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Just what is elegantly useful's there ;
How different Rapax spent his worthless hour !
'Tis true, the patriot well deserves his fame, And from his country just applause may claim. But what avails it to the world beside, That Brutus bravely stab’d, or Curtius dy'd ?
While Tully's merit, unconfin'd to place,
Averse to public noise, ambition's ftrife,
There true philosophy erects her school, · There plans her problem, and there forms her rule ;
There every seed of every art began,
'Twas hence great Newton, mighty genius! foard,
And either India speeds her precious stores,
Long as those orbs he weigh'd shall ihed their rays, His truth shall guide us, and shall. last his praise. :
Yet if fo just the fame, the use so great, Systems to poise, and spheres to regulate ; To teach the secret well-adapted force, That steers of countlefs orbs th’unvaried course; Far brighter honors wait the nobler part, To balance manners, and conduct the heart. Order without us, what imports it feen, If all is restless anarchy within ? ! Fir’d by this thought great Ashley, gen’rous fage, Plan'd in sweet leisure his . instructive page. Not orbs he weighs, but marks, with happier skill, The scope of actions and the poife of will: In fair proportion here describ'd we trace Each mental beauty, and each moral grace;' Each useful pasfion taught, its tone design'd In the nice concord of a well-tun'd mind. Does mean felf-love contract each social aim ? Here public transports shall thy soul inflame. Virtue and Deity fupremely fair, Too oft delineated with looks severe, Resume their native smiles and graces here :
. See the Characteriftics, particularly the enquiry concerning Virtue and the Moralists.
Sooth'd into love relenting foes admire,
Such are the fruits which from retirement spring; These blessings ease and learnéd leisure bring.
Yet of the various tasks mankind employ, 'Tis sure the hardest, leisure to enjoy. For one who knows to taste this godlike bliss, What countless swarms of vain pretenders miss ? Though each dull plodding thing, to ape the wise, Ridiculously grave, for leisure fighs, (His boasted wish from busy scenes to run): Grant him that leisure, and the fool's undone.' The gods, to curse poor Demea, heard his vow, And business now no more contracts his brow: Nor real cares, 'tis true, perplex his breast, But thousand fancied ills his peace moleft: The Nightest trifles folid forrows prove, . And the long ling’ring wheel of life fcarce seems to move.
Useless in business, yet unfit for ease, Nor skilld to mend mankind, nor form’d to please, Such spurious animals of worthless race Live but the public burthen and disgrace : Like mean attendants on life's stage are seen, Drawn forth to fill, but not conduct the scenę.