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Secrets of state no more I wish to know

       Than secret movements of a puppet-show: 260

       Let but the puppets move, I've my desire,

       Unseen the hand which guides the master-wire.

       What is't to us if taxes rise or fall?

       Thanks to our fortune, we pay none at all.

       Let muckworms, who in dirty acres deal,

       Lament those hardships which we cannot feel.

       His Grace, who smarts, may bellow if he please,

       But must I bellow too, who sit at ease?

       By custom safe, the poet's numbers flow

       Free as the light and air some years ago. 270

       No statesman e'er will find it worth his pains

       To tax our labours, and excise our brains.

       Burthens like these, vile earthly buildings bear;

       No tribute's laid on castles in the air.

       Let, then, the flames of war destructive reign,

       And England's terrors awe imperious Spain;

       Let every venal clan[95] and neutral tribe

       Learn to receive conditions, not prescribe;

       Let each new year call loud for new supplies,

       And tax on tax with double burthen rise; 280

       Exempt we sit, by no rude cares oppress'd,

       And, having little, are with little bless'd.

       All real ills in dark oblivion lie,

       And joys, by fancy form'd, their place supply;

       Night's laughing hours unheeded slip away,

       Nor one dull thought foretells approach of day.

       Thus have we lived, and whilst the Fates afford

       Plain plenty to supply the frugal board;

       Whilst Mirth with Decency, his lovely bride,

       And wine's gay god, with Temperance by his side, 290

       Their welcome visit pay; whilst Health attends

       The narrow circle of our chosen friends;

       Whilst frank Good-humour consecrates the treat,

       And woman makes society complete,

       Thus will we live, though in our teeth are hurl'd

       Those hackney strumpets, Prudence and the World.

       Prudence, of old a sacred term, implied

       Virtue, with godlike wisdom for her guide;

       But now in general use is known to mean

       The stalking-horse of vice, and folly's screen. 300

       The sense perverted, we retain the name;

       Hypocrisy and Prudence are the same.

       A tutor once, more read in men than books,

       A kind of crafty knowledge in his looks,

       Demurely sly, with high preferment bless'd,

       His favourite pupil in these words address'd:—

       Wouldst thou, my son, be wise and virtuous deem'd;

       By all mankind a prodigy esteem'd?

       Be this thy rule; be what men prudent call;

       Prudence, almighty Prudence, gives thee all. 310

       Keep up appearances; there lies the test;

       The world will give thee credit for the rest.

       Outward be fair, however foul within;

       Sin if thou wilt, but then in secret sin.

       This maxim's into common favour grown,

       Vice is no longer vice, unless 'tis known.

       Virtue, indeed, may barefaced take the field;

       But vice is virtue when 'tis well conceal'd.

       Should raging passion drive thee to a whore,

       Let Prudence lead thee to a postern door; 320

       Stay out all night, but take especial care

       That Prudence bring thee back to early prayer.

       As one with watching and with study faint,

       Reel in a drunkard, and reel out a saint.

       With joy the youth this useful lesson heard,

       And in his memory stored each precious word;

       Successfully pursued the plan, and now,

       Room for my Lord—Virtue, stand by and bow.

       And is this all—is this the worldling's art,

       To mask, but not amend a vicious heart 330

       Shall lukewarm caution, and demeanour grave,

       For wise and good stamp every supple knave

       Shall wretches, whom no real virtue warms,

       Gild fair their names and states with empty forms;

       While Virtue seeks in vain the wish'd-for prize,

       Because, disdaining ill, she hates disguise;

       Because she frankly pours fourth all her store,

       Seems what she is, and scorns to pass for more

       Well—be it so—let vile dissemblers hold

       Unenvied power, and boast their dear-bought gold; 340

       Me neither power shall tempt, nor thirst of pelf,

       To flatter others, or deny myself;

       Might the whole world be placed within my span,

       I would not be that thing, that prudent man.

       What! cries Sir Pliant, would you then oppose

       Yourself, alone, against a host of foes?

       Let not conceit, and peevish lust to rail,

       Above all sense of interest prevail.

       Throw off, for shame! this petulance of wit;

       Be wise, be modest, and for once submit: 350

       Too hard the task 'gainst multitudes to fight;

       You must be wrong; the World is in the right.

       What is this World?—A term which men have got

       To signify, not one in ten knows what;

       A term, which with no more precision passes

       To point out herds of men than herds of asses;

       In common use no more it means, we find,

       Than many fools in same opinions join'd.

       Can numbers, then, change Nature's stated laws?

       Can numbers make the worse the better cause? 360

       Vice must be vice, virtue be virtue still,

       Though thousands rail at good, and practise ill.

       Wouldst thou defend the Gaul's destructive rage,

       Because vast nations on his part engage?

       Though, to support the rebel Caesar's cause,

       Tumultuous legions arm against the laws;

       Though scandal would our patriot's name impeach,

       And rails at virtues which she cannot reach,

       What honest man but would with joy submit

       To bleed with Cato, and retire with Pitt?[96] 370

       Steadfast and true to virtue's sacred laws,

       Unmoved by vulgar censure, or applause,

      

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