And yet the fate of all extremes is such, Men may be read, as well as Books, too much. 10 To observations which ourselves we make, We grow more partial for th' Observer's sake; To written Wisdom, as another's less: Maxims are drawn from Notions, those from Guess. Some unmark'd fibre, or some varying vein : NOTES. 15 Ver. 10. Men may be read,] "Say what they will of the great Book of the World, we must read others to know how to read that." M. De Sevigne to R. Rabutin. Ver. 15. There's some Peculiar, &c.] The Poet enters on the first division of his subject, the difficulties of coming to the Knowledge and true Characters of Men. The first cause of this diffi culty, which he prosecutes (from Ver. 14 to 19), is the great diversity of characters; of which, to abate our wonder, and not discourage our inquiry, he only desires we would grant him -but as many sorts of Mind as Moss." Hereby artfully insinuating, that if Nature hath varied the most worthless vegetable into above three hundred species, we need not wonder at a greater diversity in her highest work, the human mind: And if the variety in that vegetable has been thought of importance enough to employ the leisure of a serious inquirer, much more will the same circumstance in this masterpiece of the sublunary world deserve our study and attention. "Shall only Man be taken in the gross ?" W. Ver. 18. as many sorts of Mind] It is related in Mr. Harris's Manuscripts, that "Newton, hearing Handel play on the harpsichord, could find nothing worthy to remark but the elasticity of his fingers. At another time, having asserted that Terence's plays had no plot, and Bentley (in this knowledge his superior beyond all controversy) having copiously endeavoured to shew the contrary, he concluded as he began, that Terence's plays had That each from other differs, first confess; Next, that he varies from himself no less : Add Nature's Custom's, Reason's, Passion's strife, And all Opinion's colours cast on life. Our depths who fathoms, or our shallows finds, Quick whirls, and shifting eddies, of our minds? NOTES. 20 no plot. At another time, being asked his opinion of poetry, he quoted a sentiment of Barrow, that it was ingenious nonsense. "Thus will it necessarily happen, when men, even the greatest, are (according to the common saying) got out of their element. No genius, perhaps ever existing, more acute than his in discovering true from false, in the subjects of colour, quantity, and motion. No one had an abler intellect to discern what existed from that which existed not. But among the number of things existing, what were fair, beautiful, graceful, elegant, and what the contrary, of this, by these stories, one would imagine he had no conception." Ver. 19. That each from other differs, &c.] A second cause of this difficulty (from Ver. 18 to 21), is man's inconstancy; for not only one man differs from another, but the same man from himself. Ver. 20. Next, that he varies] A sensible French writer says, that the faults and follies of men chiefly arise from this circumstance, qu'ils n'ont pas l'esprit, en equilibre, pour ainsi dire, avec leur charactere: Ciceron, par exemple, etoit un grand esprit et une ame foible; c'est pour cela, qu'il fut grand orateur et homme d'etat mediocre. Ver. 21. Add Nature's, &c.] A third cause (from Ver. 20 to 23), is that obscurity thrown over the characters of men, through the strife and contest between nature and custom, hetween reason and appetite, between truth and opinion. And as most men, either through education, temperance, or profession, have their characters warped by custom, appetite, and opinion, the obscurity arising from thence is almost universal. W. Ver. 23. Our depths who fathoms, &c.] A fourth cause (from Ver. 22 to 25), is deep dissimulation, and restless caprice; whereby the shallows of the mind are as difficult to be found, as the depths of it are to be fathomed. W. 66 "A mesure qu'on a plus d'esprit," says the profound Pascal, on trouve qu'il y a plus d'hommes originaux." On human Actions reason tho' you can, may It be Reason, but it is not Man: That instant 'tis his principle no more. Like following life through creatures you dissect, You lose it in the moment you detect. Yet more; the diff'rence is as great between The optics seeing, as the objects seen. All Manners take a tincture from our own; Or come discolour'd through our Passions shown. Contracts, inverts, and gives ten thousand dies. It hurries all too fast to mark their way : In vain sedate reflections we would make, 25 30 35 When half our knowledge we must snatch, not take. NOTES. Ver. 25. On human Actions, &c.] A fifth cause (from Ver. 24 to 31), is the sudden change of his principle of action; either on the point of its being laid open and detected, or when it is reasoned upon, and attempted to be explored. W. Ver 31. Yet more; the diff'rence, &c.] Hitherto the Poet hath spoken of the causes of difficulty arising from the obscurity of the object; he now comes to those which proceed from defects in the observer. The first of which, and a sixth cause of difficulty, he shews (from Ver. 30 to 37), is the perverse manners, affections, and imaginations, of the observer; whereby the characters of others are rarely seen either in their true light, complexion, or proportion. W. Ver. 33. All Manners take] A deep knowledge of Human Nature is displayed in these four lines. So also in Ver. 42. Ver. 37. Nor will Life's stream for Observation, &c.] The seventh cause of difficulty, and the second arising from defects in the Observer (from Ver. 36 to 41), is the shortness of human life; which will not suffer him to select and weigh out his knowledge, but just to snatch it, as it rolls swiftly by him down the rapid current of Time. W. Oft, in the Passions' wide rotation tost, 41 45 Becomes the stuff of which our dream is wrought: NOTES. Ver. 41. Oft, in the Passions', &c.] We come now to the eighth and last cause, which very properly concludes the account; as, in a sort, it sums up all the difficulties in one (from Ver. 40 to 51), namely, that very often the man himself is ignorant of his own motive of action; the cause of which ignorance our Author has admirably explained: When the mind (says he) is now tired out by the long conflict of opposite motives, it withdraws its attention, and suffers the will to be seized upon by the first that afterward obtrudes itself, without taking much notice what that motive is. This is finely illustrated by what he supposes to be the natural cause of dreams; where the fancy, just let loose, possesses itself of the last image which it meets with, on the confines between sleep and waking, and on that erects all its ideal scenery; yet this seizure is, with great difficulty, recollected; and never, but when by some accident we happen to have our first slumbers suddenly interrupted. Then (which proves the truth of the hypothesis) we are sometimes able to trace the workings of the Fancy backwards, from idea to idea, in a chain, till we come to that from whence they all arose. W. Ver. 48. Becomes the stuff of which our dream is wrought :] Giraldus Cambrensis, speaking of a divine vision with which he was favoured, seems yet to think that it might be made out of the stuff of his waking thoughts. His words are these: "Cum igitur super universis quæ nobis acciderant, mecum non mediocriter anxius extiterim-suspiriosæ mihi multoties cogitationes in animum ascenderint, nocte quadam in somnis EX RELIQUIIS FERTE COGITATIONEM Visionem vidi," &c. Dé rebus a se gestis, L. 11. C. 12. By which we see, and it is worth remarking, that to philosophize on our Superstitions is so far from erasing them, that it engraves them but the more deeply in the mind. The reason is plain; it turns the objection to them to a solution in their credit. W. Something as dim to our internal view, Is thus, perhaps, the cause of most we do. 50 True some are open, and to all men known; Others so very close they're hid from none; (So Darkness strikes the sense no less than Light ;) Thus gracious CHANDOS is belov'd at sight; And ev'ry child hates Shylock, tho' his soul Still sits at squat, and peeps not from its hole. At half mankind when gen'rous Manly raves, All know 'tis Virtue, for he thinks them knaves: 55 NOTES. Ver. 56. Still sits at squat,] No two characters have been painted with more life and truth, and more circumstances nicely discriminated, than those of the artful Blifield and the open Tom Jones, in Fielding's incomparable Comic Epopée, an original and unrivalled work. Ver. 56. peeps not from its hole.] Which shews (says Scriblerus, idly) that this grave person was content with his present situation, as finding but small satisfaction in what a famous Poet reckons one of the advantages of old age; "The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Lets in new light through chinks that time has made." Scribl. Ver. 57. At half mankind] The character alluded to is the principal one in the Plain Dealer of Wycherly, a comedy taken from the Misanthrope of Moliere, but much inferior to the original. Alcestes has not that bitterness of spirit, and has much more humanity and honour than Manly. Writers transfuse their own characters into their works: Wycherly was a vain aud profligate libertine; Moliere was beloved for his candour, sweetness of temper, and integrity. It is remarkable that the French did not relish this incomparable comedy on the three first representations. The strokes of satire were too subtle and delicate to be felt by the generality of the audience, who expected only the gross diversion of laughing; so that, at the fourth time of its being acted, the author was forced to add to it one of his coarsest farces; but Boileau in the mean time affirmed that it was the capital work of |