'Ah, think not, mistress! more true Dulness lies In Folly's cap, than Wisdom's grave disguise; 240 Like buoys, that never sink into the flood, On Learning's surface we but lie and nod. Thine is the genuine head of many a house, And much divinity[406] without a [Greek: Nous]. Nor could a Barrow work on every block, Nor has one Atterbury spoil'd the flock. See! still thy own, the heavy cannon roll, And metaphysic smokes involve the pole. For thee we dim the eyes, and stuff the head With all such reading as was never read: 250 For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it, And write about it, goddess, and about it: So spins the silk-worm small its slender store, And labours till it clouds itself all o'er. 'What though we let some better sort of fool Thrid every science, run through every school? Never by tumbler through the hoops was shown Such skill in passing all, and touching none. He may indeed (if sober all this time) Plague with dispute, or persecute with rhyme. 260 We only furnish what he cannot use, Or wed to what he must divorce, a Muse: Full in the midst of Euclid dip at once, And petrify a genius to a dunce;[407] Or, set on metaphysic ground to prance, Show all his paces, not a step advance. With the same cement, ever sure to bind, We bring to one dead level every mind. Then take him to develop, if you can, And hew the block off,[408] and get out the man. 270 But wherefore waste I words? I see advance Whore, pupil, and laced governor from France. Walker! our hat,'--nor more he deign'd to say, But, stern as Ajax' spectre,[409] strode away.