Rochester, "A Satyr against Reason and Mankind"

	Were I (who to my cost already am
	One of those strange, prodigious° creatures, man)	monstrous
	A spirit free to choose, for my own share
	What case of flesh and blood I pleased to wear,
5	I’d be a dog, a monkey, or a bear,
	Or anything but that vain animal,
	Who is so proud of being rational.
	The senses are too gross,° and he’ll contrive°	crude — invent
	A sixth, to contradict the other five,
110	And before certain instinct, will prefer
	Reason, which fifty times for one does err;
	Reason, an ignis fatuus of the mind,
	Which, leaving light of nature, sense, behind,
	Pathless and dangerous wand’ring ways it takes
	Through15error’s fenny° bogs and thorny brakes;°	swampy — thickets
	Whilst the misguided follower climbs with pain
	Mountains of whimseys,° heaped in his own brain;	strange imaginings
	Stumbling from thought to thought, falls headlong down
	Into doubt’s boundless sea where, like to drown,
20	Books bear him up awhile, and make him try
	To swim with bladders° of philosophy;	floats
	In hopes still to o’ertake th’ escaping light;
	The vapour dances in his dazzling° sight	overwhelmed
	Till, spent,° it leaves him to eternal night.	burnt out
25	Then old age and experience, hand in hand,
	Lead him to death, and make him understand,
	After a search so painful and so long,
	That all his life he has been in the wrong.
	Huddled in dirt the reasoning engine° lies,	human mind
30	Who was so proud, so witty, and so wise.
	Pride drew him in, as cheats their bubbles° catch,	dupes
	And made him venture° to be made a wretch.	try
	His wisdom did his happiness destroy,
	Aiming to know that world he should enjoy.
35	And wit° was his vain,° frivolous pretense	intelligence — pointless
	Of pleasing others at his own expense.
	For wits are treated just like common whores:
	First they’re enjoyed, and then kicked out of doors.
	The pleasure past, a threatening doubt remains
40	That frights th’ enjoyer with succeeding° pains.	following
	Women and men of wit are dangerous tools,
	And ever fatal to admiring fools:
	Pleasure allures, and when the fops° escape,	fashionably dressed men
	’Tis not that they’re beloved, but fortunate,
45	And therefore what they fear, at heart they hate.
	But now, methinks,° some formal band° and beard	it seems — preist’s collar
	Takes me to task. Come on, sir; I’m prepared.
	“Then, by your favor, anything that’s writ
	Against this gibing,° jingling knack called wit	sneering
50	Likes me° abundantly; but you take care	I like
	Upon this point, not to be too severe.
	Perhaps my muse were fitter for this part,
	For I profess I can be very smart
	On wit, which I abhor with all my heart.
55	I long to lash° it in some sharp essay,	attack
	But your grand indiscretion bids° me stay	requests
	And turns my tide of ink another way.
	“What rage ferments in your degenerate mind
	To make you rail at reason and mankind?
60	Blest, glorious man! to whom alone kind heaven
	An everlasting soul has freely given,
	Whom his great Maker took such care to make
	That from himself he did the image take
	And this fair frame in shining reason dressed
65	To dignify his nature above beast;
	Reason, by whose aspiring influence
	We take a flight beyond material sense,
	Dive into mysteries, then soaring pierce
	The flaming limits of the universe,
70	Search heaven and hell, Find out what’s acted there,
	And give the world true grounds of hope and fear.”
	Hold,° mighty man, I cry, all this we know	stop
	From the pathetic pen of Ingelo;
	From Patrick’s Pilgrim, Sibbes’ soliloquies,
75	And ’tis this very reason I despise:
	This supernatural gift, that makes a mite°	tiny insect
	Think he’s an image of the infinite,
	Comparing his short life, void of all rest,
	To the eternal and the ever blest;
80	This busy, puzzling° stirrer-up of doubt	confusing
	That frames° deep mysteries, then finds ’em out,	constructs
	Filling with frantic crowds of thinking fools
	Those reverend bedlams,° colleges and schools;	insane asylums
	Borne on whose wings, each heavy sot° can pierce	idiot
85	The limits of the boundless universe;
	So charming ointments make an old witch fly
	And bear a crippled carcass through the sky.
	’Tis this exalted power, whose business lies
	In nonsense and impossibilities,
90	This made a whimsical philosopher
	Before° the spacious world, his tub prefer,	more than
	And we have modern cloistered° coxcombs° who	walled up — conceited fools
	Retire° to think ’cause they have nought to do.	go away
	But thoughts are given for action’s government;°	control
95	Where action ceases, thought’s impertinent:
	Our sphere of action is life’s happiness,
	And he that thinks beyond, thinks like an ass.
	Thus, whilst° against false reasoning I inveigh,°	while — criticize
	I own° right reason, which I would obey:	acknowledge
100	That reason which distinguishes by sense
	And gives us rules of good and ill from thence,°	there
	That bounds desires, with a reforming will
	To keep ’em more in vigour, not to kill.
	Your reason hinders, mine helps to enjoy,
105	Renewing appetites° yours would destroy.	desires
	My reason is my friend, yours is a cheat;
	Hunger calls out, my reason bids me eat;
	Perversely, yours your appetite does mock:
	This asks for food, that answers, “What’s o’clock?”
110	This plain distinction, sir, your doubt secures:
	’Tis not true reason I despise, but yours.
	Thus I think reason righted, but for man,
	I’ll ne’er recant;° defend him if you can.	give in
	For all his pride and his philosophy,
115	’Tis evident beasts are, in their own degree,
	As wise at least, and better far than he.
	Those creatures are the wisest who attain,
	By surest means, the ends at which they aim.
	If therefore Jowler° finds and kills the hares	(a dog’s name)
120	Better than Meres supplies committee chairs,
	Though one’s a statesman, th’ other but a hound,
	Jowler, in justice, would be wiser found.
	You see how far man’s wisdom here extends;
	Look next if human nature makes amends:
125	Whose principles most generous are, and just,
	And to whose morals you would sooner trust.
	Be judge yourself, I’ll bring it to the test:
	Which is the basest creature, man or beast?
	Birds feed on birds, beasts on each other prey,
130	But savage man alone does man betray.
	Pressed by necessity, they kill for food;
	Man undoes man to do himself no good.
	With teeth and claws by nature armed, they hunt
	Nature’s allowance, to supply their want.
135	But man, with smiles, embraces, friendship, praise,
	Inhumanly his fellow’s life betrays;
	With voluntary pains works his distress,
	Not through necessity, but wantonness.°	whims
	For hunger or for love they fight and tear,
140	Whilst° wretched man is still in arms for fear.	while
	For fear he arms, and is of arms afraid,
	From fear, to fear successively betrayed;
	Base fear, the source whence his best passions came:
	His boasted honor, and his dear-bought fame;
145	The lust of power, to which he’s such a slave,
	And for the which alone he dares be brave;
	To which his various projects are designed;
	Which makes him generous, affable,° and kind;	likable
	For which he takes such pains to be thought wise,
150	And screws° his actions in a forced disguise,	contorts
	Leading a tedious life in misery
	Under laborious, mean hypocrisy.
	Look to the bottom of his vast design,°	plan
	Wherein man’s wisdom, power, and glory join:
155	The good he acts, the ill° he does endure,	evil
	’Tis all from fear, to make himself secure.
	Merely for safety, after fame we thirst,
	For all men would be cowards if they durst.°	dared
	And honesty’s against all common sense:
160	Men must be knaves, ’tis in their own defence.
	Mankind’s dishonest; if you think it fair
	Among known cheats to play upon the square,
	You’ll be undone.
	Nor can weak truth your reputation save:
165	The knaves will all agree to call you knave.
	Wronged shall he live, insulted o’er, oppressed,
	Who dares be less a villain than the rest.
	Thus sir, you see what human nature craves:
	Most men are cowards, all men should be knaves.
170	The difference lies, as far as I can see,
	Not in the thing itself, but the degree,
	And all the subject matter of debate
	Is only: Who’s a knave of the first rate?
	All this with indignation have I hurled
175	At the pretending part of the proud world,
	Who, swollen with selfish vanity, devise°	invent
	False freedoms, holy cheats, and formal lies
	Over their fellow slaves to tyrannize.
	But if in Court so just a man there be°	there happens to be
180	(In Court, a just man, yet unknown to me)
	Who does his needful flattery direct,
	Not to oppress and ruin, but protect
	(Since flattery, which way soever laid,
	Is still a tax on that unhappy trade);
185	If so upright a statesman you can find,
	Whose passions bend to his unbiased mind,
	Who does his arts and policies apply
	To raise his country, not his family,
	Nor, whilst his pride owned° avarice withstands,	admitted
190	Receives close bribes through friends’ corrupted hands—
	Is there a churchman who on God relies;
	Whose life, his faith and doctrine justifies?
	Not one blown up with vain prelatic° pride,	priestly
	Who, for reproof of sins, does man deride;°	insult
195	Whose envious heart makes preaching a pretense,
	With his obstreperous,° saucy eloquence,	unruly
	To chide° at kings, and rail° at men of sense;	scold — make fun of
	None of that sensual tribe° whose talents lie	people who care about pleasures of the senses
	In avarice, pride, sloth, and gluttony;
200	Who hunt good livings, but abhor good lives;
	Whose lust exalted° to that height arrives	raised up
	They act adultery with their own wives,
	And ere° a score° of years completed be,	before — twenty
	Can from the lofty pulpit proudly see
205	Half a large parish their own progeny;
	Nor doting° bishop, who would be adored	foolish
	For domineering at the council board,
	A greater fop° in business at fourscore,°	idiot — eighty years old
	Fonder of serious toys,° affected more,	trivia
210	Than the gay,° glittering fool at twenty proves	carefree
	With all his noise, his tawdry° clothes, and loves;	cheap
	But a meek, humble man, of honest sense,
	Who preaching peace, does practice continence;°	moderation
	Whose pious life’s a proof he does believe
215	Mysterious truths, which no man can conceive.
	If upon earth there dwell such God-like men,
	I’ll here recant my paradox to them,
	Adore those shrines of virtue, homage pay,
	And, with the rabble world, their laws obey.
220	If such there be, yet grant me this at least:
	Man differs more from man, than man from beast.

A Satyr against Reason and Mankind

By John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester

Edited and annotated by Jack Lynch

Notes