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The boar might wear a trunk, the wolf a horn,
The peacock's train the bittern might adorn ;
Strong tusks might in the horse's mouth have
grown,

And lions might have spots, and leopards none.
But, if the world knows no superior cause,
Obeys no sovereign's arbitrary laws;

If absolute necessity maintains

Of causes and effects the fatal chains;
What could one motion stop, change one event?
It would transcend the wide, the vast extent,
The utmost stretch of possibility,

That things, from what they are, should disagree.
If, to elude this reasoning, you reply,
"Things, what they are, are by necessity;
Which never else so aptly could conspire
To serve the whole, and Nature's ends acquire;
To form the beauty, order, harmony,
Which we through all the works of Nature see:"
Ready we this assertion will allow,

For what can more exalted wisdom show?
With zeal we this necessity defend,
Of means directed to their useful end;
But 'tis not that which fatalists intend,
Nor that which we oppose in this debate,
An uncontroll'd necessity of Fate,
Which all things blindly does and must produce,
Unconscious of their goodness and their use,
Which cannot ends design, nor means convenient

choose.

If you persist, and fondly will maintain
Of causes and effects an endless train;
That this successive series still has been,
Will never cease, and never did begin;
That things did always, as they do, proceed,
And no First Cause, no wise Director, need:
Say, if no links of all your fatal chain
Free from corruption, and unchang'd, remain;
If of the whole each part in time arose,
And to a cause its borrow'd being owes,
How then the whole can independent be?
How have a being from necessity?

Is not the whole, ye learned heads, the same
With all the parts, and different but in name?
Could e'er that whole the least perfection show,
Which from the parts, that form it, did not flow?
Then, tell us, can it from its parts derive,
What in themselves those parts had not to give?
Farther to clear the subject in debate,
Inform us, what you understand by Fate.
Have you a just idea in the mind

Of this great cause of things by you assign'd?
If you the order and dependence mean,
By which effects upon their causes lean,
The long succession of th' efficient train,
And firm coherence of th' extended chain;
Then Fate is nothing but a mode of things,
Which from continued revolution springs;
A pure relation, and a mere respect,
Between the cause effective and th' effect.
If causes and effects themselves are that
Which your clear-sighted schools intend by Fate;
Then Fate by no idea can be known,
Tis one thing only, as a heap is one:
You no distinguish'd being by it mean,
But all th' effects and causes that have been.
If you assert, that cach sufficient cause
Must act by fix'd inevitable laws;
If you affirm this necessary state,
And tell us this necessity is Fate;

When will you bless the world with light to see
The spring and source of this necessity?
Say, what did so dispose, so things ordain,
To form the links of all the casual chain,
That Nature, by inevitable force,
Should run one ring, and keep one steady course?
That things must needs in one set order flow,
And all events must happen as they do?
Can you no proof of your assertion find?
Produce no reason to convince the mind,
That Nature this determin'd way must go?
Are all things thus, because they must be so?
We grant, with case, there is necessity,
The Source of things should self-existent be.
But then he's not a necessary cause;
He freely acts by arbitrary laws:
He gave to beings motive energy,
And active things to passive did apply;
In such wise order all things did dispose,
That of events necessity arose :
Without his aid, say, how will you maintain
Your fatal link of causes? Hence 'tis plain,
While the word Fate you thus affect to use,
You coin a senseless term, th' unwary to amuse.
You, who assert the world did ne'er commence,
Prepare against this reasoning your defence.
If solar beams, which through th' expansion dart,
Corporeal are, as learned schools assert;
Since still they flow, and no supply repays
The lavish Sun his dissipated rays;
Grant, that his radiant orb did ne'er begin,
And that his motions have eternal been;
Then, by eternal, infinite expense,

By unrecruited waste, and spoils immense,
By certain fate to slow destruction doom'd,
His glorious stock long since had been consum'd;
Of light unthrifty, and profuse of day,
The ruin'd globe had spent his latest ray,
Dispers'd in beams eternally display'd,
Had lost in ether roam'd, and loose in atoms stray'd.
Grant, hat a grain of matter would outweigh
The light the Sun dispenses in a day
Through all the stages of his heavenly way,
That in a year the golden torrents, sent
From the bright source, its losses scarce augment:
Yet without end, if you the waste repeat,
Th' eternal loss grows infinitely great.
Then, should the Sun of finite bulk sustain,
In every age, the loss but of a grain;
If we suppose those ages infinite,
Could there remain one particle of light?

Reflect, that motion must abate its force,
As more or less obstructed in its course;
That all the heavenly orbs, while turning round,
Have some resistance from the medium found:
Be that resistance ne'er so faint and weak,
If 'tis eternal, 'twill all motion break;
If in each age you grant the least decrease,
By infinite succession it must cease.
Hence, if the orbs have still resisted been
By air, or light, or ether, ne'er so thin;
Long since their motion must have been supprest,
The stars had stood, the Sun had lain at rest;
So vain, so wild a scheme, you fatalists have
Let us the wise positions now survey
Of Aristotle's school, who's pleas'd to say,
Nothing can move itself, no inward power
To any being motion can procure.

[dress'd!

Whate'er is mov'd, its motion must derive
From something else, which must an impulse give:

And yet no being motion could begin ;
Else motion might not have eternal been.
That matter never did begin to move,
But in th' imu.cnse from endless ages strove,
The Stagyrite thus undertakes to prove.
He says,

of motion time the measure is;"
Then that's eternal too, as well as this.
Motion through ages without limit flows,
Since time, its measure, no beginning knows.
This feeble base upholds our author's hopes,
And all his mighty superstructure props.
On this he all his towering fabric rears,
Sequel on sequel heaps, to reach the spheres.
But if this definition you deny

Of time, on which his building does rely,
You bring his lofty Babel from the sky:
A thousand fine deductions you confound,
Scatter his waste philosophy around,
And level all his structure with the ground.
We then this definition thus defeat:
Time is no measure, which can motion meet;
For men of reasoning faculties will see,
That time can nothing but duration be
Of beings; and duration can suggest
Nothing or of their motion, or their rest;
Only prolong'd existence it implies,
Whether the thing is mov'd,, or quiet lies.
This single blow will all the pile subvert,
So proudly rais'd, but with so little art.

But, since the author has such fame acquir'd,
And as a god of science been admir'd,
A stricter view we'll of his system take,
And of the parts a short examen make.
Let us observe, what light his scheme affords,
His undigested heap of doubtful words.
Great Stagyrite, the lost inquirer show
The spring whence motion did for ever flow;
Since nothing of itself e'er moves or strives,
Tell what begins, what the first impulse gives.
Hear how the man, who all in fame sur-
mounts,

For motion's spring and principle accounts.
To his supreme, unmov'd, unactive god,
He the first sphere appoints, a blest abode;
Who sits supinely on his azure throne,
In contemplation of himself alone;
Is wholly mindless of the world, and void
Of providential care, and unemploy’d.
To all the spheres inferior are assign'd
Gods subaltern, and of inferior kind:
On these he self-existence does confer,
Who, as the god supreme, eternal are;
With admiration mov'd, and ardent love,
They all their spheres around in order move;
And from these heavenly revolutions flow
All motions, which are found in things below.
If you demand by what impulsive force
The under-gods begin their circling course:
He says, as things desirable excite
Desire, and objects move the appetite;
So his first god, by kindling-ardent love,
Does all the gods in seats inferior move:
Thus mov'd, they move around their mighty
With their refulgent equipage of stars; [spheres,
From sphere to sphere communicate the dance,
Whence all in heavenly harmony advance;
And from this motion propagated rise
All motions in the Earth, and air, and skies.
And thas by learned Aristotle's anind

All things were form'd, yet nothing was design'd.

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sent,

Move all their spheres around without intent;
Whate'er he calls his moving cause, to choose
He gives that cause no power, or to refuse.
And thus from Fate all artful order springs,
This rear'd the world, this is the rise of things.
Now give us leave to ask, great Stagyrite,
How the first god th' inferior does excite?
Of his own substance does he parts convey,
Whose motive force the under gods obey?
If so, he may be chang'd, he may decay.
But if by stedfast gazing they are mov'd,
And admiration of the object lov'd;

If those below their motive force acquire
From the strong impulse of divine desire;
Tell us, what good your god supreme can grant,
Which those beneath, to make them happy, want.
If admiration of the god supreme,

[flame,

And heavenly raptures, should their breasts in-
Is that of motion a resistless cause,
Of motion constant to eternal laws?
Might not each second god inactive lie
On his blue sphere, and fix his ravish'd eye
On the Supreme Unmoveable, and ne'er
Be forc'd to roll around his solid sphere?
Say, how could wonder drive them from their
place?

How in a circle make them run their race?
How keep them steady in one certain pace?
He this a fundamental maxim lays,
That Nature wisely acts in all her ways;
That she pursues the things which most conduce.
To order, beauty, decency, and use.
Who can to reason this affront endure?
Should it derision cause, or anger more,
To hear a deep philosopher assert
That Nature, not endu'd with skill or art,
Of liberty of choice, of reason void,
Still wisely acts, wherever she's employ'd?
Can actions be denominated wise,
Which from a brute necessity arise,
Which the blind agent never did intend,
The means unchosen, and unknown the end?
On this be laid the stress of this debate;
What wisely acts can never act by Fate.
The means and end must first be understood;
The means, as proper; and the end, as good;
The act must be exerted with intent,
By using means to gain the wish'd event.
But can a senseless and unconscious cause,
By foreign impulse mov'd, and fatal laws,
This thing as good, and that as fit, respect,
Design the end, and then the means elect?
Nature, you grant, can no event intend,
Yet that she acts with prudence you pretend:
So Nature wisely acts, yet acts without an end!
Yet while this prince of science docs declare
That means or ends were never Nature's care;
That things which seem with perfect art contriv'd,
By the resistless force of Fate arriv'd;

This cautious master, to secure his fame,
And 'scape the atheist's ignominious name,
Did to his gods of all degrees allow
Counsel, design, and power to choose and know.
Yet, since he's pleas'd so plainly to assert,
His gods no act of reasoning power exert,
No mark of choice, or arbitrary will,
Employ'd no prudence, and express'd no skill,
In making or directing Nature's frame,
Which from his fate inevitable came;
These gods must, as to us, be brute and blind,
And as unuseful, as if void of mind:
Acting without intent, or care, or aim,
Can they our prayer regard, or praises claim?
Of all the irreligious in debate,

This shameful errour is the common fate;
That though they cannot but distinctly see
In Nature's works, and whole economy,
Design and judgment in a high degree;
This judgment, this design, they ne'er allow
Do from a cause endued with reason flow.
The art they grant, th' artificer reject,
The structure own, and not the architect;
That unwise Nature all things wisely makes,
And prudent measures without prudence takes.
Grant that their admiration and their love
Of the first god may all th' inferior move;
Grant, too, though no necessity appears,
That, with their rapture mov'd, they move their
spheres:

These questions let the Stagyrite resolve,
Why they at all, why in this way revolve?
Declare by what necessity controll❜d,
In one determin'd manner they are roll'd?
Why is their swift rotation west and east,
Rather than north and south, or east and west?
Why do not all th' inferior spheres obey
The highest sphere's inevitable sway?
Tell us, if all celestial motions rise
From revolutions of the starry skies,
Whence of the orbs the various motions come?
Why some the general road pursue; and some
In ether stray, and disobedient roam?
If yours the source of motion is, declare,
Why this is fix'd, and that a wandering star?
Tell by what fate, by what resistless force,
This orb has one, and that another course?
How does the learned Greek the cause unfold,
With equal swiftness why the Sun is roll'd
Still east and west, to mark the night and day?
To form the year, why through th' ecliptic
way?

What magic, what necessity, confines
The solar orb between the tropic lines?

What charms in those enchanted circles dwell,
That with controlling power the Sun repel?
The Stagyrite to this no answer makes;
Of the vast globe so little thought he takes,
That he to solve these questions never strives,
No cause or of its place or motion gives.

But farther yet, applauded Greek, suppose
Celestial motions from your spring arose;
That motion down to all the worlds below,
From the first sphere, may propagated flow :
Since you of things, to show th' efficient source,
Have always to necessity recourse;
From what necessity do spheres proceed
With such a measur'd, such a certain speed?
We fain would this mysterious cause explore,
Why motion was not either less or more,

But in this just proportion and degree, As suits with Nature's just economy. This is a cause, a right one too, we grant, But 'tis the final, we th' efficient want; With greater swiftness if the spheres were whirl'd, The motion given to this inferior world Too violent had been for Nature's use, Of too great force mix'd bodies to produce; The elements, air, water, earth, and fire, Which now to make compounded things conspire, By their rude shocks could never have combin'd, Or had been disengag'd as soon as join'd: But then, had motion in a less degree Been given, than that which we in Nature see; Of greater vigour we had stood in need, To mix and blend the elemental seed, To temper, work, incorporate, and bind, Those principles, that thence, of every kind, The various compound beings might arise, Which fill the earth and sca, and store the skies. Say, what necessity, what fatal laws, Did in such due proportion motion cause, Nor more or less, but just so much as tends To frame the world, and serve all Nature's ends? Ask why the highest of the rolling spheres, Deck'd to profusion with refulgent stars, And all with bright excrescences embost, Has the whole beauty of the Heavens engrost; When of the others, to dispel the night, Each owns a single, solitary light; Only one planct in a sphere is found, Marching in air his melancholy round: Nature," he tells us, "took this prudent care, That the sublimest and the noblest sphere Should be with nobler decoration blest, And in magnificence outshine the rest; That so its greater ornament and state Should bear proportion with its greater height." It seems then Nature does not only find Means to be good, beneficent, and kind, But has for beauty and for order car'd, Does rank, and state, and decency, regard.

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Now, should he not considering men forgive,
If, sway'd by this assertion, they believe,
That Nature, which does decency respect,
Is something which can reason, choose, reflect?
Or that some wise director must preside
O'er Nature's works, and all her motions guide?
You here should that necessity declare,
Why all the stars adorn the highest sphere:
Say, how is this th' effect of fatal laws,
Without reflecting on a final cause?

One sphere has all the stars; we ask you, why?
When you to beauty and to order fly,
You plain assert the truth which you deny;
That is, that Nature has wise ends in view,
With foresight works, and does designs pursue.
. Thus all the mighty wits, that have essay'd
To explicate the means how things are made
By Nature's power, without the Hand Divine,
The final causes of effects assign.

They say, that this or that is so or so,
That such events in such succession flow;
Because convenience, decency, and use,
Require that Nature things should thus produce.
They, in their demonstrations, always vaunt
Efficient causes, which they always want.
But thus they yield the question in debate,
And grant the impotence of Chance and Fate;

For, till they show by what necessity
Things have the disposition which we see,
Whether it be deriv'd from Fate or Chance,
Not the least step in science they advance.

Grant Nature furnish'd, at her vast expense,
One room of state with such magnificence,
That it might shine above the others bright,
Adorn'd with numerous burnish'd balls of light;
Does she on one by decent rules dispense
Of constellations such a wealth immense,
While the next sphere, in amplitude and height,
Rolls on with one erratic lonely light?
But be it so, the question's still the same,
Tell us, from what necessity it came?

Let us the great philosopher attend,
While to the worlds below his thoughts descend:
His elements, "Earth, Water, Air, and Fire,
He says,
"to make all compound things, con-
spire;"

He in the midst leaves the dull Earth at rest,
In the soft bosom of the Air caress'd ;
The red-wing'd Fire must to the Moon arise,
Hover in air, and lick contiguous skies;
No charms, no force, can make the Fire descend,
Nor can the Earth to seats superior tend;
Both, unmolested, peace for ever own,
This in the middle, that beneath the Moon:
Water and Air not so; for they, by Fate
Assign'd to constant duty, always wait;
Ready by turns to rise or to descend,
Nature against a vacant to defend ;
For should a void her monarchy invade,

Should in her works the smallest breach be made,
That breach the mighty fabric would dissolve,
And in immediate ruin all involve.

A consequence so dismal to prevent,
Water and Air are still (as said) intent
To mount or fall, this way or that to fly,
Seek subterranean vaults, or climb the sky;
While these with so much duty are opprest,
The Earth and Fire are privileg'd with rest.
These elements, 'tis clear, have not discern'd
The interest of the whole, nor are concern'd
Lest they, when once an interposing void
Has Nature's frame o'erturn'd, should be destroy'd.
Tell, why these simple elements are four?
Why just so many? why not less or more?
Does this from pure necessity proceed?
Or say, does Nature just that number need?
If this, you mock us, and decline the task;
You give the final cause, when we th' efficient ask.
If that, how often shall we call, in vain,
That you would this necessity explain?

But here forgive me, famous Stagyrite,
If I esteem it idle to recite

The reasons (so you call them) which you give
To make us this necessity believe;
Reasons so trifling, so absurd, and dry,

That those should blush, who inake a grave reply,
Your elements we grant: but now declare
How you to forin compounded things prepare,
And mix your fire and water, earth and air?
The swift rotation of the spheres above,
You say, must all inferior bodies move;
The elements in sublunary space

Are by this impulse fore'd to leave their place;
By various agitations they combine

In different forms, by different mixtures join;
Blended and justly temper'd, they compound
All things in all th' inferior regions found:

Thus beings from th' incorporated four
Result, by undesigning Nature's power.
Hence metals, plants, and minerals arise,
The clouds, and all the meteors of the skies!
Hence all the clans that haunt the hill or wood,
That beat the air, or cut the limpid flood!
Ev'n man, their lord, hence into being came,
Breath'd the pure air, and felt the vital flame!
Say, is not this a noble scheme, a piece
Worthy the Stagyrite, and worthy Greece?

But now, acute philosopher, declare
How this rotation of the heavenly sphere
Can mingle fire and water, earth and air?
The fire that dwells beneath the lunar ball,
To meet ascending earth, must downward fall.
Now turn your sphere contiguous to the fire,
Will from its seat that element retire?
The sphere could never drive its neighbour down,
But give a circling motion, like its own.
So give the air impression from above,
It in a whirl vertiginous would move;
And thus the rolling spheres can ne'er displace
The fire or air, to make a mingled mass;
The elements distinct might keep their seat,
Elude the ruffle, and your scheme defeat.

But since th' applauded author will demand
For complex bodies no director's hand;
Since art without an artist he maintains,
A building rears without a builder's pains ;
He comes at length to Epicurus' scheme,
Pleas'd by his model compound works to frame.
One all his various atoms does unite

To form mixt things; the famous Stagyrite,
By his invented elements combin'd,
Composes beings of each different kind;
But both agree, while both alike deny
The gods did e'er their care or thought apply

To form or rule this universal frame,

Which or from Fate or casual concourse came.
Whether to raise the world you are inclin'd

By this man's chance, or that man's fate, as blind;
If still mechanic, necessary laws

Of moving matter must all beings cause;
If artful works from a brute cause result,
From springs unknown, and qualities occult;
With schemes alike absurd our reason you insult.
And now, to finish this less pleasant task,
Of our renown'd philosopher we ask,
How was the Earth determin'd to its place?
Why did it first the middle point embrace?
What blandishinents, what strong attractive power,
What happy arts adapted to allure,

Were by that single point of all the void,
To captivate and charm the mass, employ'd?
Or what machines, what grapples did it cast
On Earth, to fix it to the centre fast?
But if the Earth, by strong enchantment caught,
This point of all the vacant fondly sought,
Since it is unintelligent and blind,
Could it the way, the nearest could it find?
When at that point arriv'd, how did it know
It was arriv'd, and should no farther go?
When in a globous form collected there,
What wondrous cement made the parts cohere?
Why did the orb suspended there remain
Fix'd and unmov'd? What does its weight sustain ?
Tell what its fall prevents; can liquid air
The ponderous pile on its weak columns bear?
The Earth must, in its gravity's despight,
Uphold itself; our careless Stagyrite,

For its support, has no provision made,
No pillar rear'd, and no foundation laid:
When, by occult and unknown gravity,
'Tis to its station brought, it there must lie
In undisturb'd repose; in vain we ask him, why?
Say, if the world uncaus'd did ne'er begin,
If Nature what it is has always been;
Why do no arms the poet's song employ
Before the Theban war, or siege of Troy?
And why no elder histories relate

The rise of empires, and the turns of state?
If generations infinite are gone,
Tell, why so late were arts and letters known?
Their rise and progress is of recent date,
And still we mourn their young imperfect state,
If unconfin'd duration we regard,
And time be with eternity compar'd,
But yesterday the sages of the East

First some crude knowledge of the stars exprest.
In sacred emblems Egypt's sons conceal'd
Their mystic learning, rather than reveal'd.
Greece after this, for subtle wit renown'd,
The sciences and arts improv'd or found;
First, causes search'd, and Nature's secret ways;
First taught the bards to sing immortal lays;
The charms of music and of painting rais'd,
And was for building first, and first for sculpture,
prais'd.

Man in mechanic arts did late excel,
That succour life, and noxious power repel;
Which yield supplies for necessary use,
Or which to pleasure or to pomp conduce.
How late was found the loadstone's magic force,
That seeks the north, and guides the sailor's course!
How newly did the printer's curious skill
Th' enlighten'd world with letter'd volumes fill !
But late the kindled powder did explode
The massy ball, and the brass tube unload;
The tube, to whose loud thunder Albion owes
The laurel honours that adorn her brows;
Which awful, during eight renown'd campaigns,
From Belgia's hills, and Gallia's frontier plains,
Did through th' admiring realms around proclaim
Marlborough's swift conquest, and great Anna's
name!

By this the leader of the British powers Shook Menin, Lilla, and high Ganda's towers; Next his wide engines levell'd Tournay's pride, Whose lofty walls advancing foes defy'd: Though nitrous tempests, and clandestine death, Fill'd the deep caves and numerous vaults beneath, Which, form'd with art, and wrought with endless

toil,

Ran through the faithless excavated soil.
See, the intrepid Briton delves his way,
And to the caverns lets in war and day;
Quells subterranean foes, and rises crown'd
With spoils, from martial labour under ground.
Mons, to reward Blarignia's glorious field,
To Marlborough's terrours did submissive yield.
The hero next assail'd proud Doway's head;
And, spite of confluent inundations spread
Around, in spite of works for sure defence
Rais'd with consummate art, and cost immense,
With unexampled valour did succeed:
(Villars, thy host beheld the hardy deed!)
Aria, Venantia, Bethune, and Bouchain,
Of his long triumphs close th' illustrious train
While thus his thunder did his wrath declare,
And artful lightnings flash'd along the air,

VOL. X.

Somona's castles, with th' impetuous roar,
Astonish'd tremble, but their warriors more:
Lutetia's lofty towers, with terrour struck,
Caught the contagion, and at distance shook.
Tell, Gallic chiefs, for you have often heard
His dreadful cannon, and his fire rever'd,
Tell, how you rag'd, when your pale coborts run
From Marlborough's sword, the battle scarce begun,
Tell, Scaldis! Legia, tell! how to their head
Your frighted waves in refluent terrours fled.
While Marlborough's cannon thus prevails by
land,

Britain's sea-chiefs, by Anna's high command,
Resistless o'er the Tuscan billows ride,

And strike rebellowing caves on either side;
Their sulphur tempests ring from shore to shore,
Now make the Ligur start, and now the Moor.
Hark! how the sound disturbs imperious Rome,
Shakes her proud hills, and rolls from dome to
dome!

Her mitred princes hear the echoing noise,
And, Albion, dread thy wrath, and awful voice.
Aided by thee, the Austrian eagles rise
Sublime, and triumph in Iberian skies.
What panic fear, what anguish, what distress,
What consternation, Gallia's sons express,
While, trembling on the coast, they from afar
View the wing'd terrours, and the floating war!

CREATION.

BOOK VI.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE fabulous account of the first rise of mankind, given by the ancient poets. The opinions of many of the Greek philosophers concerning that point not less ridiculous. The assertion of Epicurus and his followers, that our first parents were the spontaneous production of the Earth, most absurd and incredible. The true origin

of man inquired into. He is proved to be at • first created by an intelligent, arbitrary Cause; from the characters and impressions of contrivance, art, and wisdom, which appear in his formation. The wonderful progress of it. The figure, situation, and connection of the bones. The system of the veins, and that of the arteries. The manner of the circulation of the blood described. Nutrition, how performed. The system of the nerves. Of the animal spirits, how made, and how employed in muscular motion and sensation. A wise, intelligent Cause inferred from these appearances.

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