ESSAY ON MAN. Then drop into thyself, and be a fool! Could he, whose rules the rapid comet bind, Or learning's luxury, or idleness; Or tricks to show the stretch of human brain, Expunge the whole, or lop th' excrescent parts 50 Then see how little the remaining sum, Which serv'd the past, and must the times to come! II. Two principles in human nature reign; Self-love, the spring of motion, acts the soul; Man, but for that, no action could attend, Most strength the moving principle requires ; Form'd but to check, delib'rate, and advise. Each strengthens reason, and self-love restrains. Let subtle school-men 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, Our greatest evil or our greatest good. III. Modes of self-love the passions we may call; "Tis real good, or seeming, moves them all; But since not ev'ry good we can divide, Exalt their kind, and take some virtue's name. Their virtue fix'd; 'tis fixed as in a frost; The rising tempest puts in act the soul, 105 Parts it may ravage, but preserves the whole. 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. 110 Passions, like elements, though born to fight, Yet, mix'd and soften'd, in his work unite: 115 These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd, 720 Pleasures are ever in our hands or eyes, And when in act they cease, in prospect rise: The whole employ of body and of mind. All spread their charms, but charm not all alike; 125 130 135 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. 140 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; 145 Wit, spirit, faculties, but make it worse; Reason itself but gives it edge and pow'r; As heav'n's blest beam turns vinegar more sour. We, wretched subjects, though to lawful sway, In this weak queen, some fav'rite still obey. 150 A sharp accuser, but a helpless friend! 155 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 them out. 160 Yes, nature's road must ever be preferr❜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: A mightier pow'r the strong direction sends, 165 And sev'ral men impels to sev'ral ends. 170 Through life 'tis follow'd, ev'n at life's expense; The merchant's toil, the sages indolence, The monk's humility, the hero's pride, All, all alike, find reason on their side. Th' eternal art, educing good from ill, 175 Grafts on this passion our best principle: 180 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. |