As alphabets in ivory employ,
Hour after hour, the yet unletter'd boy,
Sorting and puzzling with a deal of glee
Those feeds of science call'd his A B C ;
So language in the mouths of the adult,
Witness its infignificant refult,

Too often proves an implement of play,
A toy to sport with, and pass time away.
Collect at evening what the day brought fort,
Compress the fum into its folid worth,
And if it weigh th' importance of a fly,
The fcales are falfe, or Algebra a lie.
Sacred interpreter of human thought,
How few respect or use thee as they ought!
But all shall give account of every wrong,
Who dare difhonour or defile the tongue,
Who prostitute it in the cause of vice,
Or fell their glory at a market-price,
Who vote for hire, or point it with lampoon,

The dear-bought placeman, and the cheap buffoon.
There is a prurience in the speech of some,

Wrath ftays him, or elfe God would ftrike them

dumb;

His wife forbearance has their end in view,

They fill their measure and receive their due.
The heathen law-givers of ancient days,
Names almoft worthy of a Chriftian praise,

Would

Would drive them forth from the resort of men,

And shut up every fatyr in his den.

Oh come not ye, near innocence and truth,
Ye worms that eat into the bud of youth!
Infectious as impure, your blighting pow'r
Taints in its rudiments the promis'd flow'r,
Its odour perish'd and its charming hue,
Thenceforth 'tis hateful, for it smells of
you.
Not ev'n the vigorous and headlong rage
Of adolefcence or a firmer age,
Affords a plea allowable or juft,

For making speech the pamperer of lust;
But when the breath of age commits the fault,
'Tis naufeous as the vapor of a vault.
So wither'd ftumps difgrace the sylvan scene,
No longer fruitful and no longer green,
The fapless wood, divefted of the bark,
Grows fungous and takes fire at ev'ry spark.

Oaths terminate, as Paul obferves, all ftrife-
Some men have furely then a peaceful life;
Whatever fubject occupy discourse,
The feats of Veftris or the naval force,
Affeveration bluft'ring in your face,

BLI

Makes contradiction fuch an hopeless case;
In ev'ry tale they tell, or falfe or true,
Well known, or fuch as no man ever knew,

I 3

13

LE

They fix attention, heedlefs of your pain,
With oaths like rivets forced into the brain;
And ev'n when fober truth prevails throughout,
They fwear it, 'till affirmance breeds a doubt.
A Perfian, humble fervant of the fun,
Who though devout yet bigotry had none,
Hearing a lawyer, grave in his address,
With adjurations ev'ry word impress,
Supposed the man a bishop, or at least,
God's name fo much upon his lips, a priest;
Bowed at the close with all his graceful airs,
And begg'd an int'reft in his frequent pray'rs.

Go quit the rank to which ye ftood preferr'd,
Henceforth affociate in one common herd;
Religion, virtue, reafon, common fenfe,
Pronounce your human form a falfe pretence,
A mere disguise in which a devil lurks,

Who yet betrays his fecret by his works.

Ye pow'rs who rule the tongue, if fuch there are,

And make colloquial happiness your care,

Preferve me from the thing I dread and hate,
A duel in the form of a debate;

The clash of arguments and jar of words,

Worse than the mortal brunt of rival fwords,
Decide no queftion with their tedious length,
For oppofition gives opinion strength,

Divert the champions, prodigal of breath,
And put the peaceably-difpofed to death.
Oh thwart me not, Sir Soph. at ev'ry turn,
Nor carp at ev'ry flaw you may difcern,
Though fyllogifms hang not on my tongue,
I am not surely always in the wrong;
"Tis hard if all is falfe that I advance,

A fool must now and then be right, by chance,
Not that all freedom of diffent I blame,
No-there I grant the privilege I claim.
A difputable point is no man's ground,
Rove where you please, 'tis common all around,
Difcourfe may want an animated-No-
To brush the furface and to make it flow;
But still remember, if you mean to please,
To prefs your point with modesty and ease.
The mark at which my juster aim I take,
Is contradiction for its own dear fake;
Set your opinion at whatever pitch,

Knots and impediments make something hitch,
Adopt his own, 'tis equally in vain,
Your thread of argument is fnapt again;
The wrangler, rather than accord with you,
Will judge himself deceiv'd and prove it too.
Vociferated logic kills me quite,

A noify man is always in the right,

I twirl my thumbs, fall back into my chair,
Fix on the wainscot a distressful stare,
And when I hope his blunders are all out,
Reply difcreetly-to be fure-no doubt.

DUBIUS is fuch a fcrupulous good man-
Yes-you may catch him tripping if you can.
He would not, with a peremptory tone,
Affert the nose upon his face his own;
With hesitation admirably flow,

He humbly hopes, prefumes it may be so.
His evidence, if he were called by law,
To fwear to fome enormity he faw,
For want of prominence and just relief,
Would hang an honest man, and fave a thief.
Through conftant dread of giving truth offence,
He ties up all his hearers in fufpenfe;

Knows what he knows as if he knew it not,
What he remembers, feems to have forgot;
His fole opinion, whatfoe'er befall,
Cent'ring at laft in having none at all.

Yet though he teaze and baulk your list'ning ear,
He makes one useful point exceeding clear;
Howe'er ingenious on his darling theme,
A sceptic in philosophy may seem,

Reduced to practice, his beloved rule,

Would only prove him a confummate fool;

Ufelefs