That very Cæfar born in Scipio's days,
Had aim'd, like him, by Chastity at praise.
Lucullus, when Frugality could charm,
Had roafted turnips in the Sabin farm.
In vain th' observer eyes the builder's toil,
But quite mistakes the scaffold for the pile.

In this one Paffion man can ftrength enjoy,
As Fits give vigour, juft when they destroy.

COMMENTAR Y.

220

fame; but a different time had changed their fubfidiary ones of Luft and Luxury, into their very oppofites of Chastity and Frugality. 'Tis in vain therefore, fays our author, for the obferver of human nature to fix his attention on the Workman, if he all the while mistakes the Scaffold for the Building.

VER. 222. In this one Paffion &c.] But now it may be objected to our philofophic poet, that he has indeed fhewn the true means of coming to the Knowledge and Characters of men by a Principle certain and infallible, when found, yet, by his own account, of fo difficult investigation, that its Counterfeit, and it is always attended with one, may be easily mistaken for it. To

NOTES.

Characters; for they are, in reality, very different and diftinct; fo much fo, that 'tis remarkable, the three greatest men in Rome, and contemporaries, poffeffed each of these separately, without the least mixture of the other two: The men I mean were Cæfar, Cato, and Cicero: For Cæfar had Ambition without either vanity or pride; Cato had Pride without ambition or vanity; and Cicero had Vanity without pride or ambition.

VER.223. As Fits give vigour, just when they destroy.] The fimilitude is extremely appofite; as most of the instances he has afterwards given of the vigorous exertion of the Ruling Paffion in the laft moments, are from fuch who had haftened their death by an immoderate indulgence of that Paffion.

Time, that on all things lays his lenient hand,

Yet tames not this; it fticks to our last sand. 225
Confistent in our follies and cur fins,
Here honeft Nature ends as she begins.
Old Politicians chew on wisdom paft,
And totter on in bus'nefs to the last;
As weak, as earneft; and as gravely out,
As fober Lanefb'row dancing in the gout.
Behold a rev'rend fire, whom want of
Has made the father of a nameless race,

COMMENTARY.

230

grace

remove this difficulty, therefore, and confequently the objection that arifes from it, the poet has given (from 221 to 228) one certain and infallible criterion of the Ruling Paffion, which is this, that all the other paffions, in the courfe of time, change and wear away; while this is ever conftant and vigorous; and ftill going on from ftrength to ftrength, to the very moment of its demolishing the miferable machine that it has now at length over-worked. Of this great truth, the poet (from 227 to the end) gives various inftances in all the principal Ruling Paffions of our nature, as they are to be found in the Man of Business, the Man of Pleafure, the Epicure, the Parfimonious, the Toast,

NOTES.

VER. 227. Here honeft Nature ends as she begins.] Human nature is here humouroufly called honeft, as the impulse of the ruling paffion (which the gives and cherishes) makes her more and more impatient of disguise.

VER. 231. Lanefb'row.] An ancient Nobleman, who continued this practice long after his legs were difabled by the gout. Upon the death of Prince George of Denmark, he demanded an audience of the Queen, to advise her to preserve her health and difpel her grief by Dancing. P.

Shov'd from the wall perhaps, or rudely prefs'd

By his own fon, that paffes by unbless'd: 235 Still to his wench he crawls on knocking knees, And envies ev'ry sparrow that he fees.

A falmon's belly, Helluo, was thy fate; The doctor call'd, declares all help too late: "Mercy! cries Helluo, mercy on my foul! 240 "Is there no hope?-Alas!-then bring the jowl." The frugal Crone, whom praying priests attend, Still tries to fave the hallow'd taper's end, Collects her breath, as ebbing life retires, For one puff more, and in that puff expires. 245 "Odious! in woollen! 'twould a Saint provoke, (Were the last words that poor Narciffa fpoke) No, let a charming Chintz, and Bruffels lace Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face:

COMMENTARY.

Courtier, the Mifer, and the Patriot; which laft inftance the poet has had the art, under the appearance of Satire, to turn into the nobleft Compliment on the perfon to whom the Epiftle is addreffed.

NOTES.

VER. 247. the last words that poor Narciffa fpoke] This ftory, as well as the others, is founded on fact, tho' the author had the goodnefs not to mention the names. Several attribute this in particular to a very celebrated Actrefs, who, in deteftation of the thought of being buried in woollen, gave these her laft orders with her dying breath. P.

VER. 242. The frugal Crone,] A fact told him, of a Lady at Paris.

"One would not,fure, be frightful when one's dead-And-Betty-give this Cheek a little Red." The Courtier smooth, who forty years had shin'd An humble fervant to all human kind,

cr

Juft brought out this, when scarce his tongue could ftir, "If-where I'm going-I could serve you, Sir?" I give and I devise (old Euclio faid, 256 And figh'd) "my lands and tenements to Ned. Your money, Sir?" My money, Sir, what all? Why,---if I must--- (then wept) I give it Paul. "The Manor,Sir ?---"The Manor! hold, he cry'd, “Not that,---I cannot part with that”---and dy'd.

And you! brave COBHAM, to the latest breath Shall feel your ruling paffion ftrong in death: Such in those moments as in all the past,

"Oh, fave my Country, Heav'n!" fhall be your last.