Ranolf and Amohia
VII
VII.
"Well—posed with that result of logic-fence,
Our student tried the school of Common Sense.
But soon the irreverent youth came bouncing thence:
"What," cried he," is it not a false pretence
That makes of Metaphysics but a name,
And theirs to Science a preposterous claim
"Who dare their doughty reasoning begin
By begging—nay, with beggars' impudence
Demanding the one point at issue here;
The only one that Logic seemed to hurt—
Dare for superior density assert
The victory their acuteness could not win?
O Reid and Brown, my crafty friends! 'tis clear
You found when sorely gravelled by this Hume
'Twas harder far to prove than to assume;
An easier feat for souls of sluggish pace
To seize the palm-wreath than to run the race:
Boldly to claim the stakes—while beaten they
Throw up the game their business 'tis to play!"