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But think not Reader that there are many fuch abominable human Brutes: Let us take our Eyes off thofe blafphemous Mifers, and turn to a Character which we have read with Pleafure more than an hundred Times:

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But all our Praifes why fhould Lords engrofs? Rife honeft Mufe! and fing the Man of Ross: Pleas'd Vaga ecchoes thro' her winding Bounds, And rapid Severn hoarse Applaufe refounds. Who hung with Woods yon Mountain's fultry Brow From the dry Rock who made the Waters flow? Not to the Skies in ufelefs Columns toft, MA 73 Or in proud Falls magnificently loft, ***** But clear and artlefs, pouring through the Plain Health to the Sick, and Solace to the e to the Si Swain. Whofe Caufe-way parts the Vale with fhady Rows Whofe Seats the weary Traveller repofe?

Who taught directed Spires to rife?

that Heav'n

The Man of Ross, each lifping Babe replies..
Behold the Market-place with Poor de'rfpread!
The Man of Ross divides the weekly Bread:
He feeds yon Alms-house neat, but void of State,
Where Age and Want fit fmiling at the Gate:
Him portion Maids, apprentic'd Orphans bleft,
The Young who labour, and the Old who reft.
Is any fick the Man of Ross relieves, to ge
Prefcribes, attends, the Med'cine makes, and gives.
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The Perfon here celebrated, who with a mall Eftate actually perform'd a thefe good Works, and whofe -true Name was almost loft (partly by the Title of the Man of Refs given him by Way of Eminence, and partly by being buried without fo much as an Infcription) was call'd Mr. John Kyrle. He died in the Year 1724, aged 90, and lie interr'd in the Chancel of the Church of Ross in Herefordshire. ༢༠ ༧ པ 1 : ཀྱར ཀ

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Is there a Variance? enter but his Door,
Balk'd are the Courts, and Contest is no more.
Defpairing Quacks with Curfes fled the Place,
And vile Attornies, now an useless Race.
"Thrice happy Man! enabled to pursue
"What all fo wifh, but want the Pow'r to do.
"Oh fay, what Sums that gen'rous Hand fupply
"What Mines to fwell that boundless Charity?
Of Debts and Taxes, Wife and Children clear,
This Man poffeft-five hundred Pounds a Year.
Bluth Grandeur, blufh! proud Courts withdraw your
Ye little Stars! hide your diminish'd Rays. [Blaze!
"And what no Monument, Infcription, Stone
"His Race, his Form, his Name almost unknown?
"His Race,hurch to God, and not to
Who builds

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fil

o Fame, Will never mark the Marble with his Name: Go fearch it there*, where to be born and die, Of Rich and Poor makes all the Hiftory Enough, that Virtue fills the Space between; Prov❜d, by the Ends of Being, to have been.

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to nell

It may be plainly perceiv'd that Mr. Pope preferr'd the Man of Rofs to the great Man mention'd immediately after, which was no lefs then George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, who died, after a whimsical and chimerical Life exceeding poor, in the worst Room of a very bad Inn.

Riches are doubtlefs yery great Bleffings, if made fo, and it must be an extreme pleafing Thought to have it one's Power to do good, to relieve the Sick and Hungry, and cloath the Naked, to relieve the Orphan and the Widow, and fet the Prisoner at Liberty; to have the neceflary Comforts of Life always at Command, and the Power of faving a Friend

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The Parish Register.

from Bankruptcy, perhaps from quitting his Country, or being forc'd into a Confinement for Life, thefe Things are all exceeding great Pleafures to Minds well feafon'd with Humanity, and the generous Delight of doing and communicating Good; it is not fufficient to love or praise Society, and Actions of Benevolence and Beneficence, but to do them too, and there are very few, if any, in fuch diftrefs'a Circumftances, but they might find frequent Occafions to exercise their Talent, and the Power which they at Times may have to do Good: But on the contrary, Riches are the fpoiling of many People, who without them were fafe enough, fome they make imperious, fome covetous, fome extravagant, and others only make use of them to obtain and purchafe that very Iniquity that they ought to be glad to be depriv'd of all their Riches to avoid; it is in these Cafes that Riches are dangerous and a Snare; but, on the other Hand, they bring Safety, and certain Peace: They are, as they are employ'd, may be a Bribe, or a Reward, may purchase Neceffaries or Prodigalities, pay Harlots, or give Portions to Virgins, buy Criminals from Punishment, or hire Affaffins to murder the Innocent; they are like most other Things (if not all with which Man has to do) in his Power, to be made to become to him very ufeful, or very hurtful.

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An Inftance of the total Deftruction of a Man by becoming very rich, Mr. Pope concludes this Epistle to the Lord Bathurst with:

Where* London's Column pointing at the Skies Like a tall Bully, lifts the Head, and lyes:

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There

The Monument built in memory of the Fire of London, with an Infcription importing that City to have been burnt by the Papifts, which Mr. Pope, as a Papift, is loth

to

There dwelt a Citizen of fober Fame,
A plain good Man, and Balaam was his Name.
Religious, punctual, frugal, and fo 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 againft his Cornif Lands they roar, And two rich Ship-wrecks blefs the lucky Shore,

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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 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 Six-pence where I gave a Groat, "Where once I went to Church, I'll now'go twiceAnd am fo clear too of all other Vice 43 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 Descent; 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.

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 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 : Leaves the dull Cits, and joins (to please the Fair) The well-bred Cuckolds in St. James's Air: Firft, 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 distinguish'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