See him, with pains of body, pangs of soul,

Durn through the tropic, freeze beneath the pole!
Wilt thou do nothing for a nobler end,
Nothing to make philosophy thy friend?

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still!

To stop thy foolish views, thy long desires,
And ease thy heart of all that it admires?
Here, Wisdom calls: "Seek virtue first, be bold!
"As gold to silver, virtue is to gold."
There, London's voice: "Get money, money
"And then let virtue follow, if she will."
This, this the saving doctrine, preach'd to all,
From low St. James's up to high St. Paul;
From him whose quills stand quiver'd at his ear,
To him who notches sticks at Westminster.

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85

Barnard in spirit, sense, and truth abounds; "Pray then, what wants he?" Fourscore thousand pounds;

A pension, or such harness for a slave

As Bug now has, and Dorimant would have.
Barnard, thou art a cit, with all thy worth;
But Bug and D*1, Their Honours, and so forth.
Yet ev'ry child another song will sing,
"Virtue, brave boys! 'tis virtue makes a king."

VER. 84. notches sticks] Exchequer tallies.

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True,

VER. 85. Barnard] Sir John Barnard, Knight, was born at Reading, and brought up at a school at Wandsworth in Surry; his parents were Quakers. In 1703, he quitted the Society of Quakers, was received into the church by Compton, Bishop of London, and continued a member of it. He became a celebrated member of Parliament, and an eminent merchant and magistrate of London.

True, conscious honour is to feel no sin,
He's arm'd without that's innocent within;
Be this thy screen, and this thy wall of brass;
Compar'd to this, a minister's an ass.

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And say, to which shall our applause belong, This new court jargon, or the good old song? The modern language of corrupted peers, Or what was spoke at CRESSY and POITIERS? Who counsels best? who whispers, "Be but great, "With praise or infamy leave that to fate; "Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace; "If not, by any means get wealth and place."

For what? to have a box where eunuchs sing,
And foremost in the circle eye a king.

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Or he, who bids thee face with steddy view
Proud fortune, and look shallow greatness through:
And, while he bids thee, sets th' example too?

If such a doctrine, in St. James's air,

Should chance to make the well-drest rabble stare;

ΙΙΟ

If honest S*z take scandal at a spark,
That less admires the palace than the park:
Faith I shall give the answer Reynard gave :
"I cannot like, dread Sir, your royal cave:
"Because I see, by all the tracks about,
"Full many a beast goes in, but none comes out.”
Adieu to virtue, if you're once a slave:

Send her to court, you send her to her
Well, if a king's a lion, at the least

The people are a many-headed beast:

grave.

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Can

Can they direct what measures to pursue,

Who know themselves so little what to do?

Alike in nothing but one lust of gold,

Just half the land would buy, and half be sold: 125
Their country's wealth our mightier misers drain,
Or cross, to plunder provinces, the main ;

The rest, some farm the poor-box, some the pews;
Some keep assemblies, and would keep the stews;
Some with fat bucks on childless dotards fawn; 130
Some win rich widows by their chine and brawn ;
While with the silent growth of ten per cent,
In dirt and darkness, hundreds stink content.
Of all these ways, if each pursues his own,
Satire, be kind, and let the wretch alone:
But shew me one who has it in his pow'r
To act consistent with himself an hour.

$35

Sir Job sail'd forth, the ev'ning bright and still, "No place on earth (he cry'd) like Greenwich-hill!” Up starts a palace, lo, th' obedient base

Slopes at its foot, the woods its sides embrace,

The silver Thames reflects its marble face.

Now let some whimsey, or that dev'l within

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Which guides all those who know not what they mean, But give the knight (or give his lady) spleen ; "Away, away! take all your scaffolds down, "For snug's the word: My dear! we'll live in town."

At am'rous Flavio is the stocking thrown?

That very night he longs to lie alone.

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The

The fool, whose wife elopes some thrice a quarter,
For matrimonial solace dies a martyr.

Did ever Proteus, Merlin, any witch,

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Transform themselves so strangely as the rich? Well, but the poor-the poor have the same itch; They change their weekly barber, weekly news, Prefer a new japanner to their shoes,

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Discharge their garrets, move their beds, and run
(They know not whither) in a chaise and one;
They hire their sculler, and when once abroad,
Grow sick, and damn the climate-like a lord. 160
You laugh, half beau, half sloven if I stand,
My wig all powder, and all snuff my band;
You laugh, if coat and breeches strangely vary,
White gloves, and linen worthy Lady Mary!
But when no prelate's lawn with hair-shirt lin❜d,
Is half so incoherent as my mind,

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When (each opinion with the next at strife,
One ebb and flow of follies all my life)

I plant, root up; I build, and then confound;

Turn round to square, and square again to round;

You never change one muscle of your face,

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You think this madness but a common case,

Nor once to Chanc'ry, nor to Hale apply;
Yet hang your lip, to see a seam awry!
Careless how ill I with myself agree,
Kind to my dress, my figure, not to me,

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Is this my guide, philosopher, and friend?

This he, who loves me, and who ought to mend?

Who

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Who ought to make me (what he can, or none)
That man divine whom wisdom calls her own;
Great without title, without fortune bless'd;
Rich ev'n when plunder'd, honour'd while oppress'd;
Lov'd without youth, and follow'd without pow'r;
At home, tho' exil'd; free, tho' in the Tow'r ;
In short, that reas'ning, high, immortal thing,
Just less than Jove, and much above a king,
Nay, half in heav'n-except (what's mighty odd)
A fit of vapours clouds this demy-god.

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