[]
AN ESSAY on MAN.
IN EPISTLES to a FRIEND.
Corrected by the AUTHOR.
No, I. II. III. IV.
[][]
AN ESSAY on MAN.
IN EPISTLES to a FRIEND.
DUBLIN: Printed by S. POWELL, For GEORGE RISK at the Shakeſpeare's Head, GEORGE EWING at the Angel and Bible, and WILLIAM SMITH at the Hercules, Bookſellers in Dameſtreet, M. DCC. XXXIII. [Price One Shilling.]
[] []AN ESSAY on MAN.
EPISTLE I. Of the Nature and State of Man with reſpect to the Univerſe.
Of Man in the Abſtract. We can judge only with regard to our own Syſtem, being ignorant of the Relations of Syſtems and Things, VERSE 17, &c. Man is not therefore to be deem'd Im⯑perfect, but a Being ſuited to his Place and Rank in the Crea⯑tion, agreeable to the General Order of Things, and conformable to Ends and Relations to Him unknown, 35, &c. It is partly upon this Ignorance of future Events, and partly upon the Hope of a Future State, that all his Happineſs in the Preſent depends, 73, &c. His Pride, in aiming at more Knowledge, and pretend⯑ing to more Perfection, the Cauſe of his Error and Miſery, 120. The Impiety of putting himſelf in the Place of God, and judging of the Fitneſs or Unfitneſs, Perfection or Imperfection, Juſtice or Injuſtice, of His Diſpenſations, 109. The Abſurdity of conceiting himſelf the Final Cauſe of the Creation, or expect⯑ing that Perfection in the Moral World which is not in the Na⯑tural, 127 to 164. The Unreaſonableneſs of his Complaints againſt Providence, while on the one Hand he demands the Per⯑fections of the Angels, on the other the bodily Qualifications of the Brutes, 165. That the Gift of Reaſon alone countervails all the latter, and that to poſſeſs any of the Senſitive Faculties in a higher Degree, would render him miſerable, 181, 221. That throughout the whole viſible World, an Univerſal Order and [4] Gradation in theſe is obſerv'd, which cauſes a Subordination of Creature to Creature, and of all Creatures to Man. The Grada⯑tions of Senſe, Inſtinct, Thought, Reflection, Reaſon, 199, to 124. How much farther this Order and Subordination of living Creatures may extend, above and below us? 225. Were any Part of this broken, not that Part only, but the Whole connected Cre⯑ation muſt be deſtroyed. The Extravagance, Madneſs, and Pride of ſuch a Deſire, 239, &c. Conſequently, the abſolute Submiſſion due to Providence, both as to our Preſent and Future State, 269. &c.
AWAKE! my LAELIUS leave all meaner things
To low Ambition, and the Pride of Kings.
Let us (ſince Life can little more ſupply
Than juſt to look about us, and to die)
Expatiate free o'er all this Scene of Man;
A mighty Maze! but not without a Plan;
A Wild, where weeds and flow'rs promiſcuous ſhoot,
Or Garden, tempting with forbidden fruit.
Together let us beat this ample Field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield,
The latent Tracts, the giddy Heights explore
Of all who blindly creep, or ſightleſs ſoar;
Eye Nature's Walk, ſhoot Folly as it flies,
And catch the Manners living as they riſe;
Laugh where we muſt, be candid where we can,
But vindicate the Ways of God to Man.
Say firſt, of God above, or Man below,
What can we reaſon, but from what we know?
Of Man, what ſee we but his Station here,
From which to reaſon, or to which refer?
Thro' Worlds unnumber'd tho' the God be known,
'Tis ours to trace him, only in our own;
[5] He who thro' vaſt Immenſity can pierce,
See Worlds on Worlds compoſe one Univerſe,
Obſerve how Syſtem into Syſtem runs,
What other Planets, and what other Suns:
What vary'd Being peoples ev'ry Star:
May tell, why Heav'n made all things as they are.
But of this Frame the Bearings, and the Ties,
The ſtrong Connections, nice Dependencies,
Gradations juſt, has thy pervading Soul
Look'd thro'? or can a Part contain the Whole?
Is the great Chain that draws all to agree,
And drawn ſupports, upheld by God, or thee?
Preſumptuous Man! the Reaſon would'ſt thou find,
Why form'd ſo weak, ſo little, and ſo blind?
Firſt, if thou can'ſt, the harder reaſon gueſs,
Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no leſs;
Ask of thy Mother Earth, why Oaks are made
Taller or ſtronger than the Weeds they ſhade?
Or ask of yonder argent fields above,
Why JOVE's Satellites are leſs than JOVE?
Of Syſtems poſſible, if 'tis confeſt
That Wiſdom infinite muſt form the Beſt,
Where all muſt full or not coherent be,
And all that riſes, riſe in due degree;
Then, in the Scale of Life and Senſe 'tis plain
There muſt be, ſome where, ſuch a Rank as Man;
[6] And all the Queſtion (wrangle e'er ſo long)
Is only this, if God has plac'd him wrong?
Reſpecting Man whatever wrong we call,
May, muſt be right, as relative to All.
In human works, tho' labour'd on with pain,
A thouſand movements ſcarce one purpoſe gain;
In God's, one ſingle can its End produce,
Yet ſerves to ſecond too ſome other Uſe.
So Man, who here ſeems principal alone,
Perhaps acts ſecond to ſome Sphere unknown,
Touches ſome Wheel, or verges to ſome Gole;
'Tis but a Part we ſee, and not a Whole.
When the proud Steed ſhall know, why Man reſtrains
His fiery courſe, or drives him o'er the plains;
When the dull Ox, why now he breaks the clod,
Now wears a Garland, an Aegyptian God;
Then ſhall Man's Pride and Dulneſs comprehend
His Action's, Paſſion's, Being's, Uſe and End;
Why doing, ſuff'ring, check'd, impell'd; and why
This Hour a Slave, the next a Deity!
Then ſay not Man's imperfect, Heav'n in Fault,
Say rather, Man's as perfect as he ought;
His being meaſur'd to his State, and Place,
His time a Moment, and a Point his Space.
Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of Fate,
All but the page preſcrib'd, their preſent ſtate;
[7] From Brutes what Men, from Men what Spirits know;
Or who could ſuffer Being here below?
The Lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to day
Had he thy Reaſon woul'd he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the laſt, he crops the flow'ry Food,
And licks the Hand juſt rais'd to ſhed his blood.
Oh blindneſs to the future! kindly giv'n,
That each may fill the Circle mark'd by Heav'n,
Who ſees with equal eye, as God of All,
A Hero periſh, or a Sparrow fall,
Atoms, or Syſtems, into ruin hurl'd,
And now a Bubble burſt, and now a World!
Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions ſoar;
Wait the great Teacher, Death, and God adore!
What bliſs above, he gives not thee to know,
But gives that Hope to be thy bleſſing now.
Hope ſprings eternal in the human breaſt;
Man never is, but always to be bleſt;
The ſoul uneaſy, and confin'd at home,
Reſts, and expatiates in a life to come.
Lo! the poor INDIAN, whoſe untutor'd Mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the Wind;
His ſoul, proud Science never taught to ſtray
Far as the Solar walk, or Milky way;
Yet ſimple Nature to his hope has giv'n
Behind the cloud-topt hill an humbler Heav'n,
Some ſafer world in depth of Woods embrac'd,
Some happier iſland in the watry waſte;
[8] Where Slaves once more their native land behold,
No Fiends torment, no Chriſtians thirſt for Gold.
To be content's his natural deſire,
He asks no Angel's Wing or Seraph's Fire,
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky
His faithful Dog ſhall bear him company.
Go, wiſer Thou! and in thy ſcale of ſenſe
Weigh thy Opinion againſt Providence:
Call Imperfection what thou fancy'ſt ſuch,
Say, here HE gives too little, there too much;
Deſtroy all Creatures for thy ſport or guſt,
Yet cry, if Man's unhappy, God's unjuſt;
If Man, alone, engroſs not Heav'ns high Care,
Alone, made perfect here, immortal there:
Snatch from his hand the Balance and the Rod;
Rejudge his Juſtice, Be the GOD of GOD!
In reas'ning Pride (my Friend) our error lies;
All quit their ſphere, and ruſh into the Skies.
Pride ſtill is aiming at the bleſt abodes,
Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods.
Aſpiring to be Gods, if Angels fell,
Aſpiring to be Angels, Men rebel:
And who but wiſhes to invert the Laws
Of ORDER, ſins againſt th' Eternal Cauſe.
Ask for what end the heav'nly bodies ſhine?
Earth for whoſe uſe? Pride anſwers, "'Tis for mine:
"For me kind Nature wakes her genial Power,
"Suckles each herb, and ſwells out ev'ry flow'r;
[9] "Annual for me, the Grape, the Roſe renew
"The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew!
"For me, the Mine a thouſand treaſures brings,
"For me, health guſhes from a thouſand Springs;
"Seas roll to waft me, ſuns to light me riſe;
"My Footſtool Earth, my Canopy the Skies!"
But errs not Nature from this gracious end,
From burning ſuns when livid deaths deſcend,
When Earthquakes ſwallow, or when tempeſts ſweep
Towns to one grave, a Nation to the deep?
"No ('tis reply'd) the firſt Almighty Cauſe
"Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral Laws:
"Th' exceptions few; ſome change ſince all began;
"And what created, perfect?"—Why then Man?
If the great End be human Happineſs,
And Nature deviates; how can Man do leſs?
As much that End a conſtant courſe requires
Of Show'rs and ſunſhine, as of man's deſires,
As much eternal ſprings and cloudleſs skies,
As men for ever temp'rate, calm, and wiſe.
If Plagues or Earthquakes break not Heav'n's deſign,
Why then a Borgia or a Cataline?
From Pride, from Pride, our very reas'ning ſprings;
Account for moral, as for nat'ral things:
Why charge we Heav'n in thoſe, in theſe acquit?
In both, to reaſon right, is to ſubmit.
Better for US, perhaps, it might appear,
Were there all Harmony, all Virtue here;
[10] That never Air or Ocean felt the wind;
That never Paſſion diſcompos'd the mind;
But ALL ſubſiſts by Elemental ſtrife;
And Paſſions are the Elements of Life.
The gen'ral ORDER, ſince the whole began,
Is kept in Nature, and is kept in Man.
What would this Man? now upward will he ſoar,
And little leſs than Angel, would be more;
Now looking downward, juſt as griev'd appears
To want the ſtrength of Bulls, the Fur of Bears.
Made for his uſe all Creatures if he call,
Say what their uſe, had he the pow'rs of all?
Nature to theſe, without profuſion kind,
The proper organs, proper pow'rs aſſign'd,
Each ſeeming want compenſated of courſe,
Here, with degrees of Swiftneſs; there, of Force;
All in exact proportion to the State,
Nothing to add, and nothing to abate.
Each Beaſt, each Inſect, happy in its own;
Is Heav'n unkind to Man, and Man alone?
Shall he alone, whom rational we call,
Be pleas'd with nothing, if not bleſs'd with all?
The bliſs of Man (could Pride that bleſſing find)
Is, not to think, or act beyond Mankind;
No Pow'rs of Body, or of Soul to ſhare,
But what his Nature, and his State can bear.
Why has not Man a microſcopic ſight?
For this plain reaſon, Man is not a Mite:
[11] Say, what th' Advantage of ſo fine an eye?
T' inſpect a Mote, not comprehend the Sky?
Or Touch, ſo tremblingly alive all o'er,
To ſmart, and agonize et ev'ry pore?
Or quick Effluvia darting thro' the brain,
To ſink oppreſt with Aromatic pain?
If Nature thunder'd in his opening ears,
And ſtunn'd him with the muſic of the Spheres,
How would he wiſh, that Heav'n had left him ſtill
The whiſp'ring Zephyr, and the purling Rill?
Who finds not Providence all-good and wiſe,
Alike in what it gives, and what denies?
Far as Creation's ample Range extends,
The Scale of ſenſual, mental pow'rs aſcends:
Mark how it mounts, to Man's imperial race
From the green Myriads in the peopled Graſs!
What modes of ſight, betwixt each wide extreme,
The mole's dim curtain, and the Lynx's beam:
Of ſmell, the headlong Lioneſs between,
And Hound, ſagacious on the tainted green!
Of hearing, from the Life that fills the flood,
To that which warbles thro' the vernal wood:
The Spider's touch, how exquiſitely fine,
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.
In the nice Bee, what ſenſe ſo ſubtly true
From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew:
How Inſtinct varies! in the grov'ling Swine,
Compar'd, half-reas'ning Elephant! with thine;
[12] 'Twixt that, and Reaſon, what a nice Barrier,
For ever ſep'rate, yet for ever near.
Remembrance, and Reflection, how ally'd!
What thin partitions Senſe from Thought divide:
And middle Natures, how they long to join,
Yet never paſs th'inſuperable Line!
Without this juſt Gradation, could they be
Subjected theſe to thoſe, or all to thee?
The Pow'rs of all ſubdu'd by thee alone,
Is not thy Reaſon all thoſe pow'rs in one?
See, thro' this Air, this Ocean, and this Earth,
All Matter quick, and burſting into birth,
Above, how high progreſſive life may go?
Around how wide? how deep extend below?
Vaſt Chain of Being! which from God began,
Nature's ethereal, human Angel, Man,
Beaſt, Bird, Fiſh, Inſect! what no Eye can ſee,
No Glaſs can reach! from Infinite to Thee!
From Thee to Nothing!—On ſuperior Pow'rs
Were we to preſs, inferior might on ours;
Or in the full Creation leave a Void,
Where, one ſtep broken, the great Scale's deſtroy'd:
From Nature's Chain whatever Link you ſtrike,
Tenth, or ten thouſandth, breaks the chain alike.
And if each Syſtem in Gradation roll,
Alike eſſential to th'amazing Whole;
The leaſt confuſion but in one, not all
That Syſtem only, but the whole muſt fall.
[13] Let Earth unbalanc'd from her Orbit fly,
Planets and Suns ruſh lawleſs thro' the Sky:
Let ruling Angels from their Spheres be hurl'd,
Being on Being wreck'd, and World on World;
Heav'n's whole Foundations to their Centre nod,
And Nature tremble to the Throne of God:
All this dread Order break?—For whom? For thee?
Vile Worm!—O Madneſs! Pride! Impiety!
What if the Foot, ordain'd the duſt to tread,
Or Hand to toil, aſpir'd to be the Head?
What if the Head, the eye, or ear, repin'd
To ſerve mere Engines to the ruling Mind?
Juſt as abſurd, for any Part to claim
To be another, in this gen'ral Frame:
Juſt as abſurd, to mourn the tasks or pains,
The great directing MIND of ALL ordains.
All are but parts of one ſtupendous Whole:
Whoſe Body Nature is, and God the Soul.
That, chang'd thro' all, and yet in all the ſame,
Great in the Earth as in th' ethereal frame,
Warms in the Sun, refreſhes in the Breeze,
Glows in the Stars, and bloſſoms in the Trees,
Lives thro' all Life, extends thro' all Extent,
Spreads undivided, operates unſpent,
Breathes in our ſoul, informs our mortal part,
As full, as perfect, in a hair, as heart;
As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourns,
As the rapt Seraphim, that ſings and burns;
[14] To Him no high, no low, no great, no ſmall;
He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.
Ceaſe then, nor ORDER Imperfection name:
Our proper bliſs depends on what we blame.
Know thy own Point. This juſt, this kind degree
Of blindneſs, weakneſs, Heav'n beſtows on thee,
Submit—in this, or any other Sphere,
Secure to be as bleſt as thou canſt bear.
Safe in the hand of one diſpoſing Pow'r,
Or in the natal, or the mortal hour:
All Nature is but Art, unknown to thee;
All Chance, Direction which thou canſt not ſee;
All Diſcord, Harmony not underſtood;
All partial Evil, univerſal Good:
And ſpight of Pride, in erring Reaſon's ſpight,
One truth is clear; "Whatever Is, is RIGHT."
The End of the Firſt EPISTLE.
AN ESSAY on MAN. EPISTLE II. Of the Nature and State of Man with reſpect to himſelf as an Individual.
[]The Buſineſs of Man not to pry into God, but to ſtudy Himſelf. His Middle Nature; his Powers and Frailties, and the Limits of his Capacity, V. 3, to 43. His two Principles, SELF⯑LOVE and REASON, 43. both neceſſary, 49. Self-Love the ſtronger, and why? 57. their End the ſame, 71. The PASSIONS, and their Uſe, 84, to 120. The PREDOMINANT PASSION, and its Force, 122, to 150. its Neceſſity, in di⯑recting Men to different Purpoſes, 151. its Providential Uſe, in fixing our PRINCIPLE, and aſcertaining our VIRTUE. 163. Virtue and Vice join'd in our Mixt Nature; the Li⯑mits near, yet the Things ſeparate, and evident. What is the Office of Reaſon? 181, &c. How odious Vice in itſelf, and how we deceive ourſelves into it, 200. That however, the Ends of Providence and General Good are anſwer'd in our Paſſions, and Imperfections, 222, &c. How uſefully theſe are diſtribut⯑ed to all Orders of Men, 227 how uſeful they are to Society. 235. and to the Individuals, 247. In every State, and in every Age of Life, 257, to the end.
KNOW then Thy ſelf, preſume not God to ſcan;
The only Science of Mankind is Man.
Plac'd on this Iſthmus of a Middle State,
A Being darkly wiſe, and rudely great:
[16] With too much Knowledge for the Sceptick Side,
With too much Weakneſs for a Stoic's Pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or reſt,
To deem himſelf a Part of God, or Beaſt;
In doubt, his Mind or Body to prefer,
Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err;
Alike in Ignorance his Reaſon ſuch,
Whether he thinks too little, or too much.
Chaos of Thought and Paſſion, all confus'd;
Still by himſelf abus'd, or diſ-abus'd;
Created half to riſe, and half to fall;
Great Lord of all things, yet a Prey to all;
Sole Judge of Truth, in endleſs Error hurl'd:
The Glory, Jeſt, and Riddle, of the World!
Go wondrous Creature! mount where Science guides,
Go meaſure Earth, weigh Air, and ſtate the Tides,
Inſtruct the Planets in what Orbs to run,
Correct old Time, and regulate the Sun.
Go ſoar with Plato to th'empyreal Sphere,
To the firſt Good, firſt Perfect, and firſt Fair;
Or tread the mazy round his Follow'rs trod,
And quitting Senſe call Imitating God,
As Eaſtern Prieſts in giddy Circles run,
And turn their Heads to imitate the Sun.
Go, teach Eternal Wiſdom how to rule;
Then drop into Thy-ſelf, and be a Fool!
Superior Beings, when of late they ſaw
A mortal Man unfold all Nature's Law,
[17] Admir'd ſuch Wiſdom in an earthly Shape,
And ſhow'd a Newton, as we ſhow an Ape.
Could he who taught each Planet where to roll,
Deſcribe, or fix, one Movement of the Soul?
Who mark'd their Points, to riſe, and to deſcend,
Explain his own Beginning, or his End?
Alas what Wonder! Man's ſuperior Part
Uncheck'd may riſe, and climb from Art to Art;
But when his own great Work is but begun,
What Reaſon weaves, by Paſſion is undone.
Two Principles in human Nature reign;
Self-Love, to urge, and Reaſon, to reſtrain;
Nor this a good, nor that a bad we call,
Each works its end, to move, or govern all:
And to their proper Operation ſtill
Aſcribe all Good, to their improper, Ill.
Self-Love, the Spring of Motion, acts the Soul;
Reaſon's comparing Balance rules the whole;
Man, but for that, no Action could attend,
And but for this, were active to no End.
Fix'd like a Plant on his peculiar Spot,
To draw nutrition, propagate, and rot;
Or Meteor-like, flame lawleſs through the Void,
Deſtroying others, by himſelf deſtroy'd.
Moſt Strength the moving Principle requires,
Active its Task, it prompts, impels, inſpires:
[18] Sedate and quiet the comparing lies,
Form'd but to check, delib'rate, and adviſe.
Self-Love ſtill ſtronger, as its Object's nigh;
Reaſons at diſtance, and in proſpect lye;
That ſees immediate Good, by preſent Senſe,
Reaſon, the future, and the conſequence;
Thicker than Arguments, Temptations throng,
At beſt more watchful this, but that more ſtrong.
The Action of the ſtronger to ſuſpend,
Reaſon ſtill uſe, to Reaſon ſtill attend:
Attention, Habit and Experience gains,
Each ſtrengthens Reaſon, and Self-Love reſtrains.
Let ſubtile Schoolmen teach theſe Friends to fight,
More ſtudious to divide, than to unite,
And Grace and Virtue, Senſe and Reaſon ſplit,
With all the raſh Dexterity of Wit.
Wits, juſt like Fools, at War about a Name,
Have full as oft no Meaning, or the ſame.
Self-Love and Reaſon to one End aſpire,
Pain their Averſion, Pleaſure their Deſire;
But greedy That its Object would devour,
This taſte the Honey, and not wound the Flower.
Pleaſure, or wrong or rightly underſtood,
Our greateſt Evil, or our greateſt Good.
Modes of Self-Love, the Paſſions we may call;
'Tis real Good, or ſeeming, moves them all:
But ſince not every Good we can divide,
And Reaſon bids us for our own provide;
[19] Paſſions tho' ſelfiſh, if their Means be fair,
Liſt under Reaſon, and deſerve her Care:
Thoſe that imparted, court a nobler Aim,
Exalt their Kind, and take ſome Virtue's Name.
In lazy Apathy let Stoics boaſt
Their Virtue fix'd, 'tis fix'd as in a Froſt,
Contracted all, retiring to the Breaſt;
But Strength of Mind is Exerciſe, not Reſt:
The riſing Tempeſt puts in act the Soul,
Parts it may raviſh, but preſerves the whole.
On Life's vaſt Ocean diverſely we ſail.
Reaſon the Card, but Paſſion is the Gale:
Nor GOD alone in the ſtill Calm we find;
He mounts the Storm, and walks upon the Wind.
Paſſions, like Elements, tho' born to fight,
Yet mix'd and ſoften'd, in His Work unite:
Theſe, 'tis enough to temper and employ,
But what compoſes Man, can Man deſtroy.
Suffice that Reaſon keep to Nature's Road,
Subject, compound them, follow her, and God.
Love, Hope, and Joy, fair Pleaſure's ſmiling Train,
Hate, Fear, and Grief, the Family of Pain;
Theſe mix'd with Art, and to due Bounds confin'd,
Make, and maintain, the Balance of the Mind:
The Lights and Shades, whoſe well accorded Strife
Gives all the Strength and Colour of our Life.
[4]
Pleaſures are ever in our Hands or Eyes,
And when in Act they ceaſe, in Proſpect riſe;
Preſent to graſp, and future ſtill to find,
The whole Employ of Body and of Mind.
All ſpread their Charms, but charm not all alike;
On diff'rent Senſes diff'rent Objects ſtrike:
Hence diff'rent Paſſions more or leſs inflame,
As ſtrong or weak, the Organs of the Frame;
And hence one Maſter Paſſion, in the Breaſt,
Like Aaron's Serpent, ſwallows up the reſt.
As Man perhaps, the moment of his Breath,
Receives the lurking Principle of Death,
The young Diſeaſe that muſt ſubdue at length,
Grows with his growth, and ſtrengthens with his ſtrength:
So, caſt and mingled with his very Frame,
The Mind's Diſeaſe, its ruling Paſſion came:
Each vital Humour which ſhould feed the whole,
Soon flows to this, in Body and in Soul;
Whatever warms the Heart, or fills the Head,
As the Mind opens, and its Functions ſpread,
Imagination plies her dang'rous Art,
And pours it all upon the peccant Part.
Nature its Mother, Habit is its Nurſe;
Wit, Spirit, Faculties, but make it worſe;
Reaſon itſelf but gives it Edge and Pow'r,
As Heav'ns bleſt Beam turns Vinegar more ſow'r;
[5] We, wretched Subjects, tho' to lawful Sway,
In this weak Queen, ſome Fav'rite ſtill obey.
Ah! if ſhe lend not Arms, as well as Rules,
What can ſhe more than tell us, we are Fools?
Teach us to mourn our Nature, not to mend,
A ſharp Accuſer, but a helpleſs Friend!
Or from a Judge turn Pleader to perſuade
The Choice we make, or juſtify it made;
Proud of an eaſy Conqueſt all along,
She but removes weak Paſſions for the ſtrong;
So, when ſmall Humours gather to a Gout,
The Doctor fancies he has driv'n 'em out.
Yes: Nature's Road muſt ever be prefer'd;
Reaſon is here no Guide, but ſtill a Guard;
'Tis her's to rectify, not overthrow,
And treat this Paſſion more as Friend than Foe:
Like varying Winds, by other Paſſions toſt,
This drives them conſtant to a certain Coaſt.
Let Pow'r, or Knowledge, Gold, or Glory, pleaſe,
Or (oft more ſtrong than all) the Love of Eaſe:
Thro' Life 'tis follow'd, ev'n at Life's Expence;
The Merchant's Toil, the Sage's Indolence,
The Monk's Humility, the Hero's Pride,
And all alike, find Reaſon on their ſide.
Th' Eternal Art, educing Good from Ill,
Grafts on this Paſſion our beſt Principle:
'Tis thus, the Mercury of Man is fix'd,
Strong grows the Virtue with his Nature mix'd;
[22] The Droſs cements what elſe were too refin'd,
And in one Int'reſt Body acts with Mind.
As Fruits ungrateful to the Planter's Care
On ſavage Stocks inſerted, learn to bear;
The ſureſt Virtues thus from Paſſions ſhoot,
Wild Nature's Vigour working at the Root.
What Crops of Wit and Honeſty appear,
From Spleen, from Obſtinacy, Hate or Fear!
See Anger, Zeal and Fortitude ſupply;
Ev'n Av'rice, Prudence; Sloth, Philoſophy;
Envy, to which th' ignoble Mind's a Slave,
Is Emulation in the Learn'd or Brave:
Nor Virtue, Male or Female, can we name,
But what or grows on Pride, or grows on Shame.
Thus Nature gives us (let it check our Pride)
The Virtue neareſt to our Vice ally'd;
Reaſon the Byaſs turns to Good from Ill.
And Nero reigns a Titus, if he will.
The fiery Soul abhorr'd in Cataline,
In Decius charms, in Curtius is divine.
The ſame Ambition can deſtroy or ſave,
And makes a Patriot, as it makes a Knave.
This Light and Darkneſs in our Chaos join'd,
What ſhall divide? The God within the Mind
Tho' each by turns the other's bound invade,
As in ſome well-wrought Picture Light and Shade,
[23] And oft ſo mix, the Diff'rence is too nice
Where ends the Virtue or begins the Vice:
Fools! who from hence into the Notion fall,
That Vice or Virtue there is none at all.
If white and black, blend, ſoften, and unite
A thouſand ways, is there no Black or White?
Ask your own Heart, and nothing is ſo plain;
'Tis to miſtake them, coſts the Time and Pain.
Vice is a Monſter of ſo frightful mien,
As, to be hated, needs but to be ſeen;
But ſeen too oft, familiar with her Face,
We firſt endure, then pity, then embrace.
A Cheat! a Whore! who ſtarts not at the Name,
In all the Inns of Court, or Drury Lane?
But where the Point 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,
But thinks his Neighbour further gone than he.
Ev'n thoſe who dwell beneath her very Zone,
Or never feel the Rage, or never own;
What happier Natures ſhrink at with Affright,
The hard Inhabitant contends is right.
Virtuous and vicious ev'ry Man muſt be,
Few in th' Extreme, but all in the Degree:
The Rogue and Fool by fits is fair and wiſe,
And ev'n the beſt by fits what they deſpiſe.
[24]
'Tis but by Parts we follow Good or Ill,
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 counterworks each Folly and Caprice;
That diſappoints th' Effect of ev'ry Vice,
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,
Which ſeeks no Int'reſt, no Reward but Praiſe.
And builds on Wants, and on Defects of Mind,
The Joy, the Peace, the Glory of Mankind.
Heav'n forming each on other to depend,
A Maſter, or a Servant, or a Friend,
Bids each on other for Aſſiſtance call,
Till one man's Weakneſs grows the Strength of all.
Wants, Frailties, Paſſions, cloſer ſtill allye
The common Int'reſt, or endear the Tye:
To theſe we owe true Friendſhip, Love ſincere,
Each home-felt Joy that Life inherits here!
Yet from the ſame we learn, in its decline,
Thoſe Joys, thoſe Loves, thoſe Int'reſts to reſign:
Taught half by Reaſon, half by mere Decay.
To welcome Death, and calmly paſs away.
Whate'er the Paſſion, Knowledge, Fame, or Pelf,
Not one will change his Neighbour with himſelf.
[25] The Learn'd are happy, Nature to explore;
The Fool is happy, that he knows no more,
The Rich are happy in the Plenty given:
The Poor contents him with the Care of Heaven.
See the blind Beggar dance, the Cripple ſing,
The Sot a Hero, Lunatic a King,
The ſtarving Chymiſt in his golden Views
Supreamly bleſt, the Poet in his Muſe.
See! ſome ſtrange Comfort ev'ry State attend.
And Pride beſtow'd on all, a common Friend;
See! ſome fit Paſſion ev'ry Age ſupply,
Hope travels thro', nor quits us when we die.
'Till then, Opinion gilds with varying rays
Thoſe painted Clouds that beautify our Days;
Each want of Happineſs by Hope ſupply'd,
And each Vacuity of Senſe by Pride.
Theſe build up all that Knowledge can deſtroy;
In Folly's Cup ſtill laughs the Bubble. Joy;
One Proſpect loſt, another ſtill we gain,
And not a Vanity is giv'n in vain;
Even mean Self-Love becomes, by Force divine,
The Scale to meaſure others Wants by thine.
See! and confeſs, one Comfort ſtill muſt riſe,
Tis this, tho' Man's a Fool, yet GOD is Wiſe.
The End of the Second EPISTLE
AN ESSAY on MAN. EPISTLE III. Of the Nature and State of Man with reſpect to Society.
[]The Whole Univerſe one Syſtem of Society, VER. 7, &c. No⯑thing is made wholly for itſelf, nor yet wholly for Another, 27. The Happineſs of Animals mutual, 53. Reaſon or In⯑ſtinct operate alike to the Good of each Individual, 83. Rea⯑ſon or Inſtinct operate to Society, in all Animals, 109. How far Society carry'd by Inſtinct, 119. How much farther by Reaſon, 131. Of that which is called the STATE of NA⯑TURE, 149. Reaſon inſtructed by Inſtinct in the Invention of Arts, 169. and in the Forms of Society, 179. Origin of Political Societies, 199. Origin of Monarchy 211. Patriar⯑chal Government, 215. Origin of True Religion and Govern⯑ment; from the ſame Principle, of Love, 226, &c. Origin of Superſtition and Tyranny; from the ſame Principle, of Fear, 241, &c. The Influence of Self-Love operating to the Social and Publick Good, 269. Reſtoration of true Religion and Go⯑vernment on their firſt Principle, 285. Mixt Government, 289. Various Forms of each, and the True End of All, 303, &c.
LEARN Dulneſs, learn! "The Univerſal Cauſe
"Acts to one End, but acts by various Laws."
In all the Madneſs of ſuperfluous Health,
The Trim of Pride, and Impudence of Wealth,
[27] Let that great Truth be preſent Night and Day;
But moſt be preſent, if thou preach, or pray.
View thy own World: Behold the Chain of Love
Combining all below, and all above.
See, lifeleſs Matter moving to one End,
The ſingle Atoms each to other tend,
Attract, attracted to, the next in place,
By Nature form'd its Neighbour to embrace.
Behold it next, with various Life endu'd,
Preſs to one Centre ſtill, the Gen'ral Good.
See dying Vegetables Life ſuſtain,
See Life diſſolving vegetate again.
All Forms that periſh other Forms ſupply,
By turns they catch the vital Breath, and die;
Like Bubbles on the Sea of Matter borne,
They riſe, they break, and to that Sea return.
Nothing is foreign: Parts relate to Whole:
One All-extending, All-preſerving Soul
Connects all Being, greateſt with the leaſt;
Made Beaſt in aid of Man, and Man of Beaſt:
Each ſerv'd, and ſerving; nothing ſtands alone;
The Chain holds on, and where it ends, unknown!
Has God, thou Fool! work'd ſolely for thy Good,
Thy Joy, thy Paſtime, thy Attire, thy Food?
Who for thy Table ſeeds the wanton Fawn,
For him, as kindly, ſpreads the flow'ry Lawn.
Is it for thee the Lark aſcends and fings?
Joy tunes his Voice, Joy elevates his Wings:
[28] Is it for thee the Linnet pours his Throat?
Loves of his own, and Raptures ſwell the Note.
The bounding Steed you pompouſly beſtride,
Shares with his Lord the Pleaſure and the Pride.
Is thine alone the Seed that ſtrows the Plain?
The Birds of Heav'n ſhall vindicate their Grain.
Thine the full Harveſt of the Golden Year?
Part pays, and juſtly, the deſerving Steer.
The Hog that plows not, nor obeys thy Call,
Lives on the Labours of this Lord of All.
Know, Nature's Children all divide her Care;
The Furr that warms a Monarch, warm'd a Bear.
While Man exclaims, ſee all things for my Uſe!
See Man for mine, replies a pamper'd Gooſe:
What care to tend, to lodge, to cram, to treat him,
All this he knew; but not that 'twas to eat him.
As far as Gooſe could judge, he reaſon'd right:
But as to Man, miſtook the Matter quite:
And juſt as ſhort of Reaſon, Man will fall,
Who thinks All made for One, not One for All.
Grant, that the Pow'rful ſtill the Weak controul,
Be Man the Wit and Tyrant of the Whole:
NATURE that Tyrant checks; He only knows
And feels, another Creature's Wants and Woes.
Say, will the Falcon ſtooping from above,
Smit with her varying Plumage, ſpare the Dove?
[29] Admires the Jay the Inſect's gilded Wings,
Or hears the Hawk, when Philomela ſings?
Man cares for All: To Birds he gives his Woods,
To Beaſts his Paſtures, and to Fiſh his Floods,
For ſome, his Int'reſt prompts him to provide,
For more, his Pleaſure, yet for more his Pride:
All feed on one vain Patron, and enjoy
Th' extenſive Bleſſing of his Luxury.
That very Life his learned Hunger craves
He ſaves from Famine, from the Savage ſaves:
Nay, feaſts the animal he dooms his Feaſt,
And till he ends the Being, makes it bleſt.
The favour'd Man, by Touch ethereal ſlain,
Not leſs foreſees the Stroke, or feels the Pain.
The Creature had his Feaſt of Life before;
Thou too muſt periſh, when thy Feaſt is o'er!
To each unthinking Being Heav'n a Friend
Gives not the uſeleſs Knowledge of its End;
To Man imparts it; but with ſuch a View,
As while he dreads it, makes him hope it too.
The Hour conceal'd, and ſo remote the Fear,
Death ſtill draws nearer, never ſeeming near.
Great ſtanding Miracle! that Heav'n aſſign'd
Its only thinking Thing, this Turn of Mind.
Whether with Reaſon, or with Inſtinct bleſt,
Know, all enjoy that Pow'r which ſuits 'em beſt,
To Bliſs alike, by that Direction, tend,
And find the Means proportion'd to their End.
[30] Say, where full Inſtinct is th' unerring Guide,
What Pope or Council can they need beſide?
Reaſon, however able, cool at beſt,
Cares not for Service, or but ſerves when preſt;
Stays till we call, and then not often near;
But honeſt Inſtinct comes a Volunteer,
This too ſerves always, Reaſon never long;
One muſt go right, the other may go wrong.
See then the acting and comparing Pow'rs,
One in their Nature, which are two in ours;
And Reaſon raiſe o'er Inſtinct, as you can;
In this, 'tis God directs, in that, 'tis Man.
Who taught the Nations of the Field and Wood,
To ſhun their Poiſon, and to chuſe their Food?
Preſcient, the Tydes or Tempeſts to withſtand,
Build on the Wave, or arch beneath the Sand?
Who made the Spider Parallels deſign,
Sure as De-Moivre, without Rule or Line?
Who bid the Stork, Columbus-like explore
Heav'ns not his own, and Worlds unknown before?
Who calls the Council, ſtates the certain Day.
Who forms the Phalanx, and who points the Way?
GOD, in the Nature of each Being, founds
Its proper Bliſs, and ſets its proper Bounds:
But as he fram'd a Whole, the Whole to bleſs
On mutual Wants built mutual Happineſs:
So from the firſt, Eternal Order ran,
And Creature link'd to Creature, Man to Man.
[31] hate'er of Life all-quickening Aether keeps,
Or breathes thro' Air, or ſhoots beneath the Deeps,
Or pours profuſe on Earth; one Nature feeds
The vital Flame, and ſwells the genial Seeds.
Not Man alone, but all that roam the Wood,
Or wing the Sky, or roll along the Flood,
Each loves Itſelf, but not itſelf alone,
Each Sex deſires alike, till two or one:
Nor ends the Pleaſure with the fierce Embrace;
All love themſelves, a third time, in their Race.
The Beaſt, the Bird, their common Charge attend,
The Mothers nurſe it, and the Sires defend;
The young diſmiſs'd to wander Earth or Air,
There ſtops the Inſtinct, and there ends the Care,
The Link diſſolves, each ſeeks a freſh Embrace,
Another Love ſucceeds, another Race.
A longer Care Man's helpleſs Kind demands;
That longer Care contracts more laſting Bands:
Reflection, Reaſon, ſtill the Ties improve,
At once extend the Int'reſt, and the Love:
With Choice We fix, with Sympathy we burn,
Each Virtue in each Paſſion takes its turn;
And ſtill new Needs, new Helps, new Habits riſe,
That graft Benevolence on Charities,
From private Sparkles raiſe the gen'ral Flame,
And bid Self-Love and Social be the ſame.
Thus as one Brood, and as another roſe,
Theſe nat'ral Love maintain'd, habitual thoſe;
The laſt, ſcarce ripen'd into perfect Man,
Saw helpleſs him from whom their Life began:
[32] Mem'ry and Forecaſt juſt Returns engage,
That pointed back to Youth, this on to Age;
While Pleaſure, Gratitude and Hope, combin'd,
Still ſpread the Int'reſt, and preſerv'd the Kind.
Nor think in Nature's State they blindly trod;
The State of NATURE was the Reign of GOD:
Self-Love and Social at her Birth began,
UNION, the Bond of all Things, and of Man.
Pride then was not; nor Arts, that Pride to aid;
Man walk'd with Beaſt joint Tenant of the Shade;
The ſame his Table, and the ſame his Bed,
No Murder cloath'd him, and no Murder fed.
In the ſame Temple, the reſounding Wood,
All Vocal Beings hymn'd their equal God:
The Shrine with Gore unſtain'd, with Gold undreſt,
Unbrib'd, unbloody, ſtood the blameleſs Prieſt:
Heav'n's Attribute was univerſal Care,
And Man's Prerogative to rule, but ſpare.
Ah how unlike the Man of Times to come!
Of half that live, the Butcher, and the Tomb;
Who, Foe to Nature, hears the gen'ral Groan,
Murders their Species, and betrays his own.
But juſt Diſeaſe to Luxury ſucceeds,
And ev'ry Death its own Avenger breeds;
The Fury-Paſſions from that Blood began,
And turn'd on Man a fiercer Savage, Man.
See him from Nature riſing ſlow to Art?
To copy Inſtinct, then, was Reaſon's Part;
[33] Thus then to Man the Voice of Nature ſpake—
Go! from the Creatures thy Inſtructions take;
Learn from the Birds what Food the Thickets yield;
Learn from the Beaſts the Phyſick of the Field:
Thy Arts of Building from the Bee receive;
Learn of the Mole to plow, the Worm to weave;
Spread the thin Oar, and catch the driving Gale.
Here too all Forms of ſocial Union find,
And hence let Reaſon, late, inſtruct Mankind:
Here Subterranean Works and Cities ſee,
There Towns aereal on the waving Tree.
Learn each ſmall People's Genius, Policies;
The Ants Republic, and the Realm of Bees;
How thoſe in common all their Stores beſtow,
And Anarchy without Confuſion know,
And theſe for ever, tho' a Monarch reign,
Their ſep'rate Cells and Properties maintain.
Mark what unvary'd Laws preſerve their State,
Laws wiſe as Nature, and as fix'd as Fate.
In vain thy Reaſon finer Webs ſhall draw.
Entangle Juſtice in her Net of Law,
And Right too rigid harden into Wrong,
Still for the Strong too weak, the Weak too ſtrong.
Yet Go! and thus o'er all the Creatures ſway,
Thus let the Wiſer make the reſt obey,
Who for thoſe Arts they learnt of Brutes before,
As Kings ſhall crown them, or as Gods adore.
[34]
Great Nature ſpoke; obſervant Men obey'd;
Cities were built, Societies were made:
Here roſe one little State: Another near
Grew by like means, and join'd, thro' Love or Fear.
Did here the Trees with ruddier Burdens bend,
And there the Streams in purer Rills deſcend?
What War could raviſh, Commerce could beſtow,
And he return'd a Friend, who came a Foe.
Thus States were form'd, the Name of King unknown,
'Till common Int'reſt plac'd the Sway in One.
Then VIRTUE ONLY (or in Arts or Arms,
Diffuſing Bleſſings, or averting Harms)
The ſame which in a Sire the Sons obey'd,
A Prince the Father of a People made.
'Till then, by Nature crown'd, each Patriarch ſate
King, Prieſt, and Parent of his growing State:
On him, their ſecond Providence they hung,
Their Law, his Eye; their Oracle, his Tongue.
He, from the wond'ring Furrow call'd their Food,
Taught to command the Fire, controul the Flood,
Draw forth the Monſters of th' Abyſs profound,
Or fetch th' Aereal Eagle to the Ground.
'Till drooping, ſick'ning, dying, they began
Whom they rever'd as God, to mourn as Man.
Then, looking up from Sire to Sire, explor'd
One Great, Firſt Father, and that firſt ador'd.
Or plain Tradition, that this All begun,
Convey'd unbroken Faith from Sire to Son,
[35] The Workman from the Work diſtinct was known,
And ſimple Reaſon never ſought but One:
Ere Wit oblique had broke that ſteady Light,
Man, like his Maker, ſaw, that all was right,
To Virtue in the Paths of Pleaſure trod,
And own'd a Father, when he own'd a God.
LOVE all the Faith, and all th' Allegiance then;
For Nature knew no Right Divine in Men,
No Ill could fear in God; and underſtood
A Sov'reign Being but a Sov'reign Good.
True Faith, true Policy, united ran,
That was but Love of God, and this of Man.
Who firſt taught Souls enſlav'd, and Realms undone
Th' enormous Faith of Many made for One?
That proud Exception to all Nature's Laws,
T' invert the World, and counter-work its Cauſe?
Force firſt made Conqueſt, and that Conqueſt Law;
'Till Superſtition taught the Tyrant Awe,
Then ſhar'd the Tyranny, and lent it Aid,
And Gods of Conqu'rors, Slaves of Subjects made:
She, 'midſt the Lightning's Blaze, and Thunder's Sound
When rock'd the Mountains, and when groan'd the Ground.
She taught the Weak to bend, the Proud to pray
To Pow'r unſeen, and mightier far than they.
She, from the rending Earth and burſting Skies,
Saw Gods deſcend, and Fiends infernal riſe,
Here fix'd the dreadful, there the bleſt Abodes;
Fear made her Devils, and weak Hope her Gods:
[36] Gods partial, changeful, paſſionate, unjuſt,
Whoſe Attributes were Rage, Revenge, or Luſt:
Such as the Souls of Cowards might conceive,
And form'd like Tyrants, Tyrants would believe.
Zeal then, not Charity, became the Guide,
And Hell was built on Spite, and Heav'n on Pride.
Then ſacred ſeem'd th' ethereal Vault no more;
Altars grew Marble then, and reek'd with Gore:
Then firſt the Flamen taſted living Food;
Next his grim Idol ſmear'd with human Blood;
With Heav'n's own Thunder ſhook the World below,
And play'd the God an Engine on his Foe.
So drives Self-Love, thro' Juſt, and thro' Unjuſt,
To One Man's Pow'r, Ambition, Lucre, Luſt:
The ſame Self-Love, in All, becomes the Cauſe
Of what reſtrains him, Government and Laws.
For what one likes, if others like as well,
What ſerves one Will when many Wills rebel?
How ſhall he keep, what ſleeping or awake
A Weaker may ſurpriſe, a ſtronger take?
His Safety muſt his Liberty reſtrain;
All join to guard what each deſires to gain.
Forc'd into Virtue thus by Self-Defence,
Ev'n Kings learn'd Juſtice and Benevolence:
Self-Love forſook the Path it firſt purſu'd,
And found the private in the publick Good.
'Twas then, the ſtudious Head or gen'rous Mind,
Follow'r of God, or Friend of Humankind,
[37] Poet or Patriot, roſe, but to reſtore
The Faith and Moral Nature gave before;
Re-lum'd her ancient Light, not kindled new;
If not God's Image, yet his Shadow drew;
Taught Pow'r's due Uſe to People and to Kings,
Taught, not to ſlack, nor ſtrain, its tender ſtrings;
The Leſs, and Greater, ſet ſo juſtly true,
That touching one, muſt ſtrike the other too,
And jarring Int'reſts of themſelves create
Th' according Muſick of a well-mix'd State.
Such is the WORLD's great Harmony, that ſprings
From Union, Order, full Conſent of Things!
Where Small and Great, where Weak and Mighty, made
To ſerve, not ſuffer, ſtrengthen, not invade,
More pow'rful each, as needful to the reſt,
And in Proportion as it bleſſes, bleſt;
Draw to one Point, and to one Centre bring
Beaſt, Man, or Angel, Servant, Lord, or King.
For Forms of Government let Fools conteſt;
Whate'er is beſt adminiſtred, is beſt:
For Modes of Faith let graceleſs Zealots fight;
His can't be wrong whoſe Life is in the right.
All muſt be falſe, that thwart this One Great End,
And all of God, that bleſs Mankind, or mend.
Man, like the gen'rous Vine, ſupported lives,
The Strength he gains is from th' Embrace he gives.
On their own Axis as the Planets run,
Yet make at once their Circle round the Sun:
[38] So two conſiſtent Motions act the Soul,
And one regards Itſelf, and one the Whole.
Thus God and Nature link'd the gen'ral Frame,
And bade Self-Love and Social be the ſame.
The End of the Third EPISTLE.
AN ESSAY on MAN. EPISTLE IV. Of the Nature and State of Man with reſpect to Happineſs.
[]Happineſs ill defin'd by the Philoſophers, VER. 19. That it is the End of all Men, and attainable by all, 28 God governs by general, not particular Laws: Intends Happineſs to be equal, and to be ſo, it muſt be ſocial, ſince all particular Happineſs depends on general, 35. As it is neceſſary for Order, and the Peace and Welfare of Society, that External Goods ſhould be unequal. Happineſs is not made to conſiſt in theſe, 47. But, notwithſtanding that Inequality, the Balance of Happineſs a⯑mong Mankind is kept even by Providence, by the two Paſſions of Hope and Fear. 66. What the Happineſs of Individuals is? as far as is conſiſtent with the Conſtitution of this World. 76. That the good Man has here the Advantage, 80. The Error of imputing to Virtue what are only the Calamities of Nature, or of Fortune, 92. The Folly of expecting that God ſhould alter his general Laws in favour of Particulars, 118. That we are not Judges who are good? but that whoever they are, they muſt be happieſt, 130, &c. That external Goods are not the proper Rewards, often inconſiſtent with, or deſtructive of Vir⯑tue, 166. But that even theſe can make no Man happy without Virtue. Inſtanced in Riches, 176. Honours, 184. Birth, 203. Greatneſs, 213. Fame, 233. Superior Talents, 257. with Pictures of human Infelicity in Men poſſeſs'd of them all, 275. &c. That VIRTUR ONLY conſtitutes a Happineſs, whoſe Object is univerſal, 311. and whoſe Proſpect eternal, 345. The Perfection of which conſiſts in a Conformity to the Order of Providence, here, and in a Reſignation to it, here and hereaf⯑ter, 534. Or (in other Words) in Love of God, and Charity to all Men. &c to the End.
[40]O Happineſs! our Being's End and Aim!
Good, Pleaſure, Eaſe, Content! whate'er thy name:
That Something ſtill, which prompts th'eternal ſigh,
For which we bear to live, nor fear to die;
Which ſtill ſo near us, yet beyond us lies,
O'erlook'd, ſeen double, by the fool—and wiſe.
Plant of celeſtial ſeed! if dropt below,
Say, in what mortal ſoil thou deign'ſt to grow?
Fair-opening to ſome Court's propitious Shine,
Or deep with diamonds in the flaming Mine,
Twin'd with the Wreaths Parnaſſian Laurels yield,
Or reap'd in Iron Harveſts of the field?
Where grows—where grows it not?—If vain our toil,
We ought to blame the Culture, not the Soil:
Fix'd to no ſpot is Happineſs ſincere;
'Tis no where to be found, or ev'ry where;
'Tis never to be bought, but always free,
And fled from Monarchs, Laelius! dwells with thee.
Ask of the Learn'd the Way, the Learn'd are blind.
This bids to ſerve, and that to ſhun Mankind:
Some place the bliſs in Action, ſome in Eaſe,
Thoſe call it Pleaſure, and Contentment theſe:
Who thus define it, ſay they more or leſs
Than this, that Happineſs is Happineſs?
One grants his Pleaſure is but Reſt from Pain;
One doubts of All, one owns ev'n Virtue vain.
[41]
Take Nature's path, and mad Opinions leave,
All States can reach it, and all Heads conceive;
Obvious her Goods, in no Extreme they dwell,
There needs but thinking right, and meaning well,
And mourn our various Portions as we pleaſe,
Equal is common Senſe, and common Eaſe.
Remember Man! "the Univerſal Cauſe
"Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral Laws;"
And makes what Happineſs we juſtly call,
Subſiſt not in the Good of one, but all.
There's not a Bleſſing Individuals find,
But ſome way leans and hearkens to the Kind.
No Bandit fierce, no Tyrant mad with Pride,
No cavern'd Hermit, reſt ſelf-ſatisfy'd;
Who moſt to ſhun or hate Mankind pretend,
Seek an Admirer, or wou'd fix a Friend.
Abſtract what others feel, what others think,
All Pleaſures ſicken, and all Glories ſink;
Each has his Share, and who wou'd more obtain
Shall find, the Pleaſure pays not half the Pain.
ORDER is Heav'n's firſt Law; and this confeſt,
Some are, and muſt be, greater than the reſt,
More rich, more wiſe: but who infers from hence,
That ſuch are happier, ſhocks all common Senſe.
Heav'n to Mankind impartial we confeſs,
If all are equal in their Happineſs:
[42] But mutual Wants this Happineſs increaſe,
All Nature's Diff'rence keeps all Nature's Peace.
Condition, Circumſtance is not the thing:
Bliſs is the ſame, in Subject or in King;
In who obtain Defence, or who defend;
In him who is, or him who finds, a Friend.
Heav'n breathes thro' ev'ry Member of the whole
One common Bleſſing, as one common Soul:
But Fortune's Gifts if each alike poſſeſt,
And each were equal, muſt not all conteſt?
If then to all Men Happineſs was meant,
God in Externals could not place Content.
Fortune her Gifts may variouſly diſpoſe,
And theſe be call'd unhappy, happy thoſe;
But Heav'n's juſt Balance equal will appear,
While thoſe are plac'd in Hope, and theſe in Fear:
Not preſent Good or Ill, the Joy or Curſe,
But future Views of better, or of worſe.
Oh Sons of Earth! attempt ye ſtill to riſe
By Mountains pil'd on Mountains, to the Skies?
Heav'n ſtill with Laughter the vain Toil ſurveys,
And buries Madmen in the Heaps they raiſe.
Know, all the Good that Individuals find,
Or God and Nature meant to meer Mankind,
Reaſon's whole Pleaſures, all the Joys of Senſe,
Lie in three Words, Health, Peace, and Competence.
[43] But Health conſiſts with Temperance alone,
And Peace, fair Virtue! Peace is all thy own;
The Gifts of Fortune good or bad may gain;
But theſe leſs taſte them, as they worſe obtain.
Say, in Purſuit of Profit or Delight,
Who riſque the moſt, that take wrong means, or right?
Of Vice or Virtue, whether bleſt or curſt,
Which meets Contempt, or which Compaſſion firſt?
Count all th'Advantage proſp'rous Vice attains,
'Tis but what Virtue flies from, and diſdains;
And grant the bad what Happineſs they wou'd,
One they muſt want, which is, to paſs for good.
Oh blind to Truth, and God's whole Scheme below!
Who fancy Bliſs to Vice, to Virtue Woe:
Who ſees and follows that great Scheme the beſt,
Beſt knows his Bleſſing, and will moſt be bleſt.
But Fools the Good alone unhappy call,
For Ills or Accidents that chance to All.
See Falkland falls, the virtuous and the juſt!
See godlike Turenne proſtrate on the Duſt!
See Sidney bleeds amid the martial Strife!
Was this their Virtue, or Contempt of Life?
Say was it Virtue, more tho' Heav'n ne'er gave,
Lamented Digby ſunk thee to the Grave?
Tell me if Virtue made the Son expire,
Why, full of Days and Honour, lives the Sire?
Why drew Marſeilles good Biſhop purer Breath,
When Nature ſicken'd, and each Gale was Death?
[44] Or why ſo long (in Life if long can be)
Lent Heav'n a Parent to the Poor and me?
What makes all Phyſical or Moral Ill?
There deviates Nature, and here wanders Will.
Gods ſends not Ill, 'tis Nature lets it fall
Or Chance eſcape, and Man improves it all.
We juſt as wiſely might of Heav'n complain,
That righteous Abel was deſtroy'd by Cain,
As that the virtuous Son is ill at Eaſe,
When his lewd Father gave the dire Diſeaſe.
Think we, like ſome weak Prince, th'Eternal Cauſe,
Prone for his Fav'rites to reverſe his Laws?
Shall burning Aetna, if a Sage requires,
Forget to thunder, and recal her Fires?
On Air or Sea new Motions be impreſt,
O blameleſs Bethel! to relieve thy Breaſt?
When the looſe Mountain trembles from on high,
Shall Gravitation ceaſe, if you go by?
Or ſome old Temple nodding to its Fall,
For Chartres head reſerve the hanging Wall?
But ſtill this World (ſo fitted for the Knave)
Contents us not. A better ſhall we have?
A Kingdom of the Juſt then let it be:
But firſt conſider how thoſe Juſt agree?
The Good muſt merit God's peculiar Care;
But who but God can tell us, who they are?
[45] One thinks on Calvin Heav'n's own Spirit fell,
Another deems him Inſtrument of Hell;
If Calvin feel Heav'n's Bleſſing, or its Rod,
This cries there is, and that, there is no God.
What ſhocks one part will edify the reſt,
Nor with one Syſtem can they all be bleſt.
Give each a Syſtem, all muſt be at Strife;
What diff'rent Syſtems for a Man and Wife?
The very beſt will variouſly incline,
And what rewards your Virtue, puniſh mine.
"Whatever is, is right."—This World, 'tis true,
Was made for Caeſar—but for Titus too:
And which more bleſt? who chain'd his Country, ſay,
Or he, whoſe Virtue ſigh'd to loſe a Day?
"But ſometimes Virtue ſtarves while Vice is fed."
What then? is the Reward of Virtue, Bread?
That, Vice may merit; 'tis the Price of Toil:
The Knave deſerves it when he tills the Soil;
The Knave deſerves it when he tempts the Main,
Where Madneſs fights, for Tyrants, or for Gain.
The good Man may be weak, be indolent,
Nor is his Claim to Plenty, but Content.
But grant him Riches, your Demand is o'er?
"No—ſhall the Good want Health, the Good want Pow'r?
Add Health to Pow'r, and every earthly thing:
"Why bounded Pow'r? why private? why no King?
Nay, why external for internal giv'n,
Why is not Man a God, and Earth a Heav'n?
[46] Who ask and reaſon thus, will ſearce conceive
God gives enough while he has more to give:
Immenſe the Pow'r, immenſe were the Demand;
Say, at what Part of Nature will they ſtand?
What nothing earthly gives, or can deſtroy,
The Soul's calm Sun-ſhine, and the heart-felt Joy,
Is Virtue's Prize: A better would you fix,
And give Humility a Coach and Six?
Juſtice a Conqu'ror's Sword, or Truth a Gown,
Or publick Spirit, its great Cure, a Crown?
Rewards that either would to Virtue bring
No Joy, or be deſtructive of the Thing.
How oft by theſe at ſixty are undone
The Virtues of a Saint at twenty-one!
For Riches, can they give but to the Juſt,
His own Contentment, or another's Truſt?
Judges and Senates have been bought for Gold,
Eſteem and Love were never to be ſold.
O Fool! to think, God hates the worthy Mind,
The Lover, and the Love, of human Kind,
Whoſe Life is healthful, and whoſe Conſcience clear;
Becauſe he wants a thouſand Pounds a Year!
Honour and Shame from no Condition riſe;
Act well your Part, there all the Honour lies.
Fortune in Men has ſome ſmall Diff'rence made,
One flaunts in Rags, one flutters in Brocade,
[47] The Cobler apron'd, and the Parſon gown'd,
The Fryar hooded, and the Monarch crown'd.
"What differ more (you cry) than Crown and Cowl?"
I'll tell you, Friend: a wiſe Man and a Fool.
You'll find, if once the Monarch acts the Monk,
Or Cobler-like the Parſon will be drunk,
Worth makes the Man, and want of it the Fellow,
The reſt is all but Leather or Prunello.
Stuck o'er with Titles, and hung round with Strings,
That thou may'ſt be, by Kings, or Whores of Kings.
Thy boaſted Blood, a thouſand Years or ſo,
May from Lucretia to Lucretia flow;
But by your Father's Worth, if your's you rate,
Count me thoſe only who were good and great.
Go! if your ancient but ignoble Blood
Has crept thro' Scoundrels ever ſince the Flood,
Go! and pretend your Family is young;
Not own your Fathers have been Fools ſo long.
What can enoble Sots, or Slaves, or Cowards?
Alas! not all the Blood of all the Howards.
Look next on Greatneſs, ſay where Greatneſs lies?
"Where, but among the Heroes and the Wiſe?"
Heroes are much the ſame, the Point's agreed,
From Macedonia's Madman to the Swede;
The whole ſtrange Purpoſe of their Lives, to find
Or make, an Enemy of all Mankind:
Not one looks backward, onward ſtill he goes,
Yet ne'er looks forward further than his Noſe.
[48] No leſs alike the Politick and Wiſe,
All fly ſlow things, with circumſpective Eyes;
Men in their looſe unguarded Hours they take,
Nor that themſelves are wiſe, but others weak.
But grant that thoſe can conquer, theſe can cheat,
'Tis Phraſe abſurd to call a Villain great.
Who wickedly is wiſe, or madly brave,
Is but the more a Fool, the more a Knave.
Who noble ends, by noble Means obtains,
Or failing, ſmiles in Exile or in Chains,
Like good Aurelius let him reign, or bleed
Like Socrates, that Man is great indeed.
What's Fame? that fancy'd Life in others Breath!
A thing beyond us ev'n before our Death.
Juſt what you hear you have, and what's unknown;
The ſame (my Lord) if Tully's or your own.
All that we feel of it begins and ends
In the ſmall Circle of our Foes or Friends;
To all beſide, as much an empty Shade
An Eugene living, as a Caeſar dead,
Alike, or when or where, they ſhone or ſhine
Or on the Rubicon, or on the Rhine.
A Wit's a Feather, and a Chief a Rod;
An honeſt Man's the nobleſt Work of God:
Fame but from Death a Villain's Name can ſave,
As Juſtice tears his Body from the Grave;
When what t' Oblivion better were reſign'd,
Is hung on high, to poiſon half Mankind.
[49] All Fame is foreign, but of true Deſert,
Plays round the Head, but comes not to the Heart.
One ſelf-approving Hour whole Years out-weighs
Of ſtupid Starers, and of loud Huzza's;
And more true Joy Marcellus exil'd feels
Than Caeſar with a Senate at his Heels.
In Parts ſuperior what Advantage lies!
Tell (for You can) what is it to be wiſe?
'Tis but to know, how little can be known,
To ſee all others Faults, and feel our own;
Condemn'd in Buſineſs, or in Arts to drudge
Without a Second, or without a Judge:
Truths would you teach, or ſave a ſinking Land?
All fear, none aid you, and few underſtand.
Painful Preheminence! yourſelf to view
Above Life's Weakneſs, and its Comforts too.
Bring then theſe Bleſſings to a ſtrict Account,
Make fair Deductions, ſee to what they mount?
How much of other each is ſure to coſt?
How each for other oft is wholly loſt?
How inconſiſtent greater Goods with theſe?
How ſometimes Life is riſqu'd, and always Eaſe?
Think, and if ſtill the Things thy Envy call,
Say, would'ſt thou be the Man to whom they fall?
To ſigh for Ribbands if thou art ſo ſilly,
Mark how they grace Lord Umbra, or Sir Billy.
Is yellow Dirt the Paſſion of thy Life?
Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' Wife.
[50] If Parts allure thee, think how Bacon ſhin'd,
The wiſeſt, brighteſt, meaneſt of Mankind:
Or raviſh'd with the whiſtling of a Name,
See Cromwell damn'd to everlaſting Fame!
If all, united, thy Ambition call,
From ancient Story learn to ſcorn them all.
There, in the rich, the honour'd, fam'd, and great,
See the falſe Scale of Happineſs compleat!
In Hearts of Kings or Arms of Queens who lay,
(How happy!) thoſe to Ruin, theſe betray,
Mark by what wretched Steps their Glory grows,
From Dirt and Sea-weed as proud Venice roſe;
In each, how Guilt and Greatneſs equal ran,
And all that rais'd the Hero ſunk the Man.
Now Europe's Lawrels on their Brows behold,
But ſtain'd with Blood, or ill exchang'd for Gold:
Then ſee them broke with Toils, or loſt in Eaſe,
Or infamous for plunder'd Provinces.
Oh Wealth ill-fated! which no Act of Fame
E'er taught to ſhine, or ſanctify'd from Shame!
What greater Bliſs attends their Cloſe of Life?
Some greedy Minion, or imperious Wife,
The trophy'd Arches, ſtory'd Halls invade,
And haunt their Slumbers in their pompous Shade.
Alas! not dazled with their Noontide Ray,
Compute the Morn and Evening to the Day:
The whole Amount of that enormous Fame
A Tale! that blends their Glory with their Shame!
[51]
Know then this Truth (enough for Man to know)
Virtue alone is Happineſs below:
The only Point where human Bliſs ſtands ſtill,
And taſtes the Good without the Fall to Ill;
Where only, Merit conſtant Pay receives,
Is bleſs'd in what it takes, and what it gives:
The Joy unequal'd, if its End it gain,
And if it loſe, attended with no Pain:
Without Satiety, tho' e'er ſo bleſs'd,
And but more reliſh'd as the more diſtreſs'd:
The broadeſt Mirth unfeeling Folly wears,
Leſs pleaſing far than Virtue's very Tears.
Good, from each Object, from each Place acquir'd,
For ever exercis'd, yet never tir'd;
Never elated, while one Man's oppreſs'd,
Never dejected, while another's bleſs'd;
And where no Wants, no Wiſhes can remain,
Since but to wiſh more Virtue, is to gain.
See! the ſole Bliſs Heav'n could on all beſtow,
Which who but feels, can taſte, but thinks, can know:
Yet poor with Fortune, and with Learning blind,
The Bad muſt miſs, the Good untaught will find,
Slave to no Sect, who takes no private Road,
But looks thro' Nature up to Nature's GOD,
Purſues that Chain which links th' immenſe Deſign,
Joyns Heav'n, and Earth, and mortal, and divine;
Sees, that no Being any Bliſs can know
But touches ſome above, and ſome below;
[52] Learns, from this Union of the riſing Whole,
The firſt, laſt Purpoſe of the human Soul;
And knows, where Faith, Law, Morals all began,
All end in Love of God, and Love of Man.
For him alone Hope leads from Gole to Gole,
And opens ſtill, and opens, on his Soul,
'Till lengthen'd on to Faith, and unconfin'd,
It pours the Bliſs that fills up all the Mind.
He ſees, why Nature plants in Man alone
Hope of known Bliſs, and Faith in Bliſs unknown?
(Nature, whoſe Dictates to no other Kind
Are given in vain, but what they ſeek they find)
Wiſe is the Preſent: ſhe connects in this
His greateſt Virtue with his greateſt Bliſs,
At once his own bright Proſpect to be bleſt,
And ſtrongeſt Motive to aſſiſt the reſt.
Self-Love thus puſh'd to Social, to Divine,
Gives thee to make thy Neighbour's Bleſſing thine:
Is this too little for the boundleſs Heart?
Extend it, let thy Enemies have Part:
Graſp the whole Worlds, of Reaſon, Life, and Senſe,
In one cloſe Syſtem of Benevolence.
Happier, as kinder! in whate'er Degree,
And Height of Bliſs but Height of CHARITY.
GOD loves from Whole to Parts: but human Soul
Muſt riſe from Individual to the Whole.
[53] Self-Love but ſerves the virtuous Mind to wake,
As the ſmall Pebble ſtirs the peaceful Lake,
The Centre mov'd, a Circle ſtrait ſucceeds,
Another ſtill, and ſtill another ſpreads;
Friend, Parent, Neighbour, firſt it will embrace,
His Country next, and next all human-Race.
Wide, and more wide, th' O'erflowings of the Mind
Take ev'ry Creature in, of ev'ry Kind;
Earth ſmiles around, with boundleſs Bounty bleſt,
And Heav'n beholds its Image in his Breaſt.
Come then, my Friend! my Genius come along,
Oh Maſter of the Poet, and the Song!
And while the Muſe now ſtoops, or now aſcends,
To Man's low Paſſions, or their glorious Ends,
Teach me like thee, in various Nature wiſe,
To fall with Dignity, with Temper riſe;
Form'd by thy Converſe, happily to ſteer
From grave to gay, from lively to ſevere:
Correct with Spirit, eloquent with Eaſe,
Intent to Reaſon, or polite to pleaſe,
O! while along the Stream of Time, thy Name
Expanded flies, and gathers all its Fame,
Say, ſhall my little Bark attendant ſail,
Purſue the Triumph, and partake the Gale?
And ſhall this Verſe to future Age pretend
Thou wert my Guide, Philoſopher, and Friend?
That urg'd by thee, I turn'd the tuneful Art
From Sounds to Things, from Fancy to the Heart?
[54] For Wit's falſe Mirror held up Nature's Light;
Shew'd erring Pride Whatever Is, is Right;
That Reaſon, Paſſion, anſwer one great Aim;
That true Self-Love and Social are the ſame;
That Virtue only makes our Bliſs below;
And all our Knowledge is, Ourſelves to know.
FINIS.
Notes
*
Vide Oppian. Halient. lib. 1.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2016). TEI. 5486 An essay on man In epistles to a friend. University of Oxford Text Archive. University of Oxford, License: Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License [http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/]. https://hdl.handle.net/11378/0000-0005-DF87-8