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Has not each Element, in Turn, subscrib'd
The Soul's high Price, and sworn it to the Wise?
Has not Flame, Ocean, Æther, Earthquake, Itrove:
To strike this Truth, thro' adamantine Man?
If not All-adamant, Lorenzo ! hear;
All is Delufion ; Natare is wrapt up:
In tenfold Night, from Reason's keenest Eye;
There's no Consistence, Meaning. Plan, or End,
In all beneath the Sun,, in all above,
(As far as Man can penetrate) or Heav'n :
Is an Immense, Inestimable Prize ;
Or All is Nothing, or that Prize is All. -
And shall each Toy be still a Match for Heav'n
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 hast seen (if Thine, to fee) All Nature, and her God, (by Nature's Course, And Nature's Course contrould) declare for me :The Skies. Above proclaim « Immortal. Man!”

“ Man Immortal !” all Below resounds.
The World's a System of Theology,
Read, by the greatest Strangers to the Schools;
If Honefi, Learn'd; and Sages o'er a Plough.
Is not, LORENZO ! then, imposid on Thee,
This hard Alternative ; or, to renounce
Thy Reason, and thy Sense; or, to Believe?
What then is Unbelief? 'Tis an Exploit ;
A strenuous 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 slides, There's nothing to support him in the Right,

And,

Faith in the Future wanting, is, at least
In Embryo, ev'ry Weakness, 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 lain?
'Tis Virtue to pursue our Good Supreme ;
And his Supreme, his only Good is Here.
Ambition, A'rice, by the Wife disdain'd,
Is perfect Wisdom, while Mankind are Fools,
And think a Turf, or Tombstone, covers All ;
These find Employment, and provide for Sense
A richer Pasture, and a larger Range 5
And Sense by Right Divine ascends the Throne,
When Reason's Prize, and Prospect is no more ;
Virtue no more we think the Will of Heav'n;
Would Heav'n quite beggar Virtue, if belov'd ?
Has Virtue Charms :"-I grant Her heav'nly

Fair ;
But if un-portion'd, all will Int'ref 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 Conscience all her Pow'r :
As in the dying Parent dies the Child,
Virtue, with Immortality, expires.
Who tells me He denies his Soul Immortal,
Whate'er his Boast, has told me, He's a Knave.
His Duty 'tis, to love Himself alone,
Nor care tho' Mankind perish, if He smiles.
Who thinks ere-long the Man fhall wholly die,
Is dead already ; nought but Brute survives.

AN) are there such !--Such Candidates there are For more than Death : for utter Lofs of Being ; Being, the Basis of the Deity!

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Ask you the Cause?-The Cause they will not tell;
Nor need they : Oh the Sorceries of Sense !
They work this Transformation on the Soul,
Dismount her from her native Wing, (which foard
Ere-while Æthereal 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, posting into Pain!
Lovers of Argument, averse to Sense !
Boasters of Liberty, faft-bound in Chains !
Lords of the wide Creation, and the Shame!
More Senseless than th' Irrationals you scorn!
More Bafe than those you rule! Than those you pity,
Far more Undone ! Oye moft Infamous
Of Beings, from Superior Dignity!
Deepest in Woe from Means of boundless Bliss ?
Ye curst by Blessings infinite ; Because
Most highly favour'd, most profoundly lost !
Ye motsy 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 Serle,
Your Souls have quite worn out the Make of Heav'ng
By Vice new-cast, and Creatures of your own :
But tho' you can deform, you can't destroy ;
To curse, not uncreate, is all your Pow'r.

LORENZO ! this black Brotherhood renounce
Renounce St. Evremont, and read St. Paul.
Ere rapt by Miracle, by Reason wing'd
His mounting Mind made long Abode in Heav'm.
This is Free-thinking, unconfin'd to Parts,
To send the Soul, on curious Travel bent,
Thro' all the Provinces of Human Thought,

From

From First to Last, (but Laft there none shall be !5.
To dart her Flight, thro' the whole Sphere of Man ;
Of this vast Universe to make the Tour ;
In-each Recefs of Space, and Time, at Home;
Familiar with their Wonders ; diving deep;
And, like a Prince of boundless Int'refts There,
Still most ambitious of the most Remote ;
To look on Truth unbroken, and entire ;
Truth in the System, the full Orb; where Truths
By Truths inlighten'd, and sustain’d, afford
An Arch-like, Arong Foundation, to support
Th' incumbent Weight of absolute, complete
Conviction ; Here, the more we press, we stand
More Firm ; Who most Examine, most Believe.
Parts, like Half-sentences, confound; the Whole
Conveys the Sense, and God is understood;
Who not in Fragments writes to Haman Race ;
Read his whole Volame, Sceptic ! then, Reply.

This, This is Thinking-free, a Thought that grafps-
Beyond a Grain, and looks beyond an Hour.
Turn up thine Eye, fúrvey this Midnight Scene ;-
What are Earth's Kingdoms, to yon boundless Orbs,
Of human Souls, one e Day, the destin'd Range ?
And what yon boundless Orbs, to Godlike Man !*
Those num'rous Worlds that throng the Firmament,
And afk more Space in Heav'n, can rowl at large
In Man's capacious Thought, and Atill leave Room
For ampler Orbs; for new Creations, There.
Can such a Soul contract itself, to gripe
A Point of no Dimension, of no Weight ? :
It can; it does : The World is such a Point,
And, of that Point,,how small a Part inslaves ?

Hów small a Part- of Nothing, fhall I say? Why not ? -Friends, our chief Treasure ! How they drop ?

Lucy,

Lucia, NARCISSA fair, PHILANDER, gone!
The Grave, like fabled Cerberus, has op'd
A Triple Mouth ; and, in an awful Voice,
Loud calls my Soul, and utters All I fing.
How the World falls to-pieces round about us,
And leaves us in a Ruin of our Joy ?
What says, This Transportation of my Friends?
It bids me love the place where now they dwell,
And scorn this wretched Spot, they leave. Co Poor..
Eternity's vast Ocean lies before thee ;
There, There, LORENZO! thy CLARISSA fails.
Give thy Mind Sea-room; keep it wide of Earth,
That Rock of Souls immortal; cut thy Cord,
Weigh Anchor ; Spread thy Sails; call ev'ry Wind i
Eye thy Great Pole-fiar: Make the Land of Life.

Two kinds of Life has double-natur'd Man,
And Two of Death ; the Lait far more severe.
Life animal is nurtur'd by the Sun ;
Thrives on his Bounties, triumphs in his Beams..
Life rational subsists on higher Food,
Triumphant in His Beams, who made the Day.
When we leave that Sun, and are left by this,
(The Fate of all who die in stubborn Guilt)
'Tis utter Darkness; strictly, Double Death.
We sink by no Judicial Stroke of. Heav'ng.
But Nature's. Course ; as sure as Plummets fall,
Since God, or Man, must alter, ere they meet,
(For Light and Darkness blend not in one Sphere)
Tis manifeft, LORENZO, who must change.

IF, then, that Double-death should prove thy Loty,
Blame not the Bowels of the Deity;:
Man shall be blest, as far as Man permits.
Not Man alone, all Rationals, Heav'n arms
With an Illustrious, but Tremendous, Pow'r,
To counter-act Its own most gracious Ends ;
And this, of ftrict Necessity, not Choice ;

That

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