Sublimer views thy darling Spirit bound;
Thy mighty Voyage was Creation's round;
Intent new Worlds of Wisdom to explore,
And blefs Mankind with Virtue's facred ftore; 480
A nobler joy than Wit can give, impart;
And pour a moral transport o'er the heart.
Fantastic Wit fhoots momentary fires,

And, like a Meteor, while we gaze, expires:
Wit kindled by the fulph'rous breath of Vice, 485
Like the blue lightning, while it fhines, destroys:
But Genius, fir'd by Truth's eternal ray,

Burns clear and conftant, like the fource of day:
Like this, its beam prolific and refin'd,
Feeds, warms, infpirits, and exalts the mind; 490
Mildly difpels each wint'ry Paffion's gloom,
And opens all the Virtues into bloom.

This Praife, immortal POPE, to thee be giv'n:
Thy Genius was indeed a Gift from Heav'n.
Hail, Bard unequal'd, in whofe deathlefs line 495
Reason and Wit with ftrength collected shine;
Where matchlefs Wit but wins the second praise,
Loft, nobly lost, in Truth's fuperior blaze.

Did FRIENDSHIP e'er mislead thy wand'ring Mufe?
That Friendship fure may plead the great excufe:
That facred Friendship which infpir'd thy Song,
Fair in defect, and amiably wrong.

Error like this ev'n Truth can scarce reprove; 'Tis almoft Virtue when it flows from Love.

506

Ye deathless Names, ye Sons of endless praise, By Virtue crown'd with never-fading bays! Say, fhall an artless Muse, if you inspire, Light her pale lamp at your immortal fire ? Or if, O WARBURTON, infpir'd by You, The daring Mufe a nobler path pursue, By You infpir'd, on trembling pinions foar, The facred founts of focial bliss explore, In her bold numbers chain the Tyrant's rage, And bid her Country's glory fire her page:

510

If fuch her fate, do thou, fair Truth, defcend, 515
And watchful guard her in an honest end:
Kindly fevere, inftruct her equal line

To court no Friend, nor own a Foe but thine.
But if her giddy eye fhould vainly quit

Thy facred paths, to run the maze of wit;
If her apoftate heart should e'er incline
To offer incenfe at Corruption's fhrine;

520

Urge, urge thy pow'r, the black attempt confound,
And dash the fmoaking Cenfer to the ground.
Thus aw'd to fear, inftructed Bards may fee, 525
That Guilt is doom'd to fink in Infamy.

ΑΝ

ESSAY

Ο Ν

MAN:

то

H. ST. JOHN, L. Bolingbroke,

DESIG N.

H

AVING proposed to write fome pieces on Human Life and Manners, fuch as (to ufe my lord Bacon's expreffion) come home to Mens Business and Bofoms, I thought it more fatisfactory to begin with confidering Man in the abstract, his Nature and his State; fince, to prove any moral Duty, to enforce any moral precept, or to examine the perfection or imperfection of any creature whatfoever, it is neceffary first to know what condition and relation it is placed in, and what is the proper end and purpose of its being.

The fcience of Human Nature is, like all other sciences, reduced to a few clear points: There are not many certain truths in this world. It is therefore in the Anatomy of the mind as in that of the Body; more good will accrue to mankind by attending to the large, open, and perceptible parts, than by studying too much fuch finer nerves and veffels, the conformations and ufes of which will for ever efcape our obfervation. The disputes are all upon thefe laft, and I will venture to say, they have less sharpened the wits than the hearts of men against each other, and have diminished the practice, more than advanced the theory, of Morality. If I could flatter myself that this Effay has any merit, it is in fteering betwixt the extremes of doctrines seemingly oppofite, in paffing over terms utterly unintelligible, and in forming a temperate yet not inconfiftent, and a short yet not imperfect fyftem of Ethics.

This I might have done in profe; but I chofe verfe, and even rhyme, for two reafons. The one will appear obvious; that principles, maxims, or precepts fo written, both strike the reader more ftrongly at firft, and are more eafily retained by him afterwards: The other may feem odd, but is true, I found