But if unfeign'd afflictions we endure,
If reafon's our disease, and not our cure,
Then feeming ease is all we can obtain ;
As one, who long familiariz'd to pain,
Still feels the fmart, but ceases to complain.
Tho' young in life, yet long inur'd to care,
Thus I fubmiffive every evil bear:
If unexpected ills alone are hard,
Mine shou'd be light, who am for all prepar❜d :
No difappointments can my peace annoy,
Difufe has wean'd me from all hopes of joy:
The vain purfuit for ever I give o'er,
Repuls'd I ftrive, betray'd I trust no more:
Mankind I know, their nature, and their art,
Their vice their own, their virtue but a part;
Ill play'd fo oft, that all the cheat can tell,
And dang'rous only where 'tis acted well.
In different claffes rang'd, a different name
Attends their practice, but the heart's the same.
Their hate is interest, interest too their love,
On the fame springs these different engines move:
That sharpens malice, and directs her fting,
And thence the honey'd ftreams of flattery fpring.
Long I fufpected what at laft I know:
I thought men worthlefs, now I've prov’d'em so;
Reluctant prov'd it, by too fure a rule,
I learn'd my science in a painful school.
He buys e'en wisdom at too dear a price,
Who pays my fad experience to be wife.
Why did I hope, by fanguine views poffefs'd,
That Virtue harbour'd in a human breast ?
Why did I trust to Flattery's fpecious wile,
The April funshine of her tranfient smile?
Why disbelieve the leffons of the wife,
That taught me young to pierce her thin disguise?
I thought their rancour, not their prudence, spoke,
That age perverfe in false invectives broke ;
I thought their comments on this gaudy scene
The effects of phlegm, and dictated by spleen;
That jealous of the joys themselves were past,
Their
envy try'd to pall their children's taste:
Like the deaf adder to the charmer's tongue,
I gave no credit to the truths they fung;
But, happy in a vifionary scheme,
Still fought companions worthy my esteem:
The tongue, the heart's interpreter I deem'd,
And judg'd of what men were by what they seem'd;
I thought each warm profeffor meant me fair,
Each fupple fycophant a friend fincere.
The folemn hypocrite, whose close design
Mirth never interrupts, nor love, nor wine,
Who talks on any secret but his own,
Collecting all, communicating none;
Who ftill attentive to what others fay,
Obferves to wound, or questions to betray;
Of him as guardian of my private thought,
In morning counfels cool refolves I fought;
To him ftill open, cautiously confign'd
The inmoft treasures of my fecret mind;
My joys, and griefs delighted to impart,
In facred confidence unmix'd with art;
That dangerous pleasure of the honest heart!
Whene'er I purpos'd to unbend my foul
In social banquets, where the circling bowl
To gladness lifts all forrows but despair,
And gives a tranfient Lethe to our care;
I chose the men whofe talents entertain,
And season converse with a lively strain ;
Who thoughtless ftill, by hope, nor fear perplex'd,
Enjoy the present hour, and rifque the next.
These not the luxury of flothful ease,
Soft downy beds, nor balmy flumbers please ;
While wakeful kings on purple couches own
The fecret forrows of their envy'd crown,
And wait revolving light, with shorter reft
Than e'en those wretches by their power oppreft :
This jocund train, devoted to delight,
In chearful vigils ftill protract the night,
Nor dread the cares approaching with the day;
'Thro' each viciflitude for ever gay.
With fuch I commun'd, pleas'd that I cou'd find
Recefs fo grateful to the active mind:
And while the youths in fprightly contest try,
With humorous tale, or appofite reply,
Or amorous fong, or inoffenfive jest,
(The teft of wit) to glad the lengthen'd feaft;
My foul, faid I, depend upon their truth,
For fraud inhabits not the breast of youth;
Indulge thy genius here, be free, be safe,
Mirth is their aim, they covet but to laugh;
Pure from deceit, as ignorant of care,
Their friendship, and their joys are both fincere.
I judg'd their nature, like their humour good;
As if the foul depended on the blood;
And that the feeds of honefty must grow
Wherever health refides, or spirits flow,
I fee my error: but I fee too late :
'Tis vain inspection to look back on Fate.-
What are the men who most esteem'd we find,
But fuch whofe vices are the moft refin'd ?
Blind preferenee! for vice like poifon fhews,
The fureft death is in the subtleft dose..
To fuch reflections when I turn my mind,
I loath my being, and abhor mankind.
What joy for truth, what commerce for the jast,
If all our fafety's founded on distrust;
If all our wisdom is a mean deceit,
And he who profpers but the ableft cheat!
O early wife! how well haft thou defin'd
The worth, the joys, the friendship of mankind!
Bleft be the pow'rs, I know their abje&t state.
ATTICUS.
Yet bear with this, and hope a better fate.
Thrice happy they, who view with stable eyes
The shifting fcene, who temp'rate, firm, and wife,
Can bear its forrows, and its joys despise;
Who look on disappointments, fhocks, and ftrife,
And all the confequential ills of life,
Not as feverities the gods impofe,
But eafy terms indulgent Heav'n allows
To man, by fhort probation to obtain
Immortal recompence for tranfient pain.
Th' intent of Heav'n thus rightly understood,
From every evil we extract a good:
This truth divine implanted in the heart,
Supports each drudging mortal thro' his part;
Gives a delightful prospect to the blind;
The friendlefs thence a conftant fuccour find:
The wretch by fraud betray'd, by pow'r opprefs'd,
With this restorative ftill soothes his breaft;
This fuffering Virtue chears, this Pain beguiles,
And decks Calamity herself in fmiles.
When Mead and Freind have ranfack'd ev'ry rule,
Taught in Hippocrates' and Galen's school,
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