Full text

Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744: [from The Works (1736)]
VOL. II. Containing his EPISTLES and SATIRES.
Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744:
ETHIC EPISTLES, THE SECOND BOOK. [from The Works (1736)]

Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744:

EPISTLE I. TO Sir Richard Temple , Lord Viscount Cobham . [from The Works (1736)]

Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744: EPISTLE I. TO Sir Richard Temple, Lord Viscount Cobham. [from The Works (1736)]

1 ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Yes, you despise the Man to books confin'd,
2            Who from his Study rails at human kind;
3            Tho' what he learns he speaks, and may advance
4            Some gen'ral maxims, or be right by chance.
5            The coxcomb bird, so talkative and grave,
6            That from his cage cries cuckold, whore, and knave,
7            Tho' many a passenger he rightly call,
8            You hold him no Philosopher at all.

9            And yet the fate of all Extremes is such,
10          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Men may be read, as well as books, too much,

[Page 2]

11          To observations which ourselves we make,
12          We grow more partial for th'Observer's sake;
13          To written wisdom, as another's, less:
14          Maxims are drawn from Notions, these from Guess.

15          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

There's some Peculiar in each Leaf and Grain;
16          Some unmark'd fibre, or some varying vein:
17          Shall only Man be taken in the gross?
18          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Grant but as many sorts of mind, as Moss.

19 ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

That each from other differs, first confess;
20          Next, that he varies from himself no less:
21          Add Nature's, Custom's, Reason's, Passion's strife,
22          And all Opinion's colours cast on Life.

23          Yet more; the diff'rence is as great between
24          The Optics seeing, as the objects seen.
25          All Manners take a tincture from our own,
26          Or come discolour'd thro' our Passions shown,
27          Or Fancy's beam inlarges, multiplies,
28          Contracts, inverts, and gives ten thousand dyes.

29          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Our Depths who fathoms, or our Shallows finds?
30          Quick Whirls, and shifting Eddies, of our minds?

[Page 3]

31          Life's stream for observation will not stay,
32          It hurries all too fast to mark their way:
33          In vain sedate reflections we would make,
34          When half our knowledge we must snatch, not take.
35          On human actions reason tho' you can,
36          It may be Reason, but it is not Man;
37          His Principle of action once explore,
38          That instant, 'tis his principle no more;
39          Like following life thro' Creatures you dissect,
40          You lose it, in the moment you detect.

41          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Oft, in the Passions wild rotation tost,
42          Our Spring of action to ourselves is lost:
43          Tir'd, not determin'd, to the last we yield,
44          And what comes then is master of the field.
45          As the last Image of that troubled heap
46          When sense subsides, and Fancy sports in sleep,
47          (Tho' past the recollection of the thought)
48          Becomes the stuff of which our Dream is wrought;
49          Something, as dim to our internal view,
50          Is thus perhaps the cause of all we do.

51          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

In vain the grave, with retrospective eye,
52          Would from th'apparent what conclude the why,
53          Infer the Motive from the Deed, and show
54          That what we chanc'd, was what we meant to do.

[Page 4]

55          Behold! if Fortune, or a Mistress frowns,
56          Some plunge in bus'ness, others shave their crowns:
57          To ease the soul of one oppressive weight,
58          This quits an Empire, that embroils a State:
59          The same adust complexion has impell'd
60          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Charles to the Convent, Philip to the Field.

61          Not always Actions shew the Man: we find,
62          Who does a kindness is not therefore kind;
63          Perhaps Prospertity becalm'd his breast;
64          Perhaps the Wind just shifted from the east.
65          Not therefore humble he who seeks retreat,
66          Pride guides his steps, and bids him shun the Great.
67          Who combats bravely, is not therefore brave;
68          He dreads a death-bed like the meanest slave.
69          Who reasons wisely, is not therefore wise;
70          His pride in reas'ning, not in acting lies.

71          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

But grant that Actions best discover man;
72          Take the most strong, and sort them as you can:
73          The few that glare, each Character must mark,
74          You balance not the many in the dark.
75          What will you do with such as disagree?
76          Suppress them, or miscall them Policy?
77          Must then at once (the character to save)
78          A plain, rough Hero turn a crafty knave?

[Page 5]

79          Alas! in truth the man but chang'd his mind,
80          Perhaps was sick, in love, or had not din'd.

81          Ask why from Britain, Cæsar made retreat?
82          Cæsar perhaps had told you, he was beat.
83          The mighty Czar what mov'd to wed a punk?
84          The mighty Czar might answer, he was drunk.
85          But sage Historians! 'tis your task to prove
86          One action Conduct, one Heroic love.

87          ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

'Tis from high Life high Characters are drawn;
88          A Saint in crape, is twice a Saint in lawn;
89          A Judge is just, a Chanc'lor juster still;
90          A Gownman learn'd; a Bishop, what you will;
91          Wise, if a Minister; but if a King,
92          More wise, more learn'd, more just, more ev'ry thing.
93          Court-virtues bear, like gems, the highest rate,
94          Born where heav'n's influence scarce can penetrate.
95          In life's low vale, (the soil the Virtues like)
96          They please as beauties, here as wonders strike.
97          Tho' the same Sun with all diffusive rays
98          Blush in the rose, and in the diamond blaze,
99          We prize the stronger effort of his pow'r,
100        And always set the gem above the flow'r.

101        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

'Tis Education forms the vulgar mind:
102        Just as the Twig is bent, the Tree's inclin'd.
103        Boastful and rough, your first son is a Squire;
104        The next a Tradesman, meek, and much a liar:

[Page 6]

105        Tom struts a Soldier, open, bold, and brave;
106        Will sneaks a Scriv'ner, an exceeding knave:
107        Is he a Churchman? then he's fond of pow'r;
108        A Quaker? sly; a Presbyterian? sour;
109        A smart Free thinker? all things in an hour.

110        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

True, some are open and to all Men known;
111        Others so very close, they're hid from none;
112        (So darkness fills the Eye no less than Light)
113        Thus gracious Chandos is belov'd at sight:
114        And ev'ry child hates Shylock, tho' his Soul
115        Still sits at squat, and peeps not from its hole.

116        At half mankind when gen'rous Manly raves,
117        All know 'tis Virtue, for he thinks them knaves.
118        When universal homage Umbra pays,
119        All see 'tis Vice, and itch of vulgar praise.
120        Who but detests th'Endearments of Courtine?
121        While One there is, who charms us with his Spleen.

122        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

But these plain Characters we rarely find,
123        Tho' strong the bent, yet quick the turns of mind:
124        Or puzzling Contraries confound the whole,
125        Or Affectations quite reverse the Soul:
126        The dull, flat Falsehood serves for policy,
127        And in the cunning, Truth itself's a lye:
128        Unthought of Frailties cheat us in the Wise;
129        The Fool lies hid in Inconsistencies.

[Page 7]

130        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

See the same man, in vigour, in the gout;
131        Alone, in company; in place, or out;
132        Early at bus'ness, and at Hazard late;
133        Mad at a fox-chase, wise at a debate;
134        Drunk at a borough, civil at a ball;
135        Friendly at Hackney, faithless at Whitehall.

136        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Catius is ever moral, ever grave,
137        Thinks who endures a knave, is next a knave;
138        Save just at Dinner---then prefers no doubt,
139        A rogue with Ven'son to a saint without.

140        Who would not praise Patritio's high desert?
141        His hand unstain'd, his uncorrupted heart,
142        His comprehensive head; all Int'rests weigh'd,
143        All Europe sav'd, yet Britain not betray'd.
144        He thanks you not; his pride was in Piquette,
145        Newmarket-fame, and judgment at a bett.

146        Triumphant Leaders, at an Army's head,
147        Hemm'd round with glories, pilfer cloth or bread,
148        As meanly plunder, as they bravely fought,
149        Now save a People, and now save a groat.

150        What made (say Montagne, or more sage Charron!)
151        Otho a Warrior, Cromwell a Buffoon?
152        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

A perjur'd Prince a leaden Saint revere?
153        A god-less Regent tremble at a Star?

[Page 8]

154        The throne a Bigot keep, a Genius quit,
155        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Faithless thro' Piety, and dup'd thro' Wit?
156        Europe, a Woman, child, or dotard rule;
157        And just her ablest Monarch made a fool?

158        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Know, God and Nature only are the same:
159        In Man, the judgment shoots at flying game;
160        A bird of passage! lost, as soon as found;
161        Now in the Moon perhaps, now under ground!

162        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Ask mens Opinions: Scoto now shall tell
163        How trade increases, and the world goes well;
164        Strike off his pension by the setting sun,
165        And Britain, if not Europe, is undone.

166        Manners with Fortunes, Humours change with Climes,
167        Tenets with Books, and Principles with Times.

168        Judge we by Nature? Habit can efface,
169        Int'rest o'ercome, or Policy take place:
170        By Actions? those Uncertainty divides:
171        By Passions? these Dissimulation hides:
172        Affections? they still take a wider range:
173        Find, if you can, in what you cannot change?

174        'Tis in the ruling Passion: there alone,
175        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

The wild are constant, and the cunning known,

[Page 9]

176        The fool consistent, and the false sincere;
177        Priests, Princes, Women, no dissemblers here.
178        This clue once found, unravels all the rest;
179        The prospect clears, and Clodio stands confest.
180        Clodio, the Scorn and Wonder of our days,
181        Whose ruling passion was the Lust of Praise;
182        Born with whate'er could win it from the wise,
183        Women and fools must like him, or he dies.
184        Tho' wond'ring Senates hung on all he spoke,
185        The Club must hail him Master of the Joke.
186        Shall parts so various aim at nothing new?
187        He'll shine a Tully, and a Wilmot too:
188        Then turns repentant, and his God adores
189        With the same spirit that he drinks and whores:
190        Enough, if all around him but admire,
191        And now the Punk applaud, and now the Fry'r.
192        Thus, with each gift of Nature and of Art,
193        And wanting nothing but an honest heart;
194        Grown all to all, from no one vice exempt,
195        And most contemptible to shun contempt;
196        His Passion still to covet gen'ral praise;
197        His Life, to forfeit it a thousand ways;
198        A constant Bounty, which no friend has made;
199        An Angel Tongue which no man can persuade;
200        A Fool, with more of Wit than half mankind;
201        Too rash for Thought, for Action too refin'd;
202        A Tyrant to the Wife his heart approves;
203        A Rebel to the very King he loves;
204        He dies, sad out-cast of each Church and State!
205        And (harder still) flagitious, yet not great.

[Page 10]

206        Ask you why Clodio broke thro' every rule?
207        'Twas all for fear, the Knaves should call him fool.

208        Nature well known, no Miracles remain,
209        Comets are regular, and Clodio plain.
210        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

Yet in the search, the wisest may mistake,
211        If second Qualities for first they take.
212        When Catiline by rapine swell'd his store,
213        When Cæsar made a noble dame a whore,
214        In this the Lust, in that the Avarice
215        Were means, not ends; Ambition was the vice.
216        That very Cæsar, born in Scipio's days,
217        Had aim'd, like him, by Chastity at praise:
218        Lucullus, when Frugality could charm,
219        Had roasted turnips in the Sabin farm.
220        In vain th'Observer eyes the builder's toil,
221        But quite mistakes the Scaffold for the Pile.

222        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

In this one Passion man can strength enjoy,
223        As Fits give vigour, just when they destroy.
224        Time, that on all things lays his lenient hand,
225        Yet tames not this: it sticks to our last sand.
226        Consistent in our follies, and our sins,
227        Here honest Nature ends as she begins.

228        Behold a rev'rend Sire, whom want of grace
229        Has made the father of a nameless race,

[Page 11]

230        Crawl thro' the street, shov'd on, or rudely press'd
231        By his own sons that pass him by unbless'd!
232        Still to his Wench he creeps on knocking knees,
233        And envies ev'ry Sparrow that he sees.

234        A Salmon's belly, Helluo, was thy fate:
235        The Doctor call'd declares all help too late.
236        Mercy! cries Helluo, mercy on my soul!
237        Is there no hope? alas?---then bring the Jowl.

238        "Odious! in Woollen! 'twou'd a Saint provoke,
239        (Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke)
240        "No, let a charming Chintz, and Brussels lace
241        "Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face:
242        "One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead---
243        "And, Betty! gives this cheek a little red.

244        Old Politicians chew on Wisdom past,
245        And blunder on in bus'ness to the last;
246        As weak as earnest; and as gravely out,
247        ^{[Footnote: 1Kb]}

As sober Lanesb'row, dancing in the Gout.

248        The Courtier smooth, who forty years had shin'd
249        An humble servant to all human kind,

[Page 12]

250        Just brought out this, when scarce his tongue could stir,
251        "If---where I'm going---I could serve you, Sir."

252        "I give and I devise (old Euclio said,
253        And sigh'd) "my Lands and Tenements to Ned."
254        Your Money, sir? "My Money, sir! what all?
255        "Why---if I must---(then wept) I give it Paul."
256        The Mannor, Sir? "The Mannor! hold, he cry'd,
257        "Not that---I cannot part with that"---and dy'd.

258        And you! brave Cobham, to the latest breath,
259        Shall feel your ruling Passion strong in death:
260        Such in those moments, as in all the past,
261        "Oh save my Country, Heav'n!" shall be your last.