_F._ A common cause: it seems his lawful gains Came slowly forth, and came with care and pains. These he, indeed, was willing to bestow; But still his progress to his point was slow, And might be quicken’d, “could he cheat the eyes } Of all those rascal officers and spies, } The Customs’ greedy tribe, the wolves of the Excise.” } Tea, coffee, spirits, laces, silks, and spice, 110 And sundry drugs that bear a noble price, Are bought for little, but, ere sold, the things Are deeply charged for duty of the king’s. Now, if the servants of this king would keep At a kind distance, or would wink or sleep, Just till the goods in safety were disposed, Why then his labours would be quickly closed. True! some have thriven—but they the laws defied, And shunn’d the powers they should have satisfied. Their way he tried, and, finding some success, 120 His heart grew stouter, and his caution less; Then—for why doubt, when placed in Fortune’s way?— There was a bank, and that was sure to pay. Yes, every partner in that thriving bank He judged a man of a superior rank. Were _he_ but one in a concern so grand— Why, he might build a house, and buy him land; Then, too, the Widow, whom he loved so well, Would not refuse with such a man to dwell; And, to complete his views, he might be made 130 A Borough-Justice, when he ceased to trade; For he had known—well pleased to know—a mayor Who once had dealt in cheese and vinegar. Who hastens to be rich, resembles him Who is resolved that he will quickly swim, And trusts his full-blown bladders! He, indeed, With these supported, moves along with speed; He laughs at those whom untried depths alarm, By caution led, and moved by strength of arm; Till in mid-way, the way his folly chose, 140 His full-blown bladder bursts, and down he goes! Or, if preserved, ’tis by their friendly aid Whom he despised as cautious and afraid. Who could resist? Not Barnaby. Success Awhile his pride exalted—to depress. Three years he pass’d in feverish hopes and fears, When fled the profits of the former years; Shook by the Law’s strong arm, all he had gain’d He dropp’d—and hopeless, pennyless remain’d. The cruel Widow, whom he yet pursued, 150 Was kind but cautious, then was stern and rude. “Should wealth, now hers, from that dear man which came, Be thrown away to prop a smuggler’s fame?” She spake, insulting; and, with many a sigh, The fallen Trader passed her mansion by. Fear, shame, and sorrow, for a time endured, Th’ adventurous man was ruin’d, but was cured— His weakness pitied, and his once-good name The means of his returning peace became. He was assisted, to his shop withdrew, 160 Half let, half rented, and began anew To smile on custom, that in part return’d, With the small gains that he no longer spurn’d. Warn’d by the past, he rises with the day,