From Heav'n's Omnipotent indulg'd to Man ?-
Because, in Man, the glorious, dreadful Power,
Extremely to be Pain'd, or Bleit, for Ever.
Duration gives Importance, fwells the Price.
An Angel, if a Creature of a Day,

What would He be? A Trifle of no Weight;
Or Stand, or Fall; no Matter which; He's gone.
Because IMMORTAL, therefore is indulg'd

This strange Regard of Deities to Dust.

Hence, Heav'n looks down on Earth with all her Eyes :
Hence, the Soul's mighty Moment in her Sight:
Hence, ev'ry Soul has Partisans Above,

And ev'ry Thought a Critic in the Skies:
Hence, Clay,, vile Clay! has Angels for its Guard,
And ev'ry Guard a Paffion for his Charge:
Hence, from all Age, the Cabinet divine
Has held high Counsel o'er the Fate of Man.

Nor have the Clouds thofe gracious Counfels hid. Angels undrew the Curtain of the Throne, And PROVIDENCE Came forth to meet Mankind: In various Modes of Emphafis, and Awe, He spoke his Will, and trembling Nature heard; He spoke it loud, in Thunder, and in Storm. Witnefs, Thou Sinai! whofe Cloud-cover'd Height, And fhaken Bafis, own'd the present GOD: Witnefs, ye Billows! whofe returning Tide, Breaking the Chain that faften'd it in Air, Swept Egypt, and her Menaces, to Hell:

Witnefs,

:

Witnefs, ye Flames! th' Affyrian Tyrant blew
To fev'nfold Rage, as Impotent, as Strong:
And Thou, Earth! witnefs, whofe expanding Jaws
Clos'd o'er * Prefumption's facrilegious Sons :
Has not each Element, in Turn, subscrib'd
The Soul's high Price, and fworn it to the Wife?
Has not Flame, Ocean, Æther, Earthquake, ftrove
To ftrike this Truth, thro' adamantine Man?
If not All-adamant, LORENZO! hear;
All is Delufion, Nature is wrapt up,

In tenfold Night, from Reafon's keenest Eye;
There's no Confistence, Meaning, Plan, or End,
In all beneath the Sun, in all above,
(As far as Man can penetrate) or Heaven
Is an Immenfe, Ineftimable Prize;
Or All is Nothing, or that Prize is All-
And fhall each Toy be ftill a Match for Heaven?
And full Equivalent for Groans Below?

Who would not give a Trifle to prevent
What He would give a Thousand Worlds to cure?

LORENZO! Thou haft feen (if Thine, to fee) All Nature, and her God (by Nature's Course, And Nature's Course controul'd) declare for me: The Skies Above proclaim "Immortal Man!" And, Man Immortal!" all Below refounds. The World's a Syftem of Theology,

P

Read,

* Korah, &c.

Read, by the greatest Strangers to the Schools;
If Honeft, Learn'd; and Sages o'er a Plough.
Is not, LORENZO! then, impos'd on Thee
This hard Alternative; or, to renounce
Thy Reason, and thy Senfe; or, to Believe?
What then is Unbelief? 'Tis an Exploit ;
A ftrenuous Enterprize: To gain it, Man
Must burst thro' ev'ry Bar of common Sense,
Of common Shame, magnanimously wrong;
And what rewards the sturdy Combatant?
His Prize, Repentance; Infamy, his Crown.

But wherefore, Infamy?-For want of Worth
Down the steep Precipice of Wrong He flides;
There's nothing to fupport him in the Right.
Faith in the Future wanting, is, at least
In Embryo, ev'ry Weaknefs, ev'ry Guilt;
And strong Temptation ripens it to Birth.
If this Life's Gain invites him to the Deed,
Why not his Country fold, his Father slain?
"Tis Virtue to purfue our Good Supreme;
And his Supreme, his Only Good is Here.
Ambition, Avrice, by the Wife difdain'd,
Is perfect Wisdom, while Mankind are Fools,
And think a Turf, or Tombstone, covers All;
Thefe find Employment, and provide for Senfe
A richer Pasture, and a larger Range;
And Senfe by Right divine afcends the Throne,

When

When Reason's Prize and Profpect are no more;
Virtue no more we think the Will of Heaven.
Would Heav'n quite beggar Virtue, if belov'd?

"Has Virtue Charms ?"-I grant Her heavenly Fair ;
But if un-portion'd, all will Int'reft wed;
Tho' That our Admiration, This our Choice.
The Virtues grow on Immortality;

That Root destroy'd, they wither and expire.
A DEITY believ'd, will nought avail;

Rewards and Punishments make GOD ador'd;

And Hopes and Fears give Confcience all her Power:
As in the dying Parent dies the Child,

Virtue, with Immortality, expires.

Who tells me He denies his Soul Immortal,
Whate'er his Boaft, has told me, He's a Knave.
His Duty 'tis, to love Himself alone ;

Nor care tho' Mankind perish, if He fmiles.
Who thinks ere-long the Man fhall wholly die,
Is dead already; nought but Brute furvives.

And are there fuch ?-Such Candidates there are
For more than Death; for utter Lofs of Being;
Being, the Basis of the DEITY!

Afk you the Caufe? The Cause they will not tell;
Nor need they: Oh the Sorceries of Senfe!
The work this Transformation on the Soul,
Difmount her like the Serpent at the Fall,
Dismount her from her native Wing (which foar'd
P 2
Ere-while

Ere-while ethereal Heights), and throw her down,
To lick the Duft, and crawl, in such a Thought.

Is it in Words to paint you! O ye Fall'n!
Fall'n from the Wings of Reafon, and of Hope!
Erect in Stature, Prone in Appetite!

Patrons of Pleasure, pofting into Pain!
Lovers of Argument, averfe to Sense !
Boasters of Liberty, fast-bound in Chains!
Lords of the wide Creation, and the Shame!
More Senfeless than th' Irrationals you fcorn!
More Bafe than thofe you rule! Than those you pity,
Far more Undone! O ye moft infamous

Of Beings, from Superior Dignity!

Deepest in Woe from Means of boundless Blifs!
Ye curft by Bleffings infinite! Because

Moft highly favour'd, moft profoundly loft!
Ye motly Mass of Contradiction strong!

And are you, too, convinc'd, your Souls fly off
In Exhalation soft, and die in Air,

From the full Flood of Evidence against you?
In the coarse Drudgeries, and Sinks of Senfe,
Your Souls have quite worn out the Make of Heaven,
By Vice new-cast, and Creatures of your own:
But tho' you can deform, you can't destroy;

To curfe, not uncreate, is all your Power.

LORENZO! this black Brotherhood renounce;

Renounce St, Evremont, and read St. Paul.

Ere