# An Essay on Man/Chapter 3

AN
ESSAY
ON
MAN.
EPISTLE. I
AWAKE, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man; 5 A mighty maze! but not without a plan; A wild, where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot, Or garden tempting with forbidden fruit. Together let us beat this ample field, Try what the open, what the covert yield; 10 The latent tracts, the giddy heights explore Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar; Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise;
Laugh where we must, be candid where we can, 15 But vindicate the ways of God to man. Say first, of God above, or man below, What can we reason but from what we know? Of man what see we, but his station here, From which to reason, or to which refer? 20 Thro' worlds unnumber'd, tho' the God be known, 'Tis ours to trace him only in our own. He, who thro' vast immensity can pierce,
See worlds on worlds compose one universe, Observe how system into system runs, 25 What other planets circle other suns, What varied being peoples ev'ry star, May tell why heaven has made us as we are: But of this frame the bearings, and the ties, The strong connections, nice dependencies, 30 Gradations just, has thy pervading soul Look'd thro'? Or can a part contain the whole? Is the great chain that draws all to agree, And drawn supports, upheld by God, or thee? Presumpt'ous man! the reason wouldst thou find, 35 Why form'd so weak, so little, and so blind! First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess, Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no less! Ask of thy mother earth, why oakes are made Taller or stronger than the weeds they shade? 40 Or ask of yonder argent fields above, Why Jove's satellites are less than Jove?
Of systems possible, if 'tis confest, That wisdom infinite must form the best, Where all must full, or not coherent be, 45 And all that rises, rise in due degree; Then, in the scale of reas'ning life, 'tis plain, There must be, somewhere, such a rank as man: And all the question (wrangle e'er so long) Is only this, 'If God has placed him wrong!' 50 Respecting man, whatever wrong we call, May, must be right, as relative to all. In human works, tho' labour'd on with pain, A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain; In God's one single can its end produce, 55 Yet serve to second too some other use. So man, who here seems principal alone, Perhaps acts second to some spheres unknown, Touches some wheel, or verges to some goal; 'Tis but a part we see, and not a whole. 60 When the proud steed shall know why man restrains His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains; When the dull ox, why now he breaks the clod, Is now a victim, and now Ægypt's god: Then shall man's pride and dulness comprehend 65 His actions', passions', being's, use and end; Why doing, suff'ring, check'd, impell'd; and why This hour a slave, the next a deity. Then say not, Man's imperfect, heav'n in fault; Say rather, Man's as perfect as he ought; 70
His knowledge measur'd to his state and place, His time a moment, and a point his space. If to be perfect in a certain sphere, What matter soon or late, or here or there? The bless'd to-day is as completely so, 75 As who began a thousand years ago. Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescrib'd, their present state, From brutes what men, from men what spirits know, Or who could suffer being here below? 80 The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason would he skip and play? Pleas'd to the last he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood. Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n, 85 That each may fill the circle mark'd by heav'n; Who sees, with equal eye, as God of all, A hero perish, or a sparrow fall, Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd, And now a bubble burst, and now a world? 90 Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar; Wait the great teacher death, and God adore! What future bliss he gives not thee to know, But gives that hope to be thy blessing now. Hope springs eternal in the human breast: 95 Man never is, but always to be bless'd; The soul uneasy, and confined from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind; 100 His soul proud science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk, or milky way; Yet simple nature to his hope has giv'n, Behind the cloud-top'd hill, an humbler heav'n; Some safer world in depth of woods embrac'd, 105 Some happier Island in the wat'ry waste, Where slaves once more their native land behold, No fiends torment, no christians thirst for gold! To be contents his natural desire, He asks no angel's wing, no seraph's fire; 110 But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company. Go, wiser thou! and in thy scale of sense Weigh thy opinion against providence; Call imperfection what thou fancy'st such, 115 Say, here he gives too little, there too much; Destroy all creatures for thy sport or gust, Yet cry, if man's unhappy, God's unjust; If man alone engross not heaven's high care, Alone made perfect here, immortal there, 120 Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod, Rejudge his Justice, be the god of God! In pride, in reas'ning pride, our error lies; All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies. Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes, 125 Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Aspiring to be gods if angels fell, Aspiring to be angels men rebel; And who but wishes to invert the laws Of order, sins against th' eternal cause. 130 Ask for what end the heav'nly bodies shine, Earth for whose use. Pride answers, ''Tis for mine: For me kind nature wakes her genial pow'r, Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry flow'r; Annual, for me, the grape, the rose renew 135 The juice nectareous and the balmy dew; For me the mine a thousand treasures brings; For me health gushes from a thousand springs; Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise; My footstool earth, my canopy the skies.' 140 But errs not nature from this gracious end, From burning suns when livid deaths descend, When earthquakes swallow, or when tempests sweep Towns to one grave, whole nations to the deep? 'No ('tis reply'd) the first almighty cause 145 Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral laws; Th' exceptions few, some change, since all began, And what created perfect?'——Why then man? If the great end be human happiness, Then nature deviates; and can man do less? 150 As much that end a constant course requires Of show'rs and sun-shine, as of man's desires; As much eternal springs and cloudless skies, As men for ever temp'rate, calm, and wise,
If plagues or earthquakes break not heav'n's design, Why then a Borgia, or a Cataline? 156 Who knows but he, whose hand the light'ning forms, Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms, Pours fierce ambition in a Cæsar's mind, Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind? 160 From pride, from pride, our very reas'ning springs; Account for moral, as for nat'ral things; Why charge we heav'n in those, in these acquit? In both to reason right is to submit. Better for us, perhaps, it might appear, 165 Were there all harmony, all virtue here; That never air or ocean felt the wind, That never passion discompos'd the mind; But all subsists by elemental strife; And passions are the elements of life. 170 The gen'ral order, since the whole began, Is kept in nature, and is kept in man. What would this man? Now upward will he soar, And, little less than angel, would be more; Now looking downwards, just as griev'd appears 175 To want the strength of bulls, the fur of bears. Made for his use all creatures if he call, Say, what their use had he the pow'rs of all? Nature to these, without profusion kind, The proper organs, proper pow'rs assign'd; 180 Each seeming want compensated of course, Here with degrees of swiftness, there of force;
All in exact proportion to the state; Nothing to add, and nothing to abate. Each beast, each insect, happy in its own; 185 Is heav'n unkind to man, and man alone? Shall he alone, whom rational we call, Be pleas'd with nothing, if not bless'd with all? The bliss of man, (could pride that blessing find) Is not to act or think beyond mankind; 190 No pow'rs of body or of souls to share, But what his nature and his state can bear. Why has not man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, man is not a fly. Say what the use, were finer opticks giv'n, 195 T'inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n? Or touch, if, tremblingly alive all o'er, To smart and agonize at ev'ry pore? Or quick effluvia darting thro' the brain, Die of a rose in aromatick pain? 200 If nature thunder'd in his op'ning ears, And stunn'd him with the musick of the spheres, How would he wish that heav'n had left him still The whisp'ring zephyr, and the purling rill? Who finds not providence all good and wise, 205 Alike in what it gives, and what denies? Far as creation's ample range extends, The scale of sensual, mental pow'rs ascends: Mark how it mounts to man's imperial race, From the green myriads in the peopled grass: 210
What modes of sight betwixt each wide extreme, The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam; Of smell the headlong lioness between, And hound sagacious on the tainted green: Of hearing, from the life that fills the flood, 215 To that which warbles thro' the vernal wood: The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line: In the nice bee what sense so subtly true, From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew; 220 How instinct varies in the grov'ling swine, Compar'd, half-reas'ning elephant, with thine! 'Twixt that and reason what a nice barrier; For ever sep'rate, yet for ever near! Remembrance and reflection how ally'd; 225 What thin partitions sense from thought divide; And middle natures how they long to join, Yet never pass th' insuperable line! Without this just gradation, could they be Subjected these to those, or all to thee? 230 The pow'rs of all subdu'd by thee alone, Is not thy reason all these pow'rs in one? See thro' the air, this ocean, and this earth, All matter quick, and bursting into birth. Above, how high progressive life may go! 235 Around, how wide! how deep extend below! Vast chain of being, which from God began, Natures ethereal, human, angel, man,
Beast, bird, fish, insect! what no Eye can see, No glass can reach! from infinite to thee, 240 From thee to nothing——On superior pow'rs Were we to press, inferior might on ours; Or in the full creation leave a void, Where, one step broken, the great scale's destroy'd: From nature's chain whatever link you strike, 245 Tenth, or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike. And if each system in gradation roll, Alike essential to th' amazing whole; The least confusion but in one, not all That system only, but the whole must fall. 250 Let earth unbalanc'd from her orbit fly, Planets and suns run lawless thro' the sky, Let ruling angels from their spheres be hurl'd, Being on being wreck'd, and world on world, Heav'n's whole foundations to their centre nod, 255 And nature tremble to the throne of God: All this dread order break——For whom? for thee? Vile worm!——oh madness! pride! impiety! What if the foot, ordain'd the dust ⟨to⟩ tread, Or hand to toil, aspir'd to be the head? 260 What if the head, the eye or ear repin'd To serve mere engines to the ruling mind? Just as absurd for any part to claim To be another in this general frame: Just as absurd to mourn the tasks or pains, 265 The great directing mind of all ordains.
All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body nature is and God the soul; That chang'd thro' all, and yet in all the same, Great in the earth as in the ethereal frame, 270 Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees, Lives thro' all life, extends thro' all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent, Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, 275 As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns, As the rapt seraph that adores and burns; To him no high, no low, no great, no small; He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all, 280 Cease then, nor order imperfection name; Our proper bliss depends on what we blame. Know thy own point; this kind, this due degree Of blindness, weakness, heav'n bestows on thee. Submit.———In this, or any other sphere, 285 Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear: Safe in the hand of one disposing pow'r, Or in the natal, or the mortal hour. All nature is but art unknown to thee; All chance direction, which thou canst not see; 290 All discord harmony not understood; All partial evil universal good; And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear, 'Whatever is, is right.'
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