Slave to thy felf, whilft Lord of all befide,
Surmount thy Weakness, or renounce thy Pride*.
That moving Pow'r which first produc'd the Whole, To ev'ry Thing has fix'd a certain Goal:
Thither all tend, and muft their Circles run,
For fuch the Order when the whole begun.
To diff'rent Creatures, diff'rent Ranks affign'd,
Man claims the first, as of a nobler kind ;
How juft that Claim, what Wisdom muft decide ?
Reason is his alone, by which 'tis try'dt:
Inferior Creatures filently fubmit,
'Tis his to talk, and therefore to have Wit.
Thus haughty Greece defpif'd the World around,
And barb'rous, all she understood not, found.
Look o'er the wide Creation, fee how all
Its feveral Parts obey the Maker's Call:
The Earth how fertile, and how rich the Sea,
In various Salts, for Nature's Chymistry;
Self-intereft, felf-love and felf-indulgence, are the main fprings of action in the greatest part of the human race; daily obfervation may convince any one of the truth of this remark.
Reafon is doubtlefs a great bleffing, and enables us to judge between right and wrong; but unsanctified reafon fhould be attended to at all times with great caution.
How Air digefts, what burning Suns exhale,
And Dews and Suows, and Rains, by turns, prevail.
Beafts, Birds and Reptiles, fee them all confpire,
To act whate'er their fev'ral States require.
But wifer Man difdains this meaner part,
Nature with him muft ftill give Way to Art;
Vain of Conceit, he boafls his fancy'd Skill,
And, arbitrary, rules the World at Will:
Now fierce and cruel, then as mild and kind,
Each Action owing to each Turn of Mind;
One Day a Friend, the next as great a Foe,
As Humour, Pique, Caprice, or Int'refts go;
Wisdom and Folly thus, by Turns, prefide,
And Chance alone inclines to either Side.
Afk the bold Freeman, or the coward Slave, What makes one abject, and the other brave? What gives to Fools their Faith, to Knaves their Wiles, To Cynics Sow'rnefs, and to Flatt'rers Smiles ? This one great Truth muft ftand by all confeft, Some ruling Paffion lurks in ev'ry Breast *; That Weakness by a fpecious Name they call, For 'tis that Weakness ftill which governs all.
The bias of inclination, difpofition, and temper, inclines all men to different purfuits, to obtain happiness; agreeable to their different ideas refpecting wherein it confifts.
Wifely the Springs of Action we conceal, Thus Sordidnefs is Prudence, Fury, Zeal; Ambition makes the Public good her Care, And Hypocrites the Mafk of Saintship wear.
Inur'd to Falfhood, we ourfelves deceive,
Oft what we wish, we fancy we believe‡;
We call that Judgment which is only Will,
And as we act, we learn to argue ill;
Like Bigots, who their various Creeds defend
By making Reafon ftill to Syftem bend.
Custom and Int'reft govern all Mankind,
Some Biafs cleaves to the unguarded Mind ;
Thro' this, as in a falfe or flatt'ring Glafs,
Things feem to change their Natures as they pafs;
Objets the fame in diff'rent Lights appear,
And but the Colours which we give them wear.
Error and Fraud from this great Source arife,
All Fools are modifh, and all Knaves are wife.
Who does not boa fome Merit of his own,
Tho' to himfelf perhaps 'tis only known?
Each fuits Reward to his own fav'rite Vice,
Pride has its Crowns, and Luft its Paradife*:
This is the cafe with perfons of every age and ftation
in life, whether young or old; rich or poor.
What elfe is the Mahometan paradife.
Both Prieft and Dervife in this faith agree,
That Heav'n must be all Pomp or Luxury;
Man, Slave to Senfe, no higher Bliss can know,
Still measures Things above by Things below*.
Joys much the fame, but differ in Degree,
As Time enlarg'd becomes Eternity.
How vain is all that Science we purfue!
Scorn'd by the Many, ufelefs to the Few:
Since fhort of Truth our utmost Labours end,
Who knows but Ign'rance is our greatest Friend?
The fruitless Pains but fhew the Weakness more,
And we, like Misers, 'midst our Wealth are poor.
Much hoarded Learning but like Lumber lies,
Or ends in Guefs-work and Obfcurities.
What tho' proud Greece her feven Sages boast?
The Names alone remain, the Race is loft.
Satyrs and Centaurs too, might live of old,
(For fo we are in ancient Story told)
But fhould we doubt in this our faithless Age;
Who can produce a Centaur or a Sage?
Such mighty Births were Nature's firft Ellays,
The lufty Offspring of her youthful Days;
Our later Times can no fuch Wonders show,
But what were Giants then, are Pigmies now.
*What we take pleafure in here below, however con trary it may be to right reafon, we would fain perfuade ourfelves we fhall enjoy hereafter.
Of all the painful Follies of Mankind,
Still to be feeking what they ne'er muft find,
Is fure the greateft; not unlike the Toil
Of him who labours in a barren Soil.
Beyond our State if our fond Wishes tend,
Means must be vain where we mistake the End.
Pride whispers mighty Projects in the Ear,
Bids us be wife, be great, and happy here;
But fad Experience fhews the Laws of Fate,
And teaches us to know ourselves too late*.
Error is a Diftemper of the Mindt,
Hard to be cur'd, becaufe 'tis hard to find;
So mixt and blended with our very Frame,
It lurks fecure and borrows Reafon's Name.
In diff'rent Perfons diff'rent Ways it fprings,
'Tis Factioufnefs in Subjects, Pride in Kings;
Boundlefs alike they in Extremes agree,
Thefe in Oppreffion, thofe in Anarchy;
Both aim at what 'twere Ruin to obtain,
A civil Frenzy, or a Tyrant Reign.
*Well does our poet fay in his Effay on Man Virtue alone is all our blifs below,
And our beft knowledge is ourfelves to know.
The wifeft of men are liable to err even refpecting the most important concerns in life, therefore papal infal libility is only popish knavery.
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