the glory, jest, and riddle of the world..

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;

The proper study of mankind is Man.

Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,

A being darkly wise, and rudely great:

With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,

With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride,

He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest,

In doubt to deem himself a god, or beast;

In doubt his mind or body to prefer,

Born but to die, and reasoning but to err;

Alike in ignorance, his reason such,

Whether he thinks too little, or too much:

Chaos of thought and passion, all confused;

Still by himself abused, or disabused;

Created half to ride, and half to fall;

Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;

Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled:

The glory, jest, and riddle of the world! . . .

           you've heard the famous line "good nature and good sense must ever join; to err is human, to forgive divine"? just studying some Alexander Pope for our 18th century lit final exam coming up. An Essay on Man is one of my favorite's of his writings (next to The Rape of the Lock). I don't know why but whenever I read Pope it always gives me the urge to read some of Milton. Do they have similar styles in writing? or is it the context? Either way, I really like this essay on the incompleteness of mankind and his vulnerable dependency on the entirety of creation. Without the support of their existence he cannot subsist. Pope also goes on to express the dire importance of man searching for truth and happiness from internal sources, rather than external possessions, from which issues mankind's turbulent complaint derived from the faulty expectations of pride. Basically, once man dies to himself, once man loses himself in the Greater Gaze of a higher Being, then he will find himself. Noticeably, this philosophy is along the same lines as The Last Meditations. . . but so are all Christian literary works. If their message is true, then they all tell the same story obviously, the authors just go about expressing it in different ways.

See him from nature rising slow to art!

To copy instinct then was reason's part;

Thus then to man the voice of Nature spake--

'Go, from the creatures thy instructions take. . .

Here too all forms of social union find,

And hence let reason, late, instruct mankind. . .

               an interesting fact about poets and writers, is the number that suffered from physical or social disabilities. Robert Louis Stevenson and Alexander Pope are an ideal example of this category. What's amazing about the little, disfigured Pope is that even though he suffered from tuberculosis of the bone, asthma, was barely five feet tall, and wore a stiffened canvas bodice to support his severe hunchback, he is considered the epitome of neoclassicism...in England at least. I love the fact that he was close friends with Jonathan Switft, John Gay, Congreve, and Robert Harley, was entirely sweet-tempered and amiable, was super close to his pet dog Bounce, and was nicknamed for his beautifully melodious voice. What an interesting character. Sometimes I wonder what it was like to know a potentially famous writer.. what if I meet one in my lifetime? or what if I already know one? its something worth musing over, haha.

'Til superstition taught the tyrant awe,

Then shared the tyranny, then lent it aid,

And gods of conquerors, slaves of subjects made:

She, midst the lightning's blaze, and thunder's sound,

When rocked the mountains, and when groaned the ground,

She taught the weak to bend, the proud to pray,

To power unseen, and mightier far than they:

She, from the rending earth and bursting skies,

Saw gods descend and fiends infernal rise:

Here fixed the dreadful, there the blest abodes:

Fear made her devils, and weak hope her gods;

Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust,

Whose attributes were rage, revenge, or lust;

Such as the souls of cowards might conceive,

And, formed like tyrants, tyrants would believe.