EP. IV. Look next on Greatnefs; fay where Greatness lies. "Where, but among the Heroes and the Wife !" Heroes are much the fame, the point's agreed,.. From Macedonia's madman to the Swede; The whole ftrange 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 nofe. Noclefs alike the Politic and Wife;
All fly flow things, with circumfpective eyes Men in their loofe unguarded hours they take, Not that themselves are wife, but others weak. But grant that thofe can conquer, thefe can cheat; Tis phrafe abfurd to call a Villain Great : Who wickedly is wife, or madly brave,, Is but the more a fool, the more a knave. Who noble ends by noble means obtains, Or failing, fmiles in exile or in chaius,.. Like good Aurelius let him reign, or bleed Like Socrates, that Man is great indeed.
What's Fame? a fancy'd life in others breath,
A thing beyond us, ev'n before our death.
Juft what you hear, you have, and what's unknown Phe fame (my Lord) if Tully's or your own; All that we feel of it begins and ends
In the fmall circle of our foes or friends
To all befide as much an empty; shade
An Eugene living, as a Cæfar dead;
Alike or when, or where, they fhone, or fhine, Or on the Rubicon, or on the Rhines
A Wit's a feather, and a Chief á rod;
An honeft Man's the nobleft work of God. Fame but from death a villain's name can fave, As Juftice tears his body from the When what t'oblivion better were refign'd, Is hung on high, to poifon half mankind.
All fame is foreign, but for true defert;
Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart:
One felf-approving hour whole years outweighs Of stupid ftarers, and of loud huzzas;
And more true joy. Marcellus exil'd feels, Than Cæfar with a Senate at his heels.
In Parts fuperior what advantage lies? Tell (for You can) what is it to be wife? "Tis but to know how little can be known; To fee all others faults, and feel our own; Condemn'd in bus nefs or in arts to drudge, Without a fecond, or without a judge: Truths would you teach, or fave a finking land? All fear, none aid you, and few understand. Painful Preheminence! yourfelf to view Above life's weakness, and its comforts too.
Bring then these bleffings to a ftrict account; Make fair deductions; fee to what they mount How much of other each is fure to coft; How each for other oft is wholly loft; How inconfiftent greater goods with thefe; How fometimes life is rifqu'd, and always cafe: Think, and if till the things thy envy call, Say, wouldst thou be the man to whom they fall? To figh for ribbands if thou art fo filly, Mark how they grace Lord Umbra, or Sir Billy. Is yellow dirt the paffion of thy life? Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' wife.. If parts allure thee, think how Bacon fhin'd, The wifeft, brighteft, meaneft of mankind: Or ravish'd with the whiftling, of a Name, See Cromwell, damn'd to everlafting fame! If all, united, thy ambition call,
From ancient story learn to fcorn them all. There, in the rich, the honour'd, fara'd and great, See, the falfe fcale of happiness complete! In hearts of Kings, or arms of Queens who lay, How happy thofe to ruin, thefe betray !. Mark by what wretched fteps their glory grows, From dirt. and fea-weed as proud Venice rofe, In each how guilt and greatnefs equal ran, And all that rais'd the Hero, funk the Man Now Europe's laurels on their brows behold,
But ftain'd with blood, or ill-exchang'd for gold,
Then fee them broke with toils, or funk in cafe, Or infamous for plunder'd provinces..
Oh wealth ill-fated! which no act of fame
E'er taught to fhine, or fanctified from fhame! ૩૦૦ What greater blifs attends their clofe of life? Some greedy minion, or imperious wife, The trophy'd arches, ftory'd halls invade, And haunt their flumbers in the pompous fhade. Alas! not dazzled with their noon-tide ray, Compute the morn and ev'ning to the day; The whole amount of that enormous fame, A Tale, that blends their glory with their fhame! Know then this truth (enough for man to know). Virtue alone is Happinefs below." 301
The only point where human blifs ftands ftill, And taites the good without the fall to ill;. Where only Merit, conftant pay receives, Is bleft in what it takes, and what it gives; The joy unequall'd, if its end it gain, And if it lofe, attended with no pain: Without fatiety, tho' e'er fo blefs'd,
And but more relifh'd as the more diftrefs'd: The broadeft mirth unfeeling folly wears,"
Lefs pleafing 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 opprefs'd;
Never dejected, while another's blefs'd;
And where, no wants, no wishes can remain,, Since but to with more Virtue, is to gain..
See the fole blifs Heav'n could on all beftow 4
Which who but feels can tafte, but thinks can know: Yet poor with fortune, and with learning blind,
The bad muft mifs; the good, uptaught, will find; 330 Slave to no fect, who takes no private road, But looks thro' Nature up to Nature's God; Purfues that Chain which links th' immenfe defign, Joins heav'n and earth, and mortal and divine; Sees that no Being any blifs can know, But touches fome above, and fome below;
Learns, from this union of the rifing Whole,
The first, laft purpose of the human foul;
And knows where Faith, Law, Morals, all began,
All end, in LoVE OF GOD, and LOVE OF MAN.
For him alone, Hope leads from goal to goal, And opens ftill, and opens on his foul;
'Till lengthen'd on to FAITH, and unconfin'd, It pours the blifs that fills up all the mind. He fees, why Nature plants in Man alone:
Hope of known blifs, and Faith in bliss unknown:
(Nature, whofe dictates to no other kind
Are giv'n in vain, but what they feek they find)
Wife is her prefent; fhe connects in this
His greatest Virtue with his greatest Bliss;
At once his own bright profpect to be bleft,
And strongest motive to affift the reft.
Self-love thus push'd to focial, to divine,
Gives thee to make thy neighbour's bleffing thine.! Is this too little for the boundless heart?
Extend it, let thy enemies have part:
Happier as kinder, in whate'er degree,
Grafp the whole worlds of Reason, Life, and Senfe, one clofe fyftem of Benevolence:
And height of Elifs but height of Charity.
God loves from Whole to Parts: but human foul
Muft rife from Individual to the Whole.
Self-love but ferves the virtuous mind to wake,
As the fmall pebble ftirs the peaceful lake;
The center mov'd, a circle ftraight fucceeds, Another ftill, and ftill another fpreads; Friend, parent, neighbour, faft 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 fmiles around, with boundless bounty bleft, And Heav'n beholds its image in his breast,
Come then, my Friend! my Genius! come along; Oh mafter of the poet and the fong!
And while the Mufe now ftoops, or now afcends, To Man's low paffions, or their glorious ends,
ESSAY ON MAN.
Teach me, like thee, in various nature wife, To fall with dignity, with temper rife; Form'd by thy converfe, happily to fteer From grave to gay, from lively to fevere; Correct with fpirit, eloquent with ease, Intent to reafon, or polite to please.
Oh! while along the ftream of Time thy Name
Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame;.
Say, fhall my little bark attendant fail,
Purfue the triumph, and partake the gale?
When statesmen, heroes, kings, in duft repofe, Whofe fons fhall blush their fathers were thy foes, Shall then this verfe to future age pretend Thou wert my guide, philofopher, and friend? That, urg'd by thee, I turn'd the tuneful art From founds to things, from fancy to the heart; For Wit's falfe mirror held up Nature's light; Shew'd erring Pride, WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT; That REASON, PASSION, anfwer one great aim; That true SELF-LOVE and SOCIAL are the fame; That VIRTUE only makes our Blifs below; And all our Knowledge is, OURSELVES TO KNOW.
DEO OPT. MAX.
ATHER of All! in ev'ry Age, In ev'ry Clime ador'd,
By Saint, by Savage, and by Sage, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord?
Thou Great First Caufe, leaft underfood:
Who all my Senfe confin'd
To know. but this, that Thou art Good, And that myfelf am blind';
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