WILLIAM COWPER.

CONVERSATION.

Though Nature weigh our talents, and dispense
To every man his modicum of sense,
And Conversation, in its better part,
May be esteemed a gift, and not an art,
Yet much depends, as in the tiller's toil,
On culture, and the sowing of the soil.
Words learned by rote a parrot may rehearse,
But talking is not always to converse;
Not more distinct from harmony divine,
The constant creaking of a country sign.
As alphabets in ivory employ,
Hour after hour, the yet unlettered boy,
Sorting and puzzling, with a deal of glee,
Those seeds of science called his A, B, C ;
So language, in the mouth of the adult,
(Witness its insignificant result)
Too often proves an implement of play,
A toy to sport with, and pass time away.

Collect at evening what the day brought forth,
Compress the sum into its solid worth,
And if it weigh the importance of a fly,
The scales are false, or algebra a lie.
Sacred interpreter of human thought,
How few respect or use thee as they ought!
But all shall give account of every wrong,
Who dare dishonour or defile the tongue;
Who prostitute it in the cause of vice,
Or sell their glory at a market-price;

Who vote for hire, or point it with lampoon,

The dear-bought placeman, and the cheap buffoon.
There is a prurience in the speech of some,

Wrath stays him, or else God would strike them dumb:
His wise forbearance has their end in view,
They fill their measure and receive their due.

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The heathen lawgivers of ancient days
(Names almost worthy of a Christian's praise)
Would drive them forth from the resort of men,
And shut up every satyr in his den.

O come not ye near innocence and truth,
Ye worms that eat into the bud of youth!
Infectious as impure, your blighting power
Taints in its rudiments the promised flower :
Its odour perished, and its charming hue,
Thenceforth 'tis hateful, for it smells of you.

Oaths terminate, as Paul observes, all strife-
Some men have surely, then, a peaceful life;
Whatever subject occupy discourse,
The feats of Vestris, or the naval force,
Asseveration blustering in your face
Makes contradiction such a hopeless case:
In every tale they tell, or false or true,
Well known, or such as no man ever knew,
They fix attention, heedless of your pain,

With oaths like rivets forced into the brain ;
And e'en when sober truth prevails throughout,
They swear it, till affirmance breeds a doubt.
A Persian, humble servant of the Sun,
Who, though devout, yet bigotry had none,
Hearing a lawyer, grave in his address,
With adjurations every word impress,
Supposed the man a bishop, or, at least,
God's name so much upon his lips, a priest;
Bowed at the close with all his graceful airs,
And begged an interest in his frequent prayers.
Go, quit the rank to which ye stood preferred,
Henceforth associate in one common herd;
Religion, virtue, reason, common sense,
Pronounce your human form a false pretence;
A mere disguise, in which a devil lurks,

Who yet betrays his secret by his works.

Ye powers who rule the tongue (if such there are)
And make colloquial happiness your care,

Preserve me from the thing I dread and hate,
A duel in the form of a debate.

1 A celebrated opera-dancer.

The clash of arguments and jar of words,
Worse than the mortal brunt of rival swords,
Decide no question with their tedious length,
(For opposition gives opinion strength):
Divert the champions prodigal of breath,
And put the peaceably-disposed to death.
O thwart me not, Sir Soph', at every turn,
Nor carp at every flaw you may discern;
Though syllogisms hang not on my tongue,
I am not, surely, always in the wrong;
'Tis hard if all is false that I advance,

A fool must now and then be right by chance:
Not that all freedom of dissent I blame;
No-there I grant the privilege I claim.
A disputable point is no man's ground;
Rove where you please, 'tis common all around,
Discourse may want an animated No,
To brush the surface, and to make it flow;
But still remember, if you mean to please,
To press your point with modesty and ease.
The mark, at which my juster aim I take,
Is contradiction for its own dear sake.
Set your opinion at whatever pitch,

Knots and impediments make something hitch;
Adopt his own, 'tis equally in vain,

Your thread of argument is snapped again;
The wrangler, rather than accord with you,
Will judge himself deceived, and prove it too.
Vociferated logic kills me quite,

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A noisy man is always in the right:

I twirl my thumbs, fall back into my chair,
Fix on the wainscot a distressful stare,
And, when I hope his blunders are all out,
Reply discreetly-"To be sure". "No doubt!"
Dubius is such a scrupulous good man-

Yes-you may catch him tripping if you can.
He would not, with a peremptory tone,
Assert the nose upon his face his own;
With hesitation admirably slow,

He humbly hopes - presumes-it may be so.

1 Soph, for sophist, a wrangler in 2 Strict forms of argument. dispute.

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His evidence, if he were called by law
To swear to some enormity he saw,
For want of prominence and just relief,
Would hang an honest man, and save a thief.
Through constant dread of giving truth offence,
He ties up all his hearers in suspense;
Knows what he knows, as if he knew it not;
What he remembers, seems to have forgot;
His sole opinion, whatsoe'er befall,

Centering at last in having none at all.

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Yet, though he tease and baulk your listening ear,

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He makes one useful point exceeding clear,
Howe'er ingenious on his darling theme

A sceptic in philosophy may seem,
Reduced to practice, his belovèd rule
Would only prove him a consummate fool;
Useless in him alike both brain and speech,
Fate having placed all truth above his reach,
His ambiguities his total sum,

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He might as well be blind, and deaf, and dumb.
Where men of judgment creep and feel their way,
The positive pronounce without dismay;

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Their want of light and intellect supplied

By sparks absurdity strikes out of pride.

Without the means of knowing right from wrong,
They always are decisive, clear, and strong;
Where others toil with philosophic force,
Their nimble nonsense takes a shorter course;
Flings at your head conviction in the lump,
And gains remote conclusions at a jump:
Their own defect, invisible to them,

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Seen in another, they at once condemn ;
And, though self-idolized in every case,
Hate their own likeness in a brother's face.
The cause is plain, and not to be denied,
The proud are always most provoked by pride;
Few competitions but engender spite,
And those the most when neither has a right.

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The point of honour has been deemed of use,
To teach good manners, and to curb abuse;
Admit it true, the consequence is clear,
Our polished manners are a mask we wear,

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And, at the bottom, barbarous and rude,
We are restrained indeed, but not subdued.
The very remedy, however sure,

Springs from the mischief it intends to cure,
And savage in its principle appears,
Tried, as it should be, by the fruit it bears.
'Tis hard, indeed, if nothing will defend
Mankind from quarrels but their fatal end;
That now and then a hero must decease;
That the surviving world may live in peace.
Perhaps at last, close scrutiny may show
The practice dastardly, and mean, and low;
That men engage in it compelled by force,
And fear, not courage, is its proper source;
The fear of tyrant custom, and the fear

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Lest fops should censure us, and fools should sneer.
At least to trample on our Maker's laws,
And hazard life for any or no cause,

To rush into a fixed eternal state

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Out of the very flames of rage and hate,
Or send another shivering to the bar
With all the guilt of such unnatural war,
Whatever Use may urge, or Honour plead,
On Reason's verdict, is a madman's deed.
Am I to set my life upon a throw
Because a bear is rude and surly? No-
A moral, sensible, and well-bred man
Will not affront me; and no other can.
Were I empowered to regulate the lists,
They should encounter with well-loaded fists;
A Trojan combat would be something new,
Let Dares beat Entellus1 black and blue;

Then each might show, to his admiring friends,
In honourable bumps, his rich amends,

And carry, in contusions of his skull,

A satisfactory receipt in full.

A story in which native humour reigns,

Is often useful, always entertains;

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A graver fact, enlisted on your side,
May furnish illustration, well applied;

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1 Dares and Entellus are the names of two prize-fighters mentioned in Virgil's Eneid, lib. v. 1. 426.