5. The man, who, in all wishes he does make, Nor tremble, though two comets should appear: Whether he fortunate shall be; Let Mars and Saturn in the heavens conjoin, 6. If of your pleasures and desires no end be found, What would content you? who can tell? Ye strive for more, as if ye lik'd it not. Spare nought that may your wanton fancy please; Much will be missing still, and much will be amiss. VII. OF AVARICE. THERE are two sorts of avarice: the one is but of a bastard kind, and that is, the rapacious appetite of gain; not for its own sake, but for the pleasure of refunding it immediately through all the channels of pride and luxury: the other is the true kind, and properly so called; which is a restless and unsatiable desire of riches, not for any farther end or use, but only to hoard, and preserve, and perpetually increase them. The covetous man, of the first kind, is like a greedy ostrich, which devours any metal; but it is with an intent to feed upon it, and in effect it makes a shift to digest and excern it. The second is like the foolish chough, which loves to steal money only to hide it. The first does much harm to mankind; and a little good too, to some few: the second does good to none; no, not to himself. The first can make no excuse to God, or angels, or rational men, for his actions: the second can give no reason or colour, not to the devil himself, for what he does; he is a slave to Mammon, without wages. The first makes a shift to be beloved; ay, and envied, too, by some people: the second is the universal object of hatred and contempt. There is no vice has been so pelted with good sentences, and especially by the poets, who have pursued it with stories and fables, and allegories, and allusions; and moved, as we say, every stone to fling at it: among all which, I do not remember a more fine and gentleman-like correction than that which was given it by one line of Ovid: "Desunt luxuriæ multa, avaritiæ omnia." Much is wanting to luxury, all to avarice. To which saying, I have a mind to add one member, and tender it thus ; Poverty wants some, luxury many, avarice all things. "that Somebody says of a virtuous and wise man, having nothing, he has all:" this is just his antipode, who, having all things, yet has nothing. He is a guardian eunuch to his beloved gold: "audivi eos amatores esse maximos, sed nil potesse." the fondest lovers, but impotent to enjoy. They are And, oh, what man's condition can be worse The beggars but a common fate deplore, The rich poor man's emphatically poor. I wonder how it comes to pass, that there has never against him, do I been any law made against him say? I mean, for him as there are public provisions made for all other mad-men: it is very reasonable that the king should appoint some persons (and I think the courtiers would not be against this proposition) to manage his estate during his life (for his heirs commonly need not that care); and out of it to make it their business to see, that he should not want alimony befitting his condition, which he could never get out of his own cruel fingers. We relieve idle vagrants, and counterfeit beggars; but have no care at all of these really poor men, who are (methinks) to be respectfully treated, in regard of their quality. I might be endless against them, but I am almost choaked with the super-abundance of the matter; too much plenty impoverishes me, as it does them. I will conclude this odious subject with part of Horace's first satire, which take in his own familiar style: I admire, Mæcenas, how it comes to pass, The peasant, when his labours ill succeed, But, hold, ye, whom no fortune e'er endears, Change all your stations strait: why do they stay? By Jove I'd cudgel this rebellious race: And in that state be chearful and rejoice, But 'tis with a design only to gain What may their age with plenteous ease maintain. The prudent pismire does this lesson teach, And industry to lazy mankind preach. The little drudge does trot about and sweat, |