True, some are open, and to all men known;Others so very close, they're hid from none (So darkness strikes the sense no less than light), Thus gracious Chandos is beloved at sight;And every child hates Shylock, though his soul Still sits at squat, and peeps not from its hole.
At half mankind when generous Manly raves, All know 'tis virtue, for he thinks them knaves:
When universal homage Umbra pays, All see 'tis vice, and itch of vulgar praise.
When flattery glares, all hate it in a queen, While one there is who charms us with his spleen.
But these plain characters we rarely find;Though strong the bent, yet quick the turns of mind:
Or puzzling contraries confound the whole;Or affectations quite reverse the soul.
The dull, flat falsehood serves for policy;And in the cunning, truth itself's a lie:
Unthought-of frailties cheat us in the wise;The fool lies hid in inconsistencies.
See the same man, in vigour, in the gout;Alone, in company; in place, or out;
Early at business, and at hazard late;
Mad at a fox-chase, wise at a debate;
Drunk at a borough, civil at a ball;
Friendly at Hackney, faithless at Whitehall.
Catius is ever moral, ever grave, Thinks who endures a knave is next a knave, Save just at dinner--then prefers, no doubt, A rogue with venison to a saint without.
Who would not praise Patritio's high desert, His hand unstained, his uncorrupted heart, His comprehensive head! all interests weighed, All Europe saved, yet Britain not betrayed.
He thanks you not, his pride is in piquet, Newmarket-fame, and judgment at a bet.
What made (say Montagne, or more sage Charron)Otho a warrior, Cromwell a buffoon?
A perjured prince a leaden saint revere, A godless regent tremble at a star?
The throne a bigot keep, a genius quit, Faithless through piety, and duped through wit?
Europe a woman, child, or dotard rule, And just her wisest monarch made a fool?
Know, God and Nature only are the same:
In man, the judgment shoots at flying game, A bird of passage! gone as soon as found, Now in the moon, perhaps, now under ground.
In vain the sage, with retrospective eye, Would from the apparent what conclude the why, Infer the motive from the deed, and show, That what we chanced was what we meant to do.
Behold! if fortune or a mistress frowns, Some plunge in business, others shave their crowns:
To ease the soul of one oppressive weight, This quits an empire, that embroils a state:
The same adust complexion has impelled Charles to the convent, Philip to the field.
Not always actions show the man: we find Who does a kindness, is not therefore kind;Perhaps prosperity becalmed his breast, Perhaps the wind just shifted from the east:
Not therefore humble he who seeks retreat, Pride guides his steps, and bids him shun the great:
Who combats bravely is not therefore brave, He dreads a death-bed like the meanest slave:
Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise, His pride in reasoning, not in acting lies.
But grant that actions best discover man;Take the most strong, and sort them as you can.
The few that glare each character must mark;You balance not the many in the dark.
What will you do with such as disagree?
Suppress them, or miscall them policy?
Must then at once (the character to save)The plain rough hero turn a crafty knave?
Alas! in truth the man but changed his mind, Perhaps was sick, in love, or had not dined.
Ask why from Britain Caesar would retreat?
Caesar himself might whisper he was beat.
Why risk the world's great empire for a punk?
Caesar perhaps might answer he was drunk.
But, sage historians! 'tis your task to prove One action conduct; one, heroic love.
'Tis from high life high characters are drawn;A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn;A judge is just, a chancellor juster still;A gownman, learn'd; a bishop, what you will;Wise, if a minister; but, if a king, More wise, more learned, more just, more everything.
Court-virtues bear, like gems, the highest rate, Born where Heaven's influence scarce can penetrate:
In life's low vale, the soil the virtues like, They please as beauties, here as wonders strike.
Though the same sun with all-diffusive rays Blush in the rose, and in the diamond blaze, We prize the stronger effort of his power, And justly set the gem above the flower.
'Tis education forms the common mind;
Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.
Boastful and rough, your first son is a squire;The next a tradesman, meek, and much a liar;Tom struts a soldier, open, bold, and brave;Will sneaks a scrivener, an exceeding knave:
Is he a Churchman? then he's fond of power:)A Quaker? sly: A Presbyterian? sour: )A smart Freethinker? all things in an hour.)Ask men's opinions: Scoto now shall tell How trade increases, and the world goes well;Strike off his pension, by the setting sun, And Britain, if not Europe, is undone.
That gay Freethinker, a fine talker once, What turns him now a stupid silent dunce?
Some god, or spirit he has lately found:
Or chanced to meet a minister that frowned.
Judge we by Nature? habit can efface, Interest o'ercome, or policy take place:
By actions? those uncertainty divides:
By passions? these dissimulation hides:
Opinions? they still take a wider range:
Find, if you can, in what you cannot change.
Manners with fortunes, humours turn with climes, Tenets with books, and principles with times.
Search then the ruling passion: there, alone, The wild are constant, and the cunning known;The fool consistent, and the false sincere;Priests, princes, women, no dissemblers here.
This clue once found, unravels all the rest, The prospect clears, and Wharton stands confest.
Wharton, the scorn and wonder of our days, Whose ruling passion was the lust of praise:
Born with whate'er could win it from the wise, Women and fools must like him or he dies;Though wondering senates hung on all he spoke, The club must hail him master of the joke.
Shall parts so various aim at nothing new!
He'll shine a Tully and a Wilmot too.
