So, cast and mingled with his very frame,
The Mind's disease, its RULING PASSIỚN came ;
Each vital humour which should feed the whole,
Soon flows to this, in body and in soul :
Whatever warms the heart, or fills the head,
As the mind opens, and its functions spread,
Imagination plies her dang'rous art,
And all upon


peccant part. Nature its mother, Habit is its nurse; 145 Wit, Spirit, Faculties, but make it worfe; Reason itself but gives it edge and pow'r ; As Heav'n’s bieft beam turns vinegar more fow'r.

We, wretched subjects tho' to lawful fway, In this weak queen, some fav'rite still obey : 150 Ah! if she 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 accuser, but a helpless friend! Or from a judge turn pleader, to persuade 155 The choice we make, or justify it made; Proud of an easy conquest all along, She but removes weak passions for the ftrong: So, when small humours gather to a gout, The doctor fancies he has driv'n them out.

160 es, Nature's road must ever be prefer’d; Reason is here no guide, but still a guard ; 'Tis hers 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 lev'ral ends :
Like varying winds, by other paffions toft,
This drives them constant to a certain coast.
Let pow'r or knowledge, gold or glory, please,
Or (oft more strong than all) the love of ease; 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 Reason on their side.

Th’ Eternal Art educing good from ill, 175
Grafts on this passion our best principle :
'Tis thus the Mercury of Man is fix’d,
Strong grows the Virtue with his nature mix'd ;
The dross cements what else were too refin'd,
And in one int'rest body acts with mind. 18a

As fruits, ungrateful to the planter's care, On favage stocks inserted, learn to bear; The surest virtues thus from Passions shoot, Wild Nature's vigor working at the root. What crops of wit and honesty appear 185 Fron spleen, from obstinacy, hate, or fear! See anger, zeal and fortitude supply ; Ev'n av’rice, prudence ; sloth, philosophy ; Luft, thro' fome certain strainers well refin'd, Is gentle love, and charms all womankind; 190 Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a slave, Is emulation in the learn'd or brave;

Nor Virtue, male cr 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 :
Rcafon the byas turns to good from ill,
And Nero reign a Titus, if he will.
The fiery foul abhor'd in Catiline,
In Decius charms, in Curtius is divine:

The same ambition can destroy or save,
And makes a patriot as it makes a knave,

This light and darkness in our chaos join'd,
What shall divide? The God within the mind.


VER. 204. The God within the mind.) A Platonic phrase

After ver. 194. in the MS.

How oft, with Passion, 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 Thce.
Hard task, cries Bibulus, and reason weak.
- Make it a point, dear Marquers, or a pique.
Once, for a whim, persuade yourself to pay
A debr to reason, like a debt at play.
For right or wrong, have mortals suffer'd more?
B- for his Prince, or ** for his Whore ?
Whose felf-denials nature most controul ?
His, who would save a Sixpence, or his Soul ?
Web for his health, a Chartreux for his Sin,
Contend they not which sooneft shall grow thin?
What we resolve, we can: but here's the fault,
We ne'er resolve to do the thing we ought.


Extremes in Nature equal ends produce, 205 5 In Man they join to some mysterious use ;

Tho' each by turns the other's bounds invade,
As; in some well-wrought picture, light and shade,
And oft so mix, the dif'rence is too nice
Where ends the Virtue, or begins the Vice. 210

Fools! who from hence into the notion fall,
That Vice cr Virtue there is none at all.
If white and black blend, soften, and unite
A thousand ways, is there no black or white
Ask your own heart, and nothing is so plain; 215
'Tis to mistake them, costs the time and pain.

Vice is a monster of fo frightful mein,
As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ;
Yet feen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.


for Conscience; and here employed with great judgment and
propriety. For Conscience either signifies, fpeculatively, the
judgment we pass of things upon whatever principles we
chance to have ; and then it is only (pinion, a very unable
judge and divider. Or else it fignifies, practically, the ap-
plication of the eternal rule of right (received by us as the
law of God) to the regulation of our actions; and then it is
properly Conscience, tbe God (or the law of God) within the
mind, of power to divide the light from the darkness in this
chaos of the passions.

After ver. 220. in the first Edition followed there,

A Cheat! a Whore! who starts not at the name,
In all the Inns of Court or Drury-lane?

But where th’ Extreme of Vice, was ne'er agreed :
Ask where's the North? at York, 'tis on the Tweed;
In Scotland, at the Orcades; and there,
At Greenland, Zemble, or the Lord knows where.
No creature owns it in the first degree,

But thinks his neighbour further gone than he ;
Ev'n those who dwell beneath its very zone,
Or never feel the rage, or never own;
What happier natures shrink at with affright,
The hard inhabitant contends is right.

230 Virtuous and vicious ev'ry Man must be, Few in th' exti eme, but all in the degree ; The

rogue and fool by fits is fair and wise ; And ev'n the best, by fits, what they despise. 'Tis but by parts we follow good or ill; 235 For, Vice or Virtue, Self directs it still ; Each individual seeks a sev'ral goal; Eat Heav'n's great view is One, and that the Whole, That counter-works each folly and caprice; That disappoints th' effect of ev'ry vice; 240 That, happy frailties to all ranks apply'd; Shame to the virgin, to the matron pride,

After ver. 226. in the MS.

The Col'nel swears the Agent is a dog,
The Scriv'ner vows th' Attorney is a rogue,
Against the Thief th’ Attorney loud inveighs,
For whose ten pound the County twenty pays,
The Thief damns Judges, and the Knaves of State ;
And dying, mourns small Villians hang'd by great,

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