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Hence diff'rent paffions more or less inflame,
As ftrong or weak the organs of the frame;
And hence one MASTER PASSION in the breaft,
Like Aaron's ferpent, fwallows up the reft.

130

As Man, perhaps, the moment of his breath, Receives the lurking principle of death; The young disease, that must subdue at length, 135 Grows with his growth, and ftrengthens with his ftrength:

So, caft and mingled with his very frame,

The Mind's disease, its RULING PASSION came;
Each vital humour which fhould feed the whole,
Soon flows to this, in body and in foul:
Whatever warms the heart, or fills the head,
As the mind opens, and its functions fpread,
Imagination plies her dang'rous art,
And pours it all upon the peccant part.

NOTES.

140

in a strain of Poetry so wonderfully fublime, as fufpends, for a while, the ruling paffion, in every Reader, and engroffes his whole Admiration.

This naturally leads the poet to lament the weakness and infufficiency of human reafon; and the purpose he had in fo doing, was plainly to intimate the neceffity of a more perfect difpenfation to Mankind.

VER. 133. As Man, perhaps, &c.]" Antipater Sidonius "Poeta omnibus annis uno die natali tantum corripiebatur "febre, et eo confumptus eft, fatis longa fenecta." Plin. N. H. 1. vii. This Antipater was in the times of Craffus, and is celebrated for the quickness of his parts by Cicero.

Nature its mother, Habit is its nurse;

Wit, Spirit, Faculties but make it worse

145

;

Reafon itfelf but gives it edge and pow'r :
As Heav'n's bleft beam turns vinegar more fowre.
We, wretched fubjects tho' to lawful sway,

In this weak queen, fome fav'rite still obey:. 150
Ah! if fhe lend not arms as well as rules,
What can fhe more than tell us we are fools?
Teach us to mourn our Nature, not to mend,
A sharp accufer, but a helpless friend!
Or from a judge turn pleader, to perfuade
The choice we make, or justify it made;

NOTES.

155

VER. 147. Reafon itself, &c.] The poet, in fome other of his epiftles, gives example of the doctrine and precepts here delivered. Thus, in that Of the ufe of Riches, he has illuftrated this truth in the character of Cotta:

Old Cotta fham'd his fortune and his birth,
Yet was not Cotta void of wit or worth.
What tho' (the use of barb'rous spits forgot)
His kitchen vy'd in coolness with his grot?
If Cotta liv'd on pulse, it was no more,
Than bramins, faints, and fages did before.

VER. 149. We, wretched fubjects, c.] St. Paul himself did not chufe to employ other arguments, when difpofed to give us the higheft idea of the usefulness of Chriftianity (Rom. vii.) But, it may be, the poet finds a remedy in Natural Religion. Far from it. He here leaves reafon unrelieved. What is this then, but an intimation that we ought to feek for a cure in that religion, which only dares profess to give it?

Proud of an easy conqueft all along,

She but removes weak paffions from the ftrong:
So, when small humours gather to a gout,

The doctor fancies he has driven them out.

160

Yes, Nature's road muft ever be preferr'd:
Reafon is here no guide but ftill a guard;
'Tis her's to rectify, not overthrow,

And treat this paffion more as friend than foe:
A mightier Pow'r the ftrong direction fends, 165
And fev'ral Men impels to fev'ral ends:

NOTES.

VER. 163. 'Tis her's to rectify, &c.] The meaning of this precept is, That as the ruling Paffion is implanted by Nature; it is Reafon's office to regulate, direct, and reftrain, but not to overthrow it. To regulate the paffion of Avarice, for instance, into a parfimonious difpenfation of the public revenues; to direct the paffion of Love, whofe object is worth and beauty,

To the first good, first perfect, and first fair,

Tò xaλóv r' ayatov, as his master Plato advises; and to reftrain Spleen to a contempt and hatred of Vice. This is what the poet meant, aud what every unprejudic'd man could not but fee he must needs mean by RECTIFYING THE MASTER PASSION, though he had not confined us to this fenfe in the reafon he gives of his precept in thefe words:

A mightier Pow'r the ftrong direction fends,
And fev'ral Men impels to fev'ral ends:

For what ends are they which God impels to, but the ends of Virtue ?

5

Like varying winds, by other paffions toft,
This drives them conftant to a certain coast.
Let pow'r or knowledge, gold or glory, please,
Or (oft more strong than all) the love of eafe; 170
Thro' life 'tis follow'd, ev'n at life's expence;

The merchant's toil, the fage's indolence,
The monk's humility, the hero's pride,
All, all alike, find reafon on their fide.

175

Th' Eternal Art educing good from ill, Grafts on this Paffion our best Principle: 'Tis thus the Mercury of Man is fix'd, Strong grows the Virtue with his Nature mix'd; The drofs cements what else were too refin'd, And in one int'rest body acts with mind.

As fruits, ungrateful to the planter's care, On favage ftocks inferted, learn to bear;

NOTES.

180

VER. 175. Th' Eternal Art, &c.] The author, throughout these epiftles, has explained his meaning to be, that vice is, in its own nature, the greatest of evils; and produced by the abuse of man's free-will,

What makes all physical and moral ill?

There deviates Nature, and here wanders will: but that God, in his infinite goodness, deviously turns the natural bias of its malignity to the advancement of human happinefs: a doctrine very different from the Fable of the Bees, which impiously and foolishly supposes it to have that natural tendency,

):

185

The fureft Virtues thus from paffions shoot,
Wild Nature's vigor working at the root.
What crops of wit and honefty appear
From spleen, from obstinacy, hate or fear!
See anger, zeal and fortitude fupply;
Ev'n av'rice, prudence; floth, philosophy;
Luft, thro' fome certain ftrainers well refin'd,
Is gentle love, and charms all womankind;
Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a flave,
Is emulation in the learn'd or brave;
Nor Virtue, male or female, can we name,
But what will grow on Pride, or grow on Shame.
Thus Nature gives us (let it check our pride) 195
The virtue nearest to our vice ally'd:

VARIATIONS.

After ver. 194 in the MS.

190

How oft, with Paffion, Virtue points her Charms!
Then shines the Hero, then the Patriot warms.
Peleus' great Son, or Brutus, who had known,
Had Lucrece been a Whore, or Helen none?
But Virtues oppofite to make agree,
That, Reason! is thy task; and worthy Thee.
Hard talk, cries Bibulus, and reason weak.
-Make it a point, dear Marquis! or a pique.
Once, for a whim, perfuade yourself to pay
A debt to reafon, like a debt at play.
For right or wrong have mortals fuffer'd more?
B-for his Prince, or ** for his Whore?

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