To each unthinking being, Heaven, a friend, Gives not the useless knowledge of its end: To Man imparts it; but with such a view As, while he dreads it, makes him hope it too: The hour conceal'd, and so remote the fear, Death still draws nearer, never seeming near. Great standing miracle! that Heaven assign'd Its only thinking thing this turn of mind. II. Whether with reason or with instinct blest, Know, all enjoy that power which suits them best; 80 To bliss alike by that direction tend, And find the means proportion'd to their end. Say, where full instinct is th' unerring guide, What pope or council can they need beside? Reason, however able, cool at best, Cares not for service, or but serves when press'd, Stays till we call, and then not often near; But honest instinct comes a volunteer, Sure never to o'ershoot, but just to hit; While still too wide or short is human wit; 90 Sure by quick nature happiness to gain, Which heavier reason labours at in vain. This, too serves always, reason never long; One must go right, the other may go wrong. See then the acting and comparing powers One in their nature, which are two in ours; And reason raise o'er instinct as you can, In this 'tis God directs, in that 'tis Man. Who taught the nations of the field and wood To shun their poison, and to choose their food? 100 Prescient, the tides or tempests to withstand, Build on the wave, or arch beneath the sand? Who made the spider parallels design, Sure as De Moivre, without rule or line? Who bid the stork, Columbus-like, explore Heavens not his own, and worlds unknown before? Who calls the council, states the certain day, Who forms the phalanx, and who points the way?