To one he freely gives in barter
A peerage or a star and garter.
To one he pays polite attention,
And begs him just to take a pension.
Some are so fixed with love of fame
He bribes them with an empty name;
For fame they toil, they preach, they write,
Give alms, build hospitals, or fight;
For human praise renounce salvation,
And sell their souls for reputation.
See at yon needy tradesman's shop
The universal tempter stop.
"Would thou," he cries, "increase thy treasure?
Use lighter weights and scantier measure;
Thus thou shalt thrive." The trader's willing,
And sells his soul to get a shilling.
The farmer who scorns to cheat is tempted at last; the jolly youth—
sells his soul
In barter for a flowing bowl.
And the maiden—
A slave to vanity's control,
She for a riband sells her soul.
In one year two millions of these tracts were sold, a really extraordinary amount, considering how few parishes were even tolerably worked in those days. In many instances, they banished mischievous publications from small shops, and they were eagerly hailed by most of those who wished to promote innocent reading among the poor, though Dr. Wordsworth, the Master of Trinity, pronounced them more "novelish and
