Priests have invented, and the world admir'd
What knavish priests promulgate as infpir'd,
'Till reason, now no longer overaw'd,
Refumes her pow'rs, and spurns the clumfy fraud,
And, common-fenfe diffufing real day,
The meteor of the gofpel dies away.
Such rhapsodies our fhrewd difcerning youth
Learn from expert enquirers after truth;
Whose only care, might truth prefume to speak,
Is not to find what they profefs to feek.
And thus, well-tutor'd only while we share
A mother's lectures and a nurse's care;
And taught at fchools much mythologic stuff*,
But found religion fparingly enough;
*The author begs leave to explain; fuch knowledge, neither the ancient poets nor hiftorians can be tafted, or indeed understood, he does not mean to cenfure the pains that are taken to inftruct a fchool-boy in the religion of the heathen, but merely that neglect of Chriftian culture which leaves him fhamefully ignorant of his own.
Our early notices of truth, difgrac'd,
Soon lose their credit, and are all effac'd.
Would you your fon fhould be a fot or dunce,
Lafcivious, headftrong, or all thefe at once;
That, in good time, the stripling's finish'd tafte
For loofe expence, and fashionable wafte,
Should prove your ruin, and his own at last;
Train him in public with a mob of boys,
Childish in mischief only and in noise,
Elfe of a mannish growth, and five in ten
In infidelity and lewdness, men.
There fhall he learn, ere fixteen winters old,
That authors are most useful, pawn'd or fold;
That pedantry is all that schools impart,
But taverns teach the knowledge of the heart;
There waiter Dick, with Bacchanalian lays,
Shall win his heart and have his drunken praise,
His counfellor and bofom-friend fhall prove,
And some street-pacing harlot his first love.
Schools, unless difcipline were doubly ftrong,
Detain their adolefcent charge too long;
The management of Tiroes of eighteen
Is difficult, their punishment obscene.
The ftout tall Captain, whofe fuperior fize
The minor heroes view with envious eyes,
Becomes their pattern, upon whom they fix
Their whole attention, and ape all his tricks,
His pride, that scorns t' obey or to submit,
With them is courage, his effrontery wit.
His wild excursions, window-breaking feats,
Robb'ry of gardens, quarrels in the streets,
His hair-breadth 'fcapes, and all his daring schemes,
Tranfport them, and are made their fav'rite themes,
In little bofoms fuch atchievements strike
A kindred fpark, they burn to do the like,
Thus, half-accomplish'd ere he yet begin
To fhow the peeping down upon his chin,
And, as maturity of years comes on,
Made just th' adept that you defign'd your fon,
T' infure the perfeverance of his course,
And give your monstrous project all its force,
Send him to college. If he there be tam'd,
Or in one article of vice reclaim'd,
Where no regard of ord'nances is shown
Or look'd for now, the fault must be his own.
Some sneaking virtue lurks in him, no doubt,
Where neither ftrumpets charms, nor drinking-bout,
Nor gambling practices, can find it out.
Such youths of fpirit, and that spirit too,
Ye nurs❜ries of our boys, we owe to you:
Though from ourselves the mischief more proceeds,
For public schools 'tis public folly feeds
The flaves of custom and establish'd mode,
With pack-horse conftancy we keep the road, Crooked or straight, through quags or thorny dells, True to the jingling of our leaders bells.
To follow foolish precedents, and wink
With both our eyes, is easier than to think;
And fuch an age as ours baulks no expence,
Except of caution and of common-sense,
Elfe fure, notorious fact and proof fo plain
Would turn our steps into a wifer train.
I blame not those who with what care they can
O'erwatch the num'rous and unruly clan,
Or if I blame, 'tis only that they dare
Promise a work of which they must despair.
Have ye, ye fage intendants of the whole,
An ubiquarian presence and controul,
Elifha's eye, that when Gehazi stray'd
Went with him, and faw all the game he play'd?
Yes-ye are confcious; and on all the shelves
Your pupils ftrike upon, have ftruck yourselves.
Or if by nature fober, ye had then,
Boys as ye were, the gravity of men,
Ye knew at least, by conftant proofs addrefs'd
To ears and eyes, the vices of the rest.
But ye connive at what ye cannot cure,
And evils not to be endur'd, endure,
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