There Still Remains To Mortify A Wit

Where Grows?--where Grows It Not? If Vain Our Toil, We Ought To Blame The Culture, Not The Soil.

Our Proper Bliss Depends On What We Blame.

Hills Peep O'er Hills, And Alps On Alps Arise.

The World Is A Thing We Must Of Necessity Either Laugh At Or Be Angry At; If We Laugh At It, They Say We Are Proud; If We Are Angry At It, They Say We Are Ill-natured.

See Skulking Truth To Her Old Cavern Fled, Mountains Of Casuistry Heap'd O'er Her Head! Philosophy, That Lean'd On Heav'n Before, Shrinks To Her Second Cause, And Is No More. Physic Of Metaphysic Begs Defence, And Metaphysic Calls For Aid On Sense! See Mystery To Mathematics Fly!