Till they can laugh at virtue; mock the fools
That trust them; and, in th' end, disclofe a face
That would have shock'd credulity herself,
Unmask'd, vouchfafing this their fole excuse-
Since all alike are felfifh, why not they?
This does profufion, and the accurfed caufe
Of fuch deep mifchief has itself a caufe.
In colleges and halls, in ancient days, When learning, virtue, piety, and truth, Were precious, and inculcated with care, There dwelt a fage call'd Discipline. His head, Not yet by time completely filver'd o'er, Bespoke him paft the bounds of freakish youth, But ftrong for service still, and unimpair'd. His eye was meek and gentle, and a smile Play'd on his lips; and in his fpeech was heard Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love.
The occupation dearest to his heart
Was to encourage goodness. He would ftroke
The head of modest and ingenuous worth,
That blufh'd at its own praise; and prefs the youth
Close to his fide that pleas'd him. Learning grew,
Beneath his care, a thriving vig'rous plant;
The mind was well inform'd, the paffions held
Subordinate, and diligence was choice.
If e'er it chanc'd, as fometimes chance it muft,
That one among fo many overleap'd
The limits of controul, his gentle eye
Grew ftern, and darted a fevere rebuke:
His frown was full of terror, and his voice
Shook the delinquent with fuch fits of awe
As left him not, till penitence had won
Loft favour back again, and clos'd the breach.
But Difcipline, a faithful fervant long,
Declin'd at length into the vale of years:
A palfy ftruck his arm; his sparkling eye
Was quench'd in rheums of age; his voice, unftrung,
Grew tremulous, and mov'd derifion more
Than rev'rence in perverse rebellious youth.
So colleges and halls neglected much
Their good old friend; and Difcipline at length,
O'erlook'd and unemploy'd, fell fick and died.
Then study languish'd, emulation flept,
And virtue fled. The fchools became a scene
Of folemn farce, where Ignorance in stilts,
His cap well lin'd with logic not his own,
With parrot tongue perform'd the scholar's part,
Proceeding foon a graduated dunce.
Then compromife had place, and fcrutiny
Became ftone blind; precedence went in truck,
And he was competent whose purse was so.
A diffolution of all bonds enfued;
The curbs invented for the mulish mouth
Of head-ftrong youth, were broken; bars and bolts
Grew rufty by difufe; and maffy gates
Forgot their office, op'ning with a touch;
Till gowns at length are found mere masquerade,
The taffell'd cap and the fpruce band a jeft,
A mock'ry of the world! What need of these
For gamefters, jockeys, brothellers impure,
Spendthrifts, and booted sportsmen, oft'ner seen
With belted waift and pointers at their heels
Than in the bounds of duty? What was learn'd,
If aught was learn'd in childhood, is forgot;
And fuch expence as pinches parents blue,
And mortifies the lib'ral hand of love,
Is fquander'd in pursuit of idle sports
And vicious pleasures; buys the boy a name,
That fits a ftigma on his father's house,
And cleaves through life infeparably close
To him that wears it. What can after-games
Of riper joys, and commerce with the world,
The lewd vain world, that must receive him foon,
Add to fuch erudition, thus acquir'd,
Where science and where virtue are profess'd?
They may confirm his habits, rivet fast
His folly, but to spoil him is a task
That bids defiance to th' united pow'rs
Of fashion, diffipation, taverns, stews.
Now, blame we most the nurflings or the nurse?
The children, crook'd, and twisted, and deform'd,
Through want of care; or her, whofe winking eye
And slumb'ring ofcitancy mars the brood?
The nurse no doubt. Regardless of her charge,
She needs herself correction; needs to learn,
That it is dang'rous fporting with the world,
With things fo facred as a nation's trust,
The nurture of her youth, her dearest pledge.
All are not fuch, I had a brother once→→→ Peace to the mem'ry of a man of worth, A man of letters, and of manners too! Of manners sweet as virtue always wears, When gay good-nature dreffes her in fmiles. He grac'd a college *, in which order yet Was facred; and was honour'd, lov'd, and wept, By more than one, themselves confpicuous there. Some minds are temper'd happily, and mixt With fuch ingredients of good sense and taste Of what is excellent in man, they thirst With fuch a zeal to be what they approve,
That no reftraints can circumfcribe them more
Than they themselves by choice, for wisdom's fake; Nor can example hurt them: what they fee
Of vice in others but enhancing more
The charms of virtue in their just esteem.
If fuch escape contagion, and emerge
Pure, from fo foul a pool, to shine abroad,
And give the world their talents and themselves,
Small thanks to those whofe negligence or floth
Expos'd their inexperience to the fnare,
And left them to an undirected choice.
See, then, the quiver broken and decay'd,
In which are kept our arrows! Rufting there
In wild disorder, and unfit for ufe,
What wonder if, discharg'd into the world,
They shame their shooters with a random flight,
Their points obtufe, and feathers drunk with wine!
Well may the church wage unsuccessful war,
With fuch artill'ry arm'd. Vice parries wide
Th' undreaded volley with a fword of straw,
And ftands an impudent and fearless mark.
Have we not track'd the felon home, and found His birth-place and his dam? The country mourns— Mourns, because ev'ry plague that can infest
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