To Pleasure never was LORENZO deaf;

Then hear her now, now first thy real Friend.
Since Nature made us not more fond than proud
Of Happiness (whence Hypocrites in Joy!
Makers of Mirth! Artificers of Smiles !)
Why should the Joy moft poignant Senfe affords,
Burn us with Blushes, and rebuke our Pride?
Thofe Heav'n-born Blushes tell us Man defcends,
Ev'n in the Zenith of his earthly Blifs :
Should Reafon take her Infidel Repose,
This honest Instinct (peaks our Lineage high;
This Inftinct calls on Darkness to conceal
Our rapturous Relation to the Stalls.
Our Glory covers us with noble Shame,
And he that's unconfounded, is unmann'd.
The Man that blushes, is not quite a Brute.
Thus far with Thee, LORENZo! will I close;
Pleafure is good, and Man for Pleasure made;
But Pleasure full of Glory, as of Joy;
Pleasure, which neither blufbes, nor expires.

The Witneffes are heard; the Cause is o'er ; Let Confcience file the Sentence in her Court, Dearer than Deeds that half a Realm convey: Thus, feal'd by Truth, th' authentic Record runs. "Know, All; Know, Infidels,-unapt to Know ! ""Tis Immortality your Nature folves;

""Tis Immortality decyphers Man,

"And opens all the Myft'ries of his Make.
"Without it, half his Instincts are a Riddle;
"Without it, all his Virtues are a Dream.
"His very Crimes attest his Dignity;

"His fatelefs Thirst of Pleafure, Gold, and Fame,
Declares him bora for Bleffings infinite:

"What lefs than Infinite, makes un-abfurd

46

Pafions, which all on Earth but more in flames ?...

"Fierce Paffions, fo mif-meafur'd to this Scene,

"Stretch'd out, like Eagles. Wings, beyond our Nest, "Far, far beyond the Worth of all below,

"For Earth too large, prefage a nobler Flight, "And evidence our Title to the Skies."

Ye gentle Theologues, of calmer Kind! Whofe Conftitution dictates to your Pen,

Who, cold yourselves, think Ardor comes from Hell! Think not our Paffions from Corruption fprung, 'Tho' to Corruption now they lend their Wings ;; That is their Mistress, not their Mather. All (And justly) Reafon deem Divine: I fee,

I feel a Grandeur in the Paffions too,

Which speaks their high Defcent, and glorious End ;; Which speaks them Rays of an Eternal Fire..

In Paradife itself they burnt as ftrong,

Ere ADAM fell; tho' wifer in their Aim..

Like the proud Eaftern, ftruck by Providence,.
What tho' our Paffions are run mad, and stoop
With low, terreftrial Appetite, to graze

On Trash, on Toys, dethron'd from high Defire ?
Yet ftill, thro' their Difgrace, a feeble Ray
Of Greatnefs fhines, and tells us whence they fell :
But Thefe (like that fall'n Monarch when reclaim'd),
When Reason moderates the Rein aright,

Shall re-afcend, remount their former Sphere,
Where once they foar'd Illuftrious; ere feduc'd
By wanton EvE's Debauch, to ftroll on Earth,
And fet the fublunary World on Fire..

But grant their Phrenfy lafts; their Phrenfy fails
To difappoint one providential End,

For which Heav'n blew up Ardor in our Hearts :
Were Reafon filent, boundless Paffion fpeaks
A future Scene of boundless Obje&s, too,!
And brings glad Tidings of eternal Day..

Eternal

Eternal Day! 'Tis that enlightens All;
And All, by that enlighten'd, proves it fure.
Confider Man as an immortal Being,
Intelligible All; and All is Great ;

A crystalline Tranfparency prevails,

And ftrikes full Luftre thro' the Human Sphere :
Confider Man as mortal, all is dark,

And wretched; Reafon weeps at the Survey.

The learn'd LORENZO cries, "And let her weep, "Weak, modern Reason: Antient Times were wife. "Authority, that venerable Guide,

"Stands on my Part; the fam'd Athenian Porch

66

(And who for Wisdom fo renown'd as They ?)
Deny'd this Immortality to. Man."

I grant it; but affirm, they prov'd it too..
A Riddle This!-Have Patience; I'll explains.
What noble Vanities, what moral Flights,
Glitt'ring thro' their romantic Wisdom's Page,
Make us, at once, defpife them, and admire?.
Fable is flat to These high-seafon'd'Sires;
They leave, th' Extravagance of Song below.
"Flesh shall not feel; or; feeling, fhall enjoy
"The Dagger; or the Rack; to them, alike:
"A Bed of Rofes, or the burning Bulle"

In Men exploding all beyond the Grave,.
Strange Doctrine, This! As Doctrine, it was strange →
But not, as Prophecy; for fuch it prov'd, '.
And, to their own Amazement, was fulfill'd:
They feign'd a Firmnefs Christians need not feign..
The Chriftian truly triumph'd in the Flame:
The Stoic faw, in double Wonder loft,
Wonder at Them, and Wonder at Himself,
To find the bold Adventures of his Thought
Not bold, and that he ftrove to lye in vain,

Whence, then, thofe Thoughts? Thofe tow'ring
Thoughts, that flew

Such monstrous Heights ?-From Infine, and from Pride.
The glorious Inftinct of a deathless Soul,
Confus'dly confcious of her Dignity,
Suggested Truths they could not understand.
In Luft's Dominion, and in Paffion's Storm,
Truth's Syftem broken, scatter'd Fragments lay,
As Light in Chaos, glimm'ring thro' the Gloom;
Smit with the Pomp of lofty Sentiments,

Pleas'd Pride proclaim'd, what Reason difbeliev'd.
Pride, like the Delphic Prieftefs, with a Swell,
Rav'd Nonsense, deftin'd to be Future Senfe,
When Life Immortal, in full Day, should shine
And Death's dark Shadows fly the Gospel Sun.
They spoke, what nothing but Immortal Souls
Could speak; and thus the Truth they queftion'd, prov'd.
Can then Abfurdities, as well as Crimes,

Speak Man Immortal? All Things speak him fo.
Much has been urg'd; and doft thou call for more?
Call; and with endless Queftions be diftreft,
All unrefolveable, if Earth is All.

"Why Life, a Moment; Infinite, Defire? Our Wish, Eternity? Our Home, the Grave? "Heav'n's Promife dormant lies in human Hope; "Who wifbes Life Immortal, proves it too. "Why Happiness purfu'd, tho' never found? "Man's Thirst of Happiness declares It is, "(For Nature never gravitates to nought); "That Thirft unquencht declares It is not Here. My LUCIA, Thy CLARISSA, call to Thought; "Why cordial Friendship riveted fo deep, "As Hearts to pierce at first, at parting, rend, "If Friend, and Friendship, vanish in an Hour ?. ^. is not This Torment in the Mask of Joy?

"Why

"Why by Reflection marr'd the Joys of Senfe?

Why Paft, and Future, preying on our Hearts? "And putting all our prefent Joys to Death? "Why labours Reason? Inftinct were as well; "Inftinct, far better; what can chufe, can err : "O how infallible the thoughtless Brute! ""Twere well his Holiness were half as fure. "Reafon with Inclination, why at War?

Why Senfe of Guilt? Why Confcience up in Arms ?”
Confcience of Guilt, is Prophecy of Pain,

And Bofom-counfel to decline the Blow.
Reafon with Inclination ne'er had jarr'd,
If nothing Future paid Forbearance Here.
Thus on-These, and a thousand Pleas uncall'd,
All promife, fome enfure, a fecond Scene;
Which, were it doubtful, would be dearer far
Than all Things elfe moft certain; were it falfe,
What Truth on Earth fo precious as the Lye?
This World it gives us, let what will enfue;
This World it gives, in that high Cordial, Hope:
The Future of the prefent is the Soul:

How this Life groans, when fever'd from the next į
Poor, mutilated Wretch, that Difbelieves !
By dark Distrust his Being cut in two,

In both Parts perishes; Life void of Joy,
Sad Prelude of Eternity in Pain !

Couldft Thou perfuade me, the next Life could fail Our ardent Wishes; how fhould I pour out

My bleeding Heart in Anguish, new, as deep!
Oh! with what Thoughts, thy Hope, and my Despair,
Abhorr'd ANNIHILATION! blafts the Soul,
And wide-extends the Bounds of human Woe!
Could I believe LORENZO's Syftem true,

In this black Channel would my Ravings run.

". Grief