University of Virginia Library

The MICROCOSM, asserting the Dignity of Man.

This Essay of mine was occasioned by an ingenious Poem, called the Universe; which takes in the most curious Parts of Nature with a beautiful Variety: I think that Scripture favours the opposite Side; tho' here accus'd of Self-Love and Arrogance. I refer the whole of this Argument to Psalm 8. where it is expressed with a significant and elegant Brevity.

On this Subject I first intended a larger Introduction: Bus as I design, not Controversy, but Contrast, shall content myself with what I have premised.

Ascend, my Soul, and elevate thy Thought,
To view the Wonders by thy Maker wrought;
To yon bright Arch thy dazzled Eyes erect,
And in the Work confess the Architect:
Then, looking down, contracted in a Span,
Behold another Universe in Man.
Dust is his Origin, and Earth his Place:
But on the Mother's Side tho' Man be base,
Sprung from the sacred Sire, to Heav'n ally'd,
The conscious Soul maintains her noble Pride,
Nor is it Pride: What Gratitude were due
Unless the Value of the Gift she knew?
No more, O Man! thy Faculties disgrace;
Nor seek to herd among the reptile Race:
Nor thro' the boundless Fields of Æther roam,
Lost in thy Search—Begin thy Search at Home.
Think on thy first Forefather when he lay
Inanimate upon his native Clay:
The beauteous Symmetry, tho' not inspir'd
With vital Breath, was then to be admir'd.
When Art but imitates in Parian Stone,
The swelling Muscles, and the jointed Bone,
The steady Thighs, the Ribs with easy Sweep,
Which all erect the stately Posture keep,
The supple Knee, the Ancles firm to stand,
The bending Fingers, and the grasping Hand,
The Neck, with gentle Negligence inclin'd,
The lively Features that express the Mind,
When thus, tho' from the Marble hard and rude,
With yielding Flesh the Figure seems endu'd,
How can its Air to Veneration move?
Or the cold Iv'ry warm the Carver's Love?
What this external Mold contains within
Unseen, unknown; to actuate the Machine,
Or why the whole, or why the Parts were made,
Each for itself, and each for mutual Aid,
Remains to ask; See! from the Ground he springs.
What Pow'r has giv'n the grov'ling Creature Wings?
See! how to Heav'n he casts his op'ning Eyes;
New to the Scene of Wonders he descries:
Then runs, and leaps, perceives and understands,
And lifts with sudden Ecstasy his Hands;
Say, whence am I? and whence these Objects all
That strike my Sense? He calls, or seems to call.
What is that Sense? how downward from the Brain
The subtile Nerves deduce their artful Chain,
And what æthereal Juice their Tubes contain,
What to the Ear impulsive Air conveys,
What in the Eye collects the visual Rays,
Let Reason trace; in all their Mazes lost:
The smallest Work commends the Artist most.
Yet Usefulness of Parts, and Sense acute,
Man but enjoys in common with the Brute:
They move, and feed, and leave their Like behind:
To Him a nobler Province is assign'd,
To worship God, and benefit his Kind.
When from the Sun his Fire Prometheus stole,
Cou'd that give Reason to the human Soul?
That vital Fire each as he likes explain;
Lodg'd in the Heart, or lab'ring in the Brain,
From whence the circulating Spirits flow;
Pleasure or Pain their Action may bestow,
But 'tis the Mind determines Bliss or Woe.
Who was it first the infant Tongue unbound,
And tun'd it to the Elements of Sound?
The World of Beings by their Names to call,
Or by soft Intervals to rise and fall?
The mimic Parrot ecchoes what is taught;
The Speech of Man is the Result of Thought:
The Lark and Linnet Strain their warbling Throats;
But not a Word accompanies their Notes.
O! then to God thy double Tribute bring!
Reason to speak his Works, and Verse to sing.
Since such Pre-eminence is thine alone,
In these great Gifts their greater Author own:
Nor doubt that all was giv'n to thy Command,
Arm'd with that useful Instrument, the Hand,
To tame thy Vassals of the Air and Land.
By this, and Reason's Aid be taught to shear
The bleating Sheep, and break the sturdy Steer:
Thine is the Robe the curling Fleeces yield;
And thine the Plenty of the furrow'd Field.
Go, lure the Falcon from his airy Way;
Not for himself the Taker takes the Prey:
Toss'd from his Master's Hand he soars above,
And chaces thro' the Clouds the trembling Dove;
Or grapples with the Heron, when on high,
He rends her finny Captives in the Sky.
Go; teach the gen'rous Courser not to fear,
When the shrill Trumpet terrifies the Ear:
In equal Rank to keep or change his Ground;
Tho' Thousands fall, and Thunder roars around.
Lybians and Indians, marching to the War,
May scorn the fiery Steed, and rolling Car:
Amid the swarthy Host aloft appears
A living Bulk, that crested Turrets bears.
Forward he presses on the adverse Foe;
While the bold Archer deals his Darts below.
Who taught to manage that unweildy Strength?
Or, with the sinewy Trunk's enormous Length,
His mounting Rider to his Seat to aid?
Or pierce the thickest Legions undismay'd
Tho' in impenetrabie Scales array'd?
When Behemoth the ruling Voice obeys:
Or from the Field his wounded Lord conveys.
Go; from the Mountain fell the lofty Pine:
Since all the Forests on his Brows are thine:
And Reason gives, thy Labours to prepare,
The Wedge and Ax, the Compasses and Square.
Raise the tall Mast, and rib the solid Sides;
Build the stout Vessel that, with Winds and Tides,
May seek the Regions which the Sea divides;
Or steer thy Course, where, by the frozen Poles,
Leviathan upon the Ocean rolls;
And the fierce Sea-horse sleeps on icey Shoals.
Tho' he the rattling of thy Shafts deride,
Tho' he be Sov'reign o'er the Sons of Pride.
When from thy Hand the piercing Barb is thrown
The Monster trembles, tho' his Heart be stone:
Wounded he roars, and drags the length'ning Line,
And mingled with his Blood he spouts the Brine,
Lash'd by his ample Tail the frothy Surges shine:
Then to the shallow Shores for Safety flies;
While on his Back whole Groves of Lances rise.
Who to these Arts, O Mortal! led thy Way?
To rule the Brutes made thee more wise than they,
The Wild to conquer, while the Tame obey?
Or canst thou doubt that Nature's golden Law
Once kept spontaneous Innocence in Awe?
Tho' then the Rebel Beast refus'd thy Yoak,
When Rebel Man to God his Fealty broke.
What various Life in lesser Forms we see?
Who first instructed the laborious Bee,
Not in our Rules of Architecture skill'd,
Sexangular her waxen Dome to build,
To lodge her Brood, and hoard her luscious Store?
Mark!—and the great Geometer adore.
Unweary'd she collects the flow'ry Bloom,
For Man to rifle the nectareous Comb:
With fragrant Herbs to temper in the Bowl,
To cool his Veins and chear his fainting Soul;
Or dire intestine Tortures to allay,
The lab'ring Lungs, and Stone's impetuous Way.
Nor think thy Maker was in Part unkind,
And to minuter Objects left thee blind,
When in the Microscope thou canst descry,
The Gnat's sharp Spear, the Muscles of a Fly:
These might at Random thy Inquiry Scape;
But there thou may'st examine all their Shape.
There the gay Down of Insects to behold,
Or Millions crowding in the Plumb's blue Mold,
Or in the Acorn view the branching Tree;
Wiser or better dost thou seek to be?
Acknowledge him who taught Mankind to try
The curious Use of that fictitious Eye.
Look to yon Heav'n above: was that design'd
To serve thy Wants, or exercise thy Mind?
Tho' that fair Moon, to chear the gloomy Night,
Around thy Globe conveys her borrow'd Light;
Tho' other Stars, each in his proper Sphere,
Divide thy Days and Nights, thy Month and Year,
Beyond thy Ken remoter Orbits run,
In each a System which attends a Sun.
While we look up and gaze and guess below
At what we are not privileg'd to know,
How can thy Pride imagine it shou'd be
He who rules there shou'd cast an Eye to thee?
Be that confess'd; we own his Care the more,
Who taught to find those Worlds unknown before,
Who summons each by Name, and numbers all their Store.
Nor is it long since Reason cou'd invent
An Eye to pierce the distant Firmament:
A thousand Stars disclosing to our View,
Or in Appearance or Discov'ry new,
But what from them to Mortals can accrue?
Their Influence in a Space, so vast and void,
Must all be dissipated and destroy'd.
What are the Beings that inhabit there?
Or how their Nature suited to their Sphere?
Where wou'd that Icarns of Fancy rove,
And then drop headlong from his Flight above?
Ambition! never weep for Worlds unknown;
But learn to be contented with thy own.
Yet these are thine; as destin'd to conduce
Connected to thy necessary Use:
As in their Turns they rise and disappear,
To point the rural Labours of the Year.
Led by these Lights, for Knowledge or for Gain,
Launch the good Ship, and plough the spacious Main:
And on whatever Spot by Tempest tost,
Explore thy Distance from thy native Coast.
This little World, where we pretend to Sway,
One Half, for Ages, undiscover'd lay:
The Sailor then, the Magnet's Aid unknown,
And scar'd with Monsters of the torrid Zone,
Believ'd the verdant Cape the farthest Ground;
And all beyond was lost in Sea profound,
Or old Atlantis in Oblivion drown'd.
That other Pole, that sinks beneath our Sight,
They doom'd to Waters or eternal Night:
Not so Columbus; and he judg'd aright.
Sedate, tho' bold, and resolute, tho' wise,
Distress, and Storms. and Envy to despise,
O'er the wide Waves he led the dauntless Crew,
Fame, Wealth, and Empire, all at once in View.
Where other Shores arise and Stars appear:
And the fair Crosiers light the Southern Sphere.
Yet Man was there; tho' rude in Arts like ours,
The same in all his Faculties and Pow'rs:
And with the same inventive Wit inspir'd
To find what his Necessity requir'd.
Irregular to Heav'ns more usual Laws,
Say, whence his Train the fiery Comet draws?
Thro' what unfathom'd void his Course is bound?
Or how to vanish in the vast Profound?
Let Halley this, or Newton this explain;
And fix his Period to return again:
While the pale Vulgar sees, with wild Amaze,
The Sword of God, unsheath'd for Vengeance blaze.
Avert that Omen, Heav'n! avert our Guilt:
Enough, alas! of native Blood is spilt.
Yet neither they determine, nor presage:
The Lord of Hosts commands when War shall rage,
To tame the Licence of an impious Age.
A Mind that grasps the habitable Ball,
Aspires to Heav'n, and strives to measure all.
Whether at Objects so remote from hence
She guess aright, or err with specious Sense,
Superior Excellence of Man proclaims:
Tho' oft mistaking in his glorious Aims.
His boasted Science by Degrees he gains,
As op'ning Truth rewards his tiresome Pains:
For that acquir'd without the Labour try'd,
Would sink its Worth and elevate his Pride.
Labour to Man was as his Portion giv'n;
How just and how benevolent is Heav'n!
The Soul from stupid Indolence to raise;
To trace the great Creator's mystic Ways.
And much, O Mortal! to thy curious Mind,
Has Time reveal'd; and much Remains behind:
Leave that to Heav'n, and know thy Search confin'd.
Howe'er important thy Discov'ries are,
Another Age demands an equal Share.
Number, and Weight and Measure to explain,
Can thy small Heart this ample World contain?
Yet there has God infix'd the keen Desire;
Excites, and not forbids thee to inquire:
A pleasing Task! tho' none can comprehend
Its first Beginning, or its latest End.
How well was that Advice thyself to know,
Ascrib'd to Heav'n by Sages long ago!
Thy very Doubt of all these wond'rous Things.
From that high Monitor within thee springs.
Daughter of Heav'n, my Soul! for such thou art,
Not of material Elements a Part,
On this fair Scene thy present Sense employ:
But raise thy nobler Hope to future Joy.
Tho' Heav'n shall vanish, and the Stars shall fall,
And rolling Flames dissolve this earthly Ball,
The Just in happy Mansions shall remain,
While Worlds shall perish, and revive again.