Long as those orbs he weigh'd fhall fhed their rays,
His truth fhall guide us, and fhall laft his praife.
Yet if fo juft the fame, the ufe fo great,'
Systems to poife, and fpheres to regulate;
To teach the fecret well-adapted force,

That fteers of countless orbs th' unvaried courfe
Far brighter honours wait the nobler part,
To balance manners, and conduct the heart.
Order without us, what imports it seen,
If all is reftlefs anarchy within ?

Fir'd by this thought great Ashley, gen'rous fage,
Plan'd in sweet leifure his e inftructive page.
Not orbs he weighs, but marks, with happier fkill,
The scope of actions and the poife of will:
In fair proportion here defcrib'd we trace
Each mental beauty, and each moral grace;
Each ufeful paffion taught, its tone defign'd,
In the nice concord of a well-tun'd mind.

Does mean felf-love contract each focial aim?
Here public transports fhall thy foul inflame.
Virtue and Deity fupremely fair,
Too oft delineated with looks fevere,
Refume their native fmiles and graces here :

e Anthony Afley Cowper, third Earl of Shaftesbury.

f Sec the Characteristics, particularly the Enquiry concerning Virtue and the Moralifts.

Sooth'd

Sooth'd into love relenting foes admire,

And warmer raptures every friend infpire.

Such are the fruits which from retirement fpring;
Thefe bleffings eafe and learned leisure bring.;
Yet of the various tasks mankind employ,
'Tis fure the hardeft, leifure to enjoy..

For one who knows to tafte this god-like blifs,
What countless fwarms of vain pretenders mifs?
Though each dull plodding thing, to ape the wife,
Ridiculously grave, for leifure fighs,

(His boasted wish from bufy fcenes to run).
Grant him that leifure, and the fool's undone.
The gods, to curse poor Demea, heard his vow,
And bufinefs now no more contracts his brow:
Nor real cares, 'tis true, perplex his breaft,
But thousand fancied ills his peace moleft;
The flighteft trifles folid forrows prove,

And the long ling'ring wheel of life scarce feems to move,
Ufelefs in bufinefs, yet unfit for eafe,

Nor skill'd to mend mankind, nor form'd to please,
Such fpurious animals of worthless race
Live but the public burthen and difgrace:
Like mean attendants on life's ftage are seen,
Drawn forth to fill, but not conduct the scene.

The mind not taught to think, no useful store

To fix reflection, dreads the vacant hour.
Turn'd on its felf its numerous wants are seen,
And all the mighty void that lies within.

Yet cannot wisdom ftamp our joys complete;
'Tis conscious virtue crowns the blest retreat.
Who feels not that, the private path muft fhun;
And fly to public view t' escape his own;
In life's gay fcenes uneafy thoughts suppress,
And lull each anxious care in dreams of peace.
'Midft foreign objects not employ'd to roam,
Thought, fadly active, ftill corrodes at home:
A serious moment breaks the false repose,
And guilt in all its naked horror shows.

He who would know retirement's joy refin'd,
The fair recefs muft feek with cheerful mind:
No Cynic's pride, no bigot's heated brain,
No fruftrate hope, nor love's fantastic pain,
With him muft enter the fequefter'd cell,
Who means with pleafing folitude to dwell;
But equal paffions let his bofom rule,

A judgment candid, and a temper cool,

..

Enlarg'd with knowledge, and in confcience clear,
Above life's empty hopes, and death's vain fear,
Such he must be who greatly lives alone;
Such Portio is, in crowded scenes unknown.
For public life with every talent born,
Portio far off retires with decent fcorn;
Though without bufinefs, never unemploy'd,
And life, as more at leisure, more enjoy'd ;
For who like him can various fcience tafte,
His mind fhall never want an endless feast.

By WILLIAM MELMOTH, Efq;

First printed in the Year MDCCXXXV.

Meo quidem judicio neuter culpandus, alter dum expetit debitos titulos, dum alter mavult videri contempfisse.

YE

PLIN. Ep.

ES, you condemn those fages too refin'd,
That gravely lecture ere they know mankind;
Who whilft ambition's fiercer fires they blame,
Would damp each useful spark that kindles fame.
'Tis in false estimates the folly lies;

The paffion's blameless, when the judgment's wife.
In vain philofophers with warmth conteft,
Life's fecret fhade, or open walk is best:
Each has its feparate joys, and each its use:

This calls the patriot forth, and that the Mufe.

។

a Author of Philemon to Hydaspes. He died 29th December 1752.

Hence

Hence not alike to all the fpecies, heav'n
An equal thirst of public fame has giv'n ;
Patrius it forms to fhine in action great;
While Decio's talents beft adorn retreat.
If where Pierian maids delight to dwell,
The haunts of filence, and the peaceful cell,
Had, fair Aftræa! been thy Talbot's choice,

b

Could lift'ning crowds now hang upon his voice?
And thou, bleft maid, might'ft long have wept in vain
The diftant glories of a fecond reign,

In exile doom'd yet ages to complain.

Were high ambition ftill the power confefs'd That rul'd with equal fway in every breast, Say where the glories of the facred nine?

Where Homer's verfe fublime, or, Milton, thine? Nor thou, fweet Bard! who "turn'd the tuneful art, "From found to fenfe, from fancy to the heart,"

Thy lays inftructive to the world hadft giv'n,
Nor greatly justify'd the laws of heav'n.

Let fatire blast with every mark of hate,

The vain afpirer, or difhoneft Great,
Whom love of wealth, or wild ambition's fway
Push forward, still regardless of the way;

}

b Charles Lord Talbot, Lord High Chancellor of Great Britain. He died 14th February 1737.

c Mr. Pope.