Lucretius first, a mighty hero, fprings
Into the field, and his own triumph fings.
He brings, to make us from our ground retire,
The reasoner's weapons, and the poet's fire.
The tuneful fophift thus his battle forms,
Our bulwarks thus in polifh'd armour storms :
To parent matter things their being owe,
Because from nothing no productions flow;
And, if we grant no pre-exiftent feed,
Things, different things, from what they do, might
breed,
And any thing from any thing proceed;
The fpicy groves might Scythia's hills adorn,
The thiftle might the amaranth have borne,
The vine the lemon, and the grape the thorn;
Herds from the hills, men from the feas might rise, 135
From woods the whales, and lions from the fkies.
Th' elated bard here, with a conqueror's air,
Difdainful fmiles, and bids his foes defpair.
But, Carus, here you use poetic charms,
And not affail us with the reafoner's arms.
Where all is clear, you fancy'd doubts remove,
And what we grant with eafe, with labour prove.
What you would prove, but cannot, you decline;
But chufe a thing you can, and there you
Tell us, fam'd Roman, was it e'er denied,
That feeds for fuch productions are supplied?
That Nature always muft materials find
For beafts and trees, to propagate their kind?
All generation, the rude peasant knows,
A pre-exiftent matter must suppose.
But what to Nature first her being gave?
Tell, whence your atoms their existence have?
We ask you, whence the feeds conftituent spring
Of every plant, and every living thing?
Whence every creature fhould produce its kind,
And to its proper fpecies be confin'd?
To answer this, Lucretius, will require
More than fweet numbers and poetic fire..
But fee how well the Poet will fupport
His caufe, if we the argument retort.
If Chance alone could manage, fort, divide,
And, beings to produce, your atoms guide;
If cafual concourse did the world compofe,
And things from hits fortuitous arose;
Then any thing night come from any thing;
For how from chance can conftant order spring?
The forest oak might bear the blufhing rose,
And fragrant myrtles thrive in Ruffian fnows;
The fair pomegranate might adorn the pine,
The grape the bramble, and the floe the vine;
Fish from the plains, birds from the floods might rise,
And lowing herds break from the starry skies.
But, fee, the chief does keener weapons chufe,
Advances bold, and thus the fight renews :
"If I were doubtful of the fource and spring "Whence things arife, I from the fkies could bring, "And every part of Nature, proofs, to show "The world to Gods cannot its being owe; "So full of faults is all th' unartful frame : "First we the air's unpeopled defert blame.
"Brute beafts poffefs the hill, and shady wood;
"Much do the lakes, but more the ocean's flood
"(Which fevers realms, and shores divided leaves),
"Take from the land by interposing waves;
"One third, by freezing cold and burning heat,
“Lies a deform'd, inhofpitable feat;
"The reft, unlabour'd, would by nature breed
"Wild brambles only, and the noxious weed,
"Did not indufirious man, with endless toil,
"Extort his food from the reluctant foil;
"Did not the farmer's fteel the furrow wound,
"And harrows tear the harvest from the ground,
"The earth would no fpontaneous fruits afford
"To man, her vain imaginary Lord.
"Oft', when the labouring hind has plough'd the field, "And forc'd the glebe unwillingly to yield, "When green and flowery Nature crowns his hope "With the gay promife of a plenteous crop, "The fruits (fad ruin!) perifh on the ground, "Burnt by the Sun, or by the deluge drown'd; “Or foon decay, by fnows immoderate chill'd, "By winds are blafted, or by lightning kill'd. "Nature, befides, the favage beast sustains, "Breeds in the hills the terror of the plains, "To man a fatal race. Could this be fo, "Did gracious Gods difpofe of things below? "Their proper plagues with annual feasons come, "And deaths untimely blaft us in the bloom. "Man at his birth (unhappy fon of grief!) "Is helpless caft on the wide coafts of life,
"In want of all things whence our comforts flow;
"A fad and moving fpectacle of woe.
"Infants in ill-prefaging cries complain,
"As confcious of a coming life of pain.
"All things meantime to beasts kind Nature grants, "Prevents their sufferings, and fupplies their wants; Brought forth with cafe, they grow, and skip, and "No dangling nurse, or jingling gewgaw, need; [feed, "In caves they lurk, or o'er the mountains range, "Nor ever through the year their garment change; 220 "Unvers'd in arms, and ignorant of war,
They need no forts, and no invafion fear;
"Whate'er they want, from Nature's hand they gain ; "The life fhe gave, fhe watches to maintain."
Thus impotent in fenfe, though ftrong in rage, 225 The daring Roman does the Gods engage : But undifmay'd' we face th' intrepid foe, Suftain his onfet, and thus ward the blow.
Suppofe defects in this terreftrial feat,
That Nature is not, as you urge, compleat;
That a divine and wife Artificer
Might greater wonders of his art confer,
And might with eafe on man, and man's abode,
More bounty, more perfection, have bestow'd;
If in this lower world he has not shown
His utmost skill, fay, has he therefore none ?
We in productions arbitrary fee
Marks of perfection, different in degree.
Though masters now more fkill, now lefs impart,
Yet are not all their works the works of art ?
Do poets ftill fublimer fubjects fing,
Still stretch to Heaven a bold afpiring wing,
Nor e'er defcend to flocks and labouring fwains,
Frequent the floods, or range the humble plains?
Did, Grecian Phidias, all thy pieces fhine
With equal beauty or, Apelles, thine?
Or Raphael's pencil never chufe to fall?
Say, are his works Transfigurations all?
Did Buonorota never build, O Rome,
A meaner ftructure, than thy wondrous dome >
Though, in their works applauded as their best,
Greater defign and genius are expreft,
Yet is there none acknowledg'd in the rest?
In all the parts of Nature's fpacious sphere
Of art, ten thoufand miracles appear:
And will you not the Author's skill adore,
Becaufe you think he might difcover more?
You own a watch th' invention of the mind,
Though for a fingle motion 'tis defign'd
As well as that, which is with greater thought,
With various fprings, for various motions wrought.
An independent, wife, and confcious Caufe,
Who freely acts by arbitrary laws,
Who at connexion and at order aims,
Creatures diftinguish'd in perfection frames.
Unconscious caufes only ftill impart
Their utmoft skill, their utmost power exert.
Thofe, which can freely chufe, difcern, and know,
In acting can degrees of vigour fhow,
And more of lefs of art or care beftow.
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