Say! was it parts (tho' Walpole ne'er had more)
That held up North amidst a factious roar!
With cautious eye the steady helm he guides,
And o'er the sea of state triumphant rides.
Firm, as the solid rock, that nobly braves
The raving fury of the lashing waves,
He stands—and mocks, un-conscious of a shame,
The voice of Clamour, and the lies of Fame.
But did th' exertion of his parts alone
Give, or deserve the favour of the throne!
Tho' blest with Goodness both of Heart and Head,
That goodness had remain'd inert and dead,
His well-earn'd consequence would ne'er maintain,
Were he not Haslang'd in the Graces train.
But now to more familiar rules I fall,
And beg you'll practise and observe 'em all.
When at the Play, be all alike serene,
Or at the tragic, or the comic scene.
Let Humour (Garrick standing by her side)
With laughter loud plebeian mouths divide,
Whose ha! ha! ha's! the tender ear annoy.
Do thou disdain the coarse, unmeaning joy;[4]
Nor ope your lips, but purely to disclose
How white your teeth, how accurate the rows.
When Tragedy puts on her sable stole,
Whose very looks convey her very soul;
Whose words a murderer's repose defeat,
And make a Nabob shudder in his seat;
Whose plaintive tones can melt the worthy breast,
That ever melts, when Merit is distrest;
Who calls forth tears, of tears a copious store
From sullen eyes, that never wept before;
Tears that do honour to the human heart,
And such as Barry can at will impart;
When such the sympathy (tho' ne'er so strong)
Ah! catch not thou th' effusion of the throng;
For if they see you shed one real tear,
The very men who shift the scenes will sneer.
Now list attentive! list! whilst I unfold
A secret, that in verse has ne'er been told.
All think they know it, but 'tis known to few,
That is, how best to buckle on your shoe;
Tho' strong their judgment, and their fancy bright,
Ten do it wrong for one, who does it right.
On this side some, and some on that display
This useful ornament in awkward way.
But wiser thou! observe nor that, nor this,
Say what men will, both methods are amiss;
The medium of the foot denotes the place,
Its proper fixture for external grace[5].
With all his open manliness of mind,
Where solid sense, and sterling wit are join'd,
In life poor Classic never could advance,
The reason's plain—poor Classic could not dance.
How long in vain did learned Johnson toil!
And waste in busy thought the midnight oil:
Whose page the Critics ever must revere,
As long as genius is reputed dear,
Whose heart exults, or swells with honest rage,
As Vice, or Virtue marks the rising age;
Whose nervous writings shook the trump of Fame,
Yet left him nothing but a deathless name.
But when the features of each grace he wore,
And look'd as Johnson never look'd before,
Then came the meed, that honourable gain,
Which sheds such lustre over George's Reign,
That meed, which no good man can wish remov'd,
Hinted by Bute, by Majesty approv'd.
Adieu! and let the Graces be your text,[6]
But I'll be more explicit in my next:
There will I teach thee, with a sire's concern,
All that is proper for a son to learn:
In pleasing segments how to pare your nails,[7]
Segments must please, as long as taste prevails.
The conduct of your breeches there make known,
How best to pull 'em up, and let 'em down.
Teach thee to handle with peculiar grace,
The snuff-box, toothpick, and the toothpick-case,
And how to cut and eat a currant tart,
Nor let your napkin, or your chin have part.
Once more, my Child! adieu! Remember me,
And ne'er, O ne'er forget the Graces Three!
Hug 'em as close, as, when he goes to rest,
Hill hugs his graceful Order to his breast.
F I N I S.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The graceful manner of speaking is particularly what I shall always hollow in your ear, as Hotspur hollow'd Mortimer to Henry the fourth, and like him, I have aimed to have a Starling taught to say, "Speak distinctly and gracefully," and send him you to replace your loss of the unfortunate Matzell, who by the way, I am told, spoke his language distinctly and gracefully.
Lord Chesterfield's Letter to his Son, page 305. 4to. edit. 1st. Vol.