Each brain its thought, each season has its mode; Manners and fashions alter every day; Examine for yourself what others say;-- This privilege by nature is bestowed;-- But, oh! dispute not--the designs of heaven To mortal insight never can be given. What is the knowledge of this world worth knowing? What, but a bubble scarcely worth the blowing? "Quite full of errors was the world before;" Then, to preach reason is but one error more. Viewing this earth from Luna's elevation, Or any other convenient situation, What shall we see? The various tricks of man. _Here_ is a synod--_there_ is a divan; Behold the mufti, dervish, iman, bonze, The lama and the pope on equal thrones. The modern doctor and the ancient rabbi, The monk, the priest, and the expectant abbé: If you are disputants, my friends, pray travel-- When you come home again, you'll cease to cavil. That wild Ambition should lay waste the earth, Or Beauty's glance give civil discord birth; That, in our courts of equity, a suit Should hang in doubt till ruin is the fruit; That an old country priest should deeply groan, To see a benefice he'd thought his own Borne off by a court abbé; that a poet Should feel most envy when he least should show it; And, when another's play the public draws, Should grin damnation while he claps applause; With this, and more, the human heart is fraught-- But whence the rage to rule another's thought; Say, wherefore--in what way--can you design To make _your_ judgment give the law to _mine_? But chiefly I detest those tiresome elves, Half-learned critics, worshipping themselves, Who, with the utmost weight of all their lead, Maintain against you what yourself have said; Philosophers--and poets--and musicians-- Great statesmen--deep in third and fourth editions-- They know all--read all--and (the greatest curse) They _talk_ of all--from politics to verse; On points of taste they'll contradict Voltaire; In law e'en Montesquieu they will not spare; They'll tutor Broglio in affairs of arms; And teach the charming d'Egmont higher charms. See them, alike in great and small things clever, Replying constantly, though answering never; Hear them assert, repeat, affirm, aver, Wax wroth. And wherefore all this mighty stir? This the great theme that agitates their breast-- Which of two wretched rhymesters rhymes the best?