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To just contempt, ye vain pretenders, fall;
The people's fable, and the fcorn of all.
Straight the black clarion sends a horrid found,
Loud laughs burst out, and bitter fcoffs fly round;
Whispers are heard, with taunts reviling loud,
And fcornful hiffes run thro' all the crowd.
Laft, those who boast of mighty mischiefs done,
Enflave their country, or ufurp a throne;
Or who their glory's dire foundation lay'd
On fov'reigns ruin'd, or on friends betray'd;
Calm thinking villains, whom no faith could fix,
Of crooked counfels and dark politics;
Of these a gloomy tribe furround the throne,
And beg to make th'immortal treafons known.
The trumpet roars, long flaky flames expire,
With fparks, that feem'd to fet the world on fire.
At the dread found pale mortals stood aghaft,
And startled nature trembled with the blaft.
This having heard and feen, fome pow'runknown
Straight chang'd the scene, and snatch'd me from
the throne.

Before my view appear'd a structure fair,
Its fite uncertain, if in earth or air;
With rapid motion turn'd the mansion round;
With ceafelefs noise the ringing walls refound;
Not lefs in number were the fpacious doors
Than leaves on trees, or fands upon the fhores;
Which still unfolded ftand, by night, by day,
Pervious to winds, and open ev'ry way.
As flames by nature to the fkies afcend,
As weighty bodies to the centre tend,
As to the fea returning rivers roll,
And the touch'd needle trembles to the pole;
Hither, as to their proper place, arife
All various founds from earth, and feas, and skies,
Or fpoke aloud, or whisper'd in the ear;
Nor ever filence, reft, or peace is here.
As on the fmooth expanse of crystal lakes
The finking ftone at firft a circle makes,
The trembling furface, by the motion stirr'd,
Spreads in a fecond circle, then a third;
Wide, and more wide, the floating rings advance,
Fill all the wat'ry plain, and to the margin dance:
Thus ev'ry voice and found, when firft they break,
On neighb'ring air a foft impreflion make;
Another ambient circle then they move;
That, in its turn, impels the next above;
Thro' undulating air the founds are fent,
And fpread o'er all the fluid element.

There various news I heard of love and ftrife,
Of peace and war, health, fickness, death, and life,
Of lofs and gain, of famine and of store,
Of storms at sea, and travels on the shore,
Of prodigies, and portents seen in air,
Of fires and plagues, and stars with blazing hair,
Of turns of fortune, changes in the state,
The falls of fav'rites, projects of the great,
Of old mifinanagements, taxations new:
All neither wholly falfe, nor wholly true.
Above, below, without, within, around,
Confus'd, unnumber'd multitudes are found,
Who país, repafs, advance, and glide away;
Hofts rais'd by fear, and phantoms of a day:

Aftrologers, that future fates forefhew,
Projectors, quacks, and lawyers not a few ;
And priefts, and party zealots, num'rous bands
With home-born lies, or tales from foreign lands;
Each talk'd aloud, or in fome fecret place;
And wild impatience star'd in ev'ry face.
The flying rumours gather'd as they roll'd,
Scarce any tale was fooner heard than told;
And all who told it added fomething new,
And all who heard it made enlargements too;
In ev'ry ear it fpread, on ev'ry tongue it grew.
Thus flying caft and weft, and north and fouth,
News travell'd with increafe from mouthto mouth.
So from a fpark, that kindled first by chance,
With gath'ring force the quick'ning flames ad-
Till to the clouds their curlingheads atpire,[vance;
And tow'rs and temples fink in floods of fire.

When thus ripe lies are to perfection fprung,
Full grown, and fit to grace a mortal tongue,
Thro' thousand vents, impatient, forth they flow,
And rush in millions on the world below;
Fame fits aloft, and points them out their courfe,
Their date determines, and prefcribes their force;
Some to remain, and fome to perish foon;
Or wane and wax alternate like the moon.
Around, a thousand winged wonders fly, [sky.
Born by the trumpet's blaft, and scatter'd thro' the

There, at one paffage, oft you might survey A lie and truth contending for the way; And long 'twas doubtful, both fo closely pent, Which firft fhould iffue thro' the narrow vent: At laft agreed, together out they fly, Infeparable now the truth and lye; The ftrict companions are for ever join'd, And this or that unmix'd, no mortal e'er shall find, While thus I ftood, intent to fee and hear, One came, methought, and whisper'd in my car: What could thus high thy rafh ambition raife? Art thou, fond youth, a candidate for praise ?

'Tis true, faid I, not void of hopes I came, For who fo fond as youthful bards of Fame? But few, alas! the cafual bleffing boast, So Hard to gain, fo eafy to be loft. How vain that fecond life in others breath, Th'eftate which wits inherit after death! Eafe, health, and life, for this they must refign (Unfure the tenure, but how vaft the fine!) The great man's curfe, without the gains, endure, Be envy'd, wretched, and be flatter'd, poor; All lucklefs wits their enemies profeft, And all fuccefsful, jealous friends at best. Nor Fame I flight, nor for her favours call; She comes unlook'd for, if the comes at all. But if the purchase costs so dear a price As foothing folly, or exalting vice: Oh! if the mufe muft flatter lawless fway, And follow ftill where fortune leads the way; Or if no bafis bears my rifing name, But the fall'n ruins of another's fame, Then teach me, Heav'n! to fcorn the guilty bays, Drive from my breast that wretched luft of praife, Unblemish'd let me live, or die unknown; Oh! grant an honest fame, or grant me none.

Imitation

§ 10. Imitation of Dr. Swift. POPE.

THE HAPPY LIFE OF A COUNTRY PARSON.

PARSON, thefe things in thy poffefling
Are better than the Bishop's bleffing.
A Wife that makes conferves; a Steed
That carries double when there's need:
October store, and best Virginia,
Tythe-Pig and Mortuary Guinea:
Gazettes fent gratis down, and frank'd,
For which thy patron's weekly thank'd;
A large Concordance, bound long fince;
Sermons to Charles the First when Prince:
A Chronicle of ancient standing;
A Chryfoftom to smooth thy band in.
The Polyglott-three parts,-my next,
Howbeit, likewife-now to my text.
Lo, here the Septuagint,—and Paul,
To fum the whole, the clofe of all.

He that has thefe, may pafs his life,
Drink with the 'Squire, and kifs his Wife;
On Sundays preach, and eat his fill;
And faft on Fridays-if he will:
Toaft Church and Queen, explain the News,
Talk with Churchwardens about pews,
Pray heartily for fome new Gift,
And thake his head at Doctor S--t.

11. An Efay on Man: in Four Epiftles. POPE. To H. St. John, Lord Bolingbroke.

ARGUMENT OF EPISTLE 1.

Of the Nature and State of Man with respect to the UNIVERSE.

reafon; that Reafon alone countervails all the other faculties. How much further this order and jubordination of living creatures may extend, above and below us; were any part of which broken, not that part only, but the whole connected creation, mußt be deftroyed.-The extravagance, madness, and pride of fuch a defire. The confequence of all the absolute submilion due to Providence, both as to our prefent and future state.

EPISTLE I.

AWAKE, my Saint John! leave all meaner
things

To low ambition and the pride of kings.
Let us (fince life can little more fupply
Than just to look about us, and to die)
Expatiate free o'er all this fcene of man;
A mighty maze! but not without a plan :
A wild, where weeds and flow'rs promifcuous
Or garden, tempting with forbidden fruit. [fhoot;
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 fightlefs foar;
Eye Nature's walks, fhoot folly as it flies,
And catch the manners living as they rife:
Laugh where we must, be candid where we can ;
But vindicate the ways of God to man.

Say firft, of God above, or man below,
What can we reason, but from what we know?
Of man, what fee we but his station here,
From which to reafon, or to which refer?
Thro' worlds unnumber'd tho' the God be known,
'Tis ours to trace him only in our own.
He, who thro' vaft immenfity can pierce,
See worlds on worlds compofe one univerfe,
Obferve how fyftem into fyftem runs,
What other planets circle other funs,
What vary'd being peoples ev'ry star,
May tell why Heav'n has made us as we are
But of this frame, the bearings and the ties,
The ftrong connections, nice dependencies,
Gradations juft, has thy pervading foul
Look'd thro'? or can a part contain the whole?

Of Man in the abftra&t.—That we can judge only with regard to our own fyftem, being ignorant of the relations of fyftems and things.-That Man is not to be deemed imperfect, but a being fuited to his place and rank in the creation, agreeable to the general order of things, and conformable to ends and relations to him unknown. That it is partly upon his ignorance of future events, and partly upon the hope of a future ftate, that all his happiness in the prefent depends.-The pride of aiming at more knowledge, and pretending to more perfection, the Is the great chain that draws all to agree, caufe of Man's error and mifery. The impiety And drawn, fupports, upheld by God, or thee? of putting himself in the place of God, and Prefumptuous man! the reafon wouldst thou find! judging of the fitnefs or unfitness, perfection or Why form'd fo weak, fo little, and fo blind? imperfection, justice or injustice, of his difpen-Firft, if thou canft, the harder reafon guess, fations.The abfurdity of conceiting himself the final caufe of the creation, or expecting that perfection in the moral world, which is not in the natural. The unreasonableness of his complaints against Providence, while on the one hand he demands the perfections of the Angels, and on the other the bodily qualifications of the Brutes; though to pulless any of the fenfitive faculties in a higher degree, would render him miferable. That throughout the whole vifible world, an univerfal order and gradation in the fenfual and mental faculties is obferved, which causes a fubordination of creature to creature, and of all creatures to Man: The gradations of fenfe, inftinet, thought, reflection,

Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no less !
Ask of thy mother earth, why oaks are made
Taller and stronger than the weeds they fhade ?
Or ask of yonder argent fields above,
Why Jove's fatellites are lefs than Jove?

Of fyftems poffible, if 'tis confeft,
That Wisdom Infinite muft form the best,
Where all must full or not coherent be,
And all that rifes rife in due degree;
Then in the fcale of reas'ning life, 'tis plain,
There must be, fomewhere, fuch a rank as man
And all the question (wrangle e'er fo long)
Is only this, if God has plac'd him wrong

Refpecting man, whatever wrong we call,
May, must be right, as relative to all.

In

In human works, tho' labour'd on with pain,
A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain;
In God's, one fingle can its end produce;
Yet ferves to fecond too fome other ufe;
So man, who here feems principal alone,
Perhaps acts fecond to some sphere unknown,
Touches fome wheel, or verges to fome goal;
'Tis but a part we fee, and not a whole.
When the proud fteed shall know why man re-
ftrains

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His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains;
When the dull ox, why now he breaks the clod,
Is now a victim, and now Egypt's god :
Then fhall man's pride and dulnefs comprehend
His actions', paffions', being's, ufe and end;
Why doing,fuff'ring, check'd, impell'd; and why
This hour a flave, the next a deity.

Call imperfection what thou fancy'ft fuch;
Say here he gives too little, there too much:
Destroy all creatures for fupport or gust,
Yet cry, If Man's unhappy, God's unjuft;
If Man alone ingrofs not Heav'n's high care,
Alone made perfect here, immortal there:
Snatch'd from his hand the balance and the rod,
Re-judge his juftice, be the God of God.
In Pride, in reas'ning Pride, our error lies;
All quit their fphere, and rush into the skies.
Pride ftill is aiming at the bleft abodes;
Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods!
Afpiring to be Gods, if Angels fell,
Afpiring to be Angels, Men rebel :
And who but wishes to invert the laws
Of Order, fins against th'Eternal Cause.
Afk for what end the heav'nly bodies shine!
Earth for whofe ufe?-Pride anfwers, " 'Tis for

mine :

"For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r,
"Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry flow'r;
"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, funs to light me rife;
"My foot-ftool earth, iny canopy the skies."
But errs not Nature from this gracious end,
From burning funs when livid deaths descend,
When earthquakes fwallow, or when tempefts
fweep

Then say not man's imperfect, Heav'n in fault;
Say rather, man's as perfect as he ought:
His knowledge meafur'd to his ftate and place;
His time a moment, and a point his space.
If to be perfect in a certain sphere,
What matter, foon or late, or here or there;
The bleft to day is as completely fo
As who began a thousand years ago. [Fate;
Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of"
All but the page prefcrib'd, their present state :
From brutes what men, from men what fpirits
Or who could fuffer Being here below? [know;
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,
Had he thy Reason, would he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the laft, he crops the flow'ry food,
And licks the hand just rais'd to fhed his blood."
Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n,
That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heav'n:
Who fees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish or a fparrow fall;
Atoms or fyftems into ruin hurl'd;
And now a bubble burst, and now a world.
Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions
foar ;

Wait the great teacher Death, and God adore.
What future blifs he gives not thee to know,
But gives that Hope to be thy bleffing now.

Hope fprings eternal in the Human breaft:
Man never Is, but always To be bleft,
The foul unealy, and confin'd from home,
Refts and expatiates in a life to come.

Lo, the poor Indian! whofe untutor'd mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;
His foul proud fcience never taught to stray,
Far as the folar walk, or milky way;
Yet fimple nature to his hope has giv'n,
Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heav'n;
Soine fafer world in depth of woods embrac'd,
Some happier island in the wat'ry waste,
Where flaves once more their native land behold;
No fiends torment, no Chriftians thirft for gold.
To Be, contents his natural defire;

He afks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,

His faithful dog fhall bear him company.
Go, wifer thou! and in thy fcale of fenfe,
Weigh thy Opinion against Providence;

Towns to one grave, whole Nations to the deep?
No ('tis reply'd) the first Almighty Cause
"Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral laws;
"Th'exceptions few; fome change fince all be-

gan:

And what created perfect!'-Why then Man?
If the great end be human Happiness,
Then Nature deviates, and can Man do lefs?
As much that end a conftant course requires
Of show'rs and funshine, as of Man's defires;
As much eternal springs and cloudless skies,
As men for ever temp'rate calm and wife. [fign.
If plagues or earthquakes break not Heav'n's de-
Why then a Borgia, or a Catiline? [forms,
Who knows but He, whofe hand the lightning
Who heaves old Ocean, and who wings the ftorms,
Pours fierce Ambition in a Cæfar's mind,
Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge man-
kind?
[1prings?
From pride, from pride, our very reas'ning
Account for moral as for natʼral things:
Why charge we Heav'n in thofe, in these acquit?
In both, to reafon right, is to fubmit.
Better for us, perhaps, it might appear,
Were there all harmony, all virtue here;
That never air or ocean felt the wind;
That never paffion difcompos'd the mind.
But all fubfifts by elemental ftrife;
And paffions are the elements of Life.
The gen'ral order, fince the whole began,
Is kept in Nature, and is kept in Man. [foar,
What would this Man? Now upward will he
And little less than Angel, would be more!

Now

Now looking downwards, just as griev'd appears | Beaft, bird, fish, infect, what no eye can fee,

To want the strength of bulls, the fur of bears.
Made for his ufe all creatures if he call,
Say what their use, had he the pow'rs of all?
Nature to thefe, without profufion, kind,
The proper organs, proper pow'rs affign'd;
Each feeming want compenfated of courfe,
Here with degrees or swiftness, there of force;
All in exact proportion to the ftate;
Nothing to add, and nothing to abate.
Each beaft, each infect, happy in its own:
Is Heav'n unkind to Man, and Man alone?
Shall he alone, whoin rational we call,
Be pleas'd with nothing, if not bleft with all?
The blifs of man(could Pride that bleifing find)
Is not to act or think beyond mankind;
No pow'rs of body or of foul to fhare,
But what his nature and his state can bear.
Why has not man a microscopic eye?
For this plain reafon, Man is not a Fly.
Say what the ufe, were finer optics giv'n
T'infpect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n?
Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er,
To fmart and agonize at ev'ry pore?
Or quick effluvia darting thro' the brain,
Die of a refe in aromatic pain?
If nature thunder'd in his op'ning ears,
And tunn'd him with the mufic of the fpheres,
How would he wish that Heav'n had left him ftill
The whip'ring Zephyr, and the purling rill!
Who finds not Providence all good and wife,
Alike in what it gives and what denies ?

Far as Creation's ample range extends,
The fcale of fenfual, mental pow'rs afcends:
Mark how it mounts to Man's imperial race,
From the green myriads in the peopled grafs :
What modes of fight betwixt each wide extreme,
The mole's dim curtain and the lynx's beam :
Of fmell, the headlong lionefs between,
And hound fagacious on the tainted green:
Of hearing, from the life that fills the flood,
To that which warbles through the vernal wood?
The fpider's touch, how exquifitely fine!
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line:
In the nice bee what fenfe so subtly true
From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew!
How Inftinct varies in the grov'ling fwine,
Compar'd half-reas'ning elephant, with thine?
'Twixt that and Reafon, what a nice barrier?
For ever fep'rate, yet for ever near !
Remembrance and Reflection how ally'd;
What thin partitions Senfe from Thought divide!
And middle natures how they long to join,
Yet never pafs th'infuperable line
Without this juft gradation could they be
Subjected, thefe to thofe, or all to thee?
The pow'rs of all fubdu'd by thee alone,
Is not thy Reafon all these pow'rs in one?
See thro' this air, this ocean, and this earth,
All matter quick, and buifting into birth.
Above, how high progreffive life may go
Around, how wide! how deep extend below!
Vaft chain of being! which from God began;
Natures ethereal, human, angel, man,

No glafs can reach; from Infinite to thee,
From thee to Nothing.-On fuperior pow'rs
Were we to prefs, inferior might on ours:
Or in the full creation leave a void,

Where one step broken, the great fcale's de-.
ftroy'd:

From Nature's chain whatever link you strike,
Tenth, or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike.
And, if each fyftem in gradation roll
Alike effential to th'amazing Whole,
The leaft confufion but in one, not all
That fyftem oniy, but the Whole tuft fall.
Let earth unbalanc'd from her orbit fly,
Planets and Suns run lawless thro' the sky;
Let ruling Angels from their spheres be huil'd,
Being on Being wreck'd, and world on world;
Heav'n's whole foundations to their centre nod,
And nature trembles to the throne of God.
All this dread Order break for whom? for
thee?

Vile worm oh Madness' Pride! Impiety!

What if the foot, ordain'd the dust to tread,
Or hand, to toil, afpir'd to be the head?
What if the head, the eye, or ear repin'd
To ferve mere engines to the ruling Mind ?
Juft as abfurd for any part to claim
To be another in this gen'ral frame;
Juft as abfurd, to mourn the tafks or pains
The great directing Mind of all ordains.

All are but parts of one ftupendous whole,
Whofe body Nature is, and God the foul;
That chang'd thro' all, and yet in all the fame;
Great in the earth as in th'ethereal frame;
Warms in the fun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the ftars, and bloffoms in the trees;
Lives thro all life, extends thro' all extent;
Spreads undivided, operates unfpent;
Breathes in our foul, informs our mortal part
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart;
As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourus,
As the rapt Seraph that adores and burns
To him no high, no low, no great, no finall;
He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.

Ccafe then, nor Order imperfection name:
Our proper blifs depends on what we blame.
Know thy own point: This kind, this due degree
Of blindness, weakness, Heav'n bestows on thee,
Submit In this, or any other sphere,
Secure to be as bleft as thou canft bear:
Safe in the hand of one difpofiag Pow'r,
Or in the natal, or the mortal hour.
All nature is but art unknown to thee;
All Chance, Direction, which thou cauft not fee;
All Difcord, Harmony not understood;
All partial Evil, univerfal Good:
And, fpite of Pride, in erring Reafon's fpite,
One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.

ARGUMENT OF EPISTLE

11.

Of the Nature and State of Man with respect to
Himself, as an Individual.

The bufinefs of Man not to pry into God, but to fludv
Himself. His Middle Nature: his Pours and

Fraillies.

Frailties.-The Limits of his Capacity.-The
trvo Principles of Man, Self-love and Reafon,
both neceffary. Self-love the stronger, and
zuhy. Their end the fame. -The Paffions, and
their ufe.
The Predominant Paffion, and its
force.-Its Neceffity, in directing Men to differ-
ent Purposes. Its providential Ufe, in fixing
our Principle, and afcertaining our Virtue
Virtue and Vice joined in our mixed Nature;
the limits near, yet the things feparate and evi-
dent. What is the Office of Reafon. - How
odious Vice in itself, and how we deceive our-
Jelves into it. That, however, the Ends of
Providence and general Good are answered in
our Paffions and Imperfections.-How fefully
thefe are diftributed to all Orders of Men.
How useful they are to Society- And to Indi-
viduals In every flate, and every age of
life.

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EPISTLE II.

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Trace Science then, with Modesty thy guides
Firft ftrip off all her equipage of Pride;
Deduct but what is Vanity or Drefs,
Or Learning's Luxury, or Idlenefs;
Or tricks to fhew the stretch of human brain,
Mere curious pleasure, or ingenious pain;
Expunge the whole, or lop th'excrefcent parts
Of all our vices have created Arts;
Then fee how little the remaining fum,
Which ferv'd the paft, and must the time to come!
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 ftill,
Afcribe all Good; to their improper, Ill.

Self-love, the fpring of motion, acts the foul;
Reafon'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,

KNOW then thy felf, prefume not God to fcan, To draw nutrition, propagate and rot:

The proper ftudy of Mankind is Man.
Plac'd on this ifthmus of a middle ftate,
A being darkly wife, and rudely great :
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic fide,
With too much weaknefs for the Stoic's pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a God or Beaft;
In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer,
Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err;
Alike in ignorance, his reafon fuch,
Whether he thinks too little or too much :
Chaos of Thought and Paffion, all confus'd;
Still by himfelf abus'd or difabus'd;
Created half to rife, and half to fall;
Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;
Sole judge of Truth, in endlefs Error hurl'd:
The glory, jeft, and riddle of the world!

Go, wond'rous creature! mount where Science
guides;

Go, measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides;
Inftruct the planets in what orbs to run,
Corrc&t old Time, and regulate the Sun;
Go, foar with Plato to th'empyreal sphere,
To the first good, first perfect, and faft fair;
Or tread the mazy round his follow'rs trod,
And quitting fenfe, call imitating God;
As Eaftern pricfts in giddy circles run,
And turn their head, to imitate the Sun.
Go, teach Eternal Wildom how to rule-
Then drop into thyself, and be a fool!

Superior beings, when of late they faw
A mortal Man unfold all Nature's law,
Admir'd fuch wifdom in an earthly fhape,
And fhew'd a Newton as we thew an Ape.

Could he, whofe rules the rapid Comet bind,
Defcribe or fix one movement of his Mind?
Who faw its fires here life, and there defcend,
Explain his own beginning, or his end?
Alas, what wonder! Man's fuperior part
Uncheck'd may rife, and climb from art to art;
But when his own great work is but begun,
What Realon weaves, by Paffion is undone.

Or, meteor-like, flame lawlefs thro' the void,
Deftroying others, by himself deftroy'd.
Moft ftrength the moving principle requires a
Active its talk, it prompts, impels, inspires.
Sedate and quict the comparing lies;
Form'd but to check, delib'rate, and advise.
Self-love, ftill ftronger, as its object's nigh;
Reafon's at diftance, and in profpect lie:
That fees immediate good by present sense;
Reafon, the future and the confequence.
Thicker than arguments, temptations throng;
At beft more watchful this, but that more strong.
The action of the ftronger to fufpend,
Reafon ftill ufe, to Reafon ftill attend.
Attention, habit, and experience gains;
Each ftrengthens Reason, and Self-love restrains.
Let fubtle fchoolmen teach these friends to fight,
More ftudious to divide than to unite;
And Grace and Virtue, Sense and Reason split,
With all the rafh dexterity of wit.

Wits, juft like Fools, at war about a name,
Have full as oft no meaning, or the fame.
Self-love and Reason to one end aspire;
Pain their averfion, Pleafure their defire;
But greedy That, its object would devour;
This tafte the honey, and not wound the flow'r :
Pleafure, or wrong or rightly understood,
Our greatest evil, or our greateft good.

Modes of Self-love the Paffions we may call :
'Tis real good, or feeming, moves them all:
But fince not ev'ry good we can divide,
And Reafon bids us for our own provide;
Paffions, tho' felfisk, if their means be fair,
Lift under Reason, and deserve her care;
Thofe, that imparted, court a nobler aim,
Exalt their kind, and take fome Virtue's name.
In lazy Apathy let Stoics boaft
Their Virtue fix'd ; 'tis fix'd as in a froft;
Contracted all, retiring to the breast;
But ftrength of mind is Exercife, not Reff:
The rifing tempeft puts in at the foul;
Parts it may ravage, but preferves the whole.

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