The Art Of Speaking Poem by William Hutton

Whatever shall rise in a subject debated,
Deliver yourself in a stile elevated.
A Priest lost himself, by my tale it appears;
A lad lost his fee; and a horse lost his ears.

Where nature plain speech to the tongue shall deny,
A language is well understood by the eye;
If you through the race of dumb animals seek,
Truer meanings you'll find than in us who can speak.
The birds of the air understand one another;
Dog comprehends dog; and a monkey his brother:
If your cat is in want, is ill-humour'd, or pleas'd,
Another cat knows, whether well or diseas'd;
Nay, this observation will farther arise,
Their eyes tell the truth, but our tongues can tell lies.
Can it answer the motive a person intended,
To speak in a stile which is not comprehended?

Of Lingo, the parson, my Muse shall tell truth;
And join in the tale Curry Whisp, a poor youth.
The last was a lad Fortune rais'd to enjoy
The eminent station of hostler's boy,
At Grantham's chief inn, on the stables to wait,
Where Lingo and horse enter'd in for a bait,
As a ruler of slaves in authority figur'd;
Like a nabob commanded, but paid like a niggard.

But inform us what great obligation appears
To excite in the traveller these haughty airs.
A servile behaviour the landlord debases,
While his guest, like a tyrant, insults him with graces.
Perhaps we can bring this affair to a sequel,
And say obligations on both sides are equal;
For if any gentleman offers to flout him,
Then pray tell me how he can travel without him;
Why just, should he offer to lock up his doors,
As the sailor can move on without sail or oars.

The Priest, having baited, without more demur,
Went into the yard, and cried, 'Hostler!'--'Sir!'

'When a period my palfrey has put (which you'll see)
To his provender--then you'll produce him to me.'

The boy look'd astonish'd, but made no reply--
Then turning to two men who chanc'd to stand by,
And scratching his hair near as smooth as his hay,
Stepp'd forward--'Pray what did the Gentleman say?'

'An Hostler not know! Why, he spoke rather cross.
Every word that he said was concerning his horse.
You ignorant blockhead! this plain sense appears--
When he's ate up his corn you must cut off his ears.'

'Fow Wot?' says the lad, mouth and eyes open full;
'Because, after eating, he's apt to be dull.
To this operation an hostler is willing,
Because his demand, as a fee, is a shilling.'

Now the will, fist, and knife, are employ'd by the donors,
To rob Ros'nante of his highest honours.
Tied down to the manger, and urg'd by vexation,
Shook his head, indicative of disapprobation.
Then who is secure of his goods or his life,
When Ignorance holds the sword, scissars, or knife?

The Priest was enrag'd when he found out the evil,
And swore he would send the poor lad to the devil;
But the promise he broke, as was afterwards found,
Because, it appears, Curry Whisp kept his ground.

Now Whisp, as the group in a small circle stand--
He fing'ring two thirds of a hat in his hand--
'Sir, as your dark speeches the company ravel,
You ne'er should without an interpreter travel.'