When you in ev'ry place yourself profess
A deep philosopher, you but express
Much vanity, much self-conceit betray,
And shew you are not truly what you say.
Amongst rude ignorants, unthinking fools,
To talk of precepts, maxims, and of rules,
Is to be laugh'd at, thought a banterer,
For how can they approve beyond their sphere?
Your knowledge by your way of living shew,
What is't, alas! to them, how much you know?
Act as your precepts teach, as at a feast,
Eat as 'tis fit, 'tis vain to teach the rest
How they should eat, who come but to enjoy
The present chear, to swallow and destroy;
Who come to gormandize, and not to hear
The sober precepts of a lecturer.
Let socrates instruct you to despise
The fond desire of being counted wise,
Who, being ask'd by some (who had design'd
To affont him with a jest) to be so kind,
As to instruct them how to find, and where
There dwelt some grave profound philosopher;
Although the impudent request imply'd
That he was none, without concern, or pride,
Or the least shew of anger, led them thence
To those who sold philosophy for a pence,
Who publicly possess'd it as a trade,
And a good handsome income by it made.