And which more bleft? who chain'd his country, say, Or he whofe Virtue figh'd to lose a day?

"But fometimes Virtue starves, while Vice is fed." What then? Is the reward of Virtue bread?

That, Vice may merit,
The knave deferves it,

'tis the price of toil; when he tills the foil, when he tempts the main,

150

155

The knave deferves it, 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? "No-fhall the good want Health, the good want "Power?"

Add Health and Power, and every earthly thing,
"Why bounded Power? why private? why no king?"
Nay, why external for internal given?

Why is not Man a God, and Earth a Heaven?
Who ask and reafon thus, will scarce conceive
God gives enough, while he has more to give;
Immense the power, 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 fun-fhine, and the heart-felt joy,
Is Virtue's prize: A better would you fix ?
Then give Humility a coach and fix,

Justice a Conqueror's fword, or Truth a gown,
Or Public Spirit its great cure, a Crown.

VARIATION.

After ver. 172. in the MS.

Say, what rewards this idle world imparts,
Or fit for fearching heads or honeft hearts.

379

Weak,

Weak, foolish man! will Heaven reward us there
With the fame trash mad mortals with for here?
The Boy and Man an individual makes,
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 fuch trifles are affign'd,
As toys and empires, for a godlike mind.
Rewards, that either would to Virtue bring
No joy, or be destructive of the thing;
How oft by thefe at fixty are undone
The virtues of a faint at twenty-one!
To whom can Riches give Repute, or Trust,
Content, or Pleafure, but the Good and Juft?
Judges and Senates have been bought for gold.
Efteem and Love were never to be fold.

Oh fool! to think God hates the worthy mind,
The lover and the love of human-kind.

Whofe life is healthful, and whofe confcience clear,
Because he wants a thousand pounds a-year.

175

180

185

190

Honour and fhame from no Condition rife; Act well your part, there all the honour lies. Fortune in Men has fome fmall difference made, One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade; The cobler apron'd, and the parfon gown'd, The frier hooded, and the monarch crown'd.

195

200

"What differ more (you cry) than crown and cow!!"
I'll tell you, friend! a wife man and a fool.
You'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk,
Or, cobler-like, the parfon will be drunk,

Work

Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow :
The reft is all but leather or prunella.

Stuck o'er with titles and hung round with ftrings, That thou may'st be by kings, or whores of kings. Boaft the pure blood of an illuftrious race,

In quiet flow from Lucrece to Lucrece :

But by your fathers' worth if your's you rate,
Count me thofe only who were good and great,
Go! if your ancient, but ignoble blood
Has crept through fcoundrels ever fince the flood,
Go! and pretend your family is young;

Nor own your fathers have been fools fo long.
What can ennoble fots, or flaves, or cowards?
Alas! not all the blood of all the Howards.

210

215

Look next on Greatnefs; fay where Greatnefs lies "Where, but among the Heroes and the Wife ?" Heroes are much the fame, the point 's agreed, From Macedonia's madman to the Swede; The whole strange purpose of their lives, to find Or make, an enemy of all mankind! Not one looks backward, onward still he goes, Yet ne'er looks forward further than his nose. No lefs alike the Politic and Wife:

All fly flow things, with circumfpective eyes :

VARIATION.

220

225

Men

Ver. 207. Boaft the pure blood, &c.] In the MS. thus,
The richest blood, right-honourably old,
Down from Lucretia to Lucretia roll'd,
May fwell thy heart and gallop in thy breast,
Without one dash of ufher or of priest :
Thy pride as much defpife all other pride,
As Chrift-Church once all colleges befide.

Men in their loose unguarded hours they take,

Not that themselves are wife, but others weak.
But grant that those can conquer, these can cheat;
'Tis phrafe abfurd to call a Villain Great:
Who wickedly is wife, or madly brave,
Is but the more a fool, the more a knave.
Who noble ends by noble means obtains,
Or failing, fmiles in exile or in chains,
Like good Aurelius let him reign, or bleed
Like Socrates, that Man is great indeed.

What's Fame? a fancy'd life in others' breath,

230

235

A thing beyond us, ev'n before our death.

Just what you hear, you have, and what's unknown The fame (my Lord) if Tully's, or your own.

240

All that we feel of it begins and ends
In the fmall circle of our foes or friends;
To all befide as much an empty shade
An Eugene living, as a Cæfar dead;

Alike or when, or where they fhone, or fhine,

245

Or on the Rubicon, or on the Rhine.

A Wit's a feather, and a Chief a rod;

An honeft Man 's the nobleft work of God.

Fame but from death a villain's name can fave,

250

As Juftice tears his body from the grave;
When what t' oblivion better were refign'd,
Is hung on high, to poifon half mankind.
All fame is foreign, but of true desert;

Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart:
One felf-approving hour whole years out-weighs 255
Of stupid ftarers, and of loud huzzas;

And

And more true joy Marcellus exil'd feels,
Than Cæfar with a fenate at his heels.

In Parts fuperior what advantage lies?
Tell (for you can) what is it to be wife?
'Tis but to know how little can be known;
To fee all others faults, and feel our own :
Condemn'd in bufinefs or in arts to drudge,

Without a fecond, or without a judge:

Truths would you teach, or fave a finking land?
All fear, none aid you, and few understand.
Painful preheminence! yourself to view

260

265

Above life's weakness, and its comforts too.

Bring then these bleffings to a strict account;

Make fair deductions; fee to what they mount:

270

How much of other each is fure to coft;

How each for other of is wholly loft;

How inconfiftent greater goods with these ;
How fometimes life is rifqu'd, and always ease:
Think, and if ftill the things thy envy call,

Say, would'ft thou be the Man to whom they fall?
To figh for ribbands if thou art so filly,
Mark how they grace Lord Umbra,
or Sir Billy.
Is yellow dirt the paffion of thy life;
Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' wife.
If Parts allure thee, think how Bacon fhin'd,
The wifeft, brightest, meanest of mankind :
Or ravish'd with the whistling of a Name,
See Cromwell, damn'd to everlasting fame!

275

280

If