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But as the world's Sun doth effect beget

First, the two eyes, which have the secing por'r, Diff'rent, in divers places ev'ry day;

Stand as one watchman, spy, or centinel, Here autumn's temperature, there summer's heat; Being plac'd aloft, within the head's bigh tow'r;

Here flow'ry spring-tide, and there winter grey. And though both see, yet both but one thing teil. Here ev'n, there morn; here noon, there day, there These mirrors take into their little space night,

[some dead;

The forms of Moon and Sun, and ev'ry star, Melts wax, dries clay, makes flow'rs, some quick, of ev'ry body, and of ev'ry place, Makes the Moor black, the European white;

Which with the world's wide arms embraced are: Th’ American tawny, and th’ East Indian red:

Yet their best object, and their noblest use, So in our little world, this soul of ours

Hereafter in another world will be, Being only one, and to one body tyd,

When God in them shall heav'nly light infuse, Doth use, on divers objects, divers powers ;

That face to face they may their Maker see. And so are her effects diversify'd.

Here are they guides, which do the body lead,

Which else would stumble in eternal night: SECTION XII.

Here in this world they do much knowledge read,

And are the casements which admit most light: THE VEGETATIVE POWER OP THE SOUL.

They are her furthest reaching instrument, Her quick'ning power in ev'ry living part,

Yet they no beams unto their objects send; Doth as a nurse or as a mother serve;

But all the rays are from their objects sent, And doth employ her economic art,

And in the eyes with pointed angles end. And busy care, her household to preserve.

If th' objects be far off, the rays do meet Here she attracts, and there she doth retain;

In a sharp point, and so things seem but small: There she decocts, and doth the food prepare; If they be near, their rays do spread and fleet, There she distributes it to ev'ry vein,

And make broad points, that things seem great There she expels what she may fitly spare.

withal. This pow'r to Martha may compared be,

Lastly, nine things to sight required are; Who busy was, the household things to do:

The pow'r to see, the light, the visible thing, Or to a Dryas, living in a tree :

Being not too small, too thin, too nigh, ton far, For e'en to trees this pow'r is proper too.

Clear space and time, the form distinct to bring. And though the soul may not this pow'r extend Thus see we how the soul doth use the eyes, Out of the body, but still use it there;

As instruments of her quick pow'r of sight: She hath a pow'r which she abroad doth send, Hence doth th' arts, optic, and fair painting rise ;

Which views and searcheth all things ev'ry where. Painting, which doth all gentle minds delight.



This power is sense, which from abroad doth bring Now let us hear how she the ears employs:

The colour, taste, and touch, and scent, and sound, Their office is, the troubled air to take;
The quantity and shape of ev'ry thing

Which in their mazes forms a sound or noise, Within Earth's centre, or Heav'n's circle found. Whereof herself doth true distinction make. This pow'r, in parts made fit, fit objects takes; These wickets of the soul are plac'd on high,

Yet not the things, but forms of things receives; Because all sounds do lightly mount aloft ; As when a seal in wax impression makes,

And that they may not pierce too violently, The print therein, but not itself, it leaves.

They are delay'd with turns and windings oft. And though things sensible be numberless, For should the voice directly strike the brain, But only five the sense's organs be ;

It would astonish and confuse it much; And in those five, all things their forms express, Therefore these plaits and folds the sound restrain,

Which we can touch, taste, feel, or hear, or see. That it the organ way more gently touch. These are the windows; through the which she views As streams, which with their winding banks do play,

The light of knowledge, which is life's load-star: Stopp'd by their creeks, run softly through the " And yet while she these spectacles doth use, So in th' ear's labyrinth the voice doth stray, (plain:

Oft worldly things seem greater than they are.” And doth with easy motion touch the brain.


This is the slowest, yet the daintiest sense; Much like a subtle spider }, which doth sit
For e'en the ears of such as bave po skill,

In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide; Perceive a discord, and conceive offence;

If aught do touch the utmost thread of it,
And, knowing not what's good, yet find the ill. She feels it instantly on ev'ry side.
And though this sense first gentle music found, By touch, the first pure qualities we learn,
Her proper object is the speech of men;

Which quicken all things, hot, cold, moist, and dry: But that speech chiefly which God's heralds sound, By touch, hard, soft, rough, smooth, we do discern:

When their tongues utter what his spirit did pen, By touch, sweet pleasure and sharp pain we try.
Our eyes hare lids, our ears still ope we see,
Quickly to hear how er’ry tale is pror'd:

Our eyes still move, our ears unmoved be;
That though we hear quick, we be not quickly OF THE IMAGINATION, OR COMMON SENSE.

These are the outward instruments of sense;
Thus by the organs of the eye and ear,

These are the guards which ev'ry thing must pass, The soul with knowledge doth herself endue: Ere it approach the mind's intelligence, * Thus she her prison may with pleasure bear, Or touch the fantasy, wit's looking-glass. Having such prospects, all the world to view.”

And yet these porters, which all things admit, These conduit-pipes of knowledge feed the mind, Themselves perceive not, nor discern the things:

But th' other three attend the body still; One common pow'r doth in the forehead sit, For by their services the soul doth find,

Which all their proper forms together brings. What things are to the body good or ill.

For all those nerves, which spirits of sense do bear,

And to those outward organs spreading go,

United are, as in a centre, there; [know. SECTION XVI.

And there this pow'r those sundry forms doth

Those outward organs present things receive, The body's life with meats and air is fed,

This inward sense doth absent things retain; Therefore the soul doth use the tasting pow's

Yet straight transmits all forms she doth perceive, In veins, which through the tongue and palate spread,

Unto an higher region of the brain.
Distinguish ev'ry relish, sweet and sour.
This is the body's purse; but since man's wit
Found th' art of cook’ry to delight his sense,

More bodies are consum'd and kill'd with it,
Than with the sword, famine, or pestilence.

Where fantasy, near hand-maid to the mind,

Sits, and beholds, and doth discern them all ;

Compounds in one, things diff'rent in their kind; SECTION XVII.

Compares the black and white, the great and

Next, in the nostrils she doth use the smell : Besides, those single forms she doth esteem,
As God the breath of life in them did give;

And in her balance doth their values try;
So makes he now this pow'r in them to dwell,

Where some things good, and some things ill do To judge all airs, whereby we breathe and live. And neutral some, in her fantastic eye. [seem, This sense is also mistress of an art,

This busy pow'r is working day and night; Which to soft people sweet perfumes doth sell;

For when the outward senses rest do take, Though this dear art doth little good impart,

A thousand dreams, fantastical and light,
“Since they smell best, that do of nothing smell.” With futt'ring wings do keep her still awake.
And yet good scents do purify the brain,
Awake the fancy, and the wits refine:

Hence old Devotion incense did ordain,
To make men's spirits apt for thoughts divine.

Yet always all may not afore her be;

Successively she this and that intends;

Therefore such forms as she doth cease to see,

To memory's large volume she commends. LASTLY, the feeling pow'r, which is life's root,

Through ev'ry living part itself doth shed · The spider's touch bow exquisitely fine,
By sinews, which extend from head to foot;

Peels at each thread, and lives along the line. And, like a net, all o'er the body spread.

Pope's Essay on Man.





[Sect. XXII–XXVI This ledger-book lies in the brain behind, Like Janus' eye, which in his poll was set :

SECTION XXIV. The layman's tables, storehouse of the mind;

THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS OF THE SOUL Which doth remember much, and much forget.

But now I have a will, yet want a wit, Here sense's apprehension end doth take;

T'express the working of the wit and will; As when a stone is into water cast,

Which, though their root be to the body knit, One circle doth another circle make,

Use not the body, when they use their skill. Till the last circle touch the bank at last.

These pow'rs the pature of the soul declare,

For to man's soul these only proper be;

For on the Earth no other wights there are

That have these heavenly powers, but only we.

But though the apprehensive pow'r do pause,

The motive virtue then begins to move;
Which in the heart below doth passions cause,


WISDOM. Joy, grief, and fear, and hope, and hate, and love.

The wit, the pupil of the soul's clear eye, These passions have a free commanding might,

And in man's world the only shining star,
And divers actions in our life do breed;

Looks in the mirrour of the fantasy,
For all acts done without true reason's light,
Do from the passion of the sense proceed.

Where all the gath'rings of the senses are. "But since the brain doth lodge the pow'rs of sense,

From thence this pow'r the shapes of things abstracts,

And them within her passive part receives,
How makes it in the heart those passions spring ?
The mutual love, the kind intelligence

Which are enlightned by that part which acts;

And so the forms of single things perceives.
I'wixt heart and brain, this sympathy doth bring.

But after, by discoursing to and fro,
From the kind heat, which in the heart doth reign,
The spirits of life do their beginning take;

Anticipating and comparing things,
These spirits of life ascending to the brain, (make. She doth all

universal natures know,

And all effects into their causes brings.
When they come there, the spirits of sense do
These spirits of sense, in fantasy's high court,

When she rates things, and moves from ground to Judge of the forms of objects, ill or well;


The name of reason she obtains by this: And so they send a good or ill report

But when by reason she the truth hath found,
Down to the heart, where all affections dwell.

And standeth fix'd, she understanding is.
If the report be good, it causeth love,
And longing hope, and well assured joy:

When her assent she lightly doth incline
If it be ill, then doth it hatred move,

To either part, she is opinion's light: And trembling fear, and vexing griefs annoy.

But when she doth by principles define

A certain truth, she hath true judgment's sight. Yet were these natural affections good, (For they which want them, blocks or devils be)

And as from senses, reasoul's work doth spring, If reason in her first perfection stood,

So many reasons understanding gain; That she might Nature's passions rectify.

And many understandings, knowledge bring,

And by much knowledge, wisdom we obtain.

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So, many stairs we must ascend upright

Ere we attain to wisdom's high degree:
So doth this Earth eclipse our reason's light,

Which else (in instants) would like angels see.




Besides, another motive-power doth ’rise

Out of the heart, from whose pure blood do spring
The vital spirits; which, born in arteries,

Continual motion to all parts do bring.
This makes the pulses beat, and lungs respire;

This holds the sinews like a bridle's reins;
And makes the body to advance, retire,

To turn, or stop, as she them slacks or strains. Thus the soul tunes the body's instruments,

These harmonies she makes with life and sense ; The organs fit are by the body lent,

But th' actions flow from the soul's influence.

Yet bath the soul a dowry natural,

And sparks of light, some common things to see; Not being a blank where naught is writ at all,

But what the writer will, may written be.

For Nature in man's heart her laws doth pen,

Prescribing truth to wit, and good to will;
Which do accuse, or else excuse all men,

Por ev'ry thought or practice, good or ill:

And yet these sparks grow almost infinite, Ev’n so the king his magistrates do serve,

Making the world, and all therein, their food ; Yet commons feed both magistrates and king : As fire so spreads, as no place holdeth it,

The common's peace the magistrates preserve, Being nourish'd still with new supplies of wood. By borrow'd pow'r, which from the prince doth

spring. And though these sparks were almost quench'd with

Yet they whom that just One hath justify'd, [sin, The quick’ning power would be, and so would rest; ,
Hare them increas'd with heav'nly light within; The sense would not be only, but be well:
And like the widow's oil, still multiply'd. But wit's ambition longeth to the best,

For it desires in endless bliss to dwell.

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Tats is the soul, and these her virtues be;

Her only end is never-ending bliss,
Which, though they have their sundry proper ends, Which is, the eternal face of God to see;
And one exceeds another in degree,

Who, last of ends, and first of causes is :
Yet each on other mutually depends.

And, to do this, she must eternal be. Our wit is giv'n Almighty God to know;

How senseless then and dead a soul bath he,
Our will is giv'n to love him, being known : Which thinks bis soul doth with his body die :
But God could not be known to us below, (shown. Or thinks not so, but so would have it be,

Bat by his works, which through the sense are That he might sin with more security?
And as the wit doth reap the fruits of sense, For though these light and vicious persons say,

So doth the quick’ning pow'r the senses feed : Our soul is but a smoke, or airy blast,
Thus while they do their sundry gifts dispense, Which, during life, doth in cur nostrils play,

“ The best tlie service of the least doth need.” And when we die doth turn to wind at last :

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Although they say, “ Come let us eat and drink; Water in conduit-pipes can rise no higher

Our life is but a spark, which quickly dies :" Than the well-head, from whence it first doth Though thus they say, they know not what to think; Then since to eternal God she doth aspire, (spring:

But in their minds ten thousand doubts arise. She cannot be but an eternal thing. Therefore no heretics desire to spread

“ All moving things to other things do move, Their light opinions, like these epicures;

Of the same kind which shows their nature such: For so their stagg'ring thoughts are comforted, So earth falls down, and fire doth mount above,

And other meu's assent their doubt assures. Till both their proper elements do touch.

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Yet though these men against their conscience strive, And as the moisture, which the thirsty earth

There are some sparkles in their finty breasts, Sucks from the sea, to fill her empty veins, Which cannot be extinct, but still revive;

From out her womb at last doth take a birth, That though they would, they cannot quite be And runs a lymph along the grassy plains : beasts.

Long doth she stay, as loath to leave the land,
But whoso makes a mirror of his mind,

From whose soft side she first did issue make:
And doth with patience view himself therein, She tastes all places, turns to ev'ry hand,
His soul's eternity shall clearly find,

Her flow'ry banks unwilling to forsake:
Though th' other beauties be defac'd with sin.

Yet Nature so her streams doth lead and carry,

As that her course doth make no final stay,

Till she herself unto the ocean marry,
Drawn from the desire of knowledge.

Within whose vatry bosom first she lay.
First, in man's mind we find an appetite

E'en so the soul, which in this earthly mould To learn and know the truth of ev'ry thing,

The spirit of God doth secretly infuse,

Because at first she doth the earth behold,
Which is co-natural, and born with it,
And froin the essence of the soul doth spring.

And only this material world she views :
With this desire, she hath a native might

At first her mother-earth she holdeth dear, To find out ev'ry truth, if she had time;

And doth embrace the world, and worldly things ; Th'innumerable effects to sort aright,

She flies close by the ground, and hovers here, And by degrees, from cause to cause to climb.

And mounts not up with her celestial wings : But since our life so fast away doth slide,

Yet under Heav'n she cannot light on aught1 As doth a hungry eagle through the wind;

That with her heav'nly nature doth agree: Or as a ship transported with the tide,

She cannot rest, she cannot fix her thought, Which in their passage leave no print behind.

She cannot in this world contented be.
Of which swift little time so much we spend,

For who did ever yet, in honour, wealth,
While some few things we through the sense do Who ever ceas'd to wish, when he had health?

Or pleasure of the sense, contentment find?
That our short race of life is at an end,

Or, having wisdom, was not vex'd in mind? Ere we the principles of skill attain.

Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall, Or God (who to vain ends hath nothing done)

Which seem sweet flow'rs, with lustre fresh and In vain this appetite and pow'r hath gir'n;

She lights on that, and this, and tasteth all; (gay; Or else our knowledge, which is here begun,

But, pleas'd with none, doth rise, and soar away: Hereafter must be perfected in Heav'n.

So, when the soul finds here no true content, God never gave a pow'r to one whole kind,

And, like Noah's dove, can no sure footing take,

She doth return from whence she first was sent,
But most part of that kind did use the same:
Most eyes have perfect sight, though some be blind;

And flies to him that first her wings did make. Most legs can nimbly run, though some be lame. Wit, seeking truth, from cause to cause ascends,

And never rests till it the first attain : But in this life, no soul the truth can know

Will, seeking good, finds many middle ends;
So perfectly, as it hath pow'r to do:

But never stays till it the last do gain.
If then perfection be not found below,
An higher place must make her mount thereto. Now God the truth and first of causes is ;

God is the last good end, which lasteth still ;

Being alpha and omega nam'd for this;

Alpha to wit, omega to the will.
Drawn from the motion of the soul.' Since then her heav'nly kind she doth display,

In that to God she doth directly move;
Acain, how can she but immortal be,

And on no mortal thing can make her stay,
When, with the motions of both will and wit, She cannot be from hence, but froin above.
She still aspireth to eternity,
And never rests, till she attain to it?

* The soul compared to a river.

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