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What shocks one part will edify the rest;
Nor with one system can they all be blest.
The very best will variously incline,
And what rewards your virtue punish mine.
Whatever is is right.-- This world, 'tis true, 145
Was made for Cæsar-but for Titus too:
And which more bless’d? who chain’d his country, say,
Or he whose virtue sigh'd to lose a day?

“ But sometimes virtue Itarves while vice is fed." What then? is the reward of virtue bread ?

That vice may merit; 'tis the price of toil;
The knave deserves it when he tills the soil,
The knaves deserves it when he tempts the main,
Where Folly fights for kings or dives for gain.
The good man may be weak, be indolent;
Nor is his claim to plenty but content.
But grant him riches, your demand is o’er ? [pow'r?"
“ No-hall the good want health, the good want
Add health and pow'r, and ev'ry earthly thing;
6. Why bounded pow'r? why private? why no king?"
Nay, why external for internal giv'n?

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Why is not man a god, and earth a heav'n?
Who ask and reason thus will scarce conceive
God gives enough while he has more to give:
Immense the pow'r, immense were the demand : "165
Say at what part of Nature will they stand ?

What nothing earthly gives or can destroy,
The foul's calm sunshine and the heart-felt joy,
Is virtue's prize. A better would you

fix?
Then give Humility a coach and fix,
Justice a conq’ror's sword, or Truth a gown,
Or Public Spirit its great cure, a crown.
Weak, foolish Man! will Heav'n reward us there
With the same trash mad mortals with for here?
The Boy and Man an individual makes,

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Yet figh'st thou now for apples and for cakes?
Go, like the Indian, in another life
Expect thy dog, thy bottle, and thy wife,
As well as dream such trifles are assign’d,
As toys and empires, for a godlike mind : 180

Rewards

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Rewards that either would to virtue bring
No joy, or be destructive of the thing.
How oft' by these at fixty are undone
The virtues of a faint at twenty-one!
To whom can riches give repute or trust,
Content or pleasure, but the good and just!
Judges and senates have been bought for gold;
Esteem and love were never to be fold.
Oh! fool, to think God hates the worthy mind,
The lover and the love of humankind,
Whole life is healthful, and whose conscience clear,
Because he wants a thousand pounds a-year!

Honour and shame from no condition rise ;
As well your part, there all the honour lies.
Fortune in Men has fome small diff'rence made; 195
One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade ;
The cobler apron'd, and the parson gown’d,
The friar hooded, and the monarch crown'd.
“ What differ more (you cry’d) than crown and cowl ?"
I'll tell you, friend, , - a wise man and a fool.
You'll find if once the monarch acts the monk,
Or, cobler-like, the parfon will be drunk,
Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow;
The rest is all but leather or prunella.

Stuck o'er with titles, and hung round with strings, That thou mayít be by kings, or whores of kings, 206 Boast the pure blood of an illustrious race, In quiet flow from Lucrece to Lucrece: But by your father's worth if your's you rate; Count me those only who were good and great. Go! if your ancient but ignoble blood Has crept thro' scoundrels ever since the flood, Go! and pretend your family is young, Nor own your fathers have been fools to long. What can ennoble sots, or slaves, or cowards? Alas! not all the blood of all the Howards.

Look 'next on Greatness; fay where greatness lies? " Where, but among the heroes and the wile ?" Heroes are much the lane, the point's agreed, From Macedonia's madman to the Swede; VOL. I.

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The whole strange purpose of their lives to find
Or make an enemy of all mankind !
Not one looks backward, onward ftill he goes,
Yet ne'er looks forward further than his note.
No lets alike the politic and wise ;

225 All fy flow things with circumspective eyes : Men in their loole unguarded hours they take; Not that themselves are wise, but others weak. But grant that those can conquer, these can cheat, 'Tis phrale absurd to call a villain great :

230 Who wickedly is wide, or madly brave, Is but the more a fool, the more a knave. Who noble ends by noble means obtains, Or failing, smiles in exile or in chains, Like good Aurelius let him reign, or bleed 235 Like Socrates ; that man is great indeed.

What's Fame? a fancy'd life in others' breath; . A thing beyond us e’en before our death : Just what you hear you have ; and what's unknown, The same (my Lord) if Tully's or your own. 240 All that we feel of it begins and ends In the small circle of our foes or friends : To all beside as much an empty shade An Eugene living as a Cæsar dead : Alike, or when, or where they shone or shine, 245 Or on the Rubicon or on the Rhine. A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod; An honest Man's the noblest work of God. Fame but from death a villain's name can save, As Justice tears his body from the grave; 250 When what t'oblivion better were resign'd Is hung on high to poison half mankind. All fame is foreign but of true desert; Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart : One self-approving hour whole years outweighs 255 Of stupid ftarers and of loud huzzas; And more true joy Marcellus exiļd feels Than Caesar with a senate at his heels.

In parts superior what advantage lies? Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise? 260

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Tis but to know how little can be known,
To see all others' faults, and feel our own;
Condemn'd in bus’ness or in arts to drudge,
Without a second, or without a judge,
Truths would you teach, or save'a linking land ? 265
All fear, none aid you, and few understand.
Painful pre-eminence! yourself to view
Above life's weakness, and its comforts too.

Bring then these blessings to a strict account;
Make fair deductions; fee to what they 'mount; 270
How much of other each is sure to cost;
How each for other oft' is wholly lost;
How inconsistent greater goods with these;
How sometimes life is riix'd, and always case:
Think, and it still the things thy envy call,
Say, wouldlt thou be the Man to whom they fall?
To sigh for ribands if thou art fo filly,
Mark how they grace Lord Umbra or Sir Billy.
Is yellow dirt the passion of thy life?
Look but on Gripus or on Gripus' wife. 280
If parts allure thee, think how Bacon thin'd,
The wiselt, brightest, meanett, of mankind;
Or, ravish'd with the whistling of a name,
See Cronwell damn’d to everlasting fame!
If all united thy ambition call,

285 From ancient story learn to fcorn them all; There in the rich, the honour’d, fam’d, and great, See the false scale of happineis complete! In hearts of kings or arms of queens who lay, How happy! those to ruin, thele betray.

290 Mark by what wretched iteps their glory grows, From dirt and seaweed, as proud Venus rose ; In each how guilt and greatneís equal ran, And all that raise the hero funk the Man; Now Europe's laurels on their brows behold, 295 But stain’d with blood, or ill exchang’d for gold; Then see them broke with toils, or sunk in ease, Or infamous for plunder'd provinces. Oh, wealth ill fated! which no act of fame E'er taught to shine, or fanctify'd from shame! 300

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What greater bliss attends their close of life?
Some greedy minion, or imperious wife,
The trophy'd arche's story'd halls invade,
And haunt their Numbers in the pompous shade.
Alas! not dazzled with their noontide ray, 305
Compute the morn and ev'ning to the day;
The whole amount of that enormous fame,
A tale that blends their glory with their shame!

Know then this truth, (enough for man to know,) « Virtue alone is happiness below :"

310 The only point where human bliss stands still, And tastes the good without the fall to ill; Where only Merit constant pay receives, Is bless'd in what it takes and what it gives; The joy unequallid if its end it gain,

315 And if it lose attended with no pain : Without satiety, tho' e'er fo bleis’d, And but more relish'd as the more distressd : The broadest mirth unfeeling Folly-wears, Less pleasing far than Virtue's very tears : Good from each object, from each place, acquir’d, For ever exercis’d, yet never tir’d; Never elated while one man's oppress'd ; Never dejected while another's bless'd; And where no wants no wishes can remain,

325 Since but to wish more virtue is to gain.

See the fole bliss Heav'n could on all bestow! Which who but feels can taste, but thinks can know: Yet poor with fortune, and with learning blind, The bad must miss, the good untaught will find ; 330 Slave to no fect, who takes no private road, But looks thro’ Nature up to Nature's God; Pursues that chain which links th' immense design, Joins heav'n and earth, and mortal and divine; Sees that no being any bliss can know,

335 But touches some above and some below; Learns from the union of the rising whole, The first, last, purpose of the human soul; And knows where faith, law, morals, all began, All end in love of God and love of Man.

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