Which, oft neglected in life's waning years,
A parent pours into regardlefs ears.
Like caterpillars, dangling under trees,
By flender threads, and fwinging in the breeze,
Which filthily bewray, and fore disgrace,
The boughs in which are bred th' unfeemly race,
While ev'ry worm induftriously weaves,
And winds his web about the rivell'd leaves;
So num'rous are the follies that annoy
The mind and heart of ev'ry fprightly boy,
Imaginations noxious and perverfe,
Which admonition can alone difperfe.
Th' encroaching nuisance asks a faithful hand,
Patient, affectionate, of high command,
To check the procreation of a breed,
Sure to exhauft the plant on which they feed.
'Tis not enough, that Greek or Roman page,
At ftated hours, his freakish thoughts engage,
Ev'n in his paftimes he requires a friend
To warn, and teach him fafely to unbend,
O'er all his pleasures gently to prefide,
Watch his emotions, and controul their tide,
And levying thus, and with an easy fway,
A tax of profit from his very play,
T'imprefs a value not to be eras❜d,
On nioments fquander'd elfe, and running all to waste.
And feems it nothing in a father's eye,
That unimprov'd those many moments fly?
And is he well content his fon fhould find
No nourishment, to feed his growing mind,
But conjugated verbs, and nouns declin'd?
For fuch is all the mental food purvey'd
By public hacknies in the fchooling trade,
Who feed a pupil's intellect with ftore
Of fyntax truly, but with little more,
Difmifs their cares when they dismiss their flock,
Machines themselves, and govern'd by a clock.
Perhaps a father, bleft with any brains,
Would deem it no abuse or waste of pains,
T'improve this diet at no great expence,
With fav'ry truth, and wholesome common fenfe,
To lead his fon, for profpects of delight,
To fome not fteep, though philofophic height,
Thence to exhibit to his wondering eyes,
Yon circling worlds, their diftance, and their fize,
The moons of Jove, and Saturn's belted ball,
And the harmonious order of them all;
To fhow him in an infect or a flow'r,
Such microfcopic proofs of fkill and pow'r,
As hid from ages paft, God now displays,
To combat Athiefts with in modern days;
To spread the earth before him, and commend,
With defignation of the finger's end,
Its various parts to his attentive note,
Thus bringing home to him the most remote ;
To teach his heart to glow with gen'rous flame,
Caught from the deeds of men of ancient fame,
And more than all, with commendation due,
To fet fome living worthy in his view,
Whofe fair example may at once infpire
A wifh to copy what he must admire.
Such knowledge gain'd betimes, and which appears,
Though folid, not too weighty for his years,
Sweet in itlelf, and not forbidding fport,
When health demands it, of athletic fort,
Would make him what fome lovely boys have been,
And more than one, perhaps, that I have seen,
An evidence, and reprehenfion both,
Of the mere school-boy's lean and tardy growth.
Art thou a man profeffionally ty'd,
With all thy faculties elsewhere apply'd,
Too busy to intend a meaner care,
Than how t' enrich thyfelf, and next, thine heir;
Or art thou (as though rich, perhaps thou art)
But poor in knowledge, having none to impart-
Behold that figure, neat, though plainly clad,
His fprightly mingled with a fhade of fad,
Not of a nimble tongue, though now and then,
Heard to articulate like other men,
No jefter, and yet lively in discourse,
His phrase well chofen, clear, and full of force,
And his addrefs, if not quite French in cafe,
Not English ftiff, but frank, and form'd to please,
Low in the world, because he fcorns its arts,
A man of letters, manners, morals, parts,
Unpatroniz'd, and therefore little known,
Wife for himself, and his few friends alone,
In him thy well-appointed proxy see,
Arm'd for a work too difficult for thee,
Prepar'd by tafte, by learning, and true worth,
To form thy fon, to ftrike his genius forth,
Beneath thy roof, beneath thine eye to prove
The force of difcipline, when back'd by love,
To double all thy pleasure in thy child,
His mind inform'd, his morals undefil'd.
Safe under fuch a wing, the boy shall show
No spots contracted among grooms below.
Nor taint his fpeech with meanneffes defign'd
By footman Tom, for witty and refin❜d.
There-in his commerce, with the liv'ried herd,
Lurks the contagion chiefly to be fear'd.
For fince (fo fashion dictates) all who claim
An higher than a mere plebeian fame,
Find it expedient, come what mischief may,
To entertain a thief or two in pay,
And they that can afford th' expence of more,
Some half a dozen, and some half a score,
Great caufe occurs to fave him from a band,
So fure to spoil him, and fo near at band,
A point fecur'd, if once he be supply'd,
With fome fuch Mentor always at his fide.
Are fuch men rare? perhaps, they would abound,
Were occupation easier to be found,
Were education, else so sure to fail,
Conducted on a manageable scale,
And schools, that have outliv'd all juft efteem,
Exchang'd for the fecure domeftic fcheme.
But having found him, be thou duke or earl,
Show thou haft fenfe enough to prize the pearl,
And as thou would'st th' advancement of thine heir, In all good faculties beneath his care,
Refpect, as is but rational and juft,
A man deem'd worthy of fo dear a trust.
Defpis'd by thee, what more can he expect
From youthful folly, than the fame neglect ?>
A flat and fatal negative obtains
That inftant, upon all his future pains;
His leffons tire, his mild rebukes offend,
And all th' inftructions of thy fon's best friend,
Are a ftream choak'd, or trickling to no end.
Doom him not then to folitary meals,
But recollect that he has fenfe, and feels,
And, that poffeffor of a foul refin'd,
An upright heart, and cultivated mind,
His poft not mean, his talents not unknown,
He deems it hard to vegetate alone.
And if admitted, at thy board he fit,
Account him no juft mark for idle wit,
Offend not him, whom modefty reftrains
From repartee, with jokes that he disdains,
Much less transfix his feelings with an oath, ›
Nor frown, unless he vanish with the cloth-
And trust me, his utility may reach,
To more than he is hir'd or bound to teach,
Much trash unutter'd, and fome ills undone,
Through rev'rence of the cenfor of thy fon.
But if thy table be indeed unclean, Foul with excefs, and with difcourfe obfcene, And thou a wretch, whom, following her old plan, The world accounts an honourable man,
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