Classic Poem

To Sir JOHN CUTIER .

No matter, let the busie Rout exclaim,
And brand with scurril Jests thy honour'd Name;
Slaves that have Spleens alone from being poor,
And curse thy Conduct, while they wish thy Store.
If thou art wife, add not to thy Expence
One Mite to lessen their dull Virulence.
For when the scoundrel Crew have done their worst,
The Fox thrives ever best for being curst.
They hate thee, Cutler , and, in spight, would fain
Thy Constitution and thy Pocket drain.
Strong Rivers, well we know, will lose their Force
If Chance, or Art, divert their wonted Course;
Down the new Sluice inordinate they flow,
And leave their Channels dry, or leave them low.
You, as you live, at others Cost can see
The Havock of intemperate Luxury;
What Hazards on licentious Riot wait,
What Crouds reduc'd in Body and Estate,
While to the Sense they give up Reason's Sway,
And ev'ry craving Appetite obey:
While they in wild Profusion misemploy
The Gifts of Heav'n, and their own Health destroy.

How falsly we that prudent Thrift despise,
By which Man gains what he himself denies!
Since he receives from voluntary Want
More than his craving Appetites could grant:
The frugal Wise by Self-denial find
Desires restrain'd, and a contented Mind.
Then that blest Thrift, which aids us to controul
The working Passions of the restless Soul,
And keeps us guiltless, should be deem'd our Praise,
Not load us with Reproach, and foul Disgrace.

The Man that does possess a glitt'ring Store,
And uses not the Treasure in his Pow'r,
Is not a Slave to Luxury, or Pride,
But must contemn the Wealth he strives to hide:
And to contemn what vulgar Spirits prize,
Is, sure, to be most temperate and wife.

Nor is't a Virtue in itself alone
Not to be prodigal of what's our own;
But still that Virtue more exalted grows
In the fair Consequence that from it flows.
Fairly the Merits then of Thrist to scan,
Must be to boult the Matter to the Bran,
And from th' Effects of Parsimony see,
If it a Frailty, or a Virtue be,
If it in ought our Characters maintain,
Reform our Follies, or our Faults restrain;
If it to others make us useful grow,
Or our own Happiness we to it owe.

First then, since our own Good is first in view,
Trace we what Blessings to ourselves accrue.
'Tis sure, by voluntary Want, we may
The Calls of wanton Luxury allay,
Till Want, by Custom, makes us live on less,
And is itself reliev'd by its Excess:
Since Want does oft so long the Stomach stay,
Ev'n till our Appetites it takes away.
Such Want does then our Innocence maintain,
Curbing those Passions which might prove our Bane.
Besides that Temp'rance still prevents Decays,
Insures our Health, and gives a Length of Days.
While our gross Bodies, pamper'd up and full,
Grow heavy, and the active Spirits dull;
Our midnight Riots all our Vigour drain,
By Sickness wasted, and subdued by Pain.
Again; from Thrift proceeds our keenest Wit,
Since sharp Necessity's the Cause of it;
Hence too our Reason and Religion rise,
We must be thrifty, if we will be wife;
And if we will the sacred Laws obey,
We must not give wild Appetite the Sway.
Again, from this sole Virtue we derive
More than the Philosophick Schools can give;
For there Content in vain by Rules is taught;
Rules that by Thrift are into Practice brought,
For wisely sparing what we might have spent,
Proves to ourselves we can prescribe Content:
While without gen'rous, self-denying Want,
Man's vain Desires were more extravagant,
Since to himself Content he could not grant.
Without which Wealth, Pow'r, Honour, all are vain,
And prove our Curse as they promote our Pain.

Now turn the Tables, and we soon shall see
What are the Gains of Prodigality:
By this the Rich Man squanders out his Store,
And middling Stocks are levell'd with the Poor.
Since vain Profusion lays all Riches waste,
Which Thrift first raises, and preserves at last.
When by Imprudence we are once undone,
What Friends remain t'adore our setting Sun?
The fawning Crew that, in his happier State,
Shar'd all his Fortunes, shun the Bankrupt's Fate:
And those, who envied once his Store, deride
The Wealth now shrunk, and damn the Unthrift's Pride.

Unlike this Vice, wise Thrist still sets us free
From Danger of Contempt and Beggary;
Thrift in the Rich Extravagance restrains,
And in Content the Poor with less maintains;
Honour's best Friend, tho' deem'd its Enemy,
And the Support of Generosity:
Since did not Thrift for gen'rous Acts provide,
Munificence of course long since had dy'd:
The Poor, and Needy still are best maintain'd,
As our Extravagance is most restrain'd.
For whilst the Lavish spend what Others gave,
Thrift makes us from Ourselves for Others save.
In this our Virtue flies the noblest Pitch,
Keeping us poor to make our poor Friends rich.

Live on then, Cutler , in Despight of Fame,
That gives each Quality a Bastard Name,
And calls that Thrift, which does our Reason grace,
Poorness of Soul, and Avarice, and base.
Let no such Terms thy settled Rules destroy,
But all the Benefits of Thrift enjoy.
Fools only can thy frugal Life despise,
Thy Heirs will call thy Conduct just, and wise.