That holds mankind together to a scourge.
Profusion, deluging a state with lusts
Of grossest nature and of worst effects,
Prepares it for its ruin: hardens, blinds,

And warps, the consciences of public men,
Till they can laugh at virtue; mock the fools
That trust them; and, in th' end, disclose a face
That would have shock'd credulity herself,
Unmask'd, vouchsafing this their sole excuse-
Since all alike are selfish, why not they?
This does profusion, and th' accursed cause
Of such deep mischief has itself a cause.

In colleges and halls, in ancient days, When learning, virtue, piety, and truth, Were precious, and inculcated with care,

There dwelt a sage call'd Discipline. His head, Not

yet by time completely silver'd o'er,

Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth,

But strong for service still, and unimpair'd.

His eye was meek and gentle, and a smile

Play'd on his lips; and in his speech was heard Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love.

The occupation dearest to his heart

Was to encourage goodness. He would stroke
The head of modest and ingenuous worth,
That blush'd at its own praise; and press the youth
Close to his side that pleas'd him. Learning grew,
Beneath his care, a thriving vig'rous plant;

The mind was well inform'd, the passions held
Subordinate, and diligence was choice.

If e'er it chanc'd, as sometimes chance it must,
That one among so many overleap'd

The limits of controul, his gentle eye
Grew stern, and darted a severe rebuke:
His frown was full of terror, and his voice
Shook the delinquent with such fits of awe
As left him not, till penitence had won

Lost favour back again, and clos'd the breach.
But Discipline, a faithful servant long,

Declin'd at length into the vale of years:

A palsy struck his arm; his sparkling eye

Was quench'd in rheums of age; his voice, un

strung,

Grew tremulous, and mov'd derision more

Than rev'rence in perverse rebellious youth.
So colleges and halls neglected much

Their good old friend; and Discipline at length,
O'erlook'd and unemploy'd, fell sick and died.
Then study languish'd, emulation slept,

And virtue fled. The schools became a scene Of solemn farce, where Ignorance in stilts,

His

cap well lin❜d with logic not his own,

With parrot tongue perform'd the scholar's part, Proceeding soon a graduated dunce.

Then compromise had place, and scrutiny

Became stone-blind; precedence went in truck, And he was competent whose purse was so.

A dissolution of all bonds ensued;

The curbs, invented for the mulish mouth

Of head-strong youth, were broken; bars and bolts

Grew rusty by disuse; and massy gates
Forgot their office, op'ning with a touch;

Till gowns at length are found mere masquerade,
The tassell'd cap and the spruce band a jest,

A mock'ry of the world! What need of these
For gamesters, jockeys, brothellers impure,
Spendthrifts, and booted sportsmen, oft'ner seen
With belted waist and pointers at their heels
Than in the bounds of duty? What was learn'd,
If aught was learn'd in childhood, is forgot;
And such expense as pinches parents blue,
And mortifies the lib'ral hand of love,

Is squander'd in pursuit of idle sports

And vicious pleasures; buys the boy a name,
That sits a stigma on his father's house,

And cleaves through life inseparably close
To him that wears it. What can after-games
Of riper joys, and commerce with the world,
The lewd vain world, that must receive him soon,

Add to such erudition, thus acquir'd,

Where science and where virtue are profess'd?

They may confirm his habits, rivet fast

His folly, but to spoil him is a task

That bids defiance to th' united pow'rs
Of fashion, dissipation, taverns, stews.
Now, blame we most the nurslings or the nurse?
The children, crook'd, and twisted, and deform'd,
Through want of care; or her, whose winking eye
And slumb❜ring oscitancy mars the brood?
The nurse no doubt. Regardless of her charge,
She needs herself correction; needs to learn,
That it is dang'rous sporting with the world,
With things so sacred as a nation's trust,
The nurture of her youth, her dearest pledge.

All are not such. I had a brother once-
Peace to the mem'ry of a man of worth,
A man of letters, and of manners too!
Of manners sweet as virtue always wears,