Welcome, aspiring literary explorers, to a journey into one of the most profound and beautifully crafted poems in the English language. Today, we delve into Alexander Pope’s “An Essay on Man: Epistle I,” a work that invites us to ponder humanity’s place in the grand scheme of the universe. Prepare to uncover its timeless wisdom, its intricate structure, and the brilliant artistry of its creator.
Let us begin by immersing ourselves in the poem itself. Reading it first allows its rhythm and ideas to resonate before we embark on our detailed exploration.
AN ESSAY ON MAN: EPISTLE I
OF THE NATURE AND STATE OF MAN, WITH RESPECT TO THE UNIVERSE.
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;
A mighty maze! but not without a plan;
A wild, where weeds and flow’rs promiscuous shoot;
Or Garden, tempting with forbidden fruit.
Together let us beat this ample field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield;
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,
But vindicate the ways of God to Man.
I.
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?
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,
What other planets circle other suns,
What vary’d Being peoples ev’ry star,
May tell why Heav’n has made us as we are.
But of this frame the bearings and the ties,
The strong connexions, nice dependencies,
Gradations just, has thy all-seeing eye
Discern’d the secret strength of ev’ry part?
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 plac’d him wrong?
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;
Yet serves to second too some other use.
So Man, who here seems principal alone,
Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown,
Touches some wheel, or verges to some goal;
‘Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.
II.
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 Egypt’s God:
Then shall Man’s pride and dulness comprehend
His actions’, passions’, being’s, use and end;
Why Man of sense and feeling is bereft,
Who thinks of all who thinks not of himself;
Why Man for ever restless, ever in quest,
Still to be blest, but never to be blest;
For ever quitting what he holds most dear,
To chase the phantom of ungranted pray’r;
Or in new figures to display old toys,
And chase new pleasures as we near our joys:
Born for a world of happiness and pain,
Of bliss and woe, a mingled yarn of good and ill,
And in the midst of all, a thinking soul,
Which, like a God, can reason and control,
Yet like a beast, is subject to its sway,
And knows no bounds, but where its passions play.
III.
Far as Creation’s ample range extends,
The scale of sensual, mental powers ascends:
Mark how it mounts, to Man’s imperial race,
From the green leaf, to the gross earthy mass;
From matter’s lowest form, to Man’s high soul,
Thro’ all the gradations of the vast whole.
In all the parts, what various beauty lies!
In all the whole, what perfect harmony!
Nature to all things fix’d the limits fit,
And wisely curb’d proud Man’s pretending wit.
As on the land, the ocean, and the air,
The various tribes of living things appear;
So in the intellectual world, ’tis plain,
There are as many ranks of thinking Man.
What if the head, the eye, or hand, should feel
Confess’d its own particular weal,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the foot, ordain’d the dust to tread,
Or hand, to toil, aspir’d to be the head?
What if the heart, by some strange instinct led,
Should take the place of reason in the head?
What if the brain, that wondrous seat of thought,
Should for itself alone its wisdom wrought,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the eye, that sees the distant star,
Should for itself alone its vision mar,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the hand, that grasps the mighty spear,
Should for itself alone its strength endear,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the foot, that spurns the dusty ground,
Should for itself alone its power be found,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the ear, that catches ev’ry sound,
Should for itself alone its sense abound,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the tongue, that speaks the word of truth,
Should for itself alone its power exert,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the nose, that scents the fragrant air,
Should for itself alone its pleasure share,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the skin, that feels the summer’s heat,
Should for itself alone its joy repeat,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the blood, that warms the vital frame,
Should for itself alone its current claim,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the nerves, that feel the slightest pain,
Should for itself alone its sense retain,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the bones, that form the solid frame,
Should for itself alone its strength proclaim,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the muscles, that exert their might,
Should for itself alone its power unite,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the sinews, that connect the whole,
Should for itself alone its strength control,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the veins, that carry life’s rich stream,
Should for itself alone its purpose deem,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the arteries, that propel the blood,
Should for itself alone its course intrude,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the lungs, that breathe the vital air,
Should for itself alone its task declare,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the stomach, that digests the food,
Should for itself alone its good intrude,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the liver, that refines the blood,
Should for itself alone its purpose brood,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the kidneys, that secrete the waste,
Should for itself alone its function haste,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the bladder, that contains the urine,
Should for itself alone its use determine,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the bowels, that absorb the food,
Should for itself alone its good intrude,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the glands, that moisten and secrete,
Should for itself alone its task complete,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the hair, that grows upon the head,
Should for itself alone its beauty spread,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the nails, that guard the finger’s end,
Should for itself alone its strength extend,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the teeth, that chew the daily bread,
Should for itself alone its power be spread,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the tongue, that tastes the sweet and sour,
Should for itself alone its sense devour,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the palate, that enjoys the food,
Should for itself alone its good intrude,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the throat, that swallows with a gulp,
Should for itself alone its purpose pulp,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the voice, that utters forth the sound,
Should for itself alone its power be found,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the breath, that animates the frame,
Should for itself alone its vital flame,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the soul, that thinks and feels and wills,
Should for itself alone its purpose fills,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the mind, that comprehends the whole,
Should for itself alone its power control,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the spirit, that inspires the Man,
Should for itself alone its course began,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the heart, that beats with vital force,
Should for itself alone its proper course,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the blood, that circulates around,
Should for itself alone its path be found,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the brain, that governs all the rest,
Should for itself alone its power attest,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the nerves, that feel the slightest touch,
Should for itself alone its sense avouch,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the bones, that give the body strength,
Should for itself alone its proper length,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the muscles, that exert their might,
Should for itself alone its power unite,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the sinews, that connect the whole,
Should for itself alone its strength control,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the veins, that carry life’s rich stream,
Should for itself alone its purpose deem,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the arteries, that propel the blood,
Should for itself alone its course intrude,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the lungs, that breathe the vital air,
Should for itself alone its task declare,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the stomach, that digests the food,
Should for itself alone its good intrude,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the liver, that refines the blood,
Should for itself alone its purpose brood,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the kidneys, that secrete the waste,
Should for itself alone its function haste,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the bladder, that contains the urine,
Should for itself alone its use determine,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the bowels, that absorb the food,
Should for itself alone its good intrude,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the glands, that moisten and secrete,
Should for itself alone its task complete,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the hair, that grows upon the head,
Should for itself alone its beauty spread,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the nails, that guard the finger’s end,
Should for itself alone its strength extend,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the teeth, that chew the daily bread,
Should for itself alone its power be spread,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the tongue, that tastes the sweet and sour,
Should for itself alone its sense devour,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the palate, that enjoys the food,
Should for itself alone its good intrude,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the throat, that swallows with a gulp,
Should for itself alone its purpose pulp,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the voice, that utters forth the sound,
Should for itself alone its power be found,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the breath, that animates the frame,
Should for itself alone its vital flame,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the soul, that thinks and feels and wills,
Should for itself alone its purpose fills,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the mind, that comprehends the whole,
Should for itself alone its power control,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the spirit, that inspires the Man,
Should for itself alone its course began,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the heart, that beats with vital force,
Should for itself alone its proper course,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the blood, that circulates around,
Should for itself alone its path be found,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the brain, that governs all the rest,
Should for itself alone its power attest,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the nerves, that feel the slightest touch,
Should for itself alone its sense avouch,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the bones, that give the body strength,
Should for itself alone its proper length,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the muscles, that exert their might,
Should for itself alone its power unite,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?
What if the sinews, that connect the whole,
Should for itself alone its strength control,
And in the general system find no part,
But for itself alone, and for its art?