We just as wisely might of heav'n complain

That righteous Abel was destroy'd by Cain,
As that the virtuous son is ill at ease

When his lewd father gave the dire disease.

Think we like some weak prince, th' Eternal Cause,

Prone for his fav'rites to reverse his laws?

Shall burning Etna, if a sage requires, Forget to thunder, and recal her fires?

On air or sea new motions be impress'd,

O blameless Bethel! to relieve thy breast? When the loose mountain trembles from on high, Shall gravitation cease, if you go by?

Or some old temple nodding to its fall,

For Chartres' head reserve the hanging wall?

But still this world (so fitted for the knave) Contents us not. A better shall we have?

L

A kingdom of the just then let it be:
But first consider how those just agree.
The good must merit God's peculiar care;
But who but God can tell us who they are?
One thinks on Calvin heaven's own spirit fell;
Another deems him instrument of hell:

If Calvin feel heaven's blessing, or its rod,
This cries there is, and that there is no God.
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,
Was made for Cæsar---but for Titus too:

And which most blest? who chain'd his country,

say,

Or he whose virtue sigh'd to lose a day?

But sometimes virtue starves, 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 knave 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?

"No---shall the good want health, the good want pow'r?"

Add health, and pow'r, and ev'ry earthly thing:

"Why bounded pow'r? why private? why no

king?

Nay, why external for internal giv'n?

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; Say, at what part of nature will they stand?

What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, The soul's calm sun-shine, and the heart-felt joy, Is Virtue's prize :---a better would you fix? Then give Humility a coach and six,

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 wish for here?

The boy and man an individual makes,

Yet sigh'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.
Rewards, that either would to virtue bring
No joy, or be destructive of the thing:
How oft by these at sixty are undone
The virtues of a saint 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 sold.

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

Whose life is healthful, and whose conscience clear, Bécause he wants a thousand pounds a year. Honour and shame from no condition rise;

Act well your part, there all the honour lies.