She moves with easy,' though with measur❜d pace,
And fhews no part of study, but the grace,
Yet ev❜n by this man is but half refin'd,
Unless philosophy fubdues the mind:

'Tis but a varnish that is quickly loft,
Whene'er the foul in paffion's fea is toft.

Would you both please and be inftructed too, Watch well the rage of fhining to fubdue; Hear every man upon his fav'rite theme, And ever be more knowing than you feem. The lowest genius will afford fome light, Or give a hint that had escap'd your sight. Doubt, 'till he thinks you on conviction yield, And with fit queftions let each pause be fill'd: And the most knowing will with pleasure grant, You're rather much referv'd, than ignorant.

The

rays of wit gild wherefoe'er they strike, But are not therefore fit for all alike;

They charm the lively, but the

grave offend,

And raise a foe as often as a friend;

Like the refistless beams of blazing light,

That cheer the strong, and pain the weakly fight.
If a bright fancy therefore be your share,
Let judgment watch it with a guardian's care;

"Tis like a torrent apt to overflow,
Unless by conftant government kept low
And ne'er inefficacious paffes by,

But overturns or gladdens all that's nigh.

Or elfe, like trees, when fuffer'd wild to fhoot,
That put forth much, but all unripen'd fruit;
It turns to affectation and grimace,

As like to wit, as dulnefs is to grace.

How hard foe'er it be to bridle wit,
Yet mem❜ry oft no less requires the bit :
How many, hurried by its force away,
For ever in the land of goffips ftray!
Ufurp the province of the nurse to lull,
Without her privilege for being dull!
Tales upon tales they raise ten stories high,
Without regard to use or fymmetry :

So R, 'till his deftin'd space is fill'd,
Heaps bricks on bricks, and fancies 'tis to build.
A story should, to please, at least seem true,
Be à propos, well told, concife, and new:

And whenfoe'er it deviates from these rules,

The wife will fleep, and leave applause to fools.
But others, more intolerable yet,

The waggeries, that they've said, or heard, repeat;

Heavy by mem'ry made, and what's the worst,
At fecond-hand, as often as that first.

And can even patience hear, without disdain,
The maiming register of fenfe once flain?
While the dull features, big with archness, strive
In vain, the forc'd half-smile to keep alive.

Some know no joy like what a word can raise,
Haul'd through a language's perplexing maze;
'Till on a mate, that feems t' agree, they light,
Like man and wife, that still are oppofite;
Not lawyers at the bar play more with sense,
When brought to the last trope of eloquence,
Than they on every subject, great or small,
At clubs, or councils, at a church, or ball;
Then cry we rob them of their tributes due:
Alas! how can we laugh and pity too?

While others to extremes as wild will run,
And with four face anatomize a pun:
When the brisk glass to freedom does intice,
And rigid wisdom is a kind of vice.

But let not fuch grave fops your laughter spoil';
Ne'er frown where fenfe may innocently smile.
Cramp not your language into logic rules,
To roftrums leave the pedantry of schools;

VOL. I.

Z

Nor

Nor let your learning always be discern'd,

But chufe to feem judicious more than learn'd.
Quote feldom, and then let it be, at least,

Some fact that's prov'd, or thought that's well exprefs'd.
But left, difguis'd, your eye it fhould escape,
Know, pedantry can put on every shape:

For when we deviate into terms of art,
Unless constrain'd, we act the pedant's part.
Or if we're ever in the self-fame key,
No matter of what kind the subject be,
From laws of nations down to laws of drefs,

For statesmen have their cant, and belles no lefs.
As good hear By dictate on epistles,

Or B-rm-n comment on the Grecian whistles;
As old Obefus preach upon his belly,

Or Phileunucha rant on Farinelli;

Flirtilla read a lecture on a fan,

Or Wd fet forth the praise of Kouli-Kan.
But above all things raillery decline,
Nature but few does for that task design:
'Tis in the ableft hand a dang'rous tool,
But never fails to wound the meddling fool:

For all must grant, it needs no common art
To keep men patient, when we make them smart.

Not

Not wit alone, nor humour's felf, will do,
Without good-nature, and much prudence too,
To judge aright of perfons, place, and time;
For taste decrees what's low, and what's fublime :
And what might charm to-day, or o'er a glass,
Perhaps at court, or next day, would not pass.
Then leave to low buffoons, by custom bred,
And form'd by nature to be kick'd and fed,
The vulgar and unenvied task, to hit
All perfons right or wrong with random wit.
Our wife forefathers, born in fober days,
Refign'd to fools the tart and witty phrase;
The motley coat gave warning for the jest,
Excus'd the wound, and fanctify'd the peft:
But we from high to low all strive to sneer,
Will all be wits, and not the livery wear.

Of all the qualities that help to raise
In men the univerfal voice of praise,
Whether in pleasure or in use they end,
There's none that can with modefty contend.
'Tis a transparent veil that helps the fight,
And lets us look on merit with delight:
In others, 'tis a kindly light, that seems
To gild the worst defects with borrow'd beams.