We ask, when in the spacious void they stray, Why still they beat one track, and move one way?

Still the same flight why do their parties take?
Why this, or that way, no digression make?
What will to this our atomists reply?
They answer, By an innate gravity
The ponderous bodies still are downward borne,
And never upwards of themselves return."
Acute and solid answer! see a flight,
Worthy of finest wit, and clearest sight!
Do not these wise mechanic masters know,
That no man can conceive, or high or low,
Nor find distinction of superior place,
Or of inferior, in the empty space
Uncircumscrib'd, and ignorant of bound,
And where no midst, no centre, can be found?
Perhaps, your master's doctrine to sustain,
And matter's downward motion to explain,
You, with his famous Gallic friend, assert,
That is superior, whence your atoms start,
And that inferior in the empty space
To which they all direct their rapid race.

Now let us recollect, and what you say
At large, in one contracted view survey.
You say, your atoms move; we ask you, why?
"Because it is their nature,' you reply.
But since that native power you never show,
You only say they move, because they do:
But let your atoms move, we bid you say,
Why they move this, and not a different way?
You tell us, 'tis from inbred gravity;
That is, you tell us, 'tis you know not why.
Till what is gravity you let us know,
By senseless words how can we wiser grow?
We give you this ingenite, moving force,

That makes them always downward take their

course;

We then demand, which place inferior is
Within the spacious unconfin'd abyss ?
You say 'tis that, to which the atoins bend
Their swift career, for still they must descend;
That is, they downward move, because they down-

ward tend.

Let us, Lucretians, new our task pursue, And of your scheme remaining wonders view. Say, if your atoms of iminortal race Are equal and commensurate to space : If so, the boundless vast immensity, While thus possest, would full of inatter be; For in the vacant (as your schools approve) Should finite matter be suppos'd to move, Not knowing how to stop, or where to stay, It unobstructed must pursue its way, Be lost in void immense, and dissipated stray; The scattering bodies never would combine, Nor, to compose a world, by concourse join But, if all space is full, if all possest, Which supposition you embrace as best, Then crowded matter would for ever rest ; Nature no change of place had ever seen; Where all is full, no motion can begin ; For, if it should, you'll be compell'd to say, Body does body pierce, to force its way; Or unconfin'd immensity retreats, To give your atoms room to change their seats. And here with us Lucretius does agree, That, if some place from matter be not free, In plenitude no motion could commence, All would be stagnate in the vast immense.

If it be said, "small parts of empty space Are interspers'd through all the spreading mass, By which some bodies give to others place;" Then matter, you must grant, would finite be, And stretch unequal to immensity; And then, as Epicurus judges right, It would for ever take a useless flight, Lost in expansion void and infinite. Besides, allowing through th' extended whole Small scatter'd spaces not of body full, Then inatter, you Lucretians must agree, Has not existence from necessity; For, if its being necessary were,

Why are some parts of space from matter clear? Why does it here exist, and why not there?

Lucretians, now, which side you please, embrace: If in your void you finite substance place, 'Tis dissipated through th' immense abyss, And you to form the world materials miss; You'll not the progress of your atoms stay, Nor to collect the vagrants find a way. Thus too your master's scheme will be destroy'd, Who, wholly to possess the boundless void, No less than matter infinite employ'd. If you, in honour to your founder's skill, The boundless void with boundless substance fill, Then tell us, how you can your bodies roll Through space, of matter so completely full! The force this single reason does exert Will the foundations of your scheme subvert: Nor were it needful to pursue the blow, Or form a fresh attack, unless to show How slight your works in every quarter are, How ill your huddled sentiments cohere.

Be this, O Greece! thy everlasting shame, That thoughtless Epicurus rais'd a name, Who built by artless Chance this mighty frame. Could one whose wit such narrow limits bound, Nature, thy depths unfathomable sound? Of his sagacious thoughts to give a part, Does not this wise philosopher assert The radiant Sun's extinguish'd every night, And every morn, rekindled, darts his light? That the vast orb, which casts so far his beams, Is such, or not much bigger, than he seems? That the dimensions of his glorious face Two geometric feet do scarce surpass? Does he not make the fickle winds convey The Sun revolving through his crooked way? But, since his school has gain'd such spreading

fame,

And modern wits his master-skill proclaim;
Let us yet farther carry this debate,
And, as you ask, confer on matter weight,
To make it move within the vast abyss,
And downward too, ev'n where no downward is.
If this be true, as you Lucretians say,
That atoms wing with equal speed their way,
Then how could this that atom overtake?
How could they clash, and how collisions make?
If in a line oblique your bodies rove,

Or in a perpendicular they move,

If soine advance not slower in their race,

And some, more swift, should not pursue the chase, How could they be entangled, how embrace? 'Tis demonstration, 'tis meridian light,

Those bodies ne'er could justle, ne'er could fight, Nor by their mutual shocks be ruffled in their flight.

Since matter of a greater magnitude

Must be with greater gravity endued,

Tell, how you build the chambers of the sky,
Extend the spheres, and hang the orbs on high?
You say, when matter first began to fall,
And settle into this terrestrial ball,
Press'd from the Earth thin exhalations rose,
Vapours and steams, materials to compose
The spacious regions of the liquid air,
The Heavens, and all the luminaries there:
These vapours soon (miraculous event!)
Shuffled by chance, and mix'd by accident,
Into such ranks and beauteous order fell,
As no effect of wisdom can excel.

Hence did the planets, hung in ether stray!
Hence rose the stars, and hence the Milky Way!
Hence did the Sun along the skies advance!
The source of day but sprung from Night and
Chance!

But who can show the legends, that record
More idle tales, or fables so absurd?
Does not your scheme affront ev'n vulgar sense;
That spheres of such a vast circumference,
That all the orbs, which in the regions roll,
Stretching from east to west, from pole to pole,
Should their constructure, and their beauty, owe
To vapours press'd from this poor ball below?
From this small heap could exhalations rise
Enough, and fit, to spread and vault the skies?
Lucretius thus the manner has display'd
How meteors, not how heavenly globes, are made.
But grant the steams, which by expression rose,
Did all the spheres and every orb compose;
Since their ingenite gravity remains,
What girder binds, what prop the frame sustains?
The Sun's bright beams, which you of matter
inake,

From Heaven their downward flight perpetual take:
Why does not then his body, which outweighs,
By infinite degrees, his golden rays,

-By its own force precipitated fall,

[say

And hide in ruins this terrestrial ball?
Can air, unable to sustain the light,
Support the Sun of such superior weight;
And all the ponderous heavenly orbs suspend,
Against their nature, which does downward tend?
Tell, wise Lucretius, tell the secret art,
Which keeps the Heavens and Earth so long apart.
Thus too the air, press'd from this mass, you
Between the Earth and skies expanded lay;
Not with intention that the solar light
Through the thin gulph might take an easy flight,
Or that with nitrous food it should inspire
The breathing lungs, and feed the vital fire;
But mere contingence did the gulph extend,
Regardless of convenience, use, or end.
Now, vaunting poet! should it be confess'd,
That from the Farth the air is thus express'd;
Since things by heavier things are upward thrown,
Which tend with stronger gravitation down;
Why are the Sun and the fair orbs of light,
All which so far exceed the air in weight,
Hung from the centre at a greater height?
Why do not these their nature's law obey,
Rush from above, and near the centre stay,
And make all lighter bodies give them way?
Tell us, Lucretius, why they ne'er pursue
This natural bent, and this undoubted due?

Since to the Earth you give the middle place,
To which all heavy things direct their race;
If nothing does obstruct, by certain fate
Things would, in order of their different weight,
Lie round the Earth, and make one mighty heap;
They would their place, as different strata, keep,
Nor would the air, or interceding sky,

Between the distant orbs and worlds divided lie;
Ether and air would claim the highest place,
The stars and planets would the Earth embrace.
As now the ocean floats upon its face.

In vain you labour by mechanic rules,

In vain exhaust the reason of your schools,
These questions to resolve, and to explain
How separate worlds were made, and separate still
remain.

Since to your uncompounded atoms you

| Figures in number infinite allow,

From which, by various combination, springs
This uncor fin'd diversity of things;

Are not, in this, design and counsel clear?
Does not the wise Artificer appear,
Who the corporeal particles endued
With different shape, and different magnitude,
That from their mixtures all things might have

birth,

In the wide sea, and air, and Heaven, and Earth?
To all these figures of distinguish'd kind,
And different sizes, are not ends assign'd?
Then own their Cause did act with wise intent,
Which did those sizes square, and every shape in-

vent.

When atoms first the world began to frame,
Is it not strange that every number came
Of such a figure, and of such a size,

As serv'd to found the Earth, and spread the skies?
Had they not met in such proportion, were
Their form and number not as now they are,
In a rude mass they had confus'dly join'd,
Not in a finish'd world, like this, combin'd.
Did these assembled substances reflect,
That here a beauteous frame they must erect?
Did they a general council wisely call,
To lay the platform of each mighty ball;
To settle prudent rules, and orders make,

In rearing worlds, what methods they should take?
To every Atom was his task enjoin'd?
His post, and fellow-labourers, assign'd?
Did they consent what parts they should compose;
That these should ether make, or water those?
That some should be the Moon, and some the
Earth?

Those give the Sun, and these the planet, birth?
If all these noble worlds were undesign'd,
And carry'd on without a Conscious Mind;
Oh, happy accident! auspicious chance!
That in such order made the work advance!
At length to such admir'd perfection brought
The finish'd structure, as it had been wrought
With art transcendent and consummate thought!
Since 'tis an outrage done to common seuse
To fix a central point in space immense;
Why is a middle to the Earth assign`d,
To which your ponderous bodies are inclin'd?
Besides, reflect how this terrestrial mass
Does the whole sea a thousand times surpass;
Which in a line, if drawn directly down,
More than a mile in depth is rarely known.
Now if by chance more watery atoms came
Than earthy, to compose this wondrous frame;

Aн, hapless mortal man! ah, rigid Fate! What cares attend our short, uncertain state! How wide a front, how deep and black a rear, What sad varieties of grief and fear, Drawn in array, exert their fatal rage, And gall obnoxious life through every stage, From infancy to youth, from youth to age! Who can compile a roll of all our woes? Our friends are faithless, and sincere our focs; The poison'd arrows of an envious tongue Improve our errours, and our virtues wrong; Th' oppressor now, with arbitrary might, Tramples on law, and robs us of our right; Dangers unseen on every side invade, And snares o'er all th' unfaithful ground are laid, Oft wounds from foreign violence we feel, Now from the ruffian's, now the warrior's, steel; By bruises or by labour we are pain'd A bone disjointed, or a sinew strain'd; Now festering sores afflict our tortur'd limbs ; Now to the yielding heart the gangrene climbs. Acute distempers fierce our veins assail, Rush on with fury, and by storm prevail; Others with thrift dispense their stores of grief, And by the sap prolong the siege of life; While to the grave we for deliverance cry, And, promis'd still, are still denied to die.

See colic, gout, and stone, a cruel train, Oppos'd by all the healing race in vain ; Their various racks and lingering plagues employ, Relieve each other, and by turns annoy, And, tyrant like, torment, but not destroy, We noxious insects in our bowels feed, Engender deaths, and dark destruction breed. The spleen with sullen vapours clouds the brain, And binds the spirits in its heavy chain: Howe'er the cause fantastic may appear, Th' effect is real, and the pain sincere. Hydropic wretches by degrees decay, Growing the more, the more they waste away; By their own ruins they augmented lie, With thirst and heat amidst a deluge fry: And while in floods of water these expire, More scorching perish by the fever's fire; Stretch'd on our downy, yet uneasy beds, We change our pillows, and we raise our heads; From side to side, in vain, for rest we turn, With cold we shiver, or with heat we burn; Of night impatient, we demand the day : The day arrives, and for the night we pray; The night and day successive come and go, Our lasting pains no interruption know.

Since man is born to so much woe and care, Must still new terrours dread, new sorrows bear; Does it not suit the state of human kind, There should preside a good Almighty Mind; A Cause Supreme, that might all nature steer, Avert our danger, and prevent our fear; Who, when implor'd, might timely succour give, Solace our anguish, and our wants relieve; Father of comfort, might our souls sustain, When prest with grief, and mitigate our pain? "Tis certain something, from all ages past, Without beginning was, and still will last; For if of time one period e'er had been When nothing was, then nothing could begin. That things should to themselves a being give, Reluctant reason never can conceive. If you affirm, effects themselves produce, You shock the mind, and contradiction choose;

For they, 'tis clear, must act and move, before
They were in being, or had motive power;
As active causes must, of right, at once
Existence claim, and as effects renounce.
Then something is, which no beginning had,
A causeless cause, or nothing could be made,
Which must by pure necessity exist,
And whose duration nothing can resist.

Let us inquire, and scarch, by due degrees,
What, who, this self-existent being is.

Should this material world's capacious frame
Uncaus'd and independent being claim;

It would, thus form'd and fashion'd as we see,
Derive existence from necessity,

And then to ages unconfin'd must last,
Without the least diversity or waste.
Necessity, view'd with attentive thought,
Does plain impossibility denote,

That things should not exist, which actual are
Or in another shape or different modes appear,
But see in all corporeal Nature's scene,
What changes, what diversities, have been!
Matter not long the same appearance makes,
But shifts her old, and a new figure takes:
If now she lies in Winter's rigid arms,
Dishonour'd and despoil'd of all her charms,
Soft vernal airs will loose th' unkind embrace,
And genial dews renew her wither'd facc;
Like fabled nymphs transform'd, she's now a tree,
Now weeps into a flood, and streaming seeks tha

sea.

She's now a gaudy fly, before a worm,
Below a vapour, and above a storm;
This ooze was late a monster of the main,
That turf a lowing grazer of the plain,

A lion this did o'er the forest reign.

Regard that fair, that branching laurel-plant,
Behold that lovely blushing amarant;
One might have William's broken frame assum'd,
And one from bright Maria's dust have bloom'd.
These shifting scenes, these quick rotations, show
Things from necessity could never flow,

But must to mind and choice precarious being owe.
Let us suppose, that Nature ever was
Without beginning, and without a cause;
As her first order, disposition, frame,
Must then subsist, unchangeably the same;
So must our mind pronounce, it would not be
Within the reach of possibility,

That e'er the world a being could have had
Different from what it is, or could be made
Of more or less, or other parts than those
Which the corporeal universe compose.
Now, fatalists, we ask, if those subvert
Reason's establish'd maxims, who assert,
That we the world's existence may conceive,
Though we one atom out of Nature leave;
Though some one wandering orb, or twinkling star,
Were absent from the Heavens, which now is there;
Though some one kind of plant, or fly, or worm,
No being bad, or had another's form?

And might not other animals arise,
Of different figure, and of different size?
In the wide womb of possibility

Lie many things, which ne'er may actual be;
And more productions, of a various kind,
Will cause no contradiction in the mind.
'Tis possible the things in Nature found,
Might different forms and different parts have
own'd;