290

Enough, that Virtue fill'd the space between;
Prov'd, by the ends of being, to have been.
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 own,
Eternal buckle takes in Parian stone.
296

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

hung,

The floors of plaster, and the walls of dung,
On once a flock-bed, but repair'd with straw,
With tape-tied curtains, never meant to draw,
The George and Garter dangling from that bed
Where tawdry yellow strove with dirty red,
Great Villers lies-alas! how chang'd from him,
That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim!

NOTES.

300

306

Ver. 296. Eternal buckle takes in Parian stone.] The Poet ridicules the wretched taste of carving large periwigs on bustos, of which there are several vile examples in the tombs at Westminster and elsewhere.

Ver. 305. Great Villers lies-] This Lord, yet more famous for his vices than his misfortunes, having been possessed of about 50,000l. a year, and passed through many of the highest posts in the kingdom, died in the year 1687, in a remote inn in Yorkshire, reduced to the utmost misery. P.

"When this extraordinary man, with the figure and genius of Alcibiades, could equally charm the presbyterian Fairfax, and the dissolute Charles; when he alike ridiculed that witty king, and his solemn chancellor; when he plotted the ruin of his country with a cabal of bad ministers: or equally unprincipled supported its cause with bad patriots; one laments that such parts

Gallant and gay, in Cliveden's proud alcove,
The bow'r of wanton Shrewsbury and love;

NOTES.

should have been devoid of every virtue. But when Alcibiades turns chemist; when he is a real bubble, and a visionary miser; when ambition is but a frolic; when the worst designs are for the foolishest ends; contempt extinguishes all reflections on his character. The portrait of this duke has been drawn by four masterly hands: Burnet has hewn it with a rough chisel: Count Hamilton touched it with that slight delicacy that finishes while it seems to sketch: Dryden catched the living likeness: Pope completed the historical resemblance. Yet the abilities of this Lord appear in no instance more amazing, than that being exposed by two of the greatest Poets, he has exposed one of them ten times more severely. Zimry is an admirable portrait; but Bayes an original creation. Dryden satirized Buckingham; but Villers made Dryden satirize himself."-Catalogue of Noble Authors, vol. ii. p. 77. Ver. 307. Cliveden] A delightful palace, on the banks of the Thames, built by the D. of Buckingham. P.

Ver. 308. Shrewsbury] The Countess of Shrewsbury, a woman abandoned to gallantries. The Earl her husband was killed by the Duke of Buckingham in a duel; and it has been said, that during the combat she held the Duke's horses in the habit of a page. P.

Ver. 308. The bow'r] This very infamous Countess of Shrewsbury was eldest daughter of Robert Brudenel Earl of Cardigan. Her husband was killed March 16, 1667. She afterward married George Rodney Bridges, Esq. second son of Sir Thomas Bridges of Keynsham in Somersetshire, Knt. and died April 20, 1702. The noble house of Cliveden, so delightfully and superbly situated on the banks of the Thames, which had been the residence of Frederick Prince of Wales, who lived in it for many years with a proper dignity and magnificence, attended by many of the first geniuses of the age, was unfortunatuly burnt to the ground in May 1725, and nothing of its elegant furniture preserved from the flames but the fine tapestry that represented the Duke of Marlborough's victories. The beautiful Mask of Alfred was written and acted at Cliveden in 1744. In the duel mentioned above, the Duke of Buckingham had for his two seconds, captain Holmes and Mr. Jenkins. The Earl of Shrewsbury's seconds were, Sir John Talbot of Laycock, and Mr. Bernard Howard. The Duke of Buckingham mortally wounded the Earl.

Or just as gay, at Council, in a ring
Of mimic Statesmen, and their merry King.
No Wit to flatter, left of all his store!

310

320

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?
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 gray 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?
What but a want, which you perhaps think mad,
Yet numbers feel, the want of what he had!
Cutler and Brutus, dying, both exclaim,

4

325

330

"Virtue! and Wealth! what are ye but a name !"

NOTES.

Ver. 333. Cutler and Brutus, dying, both exclaim,

"Virtue! and Wealth! what are ye but a name!"]

There is a greater beauty in this comparison than the common reader is aware of. Brutus was, in morals at least, a Stoic, like his uncle. And how much addicted to that sect in general, appears from his professing himself of the old Academy, and being a

Say, for such worth are other worlds prepard? Or are they both, in this their own reward?

336

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 skies
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;

340

His word would pass for more than he was worth. One solid dish his week-day meal affords,

And adding pudding solemniz'd the Lord's:

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 337. In the former Editions,

That knotty point, my Lord, shall I discuss,
Or tell a tale-A Tale.-It follows thus.

NOTES.

345

most passionate admirer of Antiochus Ascalonites, an essential Stoic, if ever there was any. Now Stoical virtue was, as our author truly tells us, not exercise, but apathy, Contracted all, retiring to the breast. In a word, like Sir J. Cutler's purse, nothing for use, but kept close shut, and centred all within himself.-Now virtue and wealth, thus circumstanced, are, indeed, no other than mere W.--A most tortured meaning!

names.

Ver. 339. Where London's column,] The Monument built in memory of the fire of London, with an inscription importing that city to have been burnt by the Papists. P.

Ver. 340. Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies ;] It were to be wished, the City monument had been compared to something of more dignity: as, to the Court-champion, for instance, since, like him, it only spoke the sense of the Government. Scribl.

Ver. 341. There dwelt a Citizen] This tale of Sir Balaam, his progress and change of manners, from being a plodding, sober, plain, and punctual citizen, to his becoming a debauched and dissolute courtier and senator, abounds in much knowledge of life, and many strokes of true humour, and will bear to be compared to the exquisite history of Eugenio and Corusodes in one of Swift's Intelligencers,

Constant at Church, and 'Change; his gains were

sure,

His givings rare, save farthings to the poor.

350

The Dev'l 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, And tempts by making rich, not making poor. Rous'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 smok'd upon the board. 360 Asleep and naked as an Indian lay,

An honest factor stole a Gem away:

He pledg'd it to the Knight, the Knight had wit,
So kept the Di'mond, and the rogue was bit.

NOTES.

364

Ver. 351. But Satan] Sherlock is of opinion, that Moses would not mention Satan as an agent, in his History of the Temptation, lest it should communicate or countenance the notion of two independent principles of good and evil. And yet afterward, he asserts, that the Book of Job, in which Satan is openly named and introduced, is of an age prior to the writings of Moses. Disc. on Prophecy.

Ver. 355. Cornish] The Author has placed the scene of these shipwrecks in Cornwall, not only from their frequency on that coast, but from the inhumanity of the inhabitants to those to whom that misfortune arrives: When a ship happens to be stranded there, they have been known to bore holes in it, to prevent its getting off: to plunder, and sometimes even to massacre, the people: nor has the Parliament of England been yet able wholly to suppress these barbarities. P.