"Add justice then, the eager hand to hold,
"To curb the lust of power and thirst of gold;
"Join temp'rance next, that cheerful health insures,
"And fortitude unmoved, that conquers or endures."
He speaks, and lo !-the very man you see:
Prudent and temperate, just and patient he;
By prudence taught his worldly wealth to keep,
No folly wastes, no avarice swells the heap:
He no man's debtor, no man's patron lives;
Save sound advice, he neither asks nor gives;
By no vain thoughts or erring fancy sway'd,
His words are weighty, or at least are weigh'd;
Temp'rate in every place-abroad, at home,
Thence will applause, and hence will profit come;
And health from either he in time prepares
For sickness, age, and their attendant cares,
But not for fancy's ills;-he never grieves
For love that wounds or friendship that deceives;
His patient soul endures what Heav'n ordains,
But neither feels nor fears ideal pains.

"Is aught then wanted in a man so wise?" Alas!-I think he wants infirmities;

He wants the ties that knit us to our kind—
The cheerful, tender, soft, complacent mind,
That would the feelings, which he dreads, excite,
And make the virtues he approves delight;
What dying martyrs, saints, and patriots feel-
The strength of action and the warmth of zeal.
Again attend!—and see a man whose cares
Are nicely placed on either world's affairs.-
Merchant and saint, 'tis doubtful if he knows
To which account he most regard bestows;
Of both he keeps his ledger :-there he reads
Of gainful ventures and of godly deeds;
There all he gets or loses find a place-
A lucky bargain and a lack of grace.

The joys above this prudent man invite
To pay his tax-devotion !-day and night;
The pains of hell his timid bosom awe,
And force obedience to the church's law:

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Hence that continual thought, that solemn air,
Those sad good works, and that laborious prayer.
All these (when conscience, waken'd and afraid
To think how avarice calls and is obey'd)
He in his journal finds, and for his grief
Obtains the transient opium of relief.

"Sink not, my soul !-my spirit, rise and look
"O'er the fair entries of this precious book:
"Here are the sins, our debts ;-this fairer side
"Has what to carnal wish our strength denied ;
"Has those religious duties every day
"Paid-which so few upon the sabbath pay;
"Here too are conquests over frail desires,
"Attendance due on all the church requires ;
"Then alms I give for I believe the word
"Of holy writ, and lend unto the Lord-
"And, if not all th' importunate demand,
"The fear of want restrains my ready hand;
"-Behold what sums I to the poor resign,

"Sums placed in Heaven's own book, as well as mine!
"Rest, then, my spirit !-fastings, prayers, and alms,
"Will soon suppress these idly-raised alarms,

"And, weigh'd against our frailties, set in view
"A noble balance in our favour due.
"Add that I yearly here affix my name,
"Pledge for large payment-not from love of fame,
"But to make peace within ;-that peace to make,
"What sums I lavish! and what gains forsake!
"Cheer up, my heart!-let's cast off every doubt,
"Pray without dread, and place our money out."
Such the religion of a mind that steers
Its way to bliss, between its hopes and fears;
Whose passions in due bounds each other keep,
And, thus subdued, they murmur till they sleep;
Whose virtues all their certain limits know,
Like well-dried herbs that neither fade nor grow;
Who for success and safety ever tries,
And with both worlds alternately complies.

Such are the guardians of this bless'd estate;
Whate'er without, they're praised within the gate;

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That they are men, and have their faults, is true,
But here their worth alone appears in view:
The Muse indeed, who reads the very breast,
Has something of the secrets there express'd,
But yet in charity;—and, when she sees
Such means for joy or comfort, health or ease,
And knows how much united minds effect,
She almost dreads their failings to detect;

But truth commands:-in man's erroneous kind,
Virtues and frailties mingle in the mind;
Happy, when fears to public spirit move,
And even vices to the work of love!

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THE BOROUGH.

LETTER XVIII.

THE POOR AND THEIR DWELLINGS.

Bene paupertas

Humili tecto contenta latet.

Seneca [Octavia, A&t v. vv. 895-6].

Omnes quibu' res sunt minu' secundæ, magi' sunt, nescio quo modo, Suspiciosi; ad contumeliam omnia accipiunt magis;

Propter suam impotentiam se semper credunt negligi.

Terent. in Adelph. A&t 4. Sc. 3 [vv. 12-4].

Show not to the poor thy pride,
Let their home a cottage be;
Nor the feeble body hide

In a palace fit for thee;
Let him not about him see
Lofty ceilings, ample halls,

Or a gate his boundary be, Where nor friend or kinsman calls.

Let him not one walk behold,
That only one which he must tread,
Nor a chamber large and cold,

Better far his humble shed,
Where the aged and sick are led ;
Humble sheds of neighbours by,
And the old and tatter'd bed,

Where he sleeps and hopes to die.

To quit of torpid sluggishness the [lair],
And from the pow'rful arms of sloth [get] free,
"Tis rising from the dead-Alas! it cannot be.

Thomson's Castle of Indolence [Canto II. 11. 59-61].

The Method of treating the Borough Paupers-Many maintained at their own Dwellings-Some Characters of the Poor-The School-mistress, when aged-The Idiot-The poor Sailor-The declined Tradesman and his Companion-This contrasted with the Maintenance of the Poor in a common Mansion erected by the Hundred-The Objections to this Method: not Want, nor Cruelty, but the necessary Evils of this Mode-What they are-Instances of the Evil-A Return to the Borough Poor-The Dwellings of these-The Lanes and By-waysNo Attention here paid to Convenience-The Pools in the Path-ways -Amusements of Sea-port Children-The Town-Flora-Herbs on Walls and vacant Spaces-A female Inhabitant of an Alley-A large Building let to several poor Inhabitants-Their Manners and Habits.

THE BOROUGH.

LETTER XVIII.

THE POOR AND THEIR DWELLINGS.

YES

ES! we've our Borough-vices, and I know
How far they spread, how rapidly they grow;

Yet think not virtue quits the busy place,

Nor charity, the virtues' crown and grace.

"Our poor how feed we?"-To the most we give
A weekly dole, and at their homes they live;
;-
Others together dwell-but when they come
To the low roof, they see a kind of home,
A social people whom they've ever known,

With their own thoughts and manners like their own.
At her old house, her dress, her air the same,
I see mine ancient letter-loving dame :
"Learning, my child," said she, "shall fame command;
"Learning is better worth than house or land-
"For houses perish, lands are gone and spent ;
"In learning then excel, for that's most excellent."
“And what her learning?"-'Tis with awe to look
In every verse throughout one sacred book;
From this her joy, her hope, her peace is sought:
This she has learn'd, and she is nobly taught.

If aught of mine have gain'd the public ear;
If RUTLAND deigns these humble Tales to hear;
If critics pardon what my friends approved,
Can I mine ancient widow pass unmoved?
Shall I not think what pains the matron took,
When first I trembled o'er the gilded book?