Classic Poem

If Men, the less they talk, or seem to know,
For more discreet or politick may go;
Then ev'n the Wisest but pretend to Wit,
By copying Dullness, and dissembling it.
Since Coxcombs when to go for Wits they mean,
Pretend to Wit by Dulness, call'd the Spleen.
If He who acts with Prudence, acts by Rule,
And none observe more Order than the Dull;
Those Schemes and Methods which the Wise pursue,
From Dulness first into Example grew.
If Wit be noisy, positive, and vain,
Licentious, bold, detracting, and prophane;
Then silent cautious Dulness ought to pass
For Reason, Modesty, Religion, Grace:
Since Faith, by which to Heav'n we make pretence,
Is but our meritorious Want of Sense.
If That the Height of Wisdom we confess,
Which seeks not to be more, nor can be less;
That fix'd, unalterable Constancy,
Is found in settled, firm, Stupidity:
Pleas'd with it self, no Dangers it foreknows,
No Shame it suffers, and it feels no Woes.

Wit finds no Place or at the Bench, or Bar,
The lofty Pulpit, or the Doctor's Chair:
In serious Bus'ness Wit becomes a Jest,
Vain Praise preferring to true Interest;
With too much haste its own Design prevents,
By scorning e'er to go by Presidents:
And indiscreetly makes its Meaning plain;
But Fools their cautious Character maintain.
They best their Judgment and Discretion shew,
In letting none their senseless Meaning know.
The Dull Deliberate more slowly move,
And so more wisely, in Revenge or Love,
The heavy Circumspect successful prove;
In Courts, tho' slippery, they still go sure,
And like Philosophers can Scorn endure.
The Poize of Dulness to the heavy Skull,
Is like the Leaden Byass to the Bowl,
Which, as more pond'rous, makes its Aim more true,
And guides it surer to the Mark in view;
The more it seems to go about, to come
The nearer to its End, or Purpose, home.
Without due Weight, the busie Machine, Man,
His Mind's and Body's Movements has in vain;
Both which, if lighter, but more useless were,
As more confus'd, and more irregular.
So Clocks to Lead their nimble Motions owe,
The Springs above urg'd by the Weight below;
The pond'rous Ballance keeps its Poize the same,
Actuates, maintains, and rules the moving Frame.
Dulness is Quiet, Peace, and Innocence,
For at the Blockhead no Man takes Offence:
Dulness is safe, and undisturb'd plods on,
For none regard what by the Fool is done:
'Tis nat'ral Sense, and sceptick Wisdom too,
Which, since All's doubtful, nought pretends to know:
Caution in Courts, in Bus'ness Policy;
Prudence in Youth, in Age 'tis Gravity;
Submission in th' Ambitious, and the Great;
In Office, awful Majesty and State;
'Tis Valour in th' unthinking, rash, and brave;
Staid Circumspection in the Wise and Grave;
In Blockheads, when they want a wise Reply,
Consid'rate, prudent Taciturnity;
In mighty Generals 'tis call'd Cunctation;
In dumb and heavy Lovers, Height of Passion;
The Face of Honesty in Courtiers wears;
In frigid Virgins Modesty appears;
It sets off Sense, and Folly does excuse,
So proves to Sense, or Folly, of most Use.