He that the way to honefty will learn,
Firft what's to be avoided muft difcern.
Thyfelf from flattering felf-conceit defend,
Nor what thou doft not know, to know pretend.
Some fecrets deep in abftrufe darkness lie;
To fearch them thou wilt need a piercing eye.
Nor rafhly therefore to fuch things affent,
Which undeceiv'd, thou after may'st repent;
Study and time in these must thee instruct,
And others old experience may conduct.
Wisdom herself her ear doth often lend
To counsel offer'd by a faithful friend.
In equal scales two doubtful matters lay,

t

Thou may'st chufe fafely that which most doth weigh 'Tis not fecure, this place or that to guard,

If any other entrance ftand unbarr'd;

He that escapes the ferpent's teeth may fail,
If he himself fecures not from his tail.
Who faith, who could fuch ill events expect?
With fhame on his own counfels doth reflect.
Moft in the world doth felf-conceit deceive,
Who juft and good, whate'er they act, believe;
To their wills wedded, to their errors flaves,
No man (like them) they think himself behaves.
This ftiff-neck'd pride nor art nor force can bend,
Nor high-flown hopes to Reafon's lure defcend.
Fathers fometimes their children's faults regard
With pleasure, and their crimes with gifts reward.
Ill painters, when they draw, and poets write,
Virgil and Titian (self admiring) flight;

Then

Then all they do, like gold and pearl appears,
And other actions are but dirt to theirs.
They that fo highly think themselves above
All other men, themfelves can only love;
Reason and virtue, all that man can boast
O'er other creatures, in thofe brutes are loft.
Obferve (if thee this fatal error touch,
Thou to thyfelf contributing too much)
Those who are generous, humble, just, and wise,
Who not their gold, nor themselves idolize;
To form thyfelf by their example learn
(For many eyes can more than one difcern);
But yet beware of counfels when too full,

Number makes long difputes and graveness dull;
Though their advice be good, their counfel wife,
Yet length ftill lofes opportunities :

Debate deftroys difpatch; as fruits we fee
Rot, when they hang too long upon the tree;
In vain that husbandman his feed doth fow,
If he his crop not in due feafon mow.
A general fets his army in array

In vain, unless he fight, and win the day.
'Tis virtuous action that muft praife bring forth,
Without which flow advice is little worth.
Yet they who give good counfel, praise deserve,
Though in the active part they cannot serve :
In action, learned counfellors their age,
Profeffion, or difeafe, forbids t' engage.
Nor to philofophers is praife deny'd,
Whose wife inftructions after-ages guide;

Yet

Yet vainly moft their age in study spend;
No end of writing books, and to no end :
Beating their brains for strange and hidden things,
Whofe knowledge, nor delight, nor profit brings;
Themselves with doubt both day and night perplex,
Nor gentle reader please, or teach, but vex.
Books should to one of these four ends conduce,
For wisdom, picty, delight, or use.

What need we gaze upon the spangled sky?
Or into matter's hidden causes pry?

To describe every city, stream, or hill

I' th' world, our fancy with vain arts to fill?
What is 't to hear a fophifter, that pleads,
Who by the ears the deceiv'd audience leads?
If we were wife, these things we should not mind,
But more delight in easy matters find.

Learn to live well, that thou may'ft die fo too;

To live and die is all we have to do:

The way (if no digreffion's made) is even,
And free accefs, if we but afk, is given.

Then feek to know thofe things which make us bleft,
And having found them, lock them in thy breast;
Enquiring then the way, go on, nor flack,

But mend thy pace, nor think of going back.
Some their whole age in these enquiries wafte,
And die like fools before one step they 've past ;
'Tis ftrange to know the way, and not t' advance,
That knowledge is far worse than ignorance.
The learned teach, but what they teach, not do;
And standing still themselves, make others go.

In vain on study time away we throw,

When we forbear to act the things we know.
The foldier that philofopher well blam'd,

Who long and loudly in the schools declaim'd;
Tell (faid the foldier) venerable fir,

Why all these words, this clamour, and this ftir?
Why do difputes in wrangling fpend the day?
Whilft one fays only yea, and t’other nay.
Oh, faid the doctor, we for wisdom toil'd,

For which none toils too much: the foldier fmil'd;
You 're grey and old, and to fome pious ufe
This mafs of treasure you should now reduce:
But you your ftore have hoarded in fome bank,
For which th' infernal fpirits fhall you thank.
Let what thou learneft be by practice fhown,
'Tis faid that wifdom's children make her known.
What's good doth open to th' enquirer ftand,
And itfelf offers to th' accepting hand;
All things by order and true measures done,
Wisdom will end, as well as the begun.
Let early care thy main concerns fecure,
Things of lefs moment may delays endure:
Men do not for their fervants first prepare,
And of their wives and children quit the care;
Yet when we 're fick, the doctor 's fetcht in hafte,
Leaving our great concernment to the laft.
When we are well, our hearts are only fet
(Which way we care not) to be rich, or great;
What fhall become of all that we have got;
We only know that us it follows not;

And

And what a trifle is a moment's breath,
Laid in the fcale with everlasting death!
What's time, when on eternity we think?
A thousand ages in that fea must fink;
Time's nothing but a word, a million
Is full as far from infinite as one.

To whom thou much doft owe, thou much must pay,
Think on the debt against th' accompting-day;
God, who to thee reason and knowledge lent,
Will ask how these two talents have been spent.
Let not low pleasures thy high reafon blind,
He's mad, that feeks what no man e'er could find.
Why should we fondly please our sense, wherein
Beafts us exceed, nor feel the stings of fin?
What thoughts man's reafon better can become,
Than th' expectation of his welcome home?
Lords of the world have but for life their leafe,
And that to (if the lesser please) must cease.
Death cancels nature's bonds, but for our deeds
(That debt first paid) a ftrict account fucceeds;
If here not clear'd, no furetyship can bail
Condemned debtors from th' eternal gaol.
Chrift's blood's our balfam; if that cure us here,
Him, when our judge, we shall not find fevere;
His yoke is eafy when by us embrac'd,
But loads and galls, if on our necks 'tis cast.
Be juft in all thy actions; and if join'd
With those that are not, never change thy mind:
If aught obftruct thy courfe, yet ftand not ftill,
But wind about, till you have topp'd the hill;

Το