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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 mayft be by kings, or whores of kings. Boaft the pure blood of an illustrious race,

In quiet flow from Lucrece to Lucrece :

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

Nor own your fathers have been fools so 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 Greatness 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 ftrange 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 nofe.

220

VARIATION.

Ver. 207. Boaft the pure blood, &c.] In the MS. thus:

The richest blood, right-honourably old,

Down from Lucretia to Lucretia roli'd,
May fwell thy heart and gallop in thy breast,
Without one dash of usher or of priest:
Thy pride as much defpife all other pride,
As Christ-Church once all colleges befide.

No

No lefs alike the Politic and Wife:
All fly flow things, with circumfpective eyes:
Men in their loofe unguarded hours they take,
Not that themselves are wife, but others weak.
But grant that those can conquer, thefe can cheat;
'Tis phrase 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.

225

230

235

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

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

Juft 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 fhade

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 save,

As Juftice tears his body from the grave;

250

When what t' oblivion better were refign'd,
Is hung on high to poifon half mankind.

All fame is foreign, but of true defert;

Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart:

One

One felf-approving hour whole years out-weighs 255
Of ftupid ftarers, and of loud huzzas;

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 businefs or in arts to drudge,
Without a fecond, or without a judge:

200

Truths would you teach, or fave a finking land? 265
All fear, none aid you, and few understand.
Painful preheminence! yourself to view

Above life's weakness, and its comforts too.

Bring then thefe bleffings to a strict account;

Make fair deductions; fee to what they mount:

270

How much of other each is fure to coft;

How much for other oft is wholly loft;
How inconfitent greater goods with thefe;

How fometimes life is rifqu'd, and always cafe:
Think, and if fill the things thy envy call,

275

Say, wouldst thou be the Man to whom they fall?
To figh for ribbands if thou art fo 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, meaneft of mankind :
Or ravish'd with the whiftling of a Name,
See Cromwell, damn'd to everlasting fame!

280

If

If all, united, thy ambition call,

From ancient ftory, learn to fcorn them all.

There, in the rich, the honour'd, fam'd, and great,
See the falfe fcale of Happiness complete!

In hearts of Kings, or arms of Queens who lay,
How happy! thofe to ruin, these betray.
Mark by what wretched fteps their glory grows,
From dirt and fea-weed as proud Venice rose;
In each how guilt and greatness equal ran,
And all that rais'd the Hero, funk the Man:
Now Europe's laurels on their brows behold,
But ftain'd with blood, or ill exchang'd for gold:
Then fee them broke with toils, or sunk in ease,
Or infamous for plunder'd provinces.

O! wealth ill-fated! which no act of fame

E'er taught to shine, or fanctify'd from shame!
What greater blifs attends their clofe of life?
Some greedy minion, or imperious wife,
The trophy'd arches, ftory'd halls invade,
And haunt their flumbers in the pompous
Alas! not dazzled with their noon-tide ray,
Compute the morn and evening to the day;
'The whole amount of that enormous fame,

fhade.

285

290

295

300

305

A Tale, that blends their glory with their fhame! Know then this truth (enough for Man to know) "Virtue alone is Happiness below."

310

The only point where human bliss stands ftill,
And taftes the good without the fail to ill;
Where only Merit conftant pay receives,
Is bleft in what it takes, and what it gives;

The

The joy unequal'd, if its end it gain,
And if it lofe, attended with no pain:
Without fatiety, though e'er fo blefs'd,

315

And but more relifh'd as the more diftrefs'd:
The broadeft mirth unfeeling Folly wears,

Lefs pleafing far than Virtue's very tears:

320

Good, from each object, from each place acquir'd,

For ever exercis'd, yet never tir'd;

Never elated, while one man's opprefs'd;

Never dejected, while another 's bleft;

And where no wants, no wifhes can remain,

325

Since but to wish more Virtue, is to gain.

See the fole blifs Heaven could on all beftow!

Which who but feels can tafte, but thinks can know:
Yet poor with fortune, and with learning blind,
The bad must mifs; the good, untaught, will find; 350
Slave to no fect, who takes no private road,

But looks through Nature, up to Nature's God;
Pursues that Chain which links th' immenfe defign,
Joins heaven and earth, and mortal and divine;

VARIATION.

After ver. 316, in the MS.

Ev'n while it feems unequal to difpofe,

And chequers all the good Man's joys with woes,
'Tis but to teach him to fupport each state,
With patience this, with moderation that;
And raife his bafe on that one folid joy,

Which confcience gives, and nothing can deftroy.

VOL. XLVI.

G

Sees,

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