Who, wife yourselves, defire your fons should learn
Your wisdom and your ways-to you I turn.
Look round you on a world perverfely blind,
See what contempt is fall'n on human kind-
See wealth abus'd, and dignities mifplac'd,
Great titles, offices, and trufts difgrac'd,
Long lines of ancestry, renown'd of old,
Their noble qualities all quench'd and cold;
See Bedlam's clofetted and hand-cuff'd charge
Surpafs'd in frenzy by the mad at large;
See great commanders making war a trade,
Great lawyers, lawyers without study made;
Churchmen, in whofe efteem their bleft employ
Is odious, and their wages all their joy,
Who, far enough from furnishing their shelves
With gospel lore, turn infidels themfeles;
See womanhood defpis'd, and manhood fham'd
With infamy too naufeous to be nam'd,
Fops at all corners, lady-like in mien,
Civeted fellows, fimelt ere they are feen,
Elfe coarfe and rude in manners, and their tongue
On fire with curfes and with nonfenfe hung,
Now flufh'd with drunk'nefs, now with whoredom
Their breath a sample of last night's regale ;
See volunteers in all the vilest arts,
Men well endow'd, of honourable parts,
Design'd by nature wise, but self-made fools;
All these, and more like thefe, were bred at fchools.
And if it chance, as fometimes chance it will,
That though school-bred, the boy be virtuous ftill,
Such rare exceptions fhining in the dark,
Prove, rather than impeach, the just remark;
As here and there a twinkling star defcried
Serves but to fhow how black is all befide.
Now look on him whofe very voice in tone
Juft echoes thine, whofe features are thine own,
And stroke his polish'd cheek of purest red,
And lay thine hand upon his flaxen head,
And say, My boy, th' unwelcome hour is come,
When thou, tranfplanted from thy genial home,
Must find a colder foil and bleaker air,
And truft for fafety to a stranger's care ;
What character, what turn thou wilt affume
From conftant converfe with I know not whom
Who there will court thy friendship, with what
And, artless as thou art, whom thou wilt chufe; Though much depends on what thy choice fhall be Is all chance-medley, and unknown to me.
Can't thou, the tear juft trembling on thy lids,
And while the dreadful rifque forefeen, forbids,
Free too, and under no conftraining force,
Unless the fway of custom warp thy course,
Lay fuch a stake upon the lofing fide,
Merely to gratify fo blind a guide?
Thou can'ft not! Nature, pulling at thine heart,
Condemns th' unfatherly, th' imprudent part.
Thou would'st not, deaf to Nature's tend'reft plea,
Turn him adrift upon a rolling fea,
Nor fay, go thither, conscious that there lay
A brood of afps, or quickfands in his way;
Then, only govern'd by the self-fame rule
Of nat❜ral pity, send him not to school.
No-guard him better: Is he not thine own,
Thyself in miniature, thy flesh, thy bone?
And hop'st thou not ('tis ev'ry father's hope)
That fince thy ftrength must with thy years elope,
And thou wilt need fome comfort, to affuage
Health's laft farewell, a staff of thine old age,
That then, in recompense of all thy cares,
Thy child shall show refpe&t to thy grey hairs,
Befriend thee, of all other friends bereft,
And give thy life its only cordial left?
Aware then how much danger intervenes,
To compafs that good end, forecast the means.
His heart, now paffive, yields to thy command;
Secure it thine, its key is in thine hand.
If thou defert thy charge, and throw it wide,
Nor heed what guests there enter and abide,
Complain not if attachments lewd and bafe
Supplant thee in it, and ufurp thy place.
But if thou guard its facred chambers fure
From vicious inmates and delights impure,
Either his gratitude fhall hold him faft,
And keep him warm and filial to the last;
Or if he prove unkind, as who can fay
But, being man, and therefore frail, he may,
One comfort yet shall cheer thine aged heart,
Howe'er he flight thee, thou haft done thy part.
Oh barb'rous! would't thou with a Gothic hand Pull down the schools-what-all the fchools i' th' land?
Or throw them up to liv'ry-nags and grooms,
Or turn them into shops and auction-rooms ?
A captious question, fir, (and your's is one)
Deferves an answer fimilar, or none.
Would't thou, poffeffor of a flock, employ
(Appriz'd that he is fuch) a careless boy,
And feed him well, and give him handsome pay,
Merely to fleep, and let them run astray ?
Survey our schools and colleges, and fee
A fight not much unlike my fimile.
From education, as the leading caufe,
The public character its colour draws,
Thence the prevailing manners take their east,
Extravagant or fober, loose or chaste.
And though I would not advertise them yet,
Nor write on each-This Building to be Let,
Unless the world were all prepar'd t' embrace
A plan well worthy to fupply their place,
Yet backward as they are, and long have been,
To cultivate and keep the MORALS clean,
(Forgive the crime) I wish them, I confess,
Or better manag'd, or encourag'd lefs.
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