The Enquiry

How near one Species to the next is join'd, The due Gradations please a thinking Mind; and there are Creatures which no eye can see, That for a Moment live and breathe like me: Whom a small Fly in bulk as far exceeds, As yon tall Cedar does the waving Reeds: These we can reach—and may we not suppose There still are Creatures more minute than those.

 The Universe is One Great Machine

Look round the world, contemplate the whole and every part of it: you will find it to be nothing but one great machine, subdivided into an infinite number of lesser machines, which again admit of subdivisions to a degree beyond what human senses and faculties can trace and explain. All these various machines, and even their most minute parts, are adjusted to each other with an accuracy which ravishes into admiration all men who have ever contemplated them. The curious adapting of means to end...