What education did at first receive,
Our ripen'd age confirms us to believe.
The careful nurse, and priest, are all we need,
To learn opinions, and our country's creed :
The parent's precepts early are instill'd,
And spoil the man, while they inftru&t the child.
To what hard fate is human-kind betray'd,
When thus implicit faith, a virtue made;
When education more than truth prevails,
And nought is current but what cuftom feals?
Thus, from the time we first began to know,
We live and learn, but not the wiser grow.
We seldom ufe our liberty aright,
Nor judge of things by univerfal light :
Our prepoffeffions and affections bind
The foul in chains, and lord it o'er the mind;
And if felf-intereft be but in the cafe,
Our unexamin'd principles may pass!
Good Heavens! that man fhould thus himself deceive,
To learn on credit, and on truft believe!
Better the mind no notions had retain'd,
But ftill a fair, unwritten blank remain'd:
For now, who truth from falfehood would difcern,
Muft firft difrobe the mind, and all unlearn.
Errors, contracted in unmindful youth,
When once remov'd, will smooth the way to truth:
To difpoffefs the child, the mortal lives;
But death approaches ere the man arrives.
Those who would learning's glorious kingdom find, The dear-bought purchase of the trading mind,
From many dangers must themselves acquit,
And more than Scylla and Charybdis meet.
Oh! what an ocean must be voyag'd o'er,
To gain a profpect of the fhining fhore!
Refifting rocks oppofe th' inquiring foul,
And adverfe waves retard it as they roll.
Does not that foolish deference we pay
To men that liv'd long fince, our paffage stay?
What odd, prepofterous paths at first we tread,
And learn to walk by ftumbling on the dead!
First we a bleffing from the grave implore,
Worship old urns, and monuments adore!
The reverend fage, with vast esteem, we prize :
He liv'd long fince, and must be wondrous wife!
Thus are we debtors to the famous dead,
For all thofe errors which their fancies bred:
Errors indeed! for real knowledge stay'd
With thofe first times, not farther was convey'd ::
While light opinions are much lower brought,
For on the waves of ignorance they float:
But folid truth fcarce ever gains the shore,
So foon it finks, and ne'er emerges more.
Suppofe thofe many dreadful dangers paft;
Will knowledge dawn, and bless the mind, at laft?
Ah! no, 't is now environ'd, from our eyes,
Hides all its charms, and undifcover'd lies!
Truth, like a fingle point, efcapes the fight,
And claims attention to perceive it right!
But what resembles truth is foon descry'd,
Spreads like a furface, and expanded wide!
The first man rarely, very rarely finds
The tedious fearch of long enquiring minds :
But yet what's worse, we know not what we err;
What mark does truth, what bright distinction bear?
How do we know that what we know is true?
How fhall we falfehood fly, and truth pursue ?
Let none then here his certain knowledge boast.
'T is all but probability at most:
This is the easy purchase of the mind;
The vulgar's treasure, which we foon may find!!
But truth lies hid, and ere we can explore
The glittering gem, our fleeting life is o'er.
A PINDARICODE, on CHRIST's Second Appearance,
DIEU, ye toyish reeds, that once could please
My fofter lips, and lull my cares to ease :
Be gone;
I'll wafte no more vain hours with you:
And, fmiling Sylvia too, adieu.
A brighter power invokes my Mufe,
And loftier thoughts and raptures does infuse.
See, beckoning, from yon cloud, he stands,
And promises affistance with his hands:
I feel the heavy-rolling God,
Incumbent, revel in his frail abode.
How my breaft heaves, and pulses beat!
I fink, I fink, beneath the furious heat :
The weighty blifs o'erwhelms my breast,
And over-flowing joys profufely waste.
Some nobler bard, O facred Power, infpire,
Or foul more large, th' elapfes to receive:
And, brighter yet, to catch the fire,
And each gay following charm from death to fave!
-In vain the fuit-the God inflames my breaft;
I rave, with extafies oppreft:
I rife, the mountains leffen, and retire;
And now I mix, unfing'd, with elemental fire!
The leading deity I have in view;
Nor mortal knows, as yet, what wonders will enfue.
We pass'd through regions of unfullied light;
I gaz'd, and ficken'd at the blissful fight;
A fhuddering paleness feiz'd my look:
At last the peft flew off, and thus I spoke ; "Say, Sacred Guide, shall this bright clime "Survive the fatal test of time,
Or perish, with our mortal globe below,
"When yon fun no longer fhines ?”
Straight I finish'd-veiling low;
The vifionary power rejoins;
'T is not for you to afk, nor mine to say,
The niceties of that tremendous day.
"Know, when o'er-jaded Time his round has run, "And finish'd are the radiant journeys of the fun,
"The great decifive morn fhall rife,
"And Heaven's bright Judge appear in opening skies! "Eternal grace and juftice he 'll bestow
"On all the trembling world below."
He faid. I mus'd; and thus return'd : "What enfigns, courteous ftranger, tell, "Shall the brooding day reveal?" He anfwer'd mild
"Already, ftupid with their crimes, "Blind mortals proftrate to their idols lie: "Such where the boding times,
“Ere ruin blasted from the fluicy íky; "Diffolv'd they lay in fulfome ease,
"And revel'd in luxuriant peace;
"In bacchanals they did their hours confume, "And bacchanals led on their fwift advancing doom."
Adulterate Chrifts already rife,
And dare t' affuage the angry fkies;
Erratic throngs their Saviour's blood deny,
And from the Crofs, alas! he does neglected figh;
The Anti-Chriftian Power has rais'd his Hydra head,
And ruin, only lefs than Jefus' health, does fpread.
So long the gore through poifon'd veins has flow'd,
That scarcely ranker is a fury's blood;
Yet fpecious artifice, and fair disguise,
The monster's fhape, and curft defign, belies:
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