The Genuine Remains in Verse and Prose of Mr. Samuel Butler/Volume 1/Satyr upon the weakness and misery of Man
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SATYR.[1]
Who would believe, that wicked Earth,
Where Nature only brings us forth,
To be found guilty, and forgiven,
Should be a Nursery for Heaven;
5 When all, we can expect to do,
Will not pay half the Debt we owe,
And yet more desperately dare,
As if that wretched Trifle were
Too much for the eternal Pow'rs,
10 Our great and mighty Creditors,
Not only flight what they enjoin,
But pay it in adulterate Coin?
We only in their Mercy trust,
To be more wicked and unjust:
15 All our Devotions, Vows, and Pray'rs
Are our own Interest, not theirs:
Our Off'rings, when we come t' adore,
But begging Presents, to get more :
The purest Business of our Zeal
20 Is but to err, by meaning well,
And make that Meaning do more harm,
Than our worst Deeds, that are less warm:[2]
For the most wretched and perverse
Does not believe himself, he errs.
25 Our holy'st Actions have been
Th' Effects of Wickedness and Sin;
Religious Houses made Compounders
For th' horrid Actions of the Founders;[3]
Steeples, that totter'd in the Air,
30 By Letchers sin'd into Repair;
As if we had retain'd no Sign,
Nor Character of the divine
And heav'nly Part of human Nature,
But only the coarse earthy Matter.
35 Our universal Inclination
Tends to the worst of our Creation,
As if the Stars conspir'd t'imprint
In our whole Species, by Instinct,
A fatal Brand, and Signature
40 Of nothing else, but the Impure.
The best of all our Actions tend
To the preposterousest End,
And, like to Mungrels, we're inclin'd
To take most to th' ignobler Kind;
45 Or Monsters, that have always least
Of the human Parent, not the Beast.
Hence 'tis we've no Regard at all
Of our best half Original;
But, when they differ, still assert
50 The Int'rest of th' ignobler Part;
Spend all the Time we have upon
The vain Capriches of the one,
But grudge to spare one Hour, to know
What to the better Part we owe.
55 As in all compound Substances
The greater still devours the less;
So, being born and bred up near
Our earthy gross Relations here,
Far from the ancient nobler Place
60 Of all our high paternal Race,
We now degenerate, and grow
As barbarous, and mean, and low,[4]
As modern Grecians are, and worse,
To their brave nobler Ancestors.
65 Yet, as no Barbarousness beside
Is half so barbarous as Pride,
Nor any prouder Insolence
Than that, which has the least Pretence,
We are so wretched, to profess
70 A Glory in our Wretchedness;
To vapour sillily, and rant
Of our own Misery, and Want,
And grow vain glorious on a Score,
We ought much rather to deplore,
75 Who, the first Moment of our Lives,
Are but condemn'd, and giv'n Reprieves;
And our great'st Grace is not to know,
When we shall pay 'em back, nor how,
Begotten with a vain Caprich,
80 And live as vainly to that Pitch.
Our Pains are real Things, and all
Our Pleasures but fantastical;
Diseases of their own Accord,
But Cures come difficult and hard;
85 Our noblest Piles, and stateliest Rooms
Are but Out-houses to our Tombs;
Cities, though e're so great and brave,
But mere Ware-houses to the Grave;
Our Bravery's but a vain Disguise,[5]
90 To hide us from the World's dull Eyes,
The Remedy of a Defect,
With which our Nakedness is deckt;
Yet makes us swell with Pride, and boast,
As if w' had gain'd by being lost.
95 All this is nothing to the Evils,
Which Men, and their confed'rate Devils
Inflict, to aggravate the Curse
On their own hated Kind, much worse;
As if by Nature th' had been serv'd
100 More gently, than their Fate deserv'd,
Take pains (in Justice) to invent,
And study their own Punishment;
That, as their Crimes should greater grow,
So might their own Inflictions too.
105 Hence bloody Wars at first began,
The artificial Plague of Man,
That from his own Invention rise,
To scourge his own Iniquities;
That if the Heav'ns should chance to spare
110 Supplies of constant poison'd Air,
They might not, with unfit Delay,
For lingering Destruction stay;
Nor seek Recruits of Death so far,
But plague themselves with Blood and War.
115 And if these fail, there is no good,
Kind Nature ere on Man bestow'd,
But he can easily divert
To his own Misery and Hurt;
Make that, which Heav'n meant to bless
120 Th'ungrateful World with, gentle Peace
With Luxury and Excess, as fast
As War and Desolation, waste;
Promote Mortality, and kill,
As fast as Arms, by sitting still;
125 Like Earthquakes slay without a Blow,
And only moving overthrow;
Make Law and Equity as dear,
As Plunder and Free-quarter were,
And fierce Encountres at the Bar
130 Undo as fast, as those in War;
Enrich Bawds, Whores, and Usurers,[6]
Pimps, Scriv'ners, silenc't Ministers,
That get Estates by being undone
For tender Conscience, and have none;[7]
135 Like those, that with their Credit drive
A Trade without a Stock, and thrive;
Advance Men in the Church and State
For being of the meanest Rate,
Rais'd for their double-guil'd deserts,
140 Before Integrity and Parts;[8]
Produce more grievious Complaints
For Plenty, than before for Wants,
And make a rich and fruitful Year
A greater Grievance, than a dear;
145 Make Jests of greater Dangers far,
Than those they trembl'd at in War;
Till, unawares, they've laid a Train
To blow the Publick up again;
Rally with Horror, and in Sport
150 Rebellion and Destruction court,
And make Fanatics, in Despight
Of all their Madness, reason right,[9]
And vouch to all they have foreshown,
As other Monsters oft have done.
155 Although from Truth and Sense as far,
As all their other Maggots are:
For Things said false, and never meant,
Do oft prove true by accident.
That Wealth, that bounteous Fortune sends
160 As presents to her dearest Friends,
Is oft laid out upon a Purchase
Of two Yards long in Parish Churches;
And those too happy Men that bought it,
Had liv'd, and happier too, without it.
165 For what does vast Wealth bring, but Cheat,
Law, Luxury, Disease, and Debt,
Pain, Pleasure, Discontent, and Sport
An easy-troubled Life, and short?[10]
But all these Plagues are nothing near
170 Those far more cruel and severe,[11]
Unhappy Man takes Pains to find,
T'inflict himself upon his Mind;
And out of his own Bowels spins
A Rack and Torture for his Sins:
175 Torments himself, in vain, to know
That most, which he can never do;
And the more strictly 'tis denied,
The more he is unsatisfied:
Is busy in finding Scruples out,
180 To languish in eternal Doubt,
Sees Spectres in the Dark, and Ghosts,
And starts, as Horses do at Posts;
And, when his Eyes assist him least,
Discerns such subtle Objects best:
185 On hypothetic Dreams and Visions
Grounds everlasting Disquisitions,
And raises endless Controversies
On vulgar Theorems and Hearsays:
Grows positive and confident
190 In Things so far beyond th' Extent
Of human Sense, he does not know,
Whether they be at all, or no;
And doubts as much in Things, that are
As plainly evident, and clear:[12]
195 Disdains all usesul Sense, and plain,
T' apply to th' Intricate and Vain;
And cracks his Brains in plodding on
That, which is never to be known;
To pose himself with Subtleties,
200 And hold no other Knowledge wise;
Although, the subtler all Things are,
They're but to nothing the more near:[13]
And the less Weight they can sustain,
The more he still lays on in vain;
205 And hangs his Soul upon as nice,
And subtle Curiosities,
As one of that vast Multitude,
That on a Needle's Point have stood:[14]
Weighs right and wrong, and true and false
210 Upon as nice and subtle Scales,
As those that turn upon a Plane
With th' hundredth Part of half a Grain;
And still the subtler they move,
The sooner false and useless prove.
215 So Man, that thinks to force and strain
Beyond its natural Sphere his Brain,
In vain torments it on the Rack,
And, for improving, sets it back;
Is ign'rant of his own Extent,
220 And that to which his Aims are bent,
Is lost in both, and breaks his Blade
Upon the Anvil, where 'twas made:
For as Abortions cost more Pain
Than vig'rous Births; so all the vain
225 And weak Productions of Man's Wit,
That aim at Purposes unfit,
Require more Drudgery, and worse
Than those of strong and lively Force.
Where Nature only brings us forth,
To be found guilty, and forgiven,
Should be a Nursery for Heaven;
5 When all, we can expect to do,
Will not pay half the Debt we owe,
And yet more desperately dare,
As if that wretched Trifle were
Too much for the eternal Pow'rs,
10 Our great and mighty Creditors,
Not only flight what they enjoin,
But pay it in adulterate Coin?
We only in their Mercy trust,
To be more wicked and unjust:
15 All our Devotions, Vows, and Pray'rs
Are our own Interest, not theirs:
Our Off'rings, when we come t' adore,
But begging Presents, to get more :
The purest Business of our Zeal
20 Is but to err, by meaning well,
And make that Meaning do more harm,
Than our worst Deeds, that are less warm:[2]
For the most wretched and perverse
Does not believe himself, he errs.
25 Our holy'st Actions have been
Th' Effects of Wickedness and Sin;
Religious Houses made Compounders
For th' horrid Actions of the Founders;[3]
Steeples, that totter'd in the Air,
30 By Letchers sin'd into Repair;
As if we had retain'd no Sign,
Nor Character of the divine
And heav'nly Part of human Nature,
But only the coarse earthy Matter.
35 Our universal Inclination
Tends to the worst of our Creation,
As if the Stars conspir'd t'imprint
In our whole Species, by Instinct,
A fatal Brand, and Signature
40 Of nothing else, but the Impure.
The best of all our Actions tend
To the preposterousest End,
And, like to Mungrels, we're inclin'd
To take most to th' ignobler Kind;
45 Or Monsters, that have always least
Of the human Parent, not the Beast.
Hence 'tis we've no Regard at all
Of our best half Original;
But, when they differ, still assert
50 The Int'rest of th' ignobler Part;
Spend all the Time we have upon
The vain Capriches of the one,
But grudge to spare one Hour, to know
What to the better Part we owe.
55 As in all compound Substances
The greater still devours the less;
So, being born and bred up near
Our earthy gross Relations here,
Far from the ancient nobler Place
60 Of all our high paternal Race,
We now degenerate, and grow
As barbarous, and mean, and low,[4]
As modern Grecians are, and worse,
To their brave nobler Ancestors.
65 Yet, as no Barbarousness beside
Is half so barbarous as Pride,
Nor any prouder Insolence
Than that, which has the least Pretence,
We are so wretched, to profess
70 A Glory in our Wretchedness;
To vapour sillily, and rant
Of our own Misery, and Want,
And grow vain glorious on a Score,
We ought much rather to deplore,
75 Who, the first Moment of our Lives,
Are but condemn'd, and giv'n Reprieves;
And our great'st Grace is not to know,
When we shall pay 'em back, nor how,
Begotten with a vain Caprich,
80 And live as vainly to that Pitch.
Our Pains are real Things, and all
Our Pleasures but fantastical;
Diseases of their own Accord,
But Cures come difficult and hard;
85 Our noblest Piles, and stateliest Rooms
Are but Out-houses to our Tombs;
Cities, though e're so great and brave,
But mere Ware-houses to the Grave;
Our Bravery's but a vain Disguise,[5]
90 To hide us from the World's dull Eyes,
The Remedy of a Defect,
With which our Nakedness is deckt;
Yet makes us swell with Pride, and boast,
As if w' had gain'd by being lost.
95 All this is nothing to the Evils,
Which Men, and their confed'rate Devils
Inflict, to aggravate the Curse
On their own hated Kind, much worse;
As if by Nature th' had been serv'd
100 More gently, than their Fate deserv'd,
Take pains (in Justice) to invent,
And study their own Punishment;
That, as their Crimes should greater grow,
So might their own Inflictions too.
105 Hence bloody Wars at first began,
The artificial Plague of Man,
That from his own Invention rise,
To scourge his own Iniquities;
That if the Heav'ns should chance to spare
110 Supplies of constant poison'd Air,
They might not, with unfit Delay,
For lingering Destruction stay;
Nor seek Recruits of Death so far,
But plague themselves with Blood and War.
115 And if these fail, there is no good,
Kind Nature ere on Man bestow'd,
But he can easily divert
To his own Misery and Hurt;
Make that, which Heav'n meant to bless
120 Th'ungrateful World with, gentle Peace
With Luxury and Excess, as fast
As War and Desolation, waste;
Promote Mortality, and kill,
As fast as Arms, by sitting still;
125 Like Earthquakes slay without a Blow,
And only moving overthrow;
Make Law and Equity as dear,
As Plunder and Free-quarter were,
And fierce Encountres at the Bar
130 Undo as fast, as those in War;
Enrich Bawds, Whores, and Usurers,[6]
Pimps, Scriv'ners, silenc't Ministers,
That get Estates by being undone
For tender Conscience, and have none;[7]
135 Like those, that with their Credit drive
A Trade without a Stock, and thrive;
Advance Men in the Church and State
For being of the meanest Rate,
Rais'd for their double-guil'd deserts,
140 Before Integrity and Parts;[8]
Produce more grievious Complaints
For Plenty, than before for Wants,
And make a rich and fruitful Year
A greater Grievance, than a dear;
145 Make Jests of greater Dangers far,
Than those they trembl'd at in War;
Till, unawares, they've laid a Train
To blow the Publick up again;
Rally with Horror, and in Sport
150 Rebellion and Destruction court,
And make Fanatics, in Despight
Of all their Madness, reason right,[9]
And vouch to all they have foreshown,
As other Monsters oft have done.
155 Although from Truth and Sense as far,
As all their other Maggots are:
For Things said false, and never meant,
Do oft prove true by accident.
That Wealth, that bounteous Fortune sends
160 As presents to her dearest Friends,
Is oft laid out upon a Purchase
Of two Yards long in Parish Churches;
And those too happy Men that bought it,
Had liv'd, and happier too, without it.
165 For what does vast Wealth bring, but Cheat,
Law, Luxury, Disease, and Debt,
Pain, Pleasure, Discontent, and Sport
An easy-troubled Life, and short?[10]
But all these Plagues are nothing near
170 Those far more cruel and severe,[11]
Unhappy Man takes Pains to find,
T'inflict himself upon his Mind;
And out of his own Bowels spins
A Rack and Torture for his Sins:
175 Torments himself, in vain, to know
That most, which he can never do;
And the more strictly 'tis denied,
The more he is unsatisfied:
Is busy in finding Scruples out,
180 To languish in eternal Doubt,
Sees Spectres in the Dark, and Ghosts,
And starts, as Horses do at Posts;
And, when his Eyes assist him least,
Discerns such subtle Objects best:
185 On hypothetic Dreams and Visions
Grounds everlasting Disquisitions,
And raises endless Controversies
On vulgar Theorems and Hearsays:
Grows positive and confident
190 In Things so far beyond th' Extent
Of human Sense, he does not know,
Whether they be at all, or no;
And doubts as much in Things, that are
As plainly evident, and clear:[12]
195 Disdains all usesul Sense, and plain,
T' apply to th' Intricate and Vain;
And cracks his Brains in plodding on
That, which is never to be known;
To pose himself with Subtleties,
200 And hold no other Knowledge wise;
Although, the subtler all Things are,
They're but to nothing the more near:[13]
And the less Weight they can sustain,
The more he still lays on in vain;
205 And hangs his Soul upon as nice,
And subtle Curiosities,
As one of that vast Multitude,
That on a Needle's Point have stood:[14]
Weighs right and wrong, and true and false
210 Upon as nice and subtle Scales,
As those that turn upon a Plane
With th' hundredth Part of half a Grain;
And still the subtler they move,
The sooner false and useless prove.
215 So Man, that thinks to force and strain
Beyond its natural Sphere his Brain,
In vain torments it on the Rack,
And, for improving, sets it back;
Is ign'rant of his own Extent,
220 And that to which his Aims are bent,
Is lost in both, and breaks his Blade
Upon the Anvil, where 'twas made:
For as Abortions cost more Pain
Than vig'rous Births; so all the vain
225 And weak Productions of Man's Wit,
That aim at Purposes unfit,
Require more Drudgery, and worse
Than those of strong and lively Force.
- ↑ In this Composition the Reader will have the Pleasure of viewing Butler in a Light, in which he has not hitherto appeared. Every Thing almost, that he has wrote, is indeed satirical, but in an arch and drole Manner; and he may be said rather to have laught at the Vices and Follies of Mankind, than to have rail'd at them. In this he is serious and severe, exchanges the Ridiculum for the Acri, and writes with the spirited Indignation of a Juvenal or a Persius. Good-natured Readers may perhaps think the Invective too bitter; but the same Good-nature will excuse the Poet, when 'tis considered, what an Edge must be given to his satirical Wit by the Age in which he liv'd, distinguished by the two Extremes of Hypocrisy and Enthusiasm on the one Part, and Irreligion and Immorality on the other.
- ↑ 21, 22. And make that Meaning do more harm—Than our worst Deeds, that are less warm.] This was but too plainly exemplified in the preceding Times of civil Combustion, when the mistaken Zeal of a Set of mad Enthusiasts did more Mischief in these Kingdoms, than the Vices of all our Kings put together.
- ↑ 27, 28. Religious Houses made Compounders—For the horrid Actions the Founders]. It is almost too obvious to observe, that it was very usual, especially in the Times of Popery, for the greatest Debauchees to flatter themselves, that they attoned for the Dissoluteness of their past Lives by pious Donations at their Death; as if they were to be excus'd for not serving God themselves, by furnishing others with an Opportunity of doing it.
- ↑ 63. As barbarous, and mean, and low] The Terms barbarous and barbarousness, in this, and the Lines following, are to be understood in their old Sense, as opposed to rude and uncultivated.
- ↑ 89. Our Bravery's but a mean Disguise.] In the Times in which our Author wrote, what we now call Finery in Dress was generally express'd by the Word Bravery. This Observation upon the Vanity and Folly of being proud of Dress, which is only a Consequence of our Fall, is not peculiar to Butler; but he has made it his own by the Manner of expressing it.
- ↑ 131. Enrich Bawds, Whores, &c.] The Reign of Charles the Second, which is the Scene of this Satyr, does but too much justify this severe Censure.
- ↑ 132, 133, 134.silenc't Ministers—That get Estates by being undone—For tender Conscience, and have none.] A Passage in his Hudibras, will best explain the Poet's Meaning here.One cannot but admire the Satyrist's Impartiality, in sparing neither the wanton and licentious Excesses of Charles's Court, nor the Cant and Roguery of those who hypocritically rail'd at him.Be sure to keep up Congregations,
In spight of Laws and Proclamations
For Chiarlatans can do no good,
Until they're mounted in a Crowd;
And when they're punished, all the Hurt
Is but to fare the better for't;
As long as Confessors are sure
Of double Pay for all th' endure,
And what they earn in Persecution,
Are paid t' a Groat in Contribution.
Whence some Tub-Holders-forth have made
In Powd'ring-Tubs their richest Trade:
And while they kept their Shops in Prison,
Have found their Prices strangely risen.
Hudib. P. III. C, 2. ver. 969. - ↑ 139. Rais'd for their double-guil'd Deserts—Before Integrity and Parts.] Alluding, I suppose, to that narrow-spirited Policy so commonly imputed to Charles II. of courting his Enemies, instead of rewarding his Friends. And perhaps the Poet might think himself included in the Injustice, which he censures. The Pun upon double guil'd for double-gilt is rather low, but is one of those Excrescencies, which naturally grow out of Genius's of Butler's Cast.
- ↑ 151, 152. And make Fanatics, in despight—Of all their Madness, reason right.] The Writings and Preachments of the Enthusiasts and Fanatics of this, and indeed of all Ages, are full of Denunciations of particular Judgments, which the Poet wittily observes, though vented at Random, might be seriously verified, without a Reformation of Manners.
- ↑ 168. An easy troubled life, and short.] Though this Satyr seems fairly transcribed for the Press; yet on a Vacancy in the Sheet opposite to this Line, I find the following Verses, which probably were intended to be added, but as they are not regularly inserted, I chuse rather to give them by way of Note.For Men n'er digg'd so deep into
The Bowels of the Earth below,
For Mettals that are found to dwell
Near Neighbour to the Pit of Hell,
And have a magic Pow'r to sway
The greedy Souls of Men that Way;
But with their Bodies have been fain
To fill those Trenches up again;
When bloody Battles have been fought
For sharing that, which they took out.
For Wealth is all Things, that conduce
To Man's Destruction, or his Use;
A Standard both to buy and sell
All Things from Heaven down to Hell. - ↑ 169, 170. But all these Plagues are nothing near—These far more cruel, &c.] Our Satirist, after enumerating the various Infelicities of Man arising from the outward Circumstances of Human Nature, descends to that which takes its Rise within his own distempered Mind, the insatiable Thirst of knowing those Things, which he has neither Ability to investigate, nor Necessity to enquire into. He was a profest Enemy to all chimerical, precarious, uncertain Speculations, either in Philosophy or Divinity, as every attentive Reader of his Hudibras must have observed, and with a View to this he drew the Characters of Hudibras, and the virtuoso Philosopher Sidrephel. This is a favorite Topic of our Poets; and the Reader will accordingly find the Verses glow with a peculiar Warmth and Spirit.
- ↑ 193, 194. And doubts as much in Things, that are—As plainly evident and clear:] Strange and bold as this Assertion seems, we see it too often verified by learned Men, who are dogmatical and confident in the most refined hypothetical Theories, and sceptical in the plainest Truths. It is not unlikely, but he had Descartes in his Eye, who boldly entered into an Explication of the whole System of the Universe, and yet came at last to frame a Doubt about his own Existence.
- ↑ 201, 202. Although the subtler all Things are,—Th'are but to nothing the more near:] This is a Thought of Seneca's, and quoted as such by Butler in a Note of his own upon the two following Verses in his Hudibras.He could reduce all Things to acts,
And knew their Nature by Abstracts.
See Grey's Hud. P. 1. C. 1. ver. 143. - ↑ 207, 208. As one of that vast Multitude:—That on a Needle's Point have stood:] This alludes to the whimsical Notions of the Rosicrucians about their aerial Spirits.