The grave sir Gilbert holds it for a rule,
That every man in want is knave or fool.

'God cannot love,' says Blunt, with tearless eyes,
The wretch he starves;' and piously denies :
But the good bishop, with a meeker air,
Admits, and leaves them, Providence's care.

105

109

Yet, to be just to these poor men of pelf, Each does but hate his neighbor as himself: Damn'd to the mines, an equal fate betides The slave that digs it and the slave that hides. B. Who suffer thus, mere charity should own, Must act on motives powerful, though unknown. P. Some war, some plague, or famine they foresee,

you

and me.

116

Some revelation hid from
Why Shylock wants a meal, the cause is found;
He thinks a loaf will rise to fifty pound.
What made directors cheat in South-sea year?
To live on venison when it sold so dear.
Ask you why Phryne the whole auction buys?
Phryne foresees a general excise:
Why she and Sappho raise that monstrous sum?
Alas! they fear a man will cost a plum.

120

105 But the good bishop. In the folio edition of 1735, this had been sir Robert Sutton; but Warburton, to whom Sutton had been an early patron, and given the living of Broadbroughton, prevailed on Pope to erase the name. The imaginary bishop then took his place. It was the foolish fashion of the time to ridicule church dignitaries indiscriminately; and Pope could scarcely be expected to exhibit his wisdom at the expense of his prejudices.

118 To live on venison. In the extravagance and luxury of the South-sea year, the price of a haunch of venison was from three to five pounds.-Pope.

125

Wise Peter sees the world's respect for gold, And therefore hopes this nation may be sold. Glorious ambition! Peter, swell thy store, And be what Rome's great Didius was before. The crown of Poland, venal twice an age, To just three millions stinted modest Gage: But nobler scenes Maria's dreams unfold; Hereditary realms, and worlds of gold. Congenial souls! whose life one avarice joins, And one fate buries in the Asturian mines. Much-injured Blunt! why bears he Britain's

hate?

A wizard told him in these words our fate :

130

123 Wise Peter. Peter Walter, a person not only eminent in the wisdom of his profession, as a dexterous attorney, but allowed to be a good, if not a safe conveyancer; extremely respected by the nobility of this land, though free from all manner of luxury and ostentation. His wealth was never seen, and his bounty never heard of, except to his own son, for whom he procured an employment of considerable profit, of which he gave him as much as was necessary. He purchased Stalbridge-park, near Sherborne, a seat of the Boyle family, now in possession of the earl of Uxbridge, where he lived many years. He was a neighbor of Henry Fielding, who lived at East Stour, about four miles distant; and was supposed to be the character described by him in Tom Jones, the important Peter Pounce.-Pope.

126 Rome's great Didius. A Roman lawyer, so rich as to purchase the empire when it was set to sale on the death of Pertinax.-Pope.

127 The crown of Poland, &c. The two persons here mentioned, Mr. Gage, and lady Mary Herbert, daughter of William, marquis of Powis, in the Mississippi despised to realise above £300,000; the gentleman with a view to the purchase of the crown of Poland, the lady on a vision of the like royal nature.-Pope.

129 Maria's dreams. Lady Mary Herbert, daughter of Wil. liam, marquis of Powis.-Pope.

133 Much-injured Blunt. Sir John Blunt, originally a scrivener,

'At length, corruption, like a general flood, 135
So long by watchful ministers withstood,
Shall deluge all; and avarice, creeping on,
Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun;
Statesman and patriot ply alike the stocks,
Peeress and butler share alike the box,
And judges job, and bishops bite the town,
And mighty dukes pack cards for half a crown.
See Britain sunk in lucre's sordid charms,

140

And France revenged on Anne's and Edward's arms!'

'Twas no court badge, great scrivener! fired thy brain,

Nor lordly luxury, nor city gain:

No, 'twas thy righteous end, ashamed to see
Senates degenerate, patriots disagree,
And nobly wishing party rage to cease,
To buy both sides, and give thy country peace.
All this is madness,' cries a sober sage:
But who, my friend, has reason in his rage?
The ruling passion, be it what it will,
The ruling passion conquers reason still.'

145

151

Less mad the wildest whimsey we can frame, 155
Than ev'n that passion, if it has no aim;
For though such motives folly you may call,
The folly's greater to have none at all.

Hear then the truth:-"Tis Heaven each pas

sion sends,

And different men directs to different ends. 160

was one of the first projectors of the South-sea company, and afterwards one of the directors and chief managers of the famous scheme in 1720. He was also one of those who suffered most severely by the bill of pains and penalties on the said directors.-Pope.

Extremes in nature equal good produce;

Extremes in man concur to general use.'

Ask me what makes one keep and one bestow?
That Power who bids the ocean ebb and flow; 164
Bids seed-time, harvest, equal course maintain,
Through reconciled extremes of drought and rain;
Builds life on death, on change duration founds,
And gives the eternal wheels to know their rounds.
Riches, like insects, when conceal'd they lie,
Wait but for wings, and in their season fly.
Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store,
Sees but a backward steward for the poor;
This year a reservoir, to keep and spare;
The next, a fountain, spouting through his heir;
In lavish streams to quench a country's thirst; 175
And men and dogs shall drink him till they
burst.

170

180

Old Cotta shamed his fortune and his birth, Yet was not Cotta void of wit or worth. What though, the use of barbarous spits forgot, His kitchen vied in coolness with his grot? His court with nettles, moats with cresses stored, With soups unbought and salads bless'd his board? If Cotta lived on pulse, it was no more Than bramins, saints, and sages did before. To cram the rich was prodigal expense,

185

And who would take the poor from Providence? Like some lone Chartreux stands the good old hall,

Silence without, and fasts within the wall:

173 This year a reservoir. A quaint idea borrowed from old Fuller, in his Church History.'

No rafter'd roofs with dance and tabor sound;
No noontide bell invites the country round:
Tenants with sighs the smokeless towers survey,
And turn the unwilling steeds another way:
Benighted wanderers, the forest o'er,
Curse the saved candle and unopening door;
While the gaunt mastiff, growling at the gate,
Affrights the beggar whom he longs to eat.

Not so his son; he mark'd this oversight,
And then mistook reverse of wrong for right:
For what to shun will no great knowlege need;
But what to follow, is a task indeed.
Yet, sure, of qualities deserving praise,
More go to ruin fortunes, than to raise.

190

196

200

205

What slaughter'd hecatombs, what floods of wine,
Fill the capacious squire and deep divine!
Yet no mean motive this profusion draws;
His oxen perish in his country's cause;
'Tis George and Liberty that crowns the cup,
And zeal for that great house which eats him up.
The woods recede around the naked seat;
The sylvans groan-no matter-for the fleet: 210
Next goes his wool, to clothe our valiant bands;
Last, for his country's love, he sells his lands.
To town he comes, completes the nation's hope,
And heads the bold train-bands, and burns a pope.
And shall not Britain now regard his toils,— 215
Britain, that pays her patriots with her spoils ?
In vain at court the bankrupt pleads his cause;
His thankless country leaves him to her laws.

After ver. 218, in the Ms.

Where one lean herring furnish'd Cotta's board,
And nettles grew, fit porridge for their lord;