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Nor let your learning always be discern'd,
But chuse to seem 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 should efcape,
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 felf-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 epiftles,

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

Or Phileunucha rant on Farinelli;

Flirtilla read a lecture on a fan,

Or Wd fet forth the praife of Kouli-Kan
But above all things raillery decline,
Nature but few does for that tafk defign:
'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 tafte 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 jeft,
Excus'd the wound, and fanctify'd the peft:
But we from high to low all strive to fneer,
Will all be wits, and not the livery wear.

Of all the qualities that help to raise
In men the universal voice of praise,
Whether in pleasure or in use they end,
There's none that can with modesty 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.

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Yet, 'tis but little that its form be caught,
Unless its origin be first in thought:
Elfe rebel nature will reveal the cheat,

And the whole work of art at once defeat.
Hold forth upon yourself on no pretence,
Unless invited, or in felf-defence;

The praise you take, although it be your due,
Will be fufpected, if it come from you:
For each man, by experience taught, can tell
How ftrong a flatterer does within him dwell:
And if to felf-condemning you incline,
In fober sadness, and without defign,
(For fome will flyly arrogate a vice,

That from excefs of virtue takes its rise)

The world cries out, why does he hither come?
Let him do penance for his fins at home.

No part of conduct asks for skill more nice,
Though none more common, than to give advice:
Mifers themselves in this will not be faving,
Unless their knowledge makes it worth the having.
And where's the wonder, when we will obtrude
An ufelefs gift, it meets ingratitude?

Shun then, unafk'd, this arduous task to try;
But if confulted, ufe fincerity;

Too

Too facred is the welfare of a friend,

To give it up

for any felfish end.

But ufe one caution, fift him o'er and o'er,

To find if all be not refolv'd before,

If fuch the cafe, in fpite of all his art,

Some word will give the foundings of his heart;
And why should you a bootless freedom use,
That ferves him not, and may his friendship lofe?
Yet still on truth bestow this mark of love,
Ne'er to commend the thing you can't approve,
Sincerity has fuch refiftless charms,

She oft the fierceft of our foes difarms:

No art she knows, in native whiteness dress'd,

Her thoughts all pure, and therefore all exprefs'd:
She takes from error its deformity;

And without her, all other virtues die.

Bright fource of goodness! to my aid defcend,
Watch o'er my heart, and all my words attend :
If ftill thou deign to fet thy foot below,
Among a race quite polish'd into show,
Oh! fave me from the jilt's diffembling part,
Who grants to all all favours, but her heart;
Perverts the end of charming, for the fame;
To fawn, her business; to deceive, her aim:

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She smiles on this man, tips the wink on that,
Gives one a squeeze, another a kind pat;

Now jogs a foot, now whispers in an ear ;
Here flips a letter, and there cafts a leer;
'Till the kind thing, the company throughout,
Distributes all its pretty self about;

While all are pleas'd, and wretched foon or late,
All but the wife, who fee and fhun the bait.
Yet if, as complaifance requires to do,

And rigid virtue sometimes will allow,
You ftretch the truth in favour of a friend,
Be fure it ever aim at some good end;
To cherish growing virtue, vice to fhame,
And turn to noble views the love of fame :
And not, like fawning parafites, unaw'd
By fenfe or truth, be every paffion's bawd.
Be rarely warm in cenfure, or in praife;
Few men deserve our paffion either ways:
For half the world but floats 'twixt good and ill,
As chance difpofes objects, these the will:

'Tis but a fee-faw game, where virtue now

Mounts above vice, and then finks down as low.
Befides the wife ftill hold it for a rule,

To truft that judgment moft, that feems moft cool</

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