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There dwelt a Citizen of fober Fame,
A plain good Man, and Balaam was his Name..
Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth;
His Word would pafs for more than he was worth.
One folid Dish his Week-day Meal affords,
An added Pudding folemniz'd the Lord's.

Conftant at Church, and Change; his Gains were
His Givings rare, fave Farthings to the Poor. [fure,
The Dev'l was piqu'd, fuch Saintship to behold,
And long'd to tempt him like good Job of old:
But Satan now is wifer than of Yore,

And tempts by making rich, not making poor.

Rouz'd by the Prince of Air, the Whirlwinds The Surge, and plunge his Father in the Deep; [fweep Then full against his Cornish Lands they roar, And two rich Ship-wrecks bless the lucky Shore. Sir Balaam now, he lives like other Folks, He takes his chirping Pint, he cracks his Jokes: "Live like Yourself," was foon my Lady's Word; And lo! two Puddings fmoak'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 Six-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 Subfcriptions pour on ev'ry Side,
Till all the Dæmon makes his full Defcent,
In one abundant Shower of Cent. per Cent..

Sinks

to affent to; but if it was not fet on Fire by Papifts, it is not doubted but it was done on fet Purpose, and that there was a fecret Hand of Power at the Bottom,

EARL OF BURLINGTON

Sinks deep within him, and poffeffes Whole,
Then dubs Director, and fecures his Soul.

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 busy Life)
But duly fent his Family and Wife.

There (fo the Bev'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:
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 Commiffion buys,

Who drinks, whores, fights, and in a Duel dies:
His Daughter flaunts a Viscount's tawdry Wife;
She bears a Coronet and Pox for Life.

In Britain's Senate he a Seat obtains,
And one more Penfioner St. Stephen gains.
My Lady falls to Play: So bad her Chance,
He muft repair it; takes a Bribe from France;
The Houfe impeach him; Coningsby harangues,
The Court forfake him, and Sir Balaam hangs :
Wife, Son, 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.

And the Poet goes on upon the fame Subject to the Earl of Burlington, a Nobleman-worthy the greatest Praise, of a diftinguish'd and true Tafte, and a very great Friend to Mr. Pope and his Writings, and indeed It has been much Matter of Wonder to us, confidering

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the great Love and Esteem there was between them, that we do not find the Earl of Burlington's Name in Mr. Pope's Will, we do not mean otherwife than that it might have been expected, that out of Mr. Pope's Collection of Books, and other Curiofities, fomething might have been found, which might have remain'd with my Lord, as a Memorial of the long Friendfhp between them-This Epiftle, of which we are now about to speak, is a Corollary to the preceeding. As that treated of the Extremes of Avarice and Profufion, this takes up one Branch of the latter, the Vanity of Expence in People of Quality or Fortune, and the Poet admires that Mifers fhould be fo anxious to heap up Riches, which they never can have Enjoyment of, and Prodigals fpend fo much Money, in what they have no Tafe of; he ridicules feveral patch'd Buildings, and Buildings of ill Tafte, to tafte Architecture he fays, Senfe fhould be previous, of which the chief Proof is to follow Nature, and adapt all to the Nature and Ufe of the Place, the Beauties not forced into it, but refulting from it.

After this, Mr. Pope goes on with a Description, intended to comprize the Principles of a falfe Tafte of Magnificence, and to exemplify what was faid before, that nothing but good Senfe can attain it; the firft wrong Principle is to think that true Greatness confifts in Size and Dimenfion, whereas, let the Work be ever fo vaft, unless the Parts cohere in one Harmony, it will be but a great many Littlenefles put together, there must be no Difproportion, nor the Ends and Bounds muft not be seen at once, which, however large, will diminish both the Grandeur and the Surprize. Mr. Pope fays thus:

At Timon's Villa let us pass a Day,

Where all cry out, "what Sums are thrown away!

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