What laws are these? inftruct us if you can:-
There's one defign'd for brutes, and one for man:
Another guides inactive matter's course,

Attracting, and attracted by its force:
Hence mutual gravity fubfifts between
Far diftant worlds, and ties the vast machine.
The laws of life why need I call to mind,
Obey'd by birds, and beafts of every kind;
By all the fandy defart's favage brood,

And all the num'rous offspring of the flood;
Of these none uncontroul'd, and lawless rove,
But to fome deftin'd end spontaneous move.
Led by that instinct, heav'n itself inspires,
Or fo much reason, as their state requires ;
See all with skill acquire their daily food,
All use those arms, which Nature has bestow'd;
Produce their tender progeny, and feed
With care parental, whilft that care they need;
In these lov'd offices compleatly blest,

No hopes beyond them, nor vain fears moleft.

Man o'er a wider field extends his views; God through the wonders of his works pursues, Exploring thence his attributes, and laws, Adores, loves, imitates th' Eternal Cause;

For fure in nothing we approach so nigh
The great example of divinity,

As in benevolence: the patriot's foul
Knows not self-center'd for itself to roll,

But warms, enlightens, animates the whole:
Its mighty orb embraces first his friends,
His country next, then man; nor here it ends,
But to the meaneft animal defcends.

Wife Nature has this focial law confirm'd;
By forming man fo helpless, and unarm'd;
His want of others' aid, and pow'r of speech
T' implore that aid, this leffon daily teach.
Mankind with other animals compare,

Single how weak, and impotent they are!
But view them in their complicated state,

Their pow'rs how wond'rous, and their ftrength how great,
When social virtue individuals joins,

And in one folid mafs, like gravity combines !
This then's the first great law by Nature giv'n,

Stamp'd on our fouls, and ratify'd by Heav'n;
All from utility this law approve,

As every private blifs muft fpring from focial love.
Why deviate then so many from this law?
See paffions, cuftom, vice, and folly draw!

Survey the rolling globe from East to West,
How few, alas! how very few are bleft?
Beneath the frozen poles, and burning line,
What poverty, and indolence combine,

To cloud with Error's mifts the human mind?
No trace of man, but in the form we find.

And are we free from error, and distress,

Whom Heav'n with clearer light has pleas'd to blefs?
Whom true Religion leads? (for she but leads

By foft perfuafion, not by force proceeds ;)
Behold how we avoid this radiant fun!

This proffer'd guide how obftinately fhun,
And after Sophistry's vain systems run!
For these as for effentials we engage
In wars, and maffacres, with holy rage;
Brothers by brothers' impious hands are flain,
Miftaken Zeal, how favage is thy reign!
Unpunish'd vices here fo much abound,
All right, and wrong, all order they confound;
These are the giants, who the gods defy,
And mountains heap on mountains to the sky.
Sees this th' Almighty Judge, or feeing spares,
And deems the crimes of man beneath his cares?

He fees; and will at last rewards bestow,
And punishments, not less affur'd for being flow.
Nor doubt I, though this ftate confus'd appears,
That ev'n in this God fometimes interferes :

Sometimes, left man should quite his pow'r disown,
He makes that pow'r to trembling nations known :
But rarely this; not for each vulgar end,
As Superftition's idle tales pretend,

Who thinks all foes to God, who are her own,
Directs his thunder, and ufurps his throne.

Nor know I not, how much a conscious mind
Avails to punish, or reward mankind;
Ev'n in this life thou, impious wretch, must feel
The Fury's fcourges, and th' infernal wheel;
From man's tribunal, though thou hop'ft to run,
Thyself thou can'ft not, nor thy conscience shun:
What must thou fuffer, when each dire disease,
The progeny of Vice, thy fabric feize?
Confumption, fever, and the racking pain

Of spasms, and gout, and ftone, a frightful train !
When life new tortures can alone fupply,

Life thy fole hope thou'lt hate, yet dread to die.

Should fuch a wretch to num'rous years arrive,

It can be little worth his while to live;

No

No honors, no regards his

age

attend,

Companions fly: he ne'er could have a friend:
His flatterers leave him, and with wild affright
He looks within, and shudders at the fight:
When threat'ning Death uplifts his pointed dart,
With what impatience he applies to art,
Life to prolong amidst disease and pains!
Why this, if after it no fenfe remains?
Why should he choose these miseries to endure,
If Death could grant an everlasting cure?
'Tis plain there's fomething whispers in his ear,
(Though fain he'd hide it) he has much to fear.
See the reverfe! how happy those we find,
Who know by merit to engage mankind!
Prais'd by each tongue, by every heart belov❜d,
For Virtues practis'd, and for Arts improv'd:
Their eafy aspects fhine with smiles ferene,
And all is peace, and happiness within:
Their fleep is ne'er disturb'd by fears, or strife,
Nor luft, nor wine, impair the fprings of life.

Him Fortune cannot fink, nor much elate,
Whose views extend beyond this mortal state;
By age when fummon'd to refign his breath,
Calm, and ferene, he fees approaching death,