Note 24 — THE SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE.

“‘God cannot love,’ says Blunt, with tearless eyes, ‘The wretch he starves, and piously denies.’ … Much-injur’d Blunt! why bears he Britain’s hate? A wizard told him in these words our fate: ‘At length corruption, like a gen’ral flood, So long by watchful ministers withstood, Shall deluge all; and av’rice, creeping on, Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun; Statesman and patriot ply alike the stocks, Peeress and butler share alike the box, And judges job, and bishops bite the Town, And mighty dukes pack cards for half-a-crown: See Britain sunk in Lucre’s forbid charms, And France reveng’d of Ann’s and Edward’s arms!’ ’Twas no court-badge, great Scriv’ner! fir’d thy brain, Nor lordly luxury, nor city gain: No, ’twas thy righteous end, asham’d to see Senates degen’rate, patriots disagree, And nobly wishing party-rage to cease, To buy both sides, and give thy country peace.” Pope’s Epistle to Allen Lord Bathurst. Return