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But when, by Man's audacious labour won,
Flam'd forth this rival too, its Sire, the Sun,
Then careful Heaven supply'd two sorts of Men,
To squander These, and Those to hide again.

Like Doctors thus, when much dispute has past.
We find our tenets just the same at last.
Both fairly owning, Riches, in effect,

of Heaven or token of th' Elect; Given to the Fool, the Mad, the Vain, the Evil,

To Ward, to Waters, Chartres, and the Devil. 20 B. What Nature wants, commodious Gold bestows,

'Tis thus we eat the bread another sows. P. But how unequal it bestows, observe;

'Tis thus we riot, while, who sow it, starve :
What Nature wants (a phrase I much distrust) 25
Extends to Luxury, extends to Luft:
Useful, I grant, it serves what life requires,

But dreadful too, the dark Assassin hires :
B. Trade it may help, Society extend :
P. But lures the Pirate, and corrupts the Friend. 30
B. It raises Armies in a Nation's aid :
P. But bribes a Senate, and the Land 's betray'd.

In vain may Heroes fight, and Patriots rave;
If secret Gold fap on from knave to knave.
Once, we confess, beneath the Patriot's cloak, 35
From the crack'd bag the dropping Guinea spoke,
And jingling down the back-stairs, told the crew,
“ Old Cato is as great a rogue as you.”
Blest Paper-credit ! last and best supply!
That lends Corruption lighter wings to fly!


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Gold, imp'd by thee, can compass hardest things,
Can pocket States, can fetch or carry Kings ;
A single leaf shall waft an Army o’er,
Or ship-off Senates to some distant Shore;
A leaf, like Sibyl's, scatter to and fro

Our fates and fortunes, as the wind shall blow :
Pregnant with thousands flits the Scrap unseen,
And silent sells a King, or buys a Queen.

Oh! that such bulky Bribes as all might see, Still, as of old, incumber'd Villainy! Could France or Rome divert our brave designs, With all their brandies, or with all their wines ? What could they more than Knights and 'Squires

confound, Or water all the Quorum ten miles round? A statesman's Numbers how this speech would spoil! 55 “ Sir, Spain has sent a thousand jars of oil ;

Huge bales of British cloth blockade the door;
A hundred oxen at your levee roar.”

Poor Avarice one torment more would find;
Nor could Profusion squander all in kind.

60 Astride his cheese Sir Morgan might we meet : And Worldly crying coals from street to street, Whom, with a wig so wild, and mien so maz’d, Pity mistakes for some poor tradesman craz'd.


After ver. 50. in the MS.
To break a trust were Peter brib’d with wine,
Peter! 'twould pose as wise a head as thinc.

Had Colepepper's whole wealth been hops and hog's, 65
Could he himself have sent it to the dogs ?
His Grace will game: to White's a Bull be led,
With spurning heels and with a butting head.
To White's be carry'd, as to ancient games,
Fair Coursers, Vases, and alluring Dames.

Shall then Uxorio, if the stakes he sweep,
Bear home six Whores, and make his Lady weep?
Or soft Adonis, so perfum'd and fine,
Drive to St. James's a whole herd of swine?
Oh filthy check on all industrious skill,

75 To spoil the nation's last great trade, Quadrille ! Since then, my Lord, on such a World we fall, What say you? B. Say? Why take it, Gold and all.

P. What Riches give us, let us then inquire ?
Meat, Fire, and Cloaths. B. What more? P. Meat,

Cloaths, and Fire.
Is this too little ? would you more than live?
Alas! 'tis more than Turner finds they give.
Alas! ’tis more than (all his visions past)
Unhappy Wharton, waking, found at last !
What can they give ? to dying Hopkins, Heirs ;

To Chartres, Vigour; Japhet, Nose and Ears ?
Can they, in gems bid pallid Hippia glow,
In Fulvia's buckle ease the throbs below;
Or heal, old Narses, thy obscener ail,
With all th’ embroidery plaister'd at thy tail? 90

Ver. 77. Since then, &c.] In the former Ed.

Well then, since with the world we stand or fall,
Come take it, as we find it, Gold and all.

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They might (were Harpax not too wise to spend)
Give Harpax felf the blessing of a Friend ;
Or find some Doctor that would save the life
Of wretched Shylock, spite of Shylock's Wife:
But thousands die, without or this or that,

Die, and endow a College, or a Cat.
To some, indeed, Heaven grants the happier fate,
T'enrich a Bastard, or a Son they hate.

Perhaps you think the Poor might have their part, Bond damns the Poor, and hates them from his heart; 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 ftarves”—and piously denies : But the good Bishop, with a meeker air,

105 Admits, and leaves them, Providence's care.

Yet to be just to these poor inen of pelf,
Each does þut hate his neighbour 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, fome Plague, or Famine, they foresee, Some Revelation hid from you and me. Why Shylock wants a meal, the cause is found, 115 He thinks a Loaf will rise to fifty pound. What made Directors cheat in Scuth-sea year? To live on Venison when it fold so dear. Ask you why Phrine 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.

Wife Peter sees the World's respect for Gold,
And therefore hopes this Nation may be fold :
Glorious Ambition ! Peter, swell thy store, 125
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.

130 Congenial souls; whose life one Avarice joins, And one fate buries in th’ Asturian Mines.

Much-injur'd Blunt! why bears he Britain's hate ? A wizard told him in these words our fate : “ 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,

140 And Judges job, and Bishops bite the town, “ And mighty Dukes pack cards for half a crown. " See Britain funk in lucre's sordid charms, And France reveng’d of Anne's and EDWARD'S

" arms!” ”Twas no Court-badge, great Scrivener, fir'd thy brain, Nor lordly Luxury, nor City Gain : No, 'twas thy righteous end, alham'd to see Senates degenerate, Patriots disagree,


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