This Fulham tried: who would to him advance A pound or crown, he gave in turn a chance For weighty prize--and should they nothing share, They had their crown or pound in Fulham’s ware; Thus the old stores within the shop were sold 110 For that which none refuses, new or old. Was this unjust? Yet Conscience could not rest But made a mighty struggle in the breast; And gave th’ aspiring man an early proof, That should they war he would have work enough: “Suppose,” said she, “your vended numbers rise The same with those which gain each real prize, (Such your proposal,) can you ruin shun?” “A hundred thousand,” he replied, “to one.”-- “Still it may happen.”--“I the sum must pay.”-- 120 “You know you cannot.”--“I can run away.”-- “That is dishonest.”--“Nay, but you must wink At a chance-hit; it cannot be, I think. Upon my conduct as a whole decide, Such trifling errors let my virtues hide; Fail I at meeting? am I sleepy there? My purse refuse I with the priest to share? Do I deny the poor a helping hand? Or stop the wicked women in the Strand? Or drink at club beyond a certain pitch? 130 Which are your charges? Conscience, tell me which.” “’Tis well,” said she, “but--” “Nay, I pray, have done: Trust me, I will not into danger run.” The lottery drawn, not one demand was made; Fulham gain’d profit and increase of trade. “See now,” said he--for Conscience yet arose-- “How foolish ’tis such measures to oppose: Have I not blameless thus my state advanced?”-- “Still,” mutter’d Conscience, “still it might have chanced.”-- “Might!” said our hero, “who is so exact 140 As to inquire what might have been a fact?” Now Fulham’s shop contain’d a curious view Of costly trifles, elegant and new: The papers told where kind mammas might buy The gayest toys to charm an infant’s eye; Where generous beaux might gentle damsels please, And travellers call who cross the land or seas, And find the curious art, the neat device, Of precious value and of trifling price. Here Conscience rested: she was pleased to find 150 No less an active than an honest mind; But, when he named his price, and when he swore, His Conscience check’d him, that he ask’d no more-- When half he sought had been a large increase On fair demand--she could not rest in peace (Beside th’ affront to call th’ adviser in, Who would prevent, to justify the sin.) She therefore told him, that “he vainly tried To soothe her anger, conscious that he lied; If thus he grasp’d at such usurious gains, 160 He must deserve, and should expect, her pains.” The charge was strong; he would in part confess Offence there was--but, who offended less? “What! is a mere assertion call’d a lie?