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Blends, in exception to all gen'ral rules,
Your taste of follies with our scorn of fools;
Reserve with frankness, art with truth ally'd,
Courage with softness, modesty with pride;
Fix'd principles, with fancy ever new;
Shakes all together, and produces-you.

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Be this a Woman's fame : with this unblest, Toasts live a scorn, and queens may die a jest. This Phoebus promis'd (I forgot 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 pray'r,

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And gave you beauty, but deny'd the pelf
That buys your sex a tyrant o'er itself.
The gen'rous god, who wit and gold refines

And ripens spirits as he ripens mines,

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Kept dross for duchesses, the world shall know it,

To you gave sense, good humor, and a poet. 292

TO ALLEN, LORD BATHURST.

Of the Use of Riches.

The Argument.

THAT it is known to few, most falling into one of the extremes, avarice or profusion, v. 1, &c. The point discussed, whether the invention of money has been more commodious or pernicious to mankind, v. 21, to 77. That Riches, either to the avaricious or the prodigal, cannot afford happiness, scarcely necessaries, v. 89, to 160. That avarice is an absolute frenzy, without an end or purpose, v. 113, &c. 152. Conjectures about the motives of avaricious men, v. 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, v. 161, to 178. How a miser acts upon principles which appear to him reasonable, v. 179. How a prodigal does the same, v. 199. The due medium and true use of Riches, v. 219. The Man of Ross, v. 250. The fate of the profuse and the covetous, in two examples; both miserable in life and in death, v. 300, &c. The story of Sir Balaam, v. 339, to the end.

P.WHO shall decide, when doctors disagree,
And sounded casuits doubt, like you and me?

This Epistle was written after a violent outcry against our author, on a supposition that he had ridiculed a worthy Nobleman merely for his wrong taste. He justified himself upon that article in a letter to the Earl of Burlington; at the end of which are these words: 1have learnt that there are some fwho would rather be wicked than ridiculous: and there*fore it may be safer to attack vices than follies. 1 will there

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You hold the word, from Jove to Momus giv'n, 'That man was made the standing jest of Heav'n ; And gold but sent to keep the fools in play, 5

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For some to heap, and some to throw away.'

But I, who think more highly of our kind, (And surely Heav'n 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 labor won,
Flam'd forth this rival too, its sire the sun,
Then careful Heav'n supply'd two sorts of men,
To squander, these, and those, to hide agen.
Like doctors thus, when much dispute has past,
We find our tenets just the same at last :
Both fairly owning, Riches, in effect,
No grace of Heav'n or token of th' elect;
Giv'n to the fool, the mad, the vain, the evil,

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To Ward, to Waters, Chartres, and the devil. 20 B. What nature wants commodious gold be

stows,

'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 lust:

fore leave my betters in the quiet possession of their idols, their groves, and their high places; and change my sub ect from their pride to their meanness, from their vanities to their miseries, and as the only certain way to avoid misconstructions, to lessen offence, and not to multiply ill-natured appli'cations, I may probably, in my next, make use of real names ⚫ instead of fictitious ones.'

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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. B. It raises armies in a nation's aid; 31 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 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! 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 winds shall blow; Pregnant with thousands flits the scrap unseen, And silent sells a king, or buys a queen.

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Oh! that such bulky bribes as all might see, Still, as of old, incumber'd villany! 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.'

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Poor Avarice one torment more would find, Nor could Profusion squander all in kind. 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. Had Colepepper's whole wealth been hops and hogs, Could he himself have sent it to the dogs? 66 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,

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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 enquire;
Meat, fire, and clothes. B. What more? P. Meat,
clothes, and fire.
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Is this too little? would you more than live?
Alas! 'tis more than Turner finds they give;

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