Cremona now shall ever boast thy name,

As next in place to Mantua, next in fame!

But soon by impious arms from Latium chased, Their ancient bounds the banish'd Muses pass'd; 710 Thence arts o'er all the northern world advance,

But critic learning flourish'd most in France;
The rules a nation, born to serve, obeys,
And Boileau still in right of Horace sways.
But we, brave Britons, foreign laws despised,
And kept unconquer'd and uncivilized;
Fierce for the liberties of wit, and bold,
We still defied the Romans, as of old.
Yet some there were, among the sounder few
Of those who less presumed and better knew,
Who durst assert the juster ancient cause,
And here restored wit's fundamental laws.
Such was the Muse, whose rules and practice tell,
'Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.'
Such was Roscommon, not more learn'd than good,
With manners generous as his noble blood;
To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known,
And every author's merit but his own,

720

730

Such late was Walsh-the Muse's judge and friend,
Who justly knew to blame or to commend ;
To failings mild, but zealous for desert,
The clearest head, and the sincerest heart.
This humble praise, lamented shade ! receive;
This praise at least a grateful Muse may give :
The Muse whose early voice you taught to sing,
Prescribed her heights, and pruned her tender wing,
(Her guide now lost) no more attempts to rise,
But in low numbers short excursions tries;
Content, if hence th' unlearn'd their wants may view,
The learn'd reflect on what before they knew:

740

Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame ;

Still pleased to praise, yet not afraid to blame; Averse alike to flatter or offend;

Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.

25

MORAL ESSAYS.1

EPISTLE I.

TO SIR RICHARD TEMPLE, LORD COBHAM.

OF THE KNOWLEDGE AND CHARACTERS OF MEN.

Argument.

1. That it is not sufficient for this knowledge to consider man in the abstract; books will not serve the purpose, nor yet our own experience singly-General maxims, unless they be formed upon both, will be but notional-Some peculiarity in every man, characteristic to himself, yet varying from himself--Difficulties arising from our own passions, fancies, faculties, &c.-The shortness of life to observe in, and the uncertainty of the principles of action in men to observe by-Our own principle of action often hid from ourselves-Some few characters plain, but in general confounded, dissembled, or inconsistent-The same man utterly different in different places and seasons- -Unimaginable weaknesses in the greatest-Nothing constant and certain but God and nature-No judging of the motives from the actions; the same actions proceeding from contrary motives, and the same motives influencing contrary actions-2. Yet to form

1 See Introduction, p. xxix.

characters we can only take the strongest actions of a man's life, and try to make them agree: the utter uncertainty of this, from nature itself, and from policy-Characters given according to the rank of men of the world; and some reason for it-Education alters the nature, or at least the character, of many-Actions, passions, opinions, manners, humours, or principles, all subject to change-No judging by nature-3. It only remains to find (if we can) his Ruling Passion: that will certainly influence all the rest, and can reconcile the seeming or real inconsistency of all his actions-Instanced in the extraordinary character of Clodio-A caution against mistaking second qualities for first, which will destroy all possibility of the knowledge of mankindExamples of the strength of the ruling passion, and its continuation to the last breath.

YES, you despise the man to books confined,

Who from his study rails at humankind;

Though what he learns he speaks, and may advance

Some general maxims, or be right by chance.
The coxcomb bird, so talkative and grave,
That from his cage cries [blockhead, slut,] and knave,
Though many a passenger he rightly call,

You hold him no philosopher at all.

And yet the fate of all extremes is such,
Men may be read, as well as books, too much.
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.
There's some peculiar in each leaf and grain,
Some unmark'd fibre, or some varying vein.

Shall only man be taken in the gross ?
Grant but as many sorts of mind as moss.

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.

10

20

Our depths who fathoms or our shallows finds,
Quick whirls and shifting eddies of our minds?
On human actions reason though you can,
It may be reason, but it is not man:
His principle of action once explore,
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 difference 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;
Or fancy's beam enlarges, multiplies,

Contracts, inverts, and gives ten thousand dyes.
Nor will life's stream for observation stay;

It hurries all too fast to mark their way:

In vain sedate reflections we would make,

30

When half our knowledge we must snatch, not take. 40
Oft, in the passions' wide rotation tost,

Our spring of action to ourselves is lost :
Tired, not determined, to the last we yield,
And what comes then is master of the field.
As the last image of that troubled heap,
When sense subsides, and fancy sports in sleep,
(Though past the recollection of the thought)
Becomes the stuff of which our dream is wrought;
Something as dim to our internal view
Is thus, perhaps, the cause of most we do.

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 beloved at sight;
And every child hates Shylock, though his soul
Still sits at squat, and peeps not from its hole.

50