Points to inscriptions wherefoe'er they tread,
Such as, when legible, were never read,
But, being canker'd now and half worn out,
Craze antiquarian brains with endless doubt;
Some headless hero, or fome Cæfar fhows-
Defective only in his Roman nose;
Exhibits elevations, drawings, plans,

Models of Herculanean pots and pans;
And fells them medals, which, if neither rare
Nor ancient, will be fo, preferv'd with care.

Strange the recital! from whatever caufe

His great improvement and new lights he draws, The fquire, once bashful, is shame-fac'd no more, But teems with pow'rs he never felt before; Whether increas'd momentum, and the force

With which from clime to clime he fped his courfe, (As axles fometimes kindle as they go)

Chaf'd him, and brought dull nature to a glow;

Or whether clearer fkies and fofter air,

That make Italian flow'rs fo fweet and fair,

Fresh'ning his lazy fpirits as he ran,
Unfolded genially, and fpread the man;
Returning, he proclaims, by many a grace,

By fhrugs, and strange contortions of his face,
How much a dunce, that has been fent to roam,
Excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
Accomplishments have taken virtue's place,
And wisdom falls before exterior grace;
We flight the precious kernel of the stone,
And toil to polish its rough coat alone.
A just deportment, manners grac'd with ease,
Elegant phrase, and figure form'd to please,
Are qualities that seem to comprehend
Whatever parents, guardians, fchools, intend;
Hence an unfurnish'd and a listless mind,

Though bufy, trifling; empty, though refin'd;
Hence all that interferes, and dares to clash
With indolence and luxury, is trash;

While learning, once the man's exclusive pride,

Seems verging faft towards the female fide.

Learning itself, receiv'd into a mind

By nature weak, or viciously inclin'd,
Serves but to lead philofophers aftray,

Where children would with eafe difcern the way.
And, of all arts fagacious dupes invent,

To cheat themselves and gain the world's affent, The worst is scripture warp'd from its intent.

The carriage bowls along, and all are pleas'd, If Tom be fober, and the wheels well greas'd; But, if the rogue have gone a cup too far, Left out his linch-pin, or forgot his tar, It fuffers interruption and delay,

way.

And meets with hindrance in the smootheft
When fome hypothefis abfurd and vain
Has fill'd with all its fumes a critic's brain,
The text that forts not with his darling whim,
Though plain to others, is obfcure to him.

The will made fubject to a lawless force,
All is irregular, and out of courfe;

And judgment drunk, and brib'd to lose his way,

Winks hard, and talks of darkness at noon-day.

A critic on the facred book fhould be

Candid and learn'd, difpaffionate and free;
Free from the wayward bias bigots feel,
From fancy's influence, and intemp’rate zeal:
But, above all, (or let the wretch refrain,
Nor touch the page he cannot but profane)
Free from the domineering pow'r of luit;
A lewd interpreter is never juft.

How fhall I speak thee, or thy pow'r address, Thou god of our idolatry, the prefs?

By thee, religion, liberty, and laws,

Exert their influence, and advance their cause;
By thee, worse plagues than Pharaoh's land befel,
Diffus'd, make earth the vestibule of hell;

Thou fountain, at which drink the good and wife;
Thou ever-bubbling fpring of endless lies;
Like Eden's dread probationary tree,

Knowledge of good and evil is from thee.

No wild enthufiaft ever yet could rest

Till half mankind were like himself poffefs'd.

Philofophers, who darken and put out

Eternal truth by everlasting doubt;

Church quacks, with paffions under no command, Who fill the world with doctrines contraband,

Discov'rers of they know not what, confin'd Within no bounds-the blind that lead the blind; To ftreams of popular opinion drawn,

Depofit in those shallows all their spawn.

The wriggling fry foon fill the creeks around,
Pois'ning the waters where their fwarms abound.
Scorn'd by the nobler tenants of the flood,
Minnows and gudgeons gorge th' unwholfome food.
The propagated myriads spread so fast,

E'en Leuwenhoeck himself would stand aghast,
Employ'd to calculate th' enormous fum,
And own his crab-computing pow'rs o'ercome.
Is this hyperbole? The world well known,
Your fober thoughts will hardly find it one.
Fresh confidence the fpeculatift takes

From ev'ry hair-brain'd profelyte he makes;