Be this a woman's fame: with this unbless'd, Toasts live a scorn, and queens may die a jest.

This Phoebus promised (I forget the year) When those blue eyes first open'd on the sphere; Ascendant Phoebus watch'd that hour with care, Averted half your parents' simple prayer; And gave you beauty, but denied the pelf That buys your sex a tyrant o'er itself.

The generous god, who wit and gold refines, And ripens spirits as he ripens mines, 290 Kept dross for duchesses, the world shall know it, To you gave sense, good-humour, and a poet.

VARIATIONS.

VER. 77 in the MS.--

In whose mad brain the mix'd ideas roll Of Tall-toy's breeches, and of Caesar's soul.

After VER. 122 in the MS.--

Oppress'd with wealth and wit, abundance sad!

One makes her poor, the other makes her mad.

After VER. 148 in the MS.--

This Death decides, nor lets the blessing fall On any one she hates, but on them all.

Cursed chance! this only could afflict her more, If any part should wander to the poor.

After VER. 198 in the MS.--

Fain I'd in Fulvia spy the tender wife; I cannot prove it on her, for my life: And, for a noble pride, I blush no less, Instead of Berenice, to think on Bess.

Thus while immortal Gibber only sings (As ----- and H---y preach) for queens and kings, The nymph that ne'er read Milton's mighty line, May, if she love, and merit verse, have mine

VER. 207 in the first edition--

In several men we several passions find; In women, two almost divide the kind.

EPISTLE III.[20]--TO ALLEN LORD BATHURST.

ARGUMENT.

OF THE USE OF RICHES.

That it is known to few, most falling into one of the extremes, avarice or profusion, ver. 1., &c. The point discussed, whether the invention of money has been more commodious, or pernicious to mankind, ver. 21 to 77.

That riches, either to the avaricious or the prodigal, cannot afford happiness, scarcely necessaries, ver. 89 to 160. That avarice is an absolute frenzy, without an end or purpose, ver. 113 to 152. Conjectures about the motives of avaricious men, ver. 121 to 153. That the conduct of men, with respect to riches, can only be accounted for by the order of Providence, which works the general good out of extremes, and brings all to its great end by perpetual revolutions, ver. 161 to 178. How a miser acts upon principles which appear to him reasonable, ver. 179. How a prodigal does the same, ver. l99. The due medium, and true use of riches, ver. 219. The Man of Ross, ver. 250. The fate of the profuse and the covetous, in two examples; both miserable in life and in death, ver.

300, &c. The story of Sir Balaam, ver. 339 to the end.

_P_. Who shall decide, when doctors disagree, And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me?

You hold the word, from Jove to Momus given, That man was made the standing jest of Heaven; And gold but sent to keep the fools in play, For some to heap, and some to throw away.

But I, who think more highly of our kind, (And, surely, Heaven and I are of a mind) Opine, that Nature, as in duty bound, Deep hid the shining mischief under ground: 10 But when, by man's audacious labour won, Flamed forth this rival to its sire, the Sun, Then careful Heaven supplied two sorts of men, To squander these, and those to hide again.

Like doctors thus, when much dispute has pass'd, We find our tenets just the same at last.

Both fairly owning, riches, in effect, No grace of Heaven or token of the elect; Given to the fool, the mad, the vain, the evil, To Ward,[21] to Waters, Chartres,[22] 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) Extends to luxury, extends to lust: 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 sap on from knave to knave.

Once, we confess, beneath the patriot's cloak,[23]

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! 40 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[24] to a distant shore; A leaf, like Sibyl's, scatter to and fro Our fates and fortunes, as the winds 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, encumber'd villainy! 50 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 slumbers how this speech would spoil!

'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[25] from street to street, Whom, with a wig so wild, and mien so mazed, Pity mistakes for some poor tradesman crazed.

Had Colepepper's[26] whole wealth been hops and hogs, 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 carried, as to ancient games, Fair coursers, vases, and alluring dames. 70 Shall then Uxorio, if the stakes he sweep, Bear home six whores and make his lady weep?

Or soft Adonis, so perfumed and fine, Drive to St James's a whole herd of swine?

Oh filthy check on all industrious skill, 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 clothes.

_B_. What more?

_P_. Meat, clothes, and fire. 80 Is this too little? would you more than live?

Alas! 'tis more than Turner[27] finds they give.

Alas! 'tis more than (all his visions past) Unhappy Wharton, waking, found at last!

What can they give? to dying Hopkins,[28] heirs; To Chartres, vigour; Japhet,[29] 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 the embroidery plaster'd at thy tail? 90 They might (were Harpax not too wise to spend) Give Harpax' self 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.[30]

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[31] damns the poor, and hates them from his heart: 100 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.

Yet, to be just to these poor men of pelf, Each does but hate his neighbour as himself: Damn'd to the mines, an equal fate betides The slave that digs it, and the slave that hides. 110

_B_. Who suffer thus, mere charity should own, Must act on motives powerful, though unknown.

_P_. Some war, some plague, or famine, they foresee, Some revelation hid from you and me.