May never more be ftamp'd upon his breast,
Not yet perhaps incurably impress’d.
Where early rest makes early rising sure,
Disease or comes not, or finds easy cure,
Prevented much by diet neat and plain,
Or if it enter, foon starv'd out again :
Where all th' attention of his faithful hoft,
Discreetly limited to two at most,
May raise such fruits as shall reward his care,
And not at last evaporate in air :
Where, stillness aiding study, and his mind
Serene, and to his duties much inclin'd,
Not occupied in day-dreams, as at home,
Of pleasures past or follies yet to come,
His virtuous toil may terminate at last
In settled habit and decided taste.
But whom do I advise? the fashion-led,
Th’incorrigibly wrong, the deaf, the dead,
Whom care and cool deliberation suit
Not better much than spectacles a brute,
Who, if their fons fome flight tuition share,
Deem it of no great moment whose, or where;
Too proud t'adopt the thoughts of one unknown,
And much too gay t' have any of their own.
But courage, man! methought the muse replied,
Mankind are various, and the world is wide;
The ostrich, filliest of the feather'd kind,
And formn'd of God without a parent's mind,


Commits her eggs, incautious, to the dust,
Forgetful that the foot may crush the trust;
And, while on public nurs’ries they rely,
Not knowing, and too oft not caring, why,
Irrational in what they thus prefer,
No few, that would seem wise, resemble her.
But all are not alike. Thy warning voice
May here and there prevent erroneous choice;
And some perhaps, who busy as they are,
Yet make their progeny their dearest care,
(Whose hearts will ache, once told what ills may

Their offspring, left upon so wild a beach)
Will need no stress of argument t’ inforce
Th' expedience of a less advent'rous course ;
The rest will flight thy counfel, or condemn;
But they have human feelingsa-turn to them.

To you then, tenants of life's middle state,
Securely płac'd between the small and great,
Whose character, yet undebauch'd, retains
Two thirds of all the virtue that remains,
Who, wife yourselves, desire your fons should

Your wisdom and your ways—to you I turn.
Look round you on a world perversely blind,
See what contempt is fall’n on human kind
See wealth abus'd, and dignities mifplacid,
Great titles, offices, and trusts disgrac’d,


Long lines of ancestry, renown'd of old,
Their noble qualities all quench'd and cold;
See Bedlam's closetted and hand-cuffd charge
Surpass’d in frenzy by the mad at large ;
See great commanders making war a trade,
Great lawyers, lawyers without study made ;
Churchmen, in whose esteem their blest employ
Is odious, and their wages all their joy,
Who, far enough from furnishing their shelves
With gospel lore, turn infidels themselves ;
See womanhood despis’d, and manhood sham'd
With infamy too nauseous to be nam'd,
Fops at all corners, lady-like in mien,
Civeted fellows, smelt ere they are seen,
Else coarse and rude in manners, and their tongue
On fire with curses and with nonsense hung,
Now flush'd with drunk’ness, now with whoredom

Their breath a sample of last night's regale ;
See volunteers in all the vilest arts,
Men well endow'd, of honourable parts,
Design’d by nature wise, but felf-made fools ;
All these, and more like these, were bred at

schools. And if it chance, as sometimes chance it will, That though school-bred, the boy be virtuous still,


Such rare exceptions shining in the dark,
Prove, rather than impeach the just remark ;;
As here and there a twinkling star descried
Serves but to show how black is all beside. -
Now look on him whose very, voice in tone
Just echoes thine, whose features are thine owny
And stroke his polish'd cheek of purest red,
And lay thine hand upon his flaxen head,
And say, My boy, th’unwelcome hour is come,
When thou, transplanted from thy, genial home,
Must find a colder foil and bleaker air,
And trust for safety to a stranger's care ;
What character, what turn thou wilt assume
From-constant converfe with. I know not whom ;,
Who there will court thy friendship, with what

views,: And, artless as thou arty, whom thou wilt.

chufe ; Though much depends on what thy choice fhall:

be, Is all chance-medley, and unknown to me. Can'st thou, the tear just trembling on thy-lids, And while the dreadful risque foreseen, forbids, , Free too, and under no constraining force, Unless the sway of custom warp thy course, Lay such a stake upon the lofing side, Merely to gratify so blind a guide ?.

Thou : Thou can'st not! Nature, pulling at thine heart, Condemns th' unfatherly, th' imprudent part. Thou would'st not, deaf to Nature's tend'rest

plea, Turn him adrift upon a rolling sea, Nor say, go thither, conscious that there lay A brood of afps, or quicksands in his way; Then, only govern'd by the self-fame rule Of nat'ral pity, send him not to school. No-guard him better : Is he not thine own, Thyself in miniature, thy flesh, thy bone?: And hop'st thou not ('tis ev'ry father's hope) That since thy strength: must with thy years

elope, And thou wilt need some comfort, to assuage Health's last farewell, a staff of thine old age, That then, in recompense of all thy cares, Thy child shall show respect to thy grey hairs, Befriend thee, of all other friends bereft, And give thy life its only cordial left ?. Aware: then how much danger intervenes, To compass that good end, forecast the means. His heart, now passive, yields to thy command ;, Secure it thine, its key is in thine hand. If thou desert thy charge, and throw it wide, Nor heed what guests there enter and abide, Complain not if attachments lewd and base. Supplant thee in it, and usurp thy place.


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