IT may be proper to obferve, that fome paffages, in the preceding Effay, having been unjustly fufpected of a tendency towards Fate and Naturalism, the author compofed this Prayer as the fum of all, to fhew that his system was founded in free-will, and terminated in piety: That the firft caufe was as well the Lord and Governor of the Univerfe as the Creator of it; and that, by fubmiffion to his will (the great principle enforced throughout the Effay) was not meant the suffering ourselves to be carried along by a blind determination, but the resting in a religious acquiefcence, and confidence full of Hope and Immortality. To give all this the greater weight, the poet chofe for his model the Lord's Prayer, which, of all others, best deserves the title prefixed to this Paraphrafe.

THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.

FA

DEO OPT. MAX.

ATHER of All! in every Age,
In every Clime ador'd,

By Saint, by Savage, and by Sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou Great First Cause, leaft understood;
Who all my Sense confin'd'

To know but this, that Thou art Good,
And that myself am blind;

What Confcience dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do,
This, teach me more than Hell to shun,
That, more than Heaven purfue.

What Bleffings thy free Bounty gives,
Let me not cast away;'

For God is paid when Man receives,
T' enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to Earth's contracted Span

Thy Goodness let me bound,'
Or think Thee Lord alone of Man,
When thousand Worlds are round

Let not this weak, unknowing hand

Prefume thy bolts to throw,
And deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy Foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay:

If I am wrong, oh teach my neart
To find that better way.

Save me alike from foolish Pride,
Or impious Discontent,
At aught thy Wisdom has deny'd,
Or aught thy Goodness lent.

Teach me to feel another's Woe,
To hide the Fault I fee;

That Mercy I to others show,
That Mercy show to me.

Mean though I am, not wholly fo,
Since quicken'd by thy Breath;

O lead me wherefoe'er I go,

Through this day's Life or Death.

This day, be Bread and Peace my Lot:
All elfe beneath the Sun,

Thou know'ft if beft beftow'd or not,
And let thy Will be done.

To Thee, whose Temple is all Space,

Whofe Altar, Earth, Sea, Skies!

One Chorus let all Being raise !

All Nature's Incense rise!

MORAL

MORAL ESSAY S

IN

FOUR EPISTLES

то

SEVERAL PERSONS.

"Eft brevitate opus, ut currat fententia, neu se
Impediat verbis laffas onerantibus aures:
"Et fermone opus eft modo trifti, fæpe jocofo,
"Defendente vicem modo Rhetoris atque Poetæ,
"Interdum urbani, parcentis viribus, atque,
"Extenuantis eas confultò."

HOR.