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Returning from his finish'd tour,
Grown ten times perter than before,
Whatever word you chance to drop,
The travell'd fool your mouth will stop;
"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow-
"I've seen-and fure I ought to know"-
So begs you'd pay a due fubmiffion,
And acquiefce in his decision.

Two travellers of fuch a caft, As o'er Arabia's wilds they past, And on their way in friendly chat Now talk'd of this, and then of that, Difcours'd awhile 'mongst other matter, Of the Camelion's form and nature. A stranger animal, cries one, "Sure never liv'd beneath the fun: "A lizard's body lean and long, "A fish's head, a ferpent's tongue, "Its tooth with triple claw disjoin'd; "And what a length of tail behind!

How flow its pace! and then its hue "Who ever faw fo fine a blue ?"

"Hold there, the other quick replies, 'Tis green- I saw it with these eyes, "As late with open mouth it lay, "And warm'd it in the funny ray; "Stretch'd at its ease the beast I view'd, "And faw it eat the air for food."

I've feen it, Sir, as well as you, "And must again affirm it blue; "At leifure I the beast survey'd "Extended in the cooling fhade."

"Tis green, 'tis green, Sir, I affure ye"Green! cries the other in a fury"Why, Sir-d'ye think I've loft my eyes " ""Twere no great lofs, the friend replies. "For if they always ferve you thus, "You'll find 'em but of little ufe." So high at last the contest rofe, From words they almoft came to blows: When luckily came by a third; To him the question they referr'd; And begg'd he'd tell 'em, if he knew, Whether the thing was green or blue. "Sirs, cries the umpire, ceafe your pother "The creature's neither one nor t'other. "I caught the animal last night, "And view'd it o'er by candle light: "I mark'd it well-'twas black as jet"You ftare-but Sirs, I've got it yet, "And can produce it."—" Pray, Sir, do: "I'll lay my life the thing is blue.”. "And I'll be fworn that when you've seen "The reptile, you'll pronounce him green." "Well then, at once to ease the doubt, "Replies the man, I'll turn him out : "And when before your eyes I've fet him, "If you don't find him black, I'll eat him." He faid; then full before their fight Produc'd the beast, and lo! -'twas white. Both ftar'd, the man look'd wond'rous wife"My children," the Camelion cries, (Then firft the creature found a tongue) "You all are right, and all are wrong:

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"When next you talk of what you view, "Think others fee, as well as you:

Nor wonder, if you find that none

"Prefers your eye-fight to his own."

MERRICK.

CHA P. XIII.

THE YOUTH AND THE PHILOSOPHER.

A

GRECIAN Youth, of talents rare,
Whom Plato's philofophic care

Had form'd for Virtue's nobler view,

By precepts and example too,

Would often boaft his matchless skill,

To curb the fteed, and guide the wheel.
And as he pafs'd the gazing throng,
With graceful eafe, and fmack'd the thong,
The idiot wonder they exprefs'd

Was praife and tranfport to his breast.

At length quite vain, he needs would fhew

His mafter what his art could do;

And bade his flaves the chariot lead
To Academus' facred fhade.

The trembling grove confefs'd its fright,
The wood-nymphs ftarted at the fight;
The Mufes drop the learned lyre,
And to their inmoft fhades retire.
Howe'er, the 1th with forward air,

Bows to the fage,

and mounts the car ; The lafh refounds, the courfers fpring, The chariot marks the rolling ring;

And

And gath'ring crowds with eager eyes,
And fhouts, pursue him as he flies.
Triumphant to the goal return'd,
With nobler thirst his bofom burn'd;
And now along th' indented plain,
'The self-fame track he marks again,
Purfues with care the nice defign,
Nor ever deviates from the line.

Amazement feiz'd the circling crowd;
The youths with emulation glow'd;
Ev'n bearded fages hail'd the boy,
And all, but Plato, gaz'd with joy.
For he, deep-judging fage, beheld
With pain the triumphs of the field :
And when the charioteer drew nigh,
And, flush'd with hope, had caught his eye,
Alas! unhappy youth, he cry'd,

Expect no praife from me, (and figh'd)

With indignation I furvey

Such skill and judgment thrown away.
The time profufely fquander'd there,
On vulgar arts beneath thy care,
If well employ'd, at lefs expence,
Had taught thee honour, virtue, fenfe,
And rais'd thee from a coachman's fate,
To govern men and guide the state.

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HERE London's column, pointing at the skies
Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies;

There dwelt a Citizen of fober fame,

A plain good man, and Balaam was his name;
Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth;
His word would país for more than he was worth.
One folid difh his week-day meal affords,

An added pudding folemniz'd the Lord's:
Conftant at Church, and 'Change; his gains were fure,
His givings rare, fave farthings to the poor.

The Devil was piqu'd fuch faintship to behold,
And long'd to tempt him, like good Job of old:
But Satan now is wifer than of yore,

And tempts by making rich, not making poor.
Rouz'd by the Prince of Air, the whirlwinds fweep
The furge, and plunge his Father in the deep;
Then full against his Cornish lands they roar,
And two rich shipwrecks blefs the lucky fhore.

SIR Balaam now, he lives like other folks,

He takes his chirping pint, and cracks his jokes:
"Live like yourself," was foon my Lady's word;
And lo! two puddings fmoak'd upon the board.
Afleep and naked as an Indian lay,

An honeft factor ftole a Gem away :

He pledg'd it to the knight; the knight had wit,
So kept the Di'mond, and the rogue was bit.
Some fcruple rofe, but thus he eas'd his thought,
"I'll now give fix-pence where I gave a groat;

"Where

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