TIROCINIUM.

TIROCINIUM : OR , A REVIEW OF SCHOOLS .

foreign PLATO . foreign DIOG. LAERT.

TO THE REV. WILLIAM CAWTHORNE UNWIN , RECTOR OF STOCK IN ESSEX , THE TUTOUR OF HIS TWO SONS , THE FOLLOWING POEM , RECOMMENDING PRIVATE TUITION IN PREFERENCE TO AN EDUCATION AT SCHOOL , IS INSCRIBED , BY HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND ,

WILLIAM COWPER . Olney , Nov. 6 , 1784.

TIROCINIUM . IT is not from his form in which we trace Strength joined with beauty , dignity with grace , That man , the master of this globe , derives His right of empire over all that lives . That form indeed , th' associate of a mind Vast in its pow'rs , ethereal in its kind , That form , the labour of almighty skill , Framed for the service of a free-born will , Asserts precedence , and bespeaks controul , But borrows all its grandeur from the soul . Hers is the state , the splendour and the throne , An intellectual kingdom , all her own . For her , the mem'ry fills her ample page With truths pour'd down from ev'ry distant age , For her amasses an unbounded store , The wisdom of great nations , now no more , Though laden , not incumber'd with her spoil , Laborious , yet unconscious of her toil , When copiously supplied , then most enlarged , Still to be fed , and not to be surcharged . For her , the fancy roving unconfined , The present muse of ev'ry pensive mind , Works magic wonders , adds a brighter hue To nature's scenes , than nature ever knew , At her command , winds rise and waters roar , Again she lays them slumb'ring on the shore , With flow'r and fruit the wilderness supplies , Or bids the rocks in ruder pomp arise . For her , the judgment , umpire in the strife , That grace and nature have to wage through life , Quick-sighted arbiter of good and ill , Appointed sage preceptor to the will , Condemns , approves , and with a faithful voice Guides the decision of a doubtful choice . Why did the fiat of a God give birth To yon fair sun and his attendant earth , And when descending he resigns the skies , Why takes the gent'ler moon her turn to rise , Whom ocean feels through all his countless waves , And owns her pow'r on ev'ry shore he laves ? Why do the seasons still enrich the year , Fruitful and young as in their first career ? Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees , Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze , Summer in haste the thriving charge receives Beneath the shade of her expanded leaves , 'Till autumn's fiercer heats and plenteous dews Dye them at last in all their glowing hues — 'Twere wild profusion all , and bootless waste , Pow'r misemployed , munificence misplaced , Had not its author dignified the plan , And crowned it with the majesty of man . Thus form'd , thus placed , intelligent , and taught Look where he will , the wonders God has wrought The wildest scorner of his Maker's laws Finds in a sober moment time to pause , To press th' important question on his heart , " Why form'd at all , and wherefore as thou art ? " If man be what he seems , this hour a slave , The next mere dust and ashes in the grave , Endued with reason only to descry His crimes and follies with an aching eye , With passions , just that he may prove with pain The force he spends against their fury , vain , And if soon after having burnt by turns With ev'ry lust with which frail nature burns , His being end where death dissolves the bond , The tomb take all , and all be blank beyond , Then he , of all that nature has brought forth Stands self-impeach'd the creature of least worth , And useless while he lives , and when he dies , Brings into doubt the wisdom of the skies . Truths that the learn'd pursue with eager thought , Are not important always as dear-bought , Proving at last , though told in pompous strains , A childish waste of philosophic pains ; But truths on which depends our main concern , That 'tis our shame and mis'ry not to learn , Shine by the side of ev'ry path we tread With such a lustre , he that runs may read . 'Tis true , that if to trifle life away Down to the sun-set of their latest day , Then perish on futurity's wide shore Like fleeting exhalations , found no more , Were all that heav'n required of human kind , And all the plan their destiny designed , What none could rev'rence all might justly blame , And man would breathe but for his Maker's shame . But reason heard , and nature well perused , At once the dreaming mind is disabused . If all we find possessing earth , sea , air , Reflect his attributes who plac'd them there , Fulfill the purpose , and appear design'd Proofs of the wisdom of th' all-seeing mind , 'Tis plain , the creature whom he chose t' invest With kingship and dominion o'er the rest , Received his nobler nature , and was made Fit for the power in which he stands array'd , That first or last , hereafter if not here , He too might make his author's wisdom clear , Praise him on earth , or obstinately dumb Suffer his justice in a world to come . This once believed , 'twere logic misapplied To prove a consequence by none denied , That we are bound to cast the minds of youth Betimes into the mould of heav'nly truth , That taught of God they may indeed be wise , Nor ignorantly wand'ring miss the skies . In early days the conscience has in most A quickness , which in later life is lost , Preserved from guilt by salutary fears , Or , guilty , soon relenting into tears . Too careless often as our years proceed , What friends we sort with , or what books we read , Our parents yet exert a prudent care To feed our infant minds with proper fare , And wisely store the nurs'ry by degrees With wholesome learning , yet acquired with ease . Neatly secured from being soiled or torn Beneath a pane of thin translucent horn , A book ( to please us at a tender age 'Tis call'd a book , though but a single page ) Presents the pray'r the Saviour deign'd to teach , Which children use , and parsons — when they preach . Lisping our syllables , we scramble next , Through moral narrative , or sacred text , And learn with wonder how this world began , Who made , who marr'd , and who has ransom'd man . Points , which unless the Scripture made them plain , The wisest heads might agitate in vain . Oh thou , whom borne on fancy's eager wing Back to the season of life's happy spring , I pleased remember , and while mem'ry yet Holds fast her office here , can ne'er forget , Ingenious dreamer , in whose well told-tale Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevail , Whose hum'rous vein , strong sense , and simple stile , May teach the gayest , make the gravest smile , Witty , and well-employ'd , and like thy Lord , Speaking in parables his slighted word , I name thee not , lest so despised a name Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame , Yet ev'n in transitory life's late day That mingles all my brown with sober gray , Revere the man , whose Pilgrim marks the road And guides the Progress of the soul to God . 'Twere well with most , if books that could engage Their childhood , pleased them at a riper age ; The man approving what had charm'd the boy , Would die at last in comfort , peace , and joy , And not with curses on his art who stole The gem of truth from his unguarded soul . The stamp of artless piety impress'd By kind tuition on his yielding breast , The youth now bearded , and yet pert and raw , Regards with scorn , though once received with awe , And warp'd into the labyrinth of lies That babblers , called philosophers , devise , Blasphemes his creed as founded on a plan Replete with dreams , unworthy of a man . Touch but his nature in its ailing part , Assert the native evil of his heart , His pride resents the charge , although the proof See Chron. Ch. 26. v. 19. Rise in his forehead , and seem rank enough ; Point to the cure , describe a Saviour's cross As God's expedient to retrieve his loss , The young apostate sickens at the view , And hates it with the malice of a Jew . How weak the barrier of mere nature proves Oppos'd against the pleasures nature loves ! While self-betray'd , and wilfully undone , She longs to yield , no sooner wooed than won . Try now the merits of this blest exchange Of modest truth for wits eccentric range . ' Time was , he closed as he began the day With decent duty , not ashamed to pray . The practice was a bond upon his heart , A pledge he gave for a consistent part , Nor could he dare prefumptuously displease A pow'r confess'd so lately on his knees . But now , farewell all legendary tales , The shadows fly , philosophy prevails , Pray'r to the winds and caution to the waves , Religion makes the free by nature slaves , Priests have invented , and the world admired What knavish priests promulgate as inspired , 'Till reason , now no longer overawed , Resumes her pow'rs , and spurns the clumsy fraud , And common-sense diffusing real day , The meteor of the gospel dies away . Such rhapsodies our shrew'd discerning youth Learn from expert enquirers after truth , Whose only care , might truth presume to speak , Is not to find what they prosess to seek . And thus well-tutor'd only while we share A mother's lectures and a nurse's care , And taught at schools much mythologic stuff , The author begs leave to explain , sensible that without such knowledge , neither the ancient poets nor historians can be tasted or indeed understood , he does not mean to censure the pains that are taken to instruct a school-boy in the religion of the heathen , but merely that neglect of christian culture which leaves him shamefully ignorant of his own . But sound religion sparingly enough , Our early notices of truth disgraced Soon lose their credit , and are all effaced . Would you your son should be a sot or dunce , Lascivious , headstrong , or all these at once , That in good time , the stripling's finish'd taste For loose expence and fashionable waste , Should prove your ruin , and his own at last , Train him in public with a mob of boys , Childish in mischief only and in noise , Else of a mannish growth , and five in ten In infidelity and lewdness , men . There shall he learn 'ere sixteen winter's old , That authors are most useful , pawn'd or sold , That pedantry is all that schools impart , But taverns teach the knowledge of the heart , There waiter Dick with Bacchanalian lays Shall win his heart and have his drunken praise , His counsellor and bosom-friend shall prove , And some street-pacing harlot his first love . Schools , unless discipline where doubly strong , Detain their adolescent charge too long . The management of Tiro's of eighteen Is difficult , their punishment obscene . The stout tall Captain , whose superior size The minor heroes view with envious eyes , Becomes their pattern , upon whom they fix Their whole attention , and ape all his tricks . His pride that scorns t' obey or to submit , With them is courage , his effront'ry wit . His wild excursions , window-breaking feats , Robb'ry of gardens , quarrels in the streets , His hair-breadth 'scapes , and all his daring schemes , Transport them , and are made their fav'rite themes . In little bosoms such atchievements strike A kindred spark , they burn to do the like . Thus half accomplish'd , 'ere he yet begin To show the peeping down upon his chin , And as maturity of years comes on Made just th' adept that you design'd your son , T' insure the perseverance of his course , And give your monstrous project all its force , Send him to college . If he there be tamed , Or in one article of vice reclaimed , Where no regard of ord'nances is shown Or look'd for now , the fault must be his own . Some sneaking virtue lurks in him no doubt , Where neither strumpets charms nor drinking-bout , Nor gambling practices can find it out . Such youths of spirit , and that spirit too Ye nurs'ries of our boys , we owe to you . Though from ourselves the mischief more proceeds , For public schools 'tis public folly feeds . The slaves of custom and establish'd mode , With pack-horse constancy we keep the road Crooked or strait , through quags or thorny dells , True to the jingling of our leaders bells . To follow foolish precedents , and wink With both our eyes , is easier than to think , And such an age as ours baulks no expence Except of caution and of common-sense , Else sure , notorious fact and proof so plain Would turn our steps into a wiser train . I blame not those who with what care they can O'erwatch the num'rous and unruly clan , Or if I blame , 'tis only that they dare Promise a work of which they must despair . Have ye , ye sage intendants of the whole , An ubiquarian presence and controul , Elisha's eye , that when Gehazi stray'd Went with him , and saw all the game he play'd ? Yes — ye are conscious ; and on all the shelves Your pupils strike upon , have struck yourselves . Or if by nature sober , ye had then Boys as ye were , the gravity of men , Ye knew at least , by constant proofs address'd To ears and eyes , the vices of the rest . But ye connive at what ye cannot cure , And evils not to be endured , endure , Lest pow'r exerted , but without success , Should make the little ye retain still less . Ye once were justly famed for bringing forth Undoubted scholarship and genuine worth , And in the firmament of fame still shines A glory bright as that of all the signs Of poets raised by you , and statesmen and divines . Peace to them all , those brilliant times are fled , And no such lights are kindling in their stead . Our striplings shine indeed , but with such rays As set the midnight riot in a blaze , And seem , if judged by their expressive looks , Deeper in none than in their surgeons books . Say muse ( for education made the song , No muse can hesitate or linger long ) What causes move us , knowing as we must That these Menageries all fail their trust , To send our sons to scout and scamper there , While colts and puppies cost us so much care ? Be it a weakness , it deserves some praise , We love the play-place of our early days . The scene is touching , and the heart is stone That feels not at that sight , and feels at none . The wall on which we tried our graving skill , The very name we carved subsisting still , The bench on which we sat while deep-employ'd Though mangled , hack'd and hew'd , not yet destroy'd , The little ones unbutton'd , glowing hot , Playing our games , and on the very spot , As happy as we once , to kneel and draw The chalky ring , and knuckle down at taw , To pitch the ball into the grounded hat , Or drive it devious with a dex'trous pat , The pleasing spectacle at once excites Such recollection of our own delights , That viewing it , we seem almost t' obtain Our innocent sweet simple years again . This fond attachment to the well-known place Whence first we started into life's long race , Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway , We feel it ev'n in age , and at our latest day . Hark ! how the sire of chits whose future share Of classic food begins to be his care , With his own likeness placed on either knee , Indulges all a father's heart-felt glee , And tells them as he strokes their silver locks , That they must soon learn Latin and to box ; Then turning , he regales his list'ning wife With all th' adventures of his early life , His skill in coachmanship or driving chaise , In bilking tavern bills and spouting plays , What shifts he used detected in a scrape , How he was flogg'd , or had the luck t' escape , What sums he lost at play , and how he sold Watch , seals , and all , 'till all his pranks are told . Retracing thus his frolics ( 'tis a name That palliates deeds of folly and of shame ) He gives the local biass all its sway , Resolves that where he play'd his sons shall play , And destines their bright genius to be shown Just in the scene where he display'd his own . The meek and bashful boy will soon be taught To be as bold and forward as he ought , The rude will scuffle through with ease enough , Great schools suit best the sturdy and the rough . Ah happy designation , prudent choice , Th' event is sure , expect it and rejoice ! Soon see your wish fulfilled in either child , The pert made perter , and the tame made wild . The great indeed , by titles , riches , birth , Excused th' incumbrance of more solid worth , Are best disposed of , where with most success They may acquire that confident address , Those habits of profuse and lew'd expence , That scorn of all delights but those of sense , Which though in plain plebeians we condemn , With so much reason all expect from them . But families of less illustrious fame , Whose chief distinction is their spotless name , Whose heirs , their honours none , their income small , Must shine by true desert , or not at all , What dream they of , that with so little care They risk their hopes , their dearest treasure there ? They dream of little Charles or William graced With wig prolix , down-flowing to his waist , They see th' attentive crowds his talents draw , They hear him speak — the oracle of law . The father who designs his babe a priest , Dreams him episcopally such at least , And while the playful jockey scow'rs the room Briskly , astride upon the parlour broom , In fancy sees him more superbly ride In coach with purple lined , and mitres on its side . Events improbable and strange as these , Which only a parental eye foresees , A public school shall bring to pass with ease . But how ? resides such virtue in that air As must create an appetite for pray'r ? And will it breathe into him all the zeal That candidates for such a prize should feel , To take the lead and be the foremost still In all true worth and literary skill ? " Ah blind to bright futurity , untaught " The knowledge of the world , and dull of thought ! " Church-ladders are not always mounted best " By learned Clerks and Latinists profess'd . " Th' exalted prize demands an upward look , " Not to be found by poring on a book . " Small skill in Latin , and still less in Greek , " Is more than adequate to all I seek , " Let erudition grace him or not grace , " I give the bawble but the second place , " His wealth , fame , honors , all that I intend , " Subsist and center in one point — a friend . " A friend , whate'er he studies or neglects , " Shall give him consequence , heal all defects , " His intercourse with peers , and sons of peers — " There dawns the splendour of his future years , " In that bright quarter his propitious skies " Shall blush betimes , and there his glory rise . " Your Lordship and your Grace , what school can teach " A rhet'ric equal to those parts of speech ? " What need of Homer's verse or Tully's prose , " Sweet interjections ! if he learn but those ? " Let rev'rend churls his ignorance rebuke , " Who starve upon a dogs-ear'd Pentateuch , " The parson knows enough who knows a Duke . " — Egregious purpose ! worthily begun In barb'rous prostitution of your son , Pressed on his part by means that would disgrace A scriv'ners clerk or footman out of place , And ending , if at last its end be gained , In sacrilege , in God's own house profaned . It may succeed ; and if his sins should call For more than common punishment , it shall . The wretch shall rise , and be the thing on earth Least qualified in honor , learning , worth , To occupy a sacred , awful post , In which the best and worthiest tremble most . The royal letters , are a thing of course , A king that would , might recommend his horse , And Deans no doubt and Chapters , with one voice As bound in duty , would confirm the choice . Behold your Bishop ! well he plays his part , Christian in name , and Infidel in heart , Ghostly in office , earthly in his plan , A slave at court , elsewhere a lady's man , Dumb as a senator , and as a priest A piece of mere church-furniture at best ; To live estranged from God his total scope , And his end sure , without one glimpse of hope . But fair although and feasible it seem , Depend not much upon your golden dream ; For Providence that seems concern'd t' exempt The hallow'd bench from absolute contempt , In spite of all the wrigglers into place , Still keeps a seat or two for worth and grace , And therefore 'tis , that , though the sight be rare , We sometimes see a Lowth or Bagot there . Besides , school-friendships are not always found , Though fair in promise , permanent and sound . The most disint'rested and virtuous minds In early years connected , time unbinds . New situations give a diff'rent cast Of habit , inclination , temper , taste , And he that seem'd our counterpart at first , Soon shows the strong similitude revers'd . Young heads are giddy , and young hearts are warm , And make mistakes for manhood to reform . Boys are at best but pretty buds unblown , Whose scent and hues are rather guess'd than known . Each dreams that each is just what he appears , But learns his error in maturer years , When disposition like a sail unfurl'd Shows all its rents and patches to the world . If therefore , ev'n when honest in design , A boyish friendship may so soon decline , 'Twere wiser sure t' inspire a little heart With just abhorrence of so mean a part , Than set your son to work at a vile trade For wages so unlikely to be paid . Our public hives of puerile resort That are of chief and most approved report , To such base hopes in many a sordid soul Owe their repute in part , but not the whole . A principle , whose proud pretensions pass Unquestioned , though the jewel be but glass , That with a world not often over-nice Ranks as a virtue , and is yet a vice , Or rather a gross compound , justly tried , Of envy , hatred , jealousy , and pride , Contributes most perhaps t' inhance their fame , And Emulation is its specious name . Boys once on fire with that contentious zeal Feel all the rage that female rivals feel , The prize of beauty in a woman's eyes Not brighter than in theirs the scholar's prize . The spirit of that competition burns With all varieties of ill by turns , Each vainly magnifies his own success , Resents his fellows , wishes it were less , Exults in his miscarriage if he fail , Deems his reward too great if he prevail , And labors to surpass him day and night , Less for improvement , than to tickle spite . The spur is pow'rful , and I grant its force , It pricks the genius forward in its course , Allows short time for play , and none for sloth , And felt alike by each , advances both , But judge where so much evil intervenes , The end , though plausible , not worth the means . Weigh , for a moment , classical desert Against an heart depraved and temper hurt , Hurt too perhaps for life , for early wrong Done to the nobler part , affects it long , And you are staunch indeed in learning's cause , If you can crown a discipline that draws Such mischiefs after it , with much applause . Connection form'd for int'rest , and endear'd By selfish views , thus censured and cashier'd , And emulation , as engend'ring hate , Doom'd to a no less ignominious fate , The props of such proud seminaries fall , The JACHIN and the BOAZ of them all . Great schools rejected then , as those that swell Beyond a size that can be managed well , Shall royal institutions miss the bays , And small academies win all the praise ? Force not my drift beyond its just intent , I praise a school as Pope a government ; So take my judgment in his language dress'd , " Whate'er is best administer'd , is best . " Few boys are born with talents that excel , But all are capable of living well . Then ask not , whether limited or large , But , watch they strictly , or neglect their charge ? If anxious only that their boys may learn , While Morals languish , a despised concern , The great and small deserve one common blame , Diff'rent in size , but in effect the same . Much zeal in virtue's cause all teachers boast , Though motives of mere lucre sway the most . Therefore in towns and cities they abound , For there , the game they seek is easiest found , Though there , in spite of all that care can do , Traps to catch youth are most abundant too . If shrew'd , and of a well-constructed brain , Keen in pursuit , and vig'rous to retain , Your son come forth a prodigy of skill , As wheresoever taught , so form'd , he will , The paedagogue , with self-complacent air , Claims more than half the praise as his due share ; But if with all his genius he betray , Not more intelligent , than loose and gay , Such vicious habits as disgrace his name , Threaten his health , his fortune , and his fame , Though want of due restraint alone have bred The symptoms that you see with so much dread , Unenvied there , he may sustain alone The whole reproach , the fault was all his own . Oh 'tis a sight to be with joy perused By all whom sentiment has not abused , New-fangled sentiment , the boasted grace Of those who never feel in the right place , A sight surpassed by none that we can show , Though Vestris on one leg still shine below , A father blest with an ingenuous son , Father and friend and tutour all in one . How ? turn again to tales long since forgot , Aesop and Phaedrus and the rest ? — why not ? He will not blush that has a father's heart , To take in childish plays a childish part , But bends his sturdy back to any toy That youth takes pleasure in , to please his boy ; Then why resign into a stranger's hand A task as much within your own command , That God and nature and your int'rest too Seem with one voice to delegate to you ? Why hire a lodging in a house unknown For one whose tend'rest thoughts all hover round your own ? This second weaning , needless as it is , How does it lacerate both your heart and his ! Th' indented stick that loses day by day Notch after notch , 'till all are smooth'd away , Bears witness long 'ere his dismission come , With what intense desire he wants his home . But though the joys he hopes beneath your roof Bid fair enough to answer in the proof Harmless and safe and nat'ral as they are , A disappointment waits him even there : Arrived , he feels an unexpected change , He blushes , hangs his head , is shy and strange , No longer takes , as once , with fearless ease His fav'rite stand between his father's knees , But seeks the corner of some distant seat , And eyes the door , and watches a retreat , And least familiar where he should be most , Feels all his happiest privileges lost . Alas poor boy ! — the natural effect Of love by absence chilled into respect . Say , what accomplishments at school acquired Brings he to sweeten fruits so undesired ? Thou well deserv'st an alienated son , Unless thy conscious heart acknowledge — none . None that in thy domestic snug recess , He had not made his own with more address , Though some perhaps that shock thy feeling mind , And better never learn'd , or left behind . Add too , that thus estranged thou can'st obtain By no kind arts his confidence again , That here begins with most that long complaint Of filial frankness lost , and love grown faint , Which , oft neglected in life's waning years , A parent pours into regardless ears . Like caterpillars dangling under trees By slender threads , and swinging in the breeze , Which filthily bewray and sore disgrace The boughs in which are bred th' unseemly race , While ev'ry worm industriously 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 sprightly boy , Imaginations noxious and perverse , Which admonition can alone disperse . Th' encroaching nuisance asks a faithful hand , Patient , affectionate , of high command , To check the procreation of a breed Sure to exhaust the plant on which they feed . 'Tis not enough that Greek or Roman page At stated hours his freakish thoughts engage , Ev'n in his pastimes he requires a friend To warn , and teach him safely to unbend , O'er all his pleasures gently to preside , Watch his emotions and controul their tide , And levying thus , and with an easy sway , A tax of profit from his very play , T' impress a value not to be eras'd On moments squander'd else , and running all to waste . And seems it nothing in a father's eye That unimproved those many moments fly ? And is he well content , his son should find No nourishment to feed his growing mind But conjugated verbs , and nouns declined ? For such is all the mental food purvey'd By public hacknies in the schooling trade , Who feed a pupils intellect with store Of syntax truely , but with little more , Dismiss their cares when they dismiss their flock , Machines themselves , and govern'd by a clock . Perhaps a father blest with any brains Would deem it no abuse or waste of pains , T' improve this diet at no great expence , With sav'ry truth and wholesome common sense . To lead his son for prospects of delight To some not steep , though philosophic height , Thence to exhibit to his wondering eyes Yon circling worlds , their distance , and their size , The moons of Jove and Saturn's belted ball , And the harmonious order of them all ; To show him in an insect or a flow'r , Such microscopic proofs of skill and pow'r , As hid from ages pass'd , God now displays To combat Atheists with in modern days ; To spread the earth before him , and commend With designation of the fingers 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 set some living worthy in his view , Whose fair example may at once inspire A wish to copy what he must admire . Such knowledge gained betimes , and which appears Though solid , not too weighty for his years , Sweet in itself , and not forbidding sport , When health demands it , of athletic sort , Would make him what some lovely boys have been , And more than one perhaps that I have seen , An evidence and reprehension both Of the mere school-boy's lean and tardy growth . Art thou a man professionally tied , With all thy faculties elsewhere applied , Too busy to intend a meaner care Than how to enrich thyself , 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 sprightly mingled with a shade of sad , Not of a nimble tongue , though now and then Heard to articulate like other men , No jester , and yet lively in discourse , His phrase well chosen , clear , and full of force , And his address , if not quite French in ease , Not English stiff , but frank and formed to please , Low in the world because he scorns its arts , A man of letters , manners , morals , parts , Unpatronized , and therefore little known , Wise for himself and his few friends alone , In him , thy well appointed proxy see , Armed for a work too difficult for thee , Prepared by taste , by learning , and true worth , To form thy son , to strike his genius forth , Beneath thy roof , beneath thine eye to prove The force of discipline when back'd by love , To double all thy pleasure in thy child , His mind informed , his morals undefiled . Safe under such a wing , the boy shall show No spots contracted among grooms below , Nor taint his speech with meannesses design'd By footman Tom for witty and refin'd . There — in his commerce with the liveried herd Lurks the contagion chiefly to be fear'd . For since ( so 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 cause occurs to save him from a band So sure to spoil him , and so near at hand , A point secured , if once he be supplied With some such Mentor always at his side . Are such 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 outlived all just esteem , Exchang'd for the secure domestie scheme . But having found him , be thou duke or earl , Show thou hast sense enough to prize the pearl , And as thou would'st th' advancement of thine heir In all good faculties beneath his care , Respect , as is but rational and just , A man deem'd worthy of so dear a trust . Despised by thee , what more can he expect From youthful folly , than the same neglect ? A flat and fatal negative obtains That instant , upon all his future pains ; His lessons tire , his mild rebukes offend , And all the instructions of thy son's best friend Are a stream choak'd , or trickling to no end . Doom him not then to solitary meals , But recollect that he has sense , and feels . And , that possessor of a soul refin'd , An upright heart and cultivated mind , His post not mean , his talents not unknown , He deems it hard to vegetate alone . And if admitted at thy board he sit , Account him no just mark for idle wit , Offend not him whom modesty restrains 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 hired or bound to teach , Much trash unutter'd and some ills undone , Through rev'rence of the censor of thy son . But if thy table be indeed unclean , Foul with excess , and with discourse obscene , And thou a wretch , whom , following her old plan The world accounts an honourable man , Because forsooth thy courage has been tried And stood the test , perhaps on the wrong side , Though thou hadst never grace enough to prove That any thing but vice could win thy love ; Or hast thou a polite , card-playing wife , Chained to the routs that she frequents , for life , Who , just when industry begins to snore , Flies , wing'd with joy , to some coach-crouded door , And thrice in ev'ry winter throngs thine own With half the chariots and sedans in town , Thyself meanwhile e'en shifting as thou may'st , Not very sober though , nor very chaste ; Or is thine house , though less superb thy rank , If not a scene of pleasure , a mere blank , And thou at best , and in thy sob'rest mood , A trifler , vain , and empty of all good ? Though mercy for thyself thou can'st have none , Hear nature plead , show mercy to thy son . Saved from his home , where ev'ry day brings forth Some mischief fatal to his future worth , Find him a better in a distant spot , Within some pious pastor's humble cot , Where vile example ( your's I chiefly mean , The most seducing and the oft'nest seen ) May never more be stamp'd upon his breast Not yet perhaps incurably impress'd . Where early rest makes early rising sure , Disease or comes not , or finds easy cure , Prevented much by diet neat and plain , Or if it enter , soon starved out again . Where all th' attention of his faithful host Discreetly limited to two at most , May raise such fruits as shall reward his care , And not at last evaporate in air . Where stillness aiding study , and his mind Serene , and to his duties much inclined , Not occupied in day-dreams , as at home , Of pleasures past or follies yet to come , His virtuous toil may terminate at last In settled habit and decided taste . But whom do I advise ? the fashion-led , Th' incorrigibly wrong , the deaf , the dead , Whom care and cool deliberation suit Not better much , than spectacles a brute , Who if their sons some slight tuition share , Deem it of no great moment , whose , or where , Too proud t' adopt the thoughts of one unknown , And much too gay t' have any of their own . But courage man ! methought the muse replied , Mankind are various , and the world is wide ; The ostrich , silliest of the feather'd kind , And form'd of God without a parent's mind , Commits her eggs , incautious , to the dust , Forgetful that the foot may crush the trust ; And while on public nurs'ries they rely , Not knowing , and too oft not caring why , Irrational in what they thus prefer , No few , that would seem wise , resemble her . But all are not alike . Thy warning voice May here and there prevent erroneous choice , And some perhaps , who , busy as they are , Yet make their progeny their dearest care , Whose hearts will ache once told what ills may reach Their offspring left upon so wild a beach , Will need no stress of argument t' inforce Th' expedience of a less advent'rous course . The rest will slight thy counsel , or condemn , But they have human feelings . Turn to them . To you then , tenants of life's middle state , Securely placed between the small and great , Whose character , yet undebauch'd , retains Two thirds of all the virtue that remains , Who wise yourselves , desire your sons should learn Your wisdom and your ways — to you I turn . Look round you on a world perversely blind , See what contempt is fall'n on human kind , See wealth abused , and dignities misplac'd , Great titles , offices , and trusts disgrac'd , Long lines of ancestry renown'd of old , Their noble qualities all quench'd and cold , See Bedlam's closetted and hand-cuff'd charge Surpass'd in frenzy by the mad at large , See great commanders making war a trade , Great lawyers , lawyers without study made , Churchmen , in whose esteem their blest employ Is odious , and their wages all their joy , Who far enough from furnishing their shelves With gospel lore , turn infidels themselves , See womanhood despised , and manhood shamed With infamy too nauseous to be named , Fops at all corners lady-like in mien , Civetted fellows , smelt 'ere they are seen , Else coarse and rude in manners , and their tongue On fire with curses and with nonsense hung , Now flush'd with drunk'ness , now with whoredom pale , Their breath a sample of last night's regale , See volunteers in all the vilest arts Men well endowed , of honourable parts , Design'd by nature wise , but self-made fools ; All these , and more like these , were bred at schools . And if it chance , as sometimes chance it will , That though school-bred , the boy be virtuous still , Such rare exceptions shining in the dark , Prove rather than impeach the just remark , As here and there a twinkling star descried Serves but to show how black is all beside . Now look on him whose very voice in tone Just echos thine , whose 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 , transplanted from thy genial home Must find a colder soil and bleaker air , And trust for safety to a stranger's care ; What character , what turn thou wilt assume From constant converse with I know not whom , Who there will court thy friendship , with what views , And , artless as thou art , whom thou wilt chuse , Though much depends on what thy choice shall be , Is all chance-medley and unknown to me . Can'st thou , the tear just trembling on thy lids , And while the dreadful risque foreseen , forbids , Free too , and under no constraining force , Unless the sway of custom warp thy course , Lay such a stake upon the losing side , Merely to gratify so blind a guide ? Thou can'st not : Nature pulling at thine heart Condemns th' unfatherly , th' imprudent part . Thou would'st not , deaf to Nature's tend'rest plea , Turn him adrift upon a rolling sea , Nor say , go thither , conscious that there lay A brood of asps , or quicksands in his way , Then only govern'd by the self-same 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 hopest thou not ( 'tis ev'ry father's hope ) That since thy strength must with thy years elope ; And thou wilt need some comfort to assuage Health's last farewell , a staff of thine old age , That then , in recompense of all thy cares , Thy child shall show respect 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 compass that good end , forecast the means . His heart , now passive , yields to thy command ; Secure it thine . Its key is in thine hand . If thou desert thy charge and throw it wide , Nor heed what guests there enter and abide , Complain not if attachments lewd and base Supplant thee in it , and usurp thy place . But if thou guard its sacred chambers sure From vicious inmates and delights impure , Either his gratitude shall hold him fast , And keep him warm and filial to the last , Or if he prove unkind , ( as who can say But being man , and therefore frail , he may ) One comfort yet shall cheer thine aged heart , Howe'er he slight thee , thou hast done thy part . Oh barb'rous ! would'st thou with a Gothic hand Pull down the schools — what ! — all the schools i' th' land ? Or throw them up to liv'ry-nags and grooms , Or turn them into shops and auction-rooms ? A captious question , sir , and your's is one , Deserves an answer similar , or none . Would'st thou , possessor of a flock , employ ( Apprized that he is such ) a careless boy , And feed him well and give him handsome pay , Merely to sleep , and let them run astray ? Survey our schools and colleges , and see A sight not much unlike my simile . From education , as the leading cause , The public character its colour draws , Thence the prevailing manners take their cast , Extravagant or sober , loose or chaste . And though I would not advertize them yet , Nor write on each — This Building to be Lett , Unless the world were all prepared to embrace A plan well-worthy to supply 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 managed , or encouraged less .