AN
ESSAY
on
VIRTUE
.
To
the
Honourable
PHILIP
YORKE
,
Esq
;
By
the
Same
.
Atque
ipsa
utilitas
justi
prope
mater
et
aequi
.
HOR.
THOU
,
whom
nor
honours
,
wealth
,
nor
youth
can
spoil
With
the
least
vice
of
each
luxuriant
soil
,
Say
,
YORKE
,
(
for
sure
,
if
any
,
you
can
tell
)
What
Virtue
is
,
who
practise
it
so
well
;
Say
,
where
inhabits
this
Sultana
queen
;
Prais'd
and
ador'd
by
all
,
but
rarely
seen
:
By
what
sure
marks
her
essence
can
we
trace
,
When
each
religion
,
faction
,
age
,
and
place
Sets
up
some
fancy'd
idol
of
its
own
,
A
vain
pretender
to
her
sacred
throne
?
In
man
,
too
oft
a
well-dissembled
part
,
A
self-denying
pride
in
woman's
heart
,
In
synods
faith
,
and
in
the
fields
of
fame
Valour
usurps
her
honours
,
and
her
name
.
Whoe'er
their
sense
of
Virtue
cou'd
express
,
'Tis
still
by
something
they
themselves
possess
.
Hence
youth
good-humour
,
frugal
craft
old
age
,
Warm
politicians
term
it
party-rage
;
True
churchmen
zeal
right
orthodox
;
and
hence
Fools
think
it
gravity
,
and
wits
pretence
;
To
constancy
alone
fond
lovers
join
it
,
And
maids
unask'd
to
chastity
confine
it
.
But
have
we
then
no
law
besides
our
will
?
No
just
criterion
fix'd
to
good
and
ill
?
As
well
at
noon
we
may
obstruct
our
sight
,
Then
doubt
if
such
a
thing
exists
as
light
;
For
no
less
plain
wou'd
nature's
law
appear
,
As
the
meridian
sun
unchang'd
,
and
clear
,
Wou'd
we
but
search
for
what
we
were
design'd
,
And
for
what
end
th'
Almighty
form'd
mankind
,
A
rule
of
life
we
then
should
plainly
see
,
For
to
pursue
that
end
must
Virtue
be
.
Then
what
is
that
?
not
want
of
power
,
or
fame
,
Or
worlds
unnumber'd
to
applaud
his
name
,
But
a
desire
his
blessings
to
diffuse
,
And
fear
lest
millions
should
existence
lose
;
His
goodness
only
could
his
pow'r
employ
,
And
an
eternal
warmth
to
propagate
his
joy
.
Hence
soul
,
and
sense
diffus'd
thro'
ev'ry
place
,
Make
happiness
as
infinite
as
space
;
Thousands
of
suns
beyond
each
other
blaze
,
Orbs
roll
o'er
orbs
,
and
glow
with
mutual
rays
;
Each
is
a
world
,
where
form'd
with
wond'rous
art
,
Unnumber'd
species
live
thro'
every
part
:
In
ev'ry
tract
of
ocean
,
earth
,
and
skies
Myriads
of
creatures
still
successive
rise
;
Scarce
buds
a
leaf
,
or
springs
the
vilest
weed
,
But
little
flocks
upon
its
verdure
feed
;
No
fruit
our
palate
courts
,
or
flow'r
our
smell
,
But
on
its
fragrant
bosom
nations
dwell
,
All
form'd
with
proper
faculties
to
share
The
daily
bounties
of
their
Maker's
care
;
The
great
Creator
from
his
heav'nly
throne
,
Pleas'd
,
on
the
wide-expanded
joy
looks
down
,
And
his
eternal
law
is
only
this
,
That
all
contribute
to
the
general
bliss
.
Nature
so
plain
this
primal
law
displays
,
Each
living
creature
sees
it
,
and
obeys
;
Each
,
form'd
for
all
,
promotes
thro'
private
care
The
publick
good
,
and
justly
tastes
its
share
.
All
understand
their
great
Creator's
will
,
Strive
to
be
happy
,
and
in
that
fulfill
;
Mankind
excepted
;
lord
of
all
beside
,
But
only
slave
to
folly
,
vice
,
and
pride
;
'Tis
he
that's
deaf
to
this
command
alone
,
Delights
in
others'
woe
,
and
courts
his
own
;
Racks
and
destroys
with
tort'ring
steel
and
flame
,
For
lux'ry
brutes
,
and
man
himself
for
fame
:
Sets
Superstition
high
on
Virtue's
throne
,
Then
thinks
his
Maker's
temper
like
his
own
:
Hence
are
his
altars
stain'd
with
reeking
gore
,
As
if
he
could
atone
for
crimes
by
more
:
Hence
whilst
offended
heav'n
he
strives
in
vain
T'
appease
by
fasts
,
and
voluntary
pain
,
Ev'n
in
repenting
he
provokes
again
.
How
easy
is
our
yoke
!
how
light
our
load
!
Did
we
not
strive
to
mend
the
laws
of
God
:
For
his
own
sake
no
duty
he
can
ask
,
The
common
welfare
is
our
only
task
;
For
this
sole
end
his
precepts
,
kind
as
just
,
Forbid
intemp'rance
,
murder
,
theft
,
and
lust
,
With
ev'ry
act
injurious
to
our
own
Or
others'
good
,
for
such
are
crimes
alone
:
For
this
are
peace
,
love
,
charity
,
enjoin'd
,
With
all
that
can
secure
and
bless
mankind
.
Thus
is
the
publick
safety
Virtue's
cause
,
And
happiness
the
end
of
all
her
laws
;
For
such
by
nature
is
the
human
frame
,
Our
duty
and
our
int'rest
are
the
same
.
But
hold
,
cries
out
some
Puritan
divine
,
Whose
well-stuff'd
cheeks
with
ease
and
plenty
shine
,
Is
this
to
fast
,
to
mortify
,
refrain
,
And
work
salvation
out
with
fear
and
pain
?
We
own
,
the
rigid
lessons
of
their
schools
Are
widely
diff'rent
from
these
easy
rules
;
Virtue
,
with
them
,
is
only
to
abstain
From
all
that
nature
asks
,
and
covet
pain
;
Pleasure
and
vice
are
ever
near
a-kin
,
And
,
if
we
thirst
,
cold
water
is
a
sin
:
Heav'n's
path
is
rough
and
intricate
,
they
say
,
Yet
all
are
damn'd
that
trip
,
or
miss
their
way
;
God
is
a
being
cruel
and
severe
,
And
man
a
wretch
,
by
his
command
plac'd
here
,
In
sun-shine
for
awhile
to
take
a
turn
,
Only
to
dry
and
make
him
fit
to
burn
.
Mistaken
men
,
too
piously
severe
!
Thro'
craft
misleading
,
or
misled
by
fear
;
How
little
they
God's
counsels
comprehend
,
Our
universal
parent
,
guardian
,
friend
!
Who
,
forming
by
degrees
to
bliss
mankind
,
This
globe
our
sportive
nursery
assign'd
,
Where
for
awhile
his
fond
paternal
care
Feasts
us
with
ev'ry
joy
our
state
can
bear
:
Each
sense
,
touch
,
taste
,
and
smell
dispense
delight
,
Musick
our
hearing
,
beauty
charms
our
sight
;
Trees
,
herbs
,
and
flow'rs
to
us
their
spoils
resign
,
Its
pearl
the
rock
presents
,
its
gold
the
mine
;
Beasts
,
fowl
,
and
fish
their
daily
tribute
give
Of
food
and
cloaths
,
and
die
that
we
may
live
:
Seasons
but
change
,
new
pleasures
to
produce
,
And
elements
contend
to
serve
our
use
:
Love's
gentle
shafts
,
ambition's
tow'ring
wings
,
The
pomps
of
senates
,
churches
,
courts
,
and
kings
,
All
that
our
rev'rence
,
joy
,
or
hope
create
,
Are
the
gay
play-things
of
this
infant
state
.
Scarcely
an
ill
to
human
life
belongs
,
But
what
our
follies
cause
,
or
mutual
wrongs
;
Or
if
some
stripes
from
Providence
we
feel
,
He
strikes
with
pity
,
and
but
wounds
to
heal
;
Kindly
perhaps
sometimes
afflicts
us
here
,
To
guide
her
views
to
a
sublimer
sphere
,
In
more
exalted
joys
to
fix
our
taste
,
And
wean
us
from
delights
that
cannot
last
.
Our
present
good
the
easy
task
is
made
,
To
earn
superior
bliss
,
when
this
shall
fade
;
For
,
soon
as
e'er
these
moral
pleasures
cloy
,
His
hand
shall
lead
us
to
sublimer
joy
;
Snatch
us
from
all
our
little
sorrows
here
,
Calm
every
grief
,
and
dry
each
childish
tear
;
Waft
us
to
regions
of
eternal
peace
,
Where
bliss
and
virtue
grow
with
like
increase
;
From
strength
to
strength
our
souls
for
ever
guide
,
Thro'
wond'rous
scenes
of
being
yet
untry'd
,
Where
in
each
stage
we
shall
more
perfect
grow
,
And
new
perfections
,
new
delights
bestow
.
Oh
!
would
mankind
but
make
these
truths
their
guide
,
And
force
the
helm
from
prejudice
and
pride
,
Were
once
these
maxims
fix'd
,
that
God's
our
friend
,
Virtue
our
good
,
and
happiness
our
end
,
How
soon
must
reason
o'er
the
world
prevail
,
And
error
,
fraud
,
and
superstition
fail
!
None
wou'd
hereafter
then
with
groundless
fear
Describe
th'
Almighty
cruel
and
severe
,
Predestinating
some
without
pretence
To
heav'n
,
and
some
to
hell
for
no
offence
;
Inflicting
endless
pains
for
transient
crimes
,
And
fav'ring
sects
or
nations
,
men
or
times
.
To
please
him
,
none
would
foolishly
forbear
Or
food
,
or
rest
,
or
itch
in
shirts
of
hair
,
Or
deem
it
merit
to
believe
,
or
teach
,
What
reason
contradicts
,
or
cannot
reach
;
None
wou'd
fierce
zeal
for
piety
mistake
,
Or
malice
for
whatever
tenet's
sake
,
Or
think
salvation
to
one
sect
confin'd
,
And
heav'n
too
narrow
to
contain
mankind
.
No
more
then
nymphs
,
by
long
neglect
grown
nice
,
Wou'd
in
one
female
frailty
sum
up
vice
,
And
censure
those
,
who
,
nearer
to
the
right
,
Think
Virtue
is
but
to
dispense
delight
.
No
servile
tenets
wou'd
admittance
find
,
Destructive
of
the
rights
of
human-kind
;
Of
pow'r
divine
,
hereditary
right
,
And
non-resistance
to
a
tyrant's
might
:
For
sure
that
all
shou'd
thus
for
one
be
curs'd
,
Is
but
great
nature's
edict
just
revers'd
.
No
moralists
then
,
righteous
to
excess
,
Wou'd
show
fair
Virtue
in
so
black
a
dress
,
That
they
,
like
boys
,
who
some
feign'd
spright
array
,
First
from
the
spectre
fly
themselves
away
:
No
preachers
in
the
terrible
delight
,
But
chuse
to
win
by
reason
,
not
affright
;
Not
conjurers
like
,
in
fire
and
brimstone
dwell
,
And
draw
each
moving
argument
from
hell
.
No
more
our
sage
interpreters
of
laws
,
Wou'd
fatten
on
obscurities
,
and
flaws
,
But
rather
nobly
careful
of
their
trust
,
Strive
to
wipe
off
the
long-contracted
dust
,
And
be
,
like
HARDWICKE
,
guardians
of
the
just
.
No
more
applause
wou'd
on
ambition
wait
,
And
laying
waste
the
world
be
counted
great
,
But
one
good-natur'd
act
more
praises
gain
,
Than
armies
overthrown
,
and
thousands
slain
;
No
more
wou'd
brutal
rage
disturb
our
peace
,
But
envy
,
hatred
,
war
,
and
discord
cease
;
Our
own
and
others'
good
each
hour
employ
,
And
all
things
smile
with
universal
joy
;
Virtue
with
Happiness
her
consort
join'd
,
Wou'd
regulate
and
bless
each
human
mind
,
And
man
be
what
his
Maker
first
design'd
.