to inquire who he was, and that gave a good Lift to Mr. Friendly’s Design. Dinner was no sooner over than he took the Opportunity and gave the Company the following Account:

This young Fellow whom you all seem to enquire after, and whom I received but three Days ago into my Family, was the Son of a private Gentleman, who had a very easy Fortune in Life, but by an ugly Accident broke his Leg, which threw him into a Fever and kill’d him. This poor young Man who was then about twelve Years of Age, is too sad an Example of the Want of Care in a Parent, for his Mother though a very modest and good Woman, was extremely covetous, which prevented all that Care which should have been taken towards making her Son a Man, she fancied Time and Nature would do as much for nothing, as if she should put her self to a deal of Charge, which perhaps at last would turn to no Account. Tom on the other Hand loved Play and Idleness, hated School and Learning, said he would never have any Thing to do with crabbed Greek that stuck in his Throat, and was ready to choak him, tho’ now and then for Variety he vouchsafed to make his Master a Visit, and handle a Grammar, though he was never rightly acquainted with its Rules. Time however would not wait till Reason Thought fit to show him his Folly; so spur’d on by his boyish Inclinations, and no body to restrain them, he run on from one Diversion to another, grown perfectly headstrong and spoiled till he was twenty Years of Age, at which Time his Mother fell sick, some say broken hearted at his Proceedings, which she might thank herself for, but be that as it will, she then died, and he was left for the other Year to the care of an Uncle, who managed so well as to cheat him of Part of his Estate, and the rest as soon as he came to age he squandered away on Game-Cocks and Race-Horses so that for want of due Discipline while he was a Boy, he was utterly ruin’d as too many of his betters have been before him, and is now grown up to Man as you all see under the honourable Circumstances of a Footman.

In all Probability Lady Galliard and her Son took the Application as it was designed to themselves, for they both coloured at the End of it, which Mr. Friendly perceived and was resolved to go on. We have the Advice of a very wise Man,²⁰ proceeded he, to train up Youth as we would have them act when riper Years take place. Learning we all know is the first Step towards the Improvement of our Sense, as good Conversation is towards that of our Manners, and it is so hard a Matter to bring a Man to an exact Behaviour in Life that he ought not to loose one Minute in the pursuit of it. But Madam, continued he, addressing Lady Galliard, now we are upon this Topick, may I with the Freedom of a Friend ask your Ladyship how Sir John is to spend his Time till he writes Man, methinks I long to see him in the Road his worthy Father travelled, to draw whose character requires too many Master-strokes for my shallow Capacity, nor would I attempt to delineate a Picture where the Original was so well known, your Fancies can form a better Judgement of his Perfections than a dull Discription from an unable Tongue, in short he was worthy of the Name of Man; which all who stand erect cannot make a just Title to, it requires a pretty deal of Pains to distinguish our selves from Brutes, we must have a Share of Probity, Honour, Gratitude, Good Sense, and a Complacency for our Species in general, to render us worthy...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• Chronology
• Note on the Text
• The Reform’d Coquet; or Memoirs of Amoranda
• Familiar Letters Betwixt a Gentleman and a Lady
• The Accomplish’d Rake, or Modern Fine Gentleman
• Appendix: The Grub-Street Journal Letters
• Notes on the Novels
• Bibliography