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 .