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Sir Balaam now, he lives like other folks, He takes his chirping pint, and cracks his jokes: "Live like yourself," was foon my Lady's word; And lo! two puddings smoak'd upon the board. Afleep and naked as an Indian lay,

An honeft factor ftole a Gem away!

He pledg'd it to the knight; the knight had wit, So kept the Diamond, and the rogue was bit. Some scruple rofe, but thus he eas'd his thought, "I'll now give fix-pence where I gave a groat; "Where once I went to church, I'll now go twice"And am fo clear too of all other vice."

The Tempter faw his time; the work he ply'd;
Stocks and fubfcriptions pour on ev'ry fide,
'Till all the Daemon makes his full defcent
In one abundant fhow'r of Cent per Cent,
Sinks deep within him, and poffeffes whole,
Then Dubs Director, and fecures his foul.

Behold Sir Balaam now a man of spirit,
Afcribes his gettings to his parts and merit;
What late he call'd a Bleffing, now was Wit,
And God's good Providence, a lucky Hit.
Things change their titles, as our manners turn:
His Compting-house employ'd the Sunday-morn:
Seldom at Church ('twas fuch a bufy life)

But duly fent his family and wife.

There (fo the Dev'l ordain'd) one Christmas-tide
My good old Lady catch'd a cold, and dy'd.
A Nymph of Quality admires our Knight;
He marries, bows at Court, and grows polite:

5 Leaves the dull Cits, and joins (to please the Fair)
The well-bred cuckolds in St. James's air:
First, for his Son a gay Commission buys,
Who drinks, whores, fights, and in a duel dies:
His Daughter flaunts a Viscount's tawdry wife:
She bears a Coronet and P-x for life.
In Britain's Senate he a feat obtains,
And one more Penfioner St. Stephen gains.
My Lady falls to play; fo bad her chance,
He must repair it; takes a bribe from France;
The Houfe impeach him; Coningsby harangues;
The Court forfake him, and Sir Balaam hangs :
Wife, fon, and daughter, Satan! are thy own,
His wealth, yet dearer, forfeit to the Crown:
The Devil and the King divide the prize,
And fad Sir Balaam curfes God and dies.

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THE Vanity of Expence in People of Wealth and Quality. The abuse of the word Tafte, ver. 13That the first principle and foundation in this, as in every thing elfe, is Good fenfe, ver. 40. The chief proof of it is to follow Nature, even in works of mere Luxury and Elegance. Inftanced in Architecture and Gardening, where all must be adapted to the Genius and Ufe of the Place, and the Beauties not forced into it, but refulting from it, ver. 50, How men are disappointed in their most expensive undertakings, fot want of this true Foundation, without which nothing can please long, if at all; and the best Examples and Rules will but be perverted into fomething burdenfome or ridiculous, ver, 65, &c. to 92. A description of the falfe Taste of Magnificence; the first grand error of which is to imagine

that Greatness consists in the Size and Dimenfion, instead of the Proportion and Harmony of the whole, ver. 97. and the second, either in joining together Parts incoherent, or too minutely refembling, or in the Repetition of the fame too frequently, ver. 105, &c. A word or two of falfe Tafte in Books, in Mufic, in Painting, even in Preaching and Prayer, and laftly in Entertainments, ver. 133, &c. Yet PROVIDENCE is justified in giving Wealth to be fquandered in this manner, fince it is difperfed to the Poor and Laborious part of mankind, ver. 169. [recurring to what is laid down in the first Book, Ep. ii. and in the epiftle preceding this, ver. 159, &c.] What are the proper Objects of Magnificence, and a proper field for the Expence of Great Men, ver. 177, &c. and finally the Great and Public Works which become a Prince, ver. 191, to the end.

'TIS ftrange, the Mifer should his Cares employ To gain thofe riches he can ne'er enjoy :

Is it lefs ftrange, the prodigal should wafte
His wealth, to purchase what he ne'er can taste?
Not for himfelf he fees, or hears, or eats;
Artists must chufe his Pictures, Mufic, Meats:
He buys for Topham, Drawings and Designs,
For Pembroke Statues, dirty Gods, and Coins;
Rare monkish Manufcripts for Hearne alone,
And Books for Mead, and Butterflies for Sloane.
Think we all thefe are for himfelf? no more
Than his fine Wife, alas! or finer Whore.

For what has Virro painted, built, and planted! Only to fhew, how many tastes he wanted.

What brought Sir Vifto's ill-got wealth to waste ?
Some Daemon whisper'd, "Vifto! have a Taste."
Heav'n vifits with a Tafte the Wealthy fool,
And needs no Rod but Ripley with a Ṛule.
See! Sportive Fate, to punish aukward pride,
Bids Bubo build, and fends him fuch a Guide :
A ftanding fermon, at each year's expence,
That never Coxcomb reach'd Magnificence !

You how us, Rome was glorious, not profuse,
And pompous Buildings once were things of Ufe.
Yet fhall (my Lord) your juft, your noble rules
Fill half the land with imitating-Fools;
Who random drawings from your fheets fhall take,
And of one beauty many blunders make;
Load fome vain Church with old Theatric state,
Turns Arcs of triumph to a Garden-gate;
Reverse your ornaments, and hang them all
On fome patch'd dog-hole ek'd with ends of wall;
Then clap four flices of Pilafter on't,

That, lac'd with bits of ruftic, makes a Front:
Shall call the wind thro' long arcades to roar,
Proud to catch cold at a Venetian door;
Confcious they act a true Palladian part,
And if they starve, they starve by rules of art.
Oft have you hinted to your brother Peer,
A certain truth, which many buy too dear :
Something there is more needful than Expence,
And fomething previous ev'n to Tafte-'tis Senfe:

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