University of Virginia Library

Since Knaves are captious, and since Fools are dull,
Who'd wish to wrangle with a Knave or Fool?
Fond of his Notions, let the Dunce be vain,
And his just Right to Emptiness maintain.
Stiff and conceited in his clumsey Pride,
And ever loudest on the erring Side;
By stupid Hearsay, not by Knowledge led,
Whole Heaps of vulgar Errors crowd his Head:
His Judgment too (for nought he understands)
Lies, like his Money, in some other Hands:
And yet the Self-admiring, silly Ass,
Conceits that both alike should current pass:
Some crony Coxcomb o'er his Foible reigns,
From whom he borrows what supplies his Brains
With Sentiments absurd, and silly Views,
Which he with Pride precipitate pursues.

Such senseless Sots are ever rapid found,
Like Bodies bounding from a higher Ground:
Their headlong Haste slow trundling to a Stand
Is ever equal to th'impressive Hand;
Who meerly passive to Direction's Force,
One follows one, as Horse is link'd to Horse;
Alternate tread the beaten Track they find,
The Father leads, the Son comes on behind,
And both are burthen'd still, and both are blind.
Whence comes this Prejudice that rules the Throng,
So absolute confounding Right with Wrong?
Is it from Fathers to their Sons effus'd,
Or is it Custom has the World abus'd?

Custom, that Reason's Foe, so oft appears,
Strengthen'd by Age, and rev'rend made by Years:
The hoary Sorceress with Magic Hand,
Inchants whole Millions to her wide Command.
Lo! gaping Multitudes her Nod attend,
Revere her Dictates, and her Laws defend.
Where Truth, dethron'd, to silent Shades must fly,
And Reason close her clear discerning Eye;
The Goddess, banish'd from this peopl'd Ball,
By few is worshipp'd, and prophan'd by all.
Ten thousand various Shapes her Vot'ries wear;
The Shapes as various as the Vot'ries are.
Yet each with partial Pride his own surveys,
'Tis Reason's Liv'ry, and must Reason please
He vainly thinks: For so Self-love descries
The tinsel Trappings with extatic Eyes,
Whose dazzl'd Rays imagin'd Splendors find,
Where Fancy glitters, and where Sense is blind.

Tho' Truth's a Sun, tho' Reason lends its Light,
Yet groping Mortals wander still in Night:
Such Fogs from Custom, and from Passions rise,
Which daily cloud their intellectual Skies.
Seduc'd by Pride, the Sons of Men are led:
Pride rules the Heart, and Pride supplies the Head.
'Tis hence the Atheist scoffs at Faith and Creeds;
The Sage dies poring, and the Soldier bleeds:
Hence wicked Wits would laugh Religion down,
And surly Churchmen wear th'indignant Frown.
Pride o'er the Passions holds despotic Rule,
Sneers in the Knave, and whispers in the Fool,
Deck'd in rich Robes with princely Pomp she dwells,
Yet lurks she not with Hermits in their Cells?
The same which mounts the glitt'ring Persian Throne,
And creeps with cavern'd Anchorites unknown.
In some she labours Life's short Course to steer,
Sound the flat Shelves, and from the Rocks keep clear:
A decent Pride through op'ning Seas will sail,
Scorn the By-creek, and court the gen'rous Gale.
'Tis virtuous there, for Virtue fix'd the Bound,
'Tis vicious here, for Vice o'erleap'd the Mound.
Extremes with equal Energy conspire,
Like scorching Qualities of Frost and Fire,
Happy the few, which in the Middle stand,
A rigid Justice leans to neither Hand,
But nicely eyes when this or that prevails,
And ponders Life in Truth's unerring Scales.

Could Worth and Wisdom act a mutual Part,
Serene the Head, and social were the Heart;
Were Man a private and a public Friend,
And of his Being answer'd ev'ry End,
His Wishes free from ev'ry sensual Chain,
His Thoughts unruffl'd, and his Soul serene,
Bless'd to enjoy what calm Content bestows,
Nor dreading still that calm Content to lose;
A State so blissful Mortals ne'er must know:
Who seeks an Eden finds a Waste below.
Look round, alas! the dismal Prospect scan,
This Sea tempestuous, and that Vessel, Man,
Toss'd by his Wishes, by his Passions driv'n,
This Wretch of Reason, and this Heir of Heav'n,
In giddy Whirls can find no certain Coast,
His Pilot blinded, and his Steerage lost.
Since hateful Vice in every Clime is found,
Shoot in each Soil, and choaks the burthen'd Ground,
Infects the Essence of the human Soul,
And sheds her spreading Plagues from Pole to Pole.
Can then strict Order with Confusion stay,
Or mortal Man th'eternal Rule obey?
By Nature prone, he takes the strongest Part,
And joins the Rebel Motions in his Heart;
Revolting daily to th'intestine Foes;
What Precepts can the faithless Heart oppose?
Should mild Religion lend her sacred Hand,
To raise the sinking Wretch, and bid him stand;
Yet even she all-gracious and benign,
Must weep defeated, and her Claim resign:
So strong is Nature, and so weak is Grace,
So much misguided is this reas'ning Race.
Tho' Folly has the madding World o'er-run;
Yet Wisdom here and there has sav'd a Son,
Selected sure by Heav'ns peculiar Love,
To brighten Nature, and to shine above;
As Stars of larger Magnitude on high,
The Earth enlighten, and adorn the Sky.
Thus Plato glitter'd, God-like Newton shone,
Thus Bacon once, and once an Addison.
Illustrious Names! by Providence design'd
To beam its Bounty, and direct Mankind.
A thousand lesser Lights in Life appear
Distinguish'd high in Nature's Hemisphere,
Hung out by Heav'n to guide our Course below,
Correct our Wand'rings, and our Safeties show,
Whose Lustre much, but whose true Progress more
Guides our frail Barks, and points to Wisdom's Shore.