But where th' extreme of vice, was ne'er agreed:
Ask where's the North! at York, 'tis on the Tweed;
In Scotland at the Orcades; and there
At Greenland, Zembla, or the Lord knows where:
No creature owns it in the first degree, 225
But thinks his neighbour farther gone than he,
Ev'n those who dwell beneath its very zone,
Or never feel the rage, or never own,
What happier natures shrink at with affright,
The hard inhabitant contends is right. 230
Virt'ous and vitious every man must be,
Few in th' extreme, but all in the degree;
The rogue and fool by fits are fair and wise,
And ev'n the best, by fits, what they despise.
'Tis but by parts we follow good or ill, 235
For, vice or virtue, self directs it still;
Each individual seeks a sev'ral goal;
But heav'n's great view is one, and that the whole:
That counter-works each folly and caprice;
That disappoints th' effect of ev'ry vice: 240
That happy frailties to all ranks apply'd,
Shame to the virgin, to the matron pride,
Fear to the statesman, rashness to the chief,
To kings presumption, and to crowds belief:
That virtue's ends from vanity can raise, 245
Which seeks no int'rest, no reward but praise;
And build on wants, and on defects of mind,
The joy, the peace, the glory of mankind.
Heav'n
