_Par._ This favor at their hands I look for earlier than your view of things Would warrant. Of the crowd you saw to-day, Remove the full half sheer amazement draws, Mere novelty, naught else; and next, the tribe Whose innate blockish dulness just perceives That unless miracles (as seem my works) Be wrought in their behalf, their chance is slight To puzzle the devil; next, the numerous set Who bitterly hate established schools, and help The teacher that oppugns them, till he once Have planted his own doctrine, when the teacher May reckon on their rancor in his turn; Take, too, the sprinkling of sagacious knaves Whose cunning runs not counter to the vogue, But seeks, by flattery and crafty nursing, To force my system to a premature Short-lived development. Why swell the list? Each has his end to serve, and his best way Of serving it: remove all these, remains A scantling, a poor dozen at the best, Worthy to look for sympathy and service, And likely to draw profit from my pains. _Fest._ 'T is no encouraging picture: still these few Redeem their fellows. Once the germ implanted, Its growth, if slow, is sure. _Par._ God grant it so! I would make some amends: but if I fail, The luckless rogues have this excuse to urge, That much is in my method and my manner, My uncouth habits, my impatient spirit, Which hinders of reception and result My doctrine: much to say, small skill to speak! These old aims suffered not a looking-off Though for an instant; therefore, only when I thus renounce them and resolved to reap Some present fruit--to teach mankind some truth So dearly purchased--only then I found Such teaching was an art requiring cares And qualities peculiar to itself: That to possess was one thing--to display Another. With renown first in my thoughts, Or popular praise, I had soon discovered it: One grows but little apt to learn these things. _Fest._ If it be so, which nowise I believe, There needs no waiting fuller dispensation To leave a labor of so little use. Why not throw up the irksome charge at once?