But it is not their pity, but their admiration, that is the subject in question: and it was for no slight cause they admired; it was to see a mortal Man unfold the whole law of Nature: which, by the way, might have shewn the Translator, that the Poet was speaking of real science in the foregoing paragraph. Nor was it Mr. Pope's intention to bring any of the ape's qualities, but its sagacity, into the comparison. But why the ape's, it may be said, rather than the sagacity of some more decent animal; particularly the half-reasoning elephant, as the Poet calls it, which, as well on account of this its superiority, as for its having no ridiculous side, like the ape, on which it could be viewed, seems better to have deserved this honour? I reply, because as none but a shape resembling human, accompanied with great sagacity, could occasion the doubt of that animal's relation to Man, the ape only having that resemblance, no other animal was fitted for the comparison. And on this ground of relation the whole beauty of the thought depends; Newton, and those superior Beings being equally immortal spirits, though of different orders. And here let me take notice of a new species of the sublime, of which our Poet may be justly said to be the maker; so new that we have yet no name for it, though of a nature distinct from every other poetical excellence. The two great perfections of works of genius are wit and sublimity. Many writers have been witty, several have been sublime, and some few have even possessed both these qualities separately. But none that I know of, besides our Poet, hath had the art to incorporate them. Of which he hath given many examples, both in this Essay, and in his other Poems. One of the noblest being the passage in question. This seems to be the last effort of the imagination, to poetical perfection. And in this compounded excellence the wit receives a dignity from the sublime, and the sublime a splendour from the wit; which, in their state of separate existence, they both wanted. To return, this mistake seems to have led both the Translator and Commentator into a much worse; into a strange imagination that Mr. Pope had here reflecter upon Sir Isaac Newton's moral character; which th Poet was as far from doing, as the philosopher was from deserving: for, After Mr. Pope had shewn, by this illustrious instance, that a great genius might make prodigious advances in the knowledge of nature, and at the same time remain very ignorant of himself, he gives a reason for it-In all other sciences the understanding has no opposite principle to cloud and bias it; but in the knowledge of Man, the passions obscure as fast as reason can clear up. Could he, whose rules the rapid comet bind, Here we see, at the fifth line, the Poet turns from Newton, and speaks of Man and his nature in general. But the Translator applies all that follows to that philosopher : Toi qui jusques aux cieux oses porter ta vue, On which the Commentator thus candidly remarks; "It is not to be disputed, but that whatever progress a great genius hath made in science, he deserves rather "censure than applause, if he has spent that time in "barren speculations, curious indeed, but of little use, "which he should have employed to know himself, his * Sir Isaac Newton in calculating the velocity of a comet's motion, and the course it describes, when it becomes visible in its descent to, and ascent from the sun, conjectured, with the highest appearance of truth, that they revolve perpetually round the sun, in ellipses, vastly eccentrical, and very nearly approaching to parabolas. In which he was greatly confirmed, in observing between two comets a coincidence in their perihelions, and a perfect agreement in their velocities. 66 'beginning "beginning and his end, and how to regulate his con"duct; and if, instead of that candour and humanity, "and desire to oblige, virtues so becoming our nature, he "be overrun with ambition, envy, and a rage of pre"heminence, whose violence and rancour are attended "with the most scandalous effects, of which there are too many instances; vices which Mr. Newton lived "and died an entire stranger to*." I have transcribed this passage to expose the malignant motives the Commentator appears to have had in writing against the Essay on Man. As to the Translator, it would be indeed harder to know what motives he could have in translating it, for it is plain he did not understand it. Yet this is he who tells us, that the Author of the Essay has not formed his plan with all the regularity of method which it might have admitted; that he was obliged to follow a different method; for that the French are not satisfied with sentiments however beautiful, unless they be methodically disposed, method being the characteristic that distinguishes their performances from those of their neighbours. Thus neither did the Critic, nor Translator, suspect (and never were poor men so miserably bit) that Those oft' are stratagems which errors seem, The poetical Translator could not imagine so great a Poet would pique himself upon close reasoning; and the fastidious philosopher, of course, concluded, that a man of so much wit could hardly reason well; so neither of them gave a proper attention to the Poet's system. A system logically close, though wrote in verse, and complete, though studiously concise: this second Epistle particularly (the subject of the present Letter) containing the truest, clearest, shortest, and consequently the best account of the origin, use, and end of the passions, that is, in my opinion, any where to be met with. Which I now proceed to consider, in the same strict manner I have scrutinized the Introduction. For our Poet's works want nothing but to be fairly examined by the severest rules of logic and good philosophy, to become Commentaire, p. 147. as as illustrious for their sense, as they have long been for their wit and poetry. I go on therefore to the body of the discourse; which, as plain as it is, I find Mr. De Crousaz has made a shift (though extremely free with his insinuations of irreligion and Spinozism) to mistake from end to end. So true is the old saying, Homine imperito nihil est iniquius. The Poet having thus shewn the difficulty attending the study of Man, proceeds to our assistance in laying before us the elements or true principle of this science, in an account of the origin, use, and end, of the passions. He begins [from 1. 42 to 49] with pointing out the two grand principles in human nature, SELF-LOVE and REASON. Describes their general nature: the first sets Man upon acting, the other regulates his action. However, these principles are natural, not moral: and, therefore, in themselves, neither good nor bad; but so, only as they are directed. Nor this a good, nor that a bad we call, Each works its end, to move or govern all; Ascribe all good, to their improper ill. This observation is made with great judgment, in opposition to the desperate folly of those fanatics, who, as the ascetic, pretend to eradicate self-love; as the mystic, would stifle reason; and both, on the absurd fancy of their being moral, not natural principles. The Poet proceeds [from 1. 48 to 57] more minutely to mark out the distinct offices of these two principles, which he had before assigned only in general; and here he shews their necessity; for without self-love, as the spring, Man would be unactive, and without reason, as the balance, active to no purpose.. Fixt like a plant on his peculiar spot, Having thus explained the ends and offices of each principle, he goes on [from 1. 56 to 69] to speak of their qualities and shews how they are fitted to discharge those functions, and answer their respective intentions, The The business of self-love being to excite to action, it is quick and impetuous; and moving instinctively, has, like attraction, its force prodigiously increased as the object approaches, and proportionably lessened as that recedes. On the contrary, reason, like the author of attraction, is always calm and sedate, and equally preserves itself, whether the object be near, or far off. Hence the moving principle is made more strong; though the restraining be more quick-sighted. The consequence he draws from this is, that, if we would not be carried away to our destruction, we must always keep reason upon guard. But it would be objected, that if this account be true, human life would be most miserable, and, even in the wisest, a perpetual conflict between reason and the passions. To this therefore the Poet replies [from 1. 68 to 71.] First, that Providence has so graciously contrived, that even in the voluntary exercise of reason, as in the mere mechanic motion of a limb, habit makes that, which was at first done with pain, easy and natural. And, secondly, that the experience gained by the long exercise of reason goes a great way towards eluding the force of self-love. Now, the attending to reason, as here recommended, will gain' us this habit and experience. Attention, habit and experience gains; Each strengthens reason, and self-love restrains. Hence it appears, that this station in which reason is to be kept constantly upon guard, is not so uneasy a one as may be at first imagined. From this description of self-love and reason it follows, as the Poet observes [from 1. 70 to 83] that both conspire to one end, namely, human happiness, though they be not equally expert in the choice of the means; the difference being this, that the first hastily seizes every thing which has the appearance of good; the other weighs and examines whether it be indeed what it appears. This shews, as he next observes, the folly of the schoolmen, who consider them as two opposite principles, the one good, and the other ill: the observation is seasonable and judicious; for this dangerous school-opinion gives great support to the Manichean or Zoroastran error, the confutation of which was one of the Author's chief ends |