With splendor, charity; with plenty, health; 225
Oh! teach us, Bathurst! yet unspoil❜d by wealth !
That secret rare, between th' extremes to move
Of mad good-nature, and of mean self-love.
B. To worth or want well-weigh'd be bounty
giv'n,
And ease, or emulate the care of Heav'n; 230
(Whose measure full o'erflows on human race)
Mend Fortune's fault, and justify her grace.
Wealth in the gross is death, but life, diffus'd;
As poison heals, in just proportion us'd:
In heaps, like ambergris, a stink it lies,
But well disper'd, is incense to the skies.
P. Who starves by nobles, or with nobles, eats? The wretch that trusts them, and the rogue that
Is there a lord, who knows a cheerful noon
Without a fiddler, flatt'rer, or buffoon?
Whose table, wit, or modest merit share,
Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or play'r?
Who copies your's, or Oxford's better part,
To ease th' oppress'd, and raise the sinking heart?
Where'er he shines, oh Fortune, gild the scene, 245
And angels guard him in the golden mean!
There, English bounty yet a while may stand,
And honor linger ere it leaves the land.
But all our praises why should lords engross? Rise, honest Muse! and sing the Man of Ross: 250 Pleas'd Vaga echoes through her winding bounds, And rapid Severn hoarse applause resounds.
Who hung with woods yon mountain's sultry brow?
From the dry rock who bade the waters flow?
Not to the skies in useless columns tost,
Or in proud falls magnificently lost,
But clear and artless, pouring through the plain
Health to the sick, and solace to the swain.
Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows?
Whose seats the weary traveller repose?' 260
Whe taught the heav'n-directed spire to rise?
'The Man of Ross,' each lisping babe replies.
Behold the market-place with poor o'erspread !
The Man of Ross divides the weekly bread;
He feeds yon almshouse, neat, but void of state, 265
Where age and want sit smiling at the gate:
Him portion'd maids, apprentic'd orphans, blest,
The young who labor, and the old who rest.
Is any sick? The man of Róss relieves,
Prescribes, attends, the med'cine makes, and gives.
Is there a variance ? enter but his door, 271
Balk'd are the courts, and contest is no more.
Despairing quacks with curses fled the place,
And vile attornies, now an useless race.
B. Thrice happy Man! enabled to pursue 275
What all so wish, but want the pow'r to do!
Oh! say what sums that gen'rous hand supply?
What mines so swell that boundless charity?
P. Of debts and taxes, wife and children, clear, This Man possess'd-five hundred pounds a-year.
Blush, Grandeur, blush! proud Courts! withdraw your blaze;
Ye little stars! hide your diminish'd rays.
B. And what? no monument, inscription,
His race, his form, his name almost unknown?
P. Who builds a church to God, and not to
Will never mark the marble with his name.
Go, search it there, where to be born and die,
Of rich and poor makes all the history;
Enough, that virtue fill'd the space between,
Prov'd, by the ends of being, to have been. 290
When Hopkins dies, a thousand lights attend
The wretch, who living sav'd a candle's end;
Should'ring God's altar a vile image stands,
Belies his features, nay extends his hands;
That live-long wig, which Gorgon's self might
Eternal buckle takes in Parian stone.
Behold what blessings wealth to life can lend!
And, see what comfort it affords our end.
In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half
The floors of plaister, and the walls of dung, 300
On once a flock-bed, but repair'd with straw,
With tape-ty'd curtains, never meant to draw,
The George and Garter dangling from that bed
Where tawdry yellow strove with dirty red,
Great Villiers lies-alas! how chang'd from him,
That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim! 306
Gallant and gay, in Cliveden's proud alcove,
The bow'r of wanton Shrewsbury and love;
Or just as gay, at council, in a ring
Of mimic statesmen, and their merry king. 310
No wit to flatter, left of all his store!
No fool to laugh at, which he valu’d more:
There, victor of his health, of fortune, friends,
And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends !
His Grace's fate sage Cutler could foresee, 315
And well (he thought) advis'd him, 'Live like me.'
As well his Grace reply'd," Like you, Sir John?
"That I can do, when all I have is gone!"
Resolve me, Reason, which of these is worse,
Want with a full, or with an empty purse? 320
Thy life more wretched, Cutler, was confess'd;
Arise, and tell me, was thy death more bless'd ?
Cutler saw tenants break, and houses fall,
For very want: he could not build a wall.
His only daughter in a stranger's pow'r,
For very want: he could not pay a dow'r.
A few grey hairs his rev'rend temples crown'd;
'Twas very want that sold them for two pound.
What ev'n deny'd a cordial at his end,
Banish'd the doctor, and expell'd the friend ? 330
What but a want, which you perhaps think mad,
Yet numbers feel, the want of what he bad!
Cutler and Brutus, dying, both exclaim,
'Virtue! and Wealth! what are you but a name?'
Say, for such worth are other worlds prepar❜d? Or are they both in this their own reward? A knotty point! to which we now proceed. But you are tir'd—I'll tell a tale—B. Agreed, · P. Where London's column, pointing at the
Like a tall bully lifts the head, and lies,
There dwelt a citizen of sober fame,
A plain good man, and Balaam was his name;
Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth,
His word would pass for more than he was worth. One solid dish his week-day meal affords,
An added pudding solemniz'd the Lord's ;
Constant at Church, and 'Change; his gains were
His givings rare, save farthings to the poor.
The devil was piqu'd such saintship to behold, And long'd to tempt him, like good Job of old; But Satan now is wiser than of yore, 351
And tempts by making rich, not making poor. Rouz'd by the Prince of Air, the whirlwinds sweep
The surge, and plunge his father in the deep; Then full against his Cornish lands they roar, 355 And two rich shipwrecks bless the lucky shore.
Sir Balaam now, he lives like other folks,
He takes his chirping pint, and cracks his jokes. Live like yourself,' was soon my lady's word ; And lo! two puddings smoak'd upon the board.
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