In vain the fage, with retrospective eye,

Would from th' apparent What conclude the Why, roo Infer the motive from the deed, and fhew,

That what we chanc'd was what we meant to do.

Behold if fortune or a mistress frowns,

Some plunge in bus'nefs, others fhave their crowns':

To eafe the foul of one oppreffive weight,
This quits an empire, that embroils a state:
The fame aduft complexion has impell'd
Charles to the convent, Philip to the field *.
Not always actions fhew the man: we find
Who does a kindness, is not therefore kind:
Perhaps profperity becalm'd his breast,
Perhaps the wind juft fhifted from the eaft:
Not therefore humble he who feeks retreat,

Pride guides his fteps, and bids him fhun the great:
Who combats bravely is not therefore brave,
He dreads a death-bed like the meanest flave;
Who reasons wifely is not therefore wife,
His pride in reas'ning, not in acting lies.

But grant that actions beft discover man;
Take the most ftrong, and fort them as you can.
The few that glare, each character muft mark,
You balance not the many in the dark.
What will you do with fuch as difagree?
Supprefs them, or mifcall them policy?
Muft then at once (the character to fave)
The plain rough hero turn a crafty knave?
Alas! in truth the man but chang'd his mind,
Perhaps was fick, in love, or had not din'd.

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*The attrabilaire complexion of Philip II. is well known, but not fo well that he derived it from his father Charles V. whofe health, the hiftorians of his life tell us, was frequently difordered by bilious fevers. But what the author meant principally to obferve here was, that this humour made both these princes act contrary to their character; Charles, who was an active man, when he retired into a convent; Philip, who was a man of the elofet, when he gave the battle of St. Quintin.

Afk why from Britain Cæfar would retreat ?
Cæfar himself might whisper he was beat.
Why rifk the world's great empire for a punk? †
Cæfar perhaps might answer he was drunk.
But fage hiftorians! 'tis your talk to prove
One action conduct; one heroic love.

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'Tis from high life high characters are drawn;

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A faint in crape is twice a faint in lawn;

A judge is juft, a chanc'lor jufter ftill;

A gownman, learn'd; a bishop, what you will;
Wife, if a minifter; but, if a king,

More wife, more learn'd, more juft, more ev'ry thing.
Court-virtues bear, like gems, the highest rate,
Born where heav'n's influence fcarce can penetrate :
In life's low vale, the foil the virtues like,
They please as beauties, here as wonders ftrike.
Tho' the fame fun with all-diffufive rays

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Blush in the rofe, and in the di'mond blaze.
We prize the stronger effort of his pow'r,
And juftly fet the gem above the flow'r.
'Tis education forms the common mind,
Juft as the twig is bent, the tree's inclin'd.
Boaftful and rough, your first son is a 'fquire ;
The next a tradesman, meek, and much a liar ;
Tom ftruts a foldier, open, bold and brave;
Will sneaks a fcriv'ner, an exceeding knave :
Is he a churchman? then he's fond of pow'r :
A quaker? fly: a prefbyterian ? four:
A fmart free-thinker? all things in an hour,

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Cæfar wrote his Commentaries, in imitation of the Greek Generals, for the entertainment of the world: But had his friends asked him, in his car, the reafon of his fudden retreat from Britain, after fo many pretended victories, we have cause to fufpect, even from his own public relation of the matter, that he would have Whisper'd he was beat.

After the battle of Pharfalia, Cæfar purfued his enemy to Alexandria, where he became infatuated with the charms of Cleopatra, and instead of pushing his advantages, and difperfing the relicks of the Pharfalian quarrel, (after narrowly efeaping the violence of an enraged populace) brought upon bimfelf an unneceffary war, at a time his arms were most wanted elsewhere.

Rr 2

Ask

Afk men's opinions: Scoto now fhall tell

How trade increafes, and the world goes well;

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Strike off his penfion, by the fetting fun,
And Britain, if not Europe, is undone."
That gay free-thinker, a fine talker once,
What turns him now a stupid filent dunce?
Some God, or fpirit, he has lately found;
Or chanc'd to meet a minifter that frown'd.
Judge we by nature ? habit can efface,
Int'reft o'ercome, or policy take place:
By actions? those uncertainty divides:
By paffions? these diffimulation hides:
Opinions? they still take a wider range :
Find, if you can, in what you cannot change.

Manners with fortunes, humours turn'd with climes,

Tenets with books, and principles with times.

Search then the RULING PASSION: * there, alone,

The wild are conftant, and the cunning known;
The fool confiftent, and the false fincere ;
Priefts, princes, women, no diffemblers here.
This clue once found, unravels all the reft,
The profpect clears, and Wharton ftands confeft.
Wharton, the fcorn and wonder of our days,
Whofe ruling paffion was the luft of praife:
Born with whate'er could win it from the wife,

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Women and fools muft like him or he dies:

Tho' wond'ring fenates hung on all he spoke,
The club muft hail him mafter of the joke.

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Shall parts fo various aim at nothing new?
He'll fhine a Tully, and a Wilmot + too.

Then turns repentant, and his God adores

With the fame fpirit that he drinks and whores;
Enough if all around him but admire,

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And now the punk applaud, and now the frier,

* See Effay on Man, ep. ii. ver. 133. et feq.

John Wilmot, E. of Rochefter, famous for his wit and extravagancies

in the time of Charles II.

i.

Thus

Thus with each gift of nature and of art,
And wanting nothing but an honest heart;
Grown all to all, from no one vice exempt;
And moft contemptible, to shun contempt;
His paffion ftill, to covet gen'ral praise,
His life, to forfeit it a thousand ways;
A conftant bounty which no friend has made;
An angel tongue, which no man can perfuade;
A fool, with more of wit than half mankind,
Too rash for thought, for action too refin❜d :
A tyrant to the wife his heart approves ;
A rebel to the very king he loves;

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He dies, fad outcaft of each church and ftate,
And, harder still! flagitious, yet not great.
Afk you why Wharton broke thro' ev'ry rule?
'Twas all for fear the knaves fhould call him fool.
Nature well known, no prodigies remain,
Comets are regular, and Wharton plain.

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Yet, in this fearch, the wifeft may mistake,

If fecond qualities for firft they take.
When Catiline by rapine fwell'd his ftore;
When Cæfar made a noble dame a whore;

In this the luft, in that the avarice

Were means, not ends; ambition was the vice.
That very Cæfar born in Scipio's days,

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Had aim'd, like him, by chastity, at praise.
Lucullus, when frugality could charm,
Had roasted turnips in the Sabine farm.
In vain th' obferver eyes the builder's toil,
But quite miftakes the fcaffold for the pile.

In this one paffion man can ftrength enjoy,
As fits give vigour, juft when they destroy.
Time, that on all things lays his lenient hand,
Yet tames not this; it fticks to our laft fand.
Confiftent in our follies and our fins,
Here honeft nature ends as fhe begins.

Old politicians chew on wisdom past,

And totter on in bus'nefs to the laft;

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As

As weak, as earnest; and as gravely out,
As fober Lanefb'row * dancing in the gout.
Behold a rev'rend fire, whom want of grace
Has made the father of a nameless race,
Shov'd from the wall perhaps, or rudely prefs'd
By his own fon, that paffes by unbless'd:
Still to his wench he crawls on knocking knees,
And envies ev'ry fparrow that he fees.

A falmon's belly, Helluo, was thy fate;
The doctor call'd, declares all help too late :
"Mercy! cries Helluo, mercy on my foul!
"Is there no hope ?-Alas!-then bring the jowl."
The frugal crone, whom praying priefts attend,
Still ftrives to fave the hallow'd taper's end,
Collects her breath, as ebbing life retires,
For one puff more, and in that puff expires.

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"Odious! in woollen! 'twould a faint provoke, (Where the last words that poor Narciffa fpoke) "No let a charming Chintz, and Bruffels lace "Wrap my cold limbs, and fhade my lifelefs face: "One would not, fure, be frightful when one's dead"And-Betty-give this cheek a little red."

The courtier smooth, who forty years had shin'd

An humble fervant to all human-kind,

251

Juft brought out this, when scarce his tongue could stir, "If-where I'm going-I could ferve you Sir?" "I give and I devife (old Euclio faid,

255

And figh'd) "my lands and tenements to Ned." Your money, Sir?" My money, Sir, what all ? "Why,—if I muft-(then wept) I give it Paul.” The manor, Sir?" The manor! hold, he cry'd, 260 "Not that, I cannot part with that"-and dy'd.

And you! brave Cobham, to the latest breath, Shall feel your ruling paffion ftrong in death: Such in those moments as in all the past,

"Oh, fave my country, heav'n !" fhall be your last.

* An ancient nobleman, who continued this practice long after his legs were disabled by the gout. Upon the death of Prince George of Denmark, he demanded an audience of the queen, to advise her to preserve her health, and dispel her grief by Dancing.

MORAL