The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Burlesques of Lord Chesterfield's Letters, by (authors unknown).

William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
University of California
Los Angeles
1960

GENERAL EDITORS

Richard C. Boys, University of Michigan
Ralph Cohen, University of California, Los Angeles
Vinton A. Dearing, University of California, Los Angeles
Lawrence Clark Powell, Clark Memorial Library

ASSISTANT EDITOR

ADVISORY EDITORS

Emmett L. Avery, State College of Washington
Benjamin Boyce, Duke University
Louis Bredvold, University of Michigan
John Butt, King's College, University of Durham
James L. Clifford, Columbia University
Arthur Friedman, University of Chicago
Louis A. Landa, Princeton University
Samuel H. Monk, University of Minnesota
Ernest C. Mossner, University of Texas
James Sutherland, University College, London
H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., University of California, Los Angeles

CORRESPONDING SECRETARY

INTRODUCTION

Even though the disasters which overtook John Stubbs and William Prynne in the days of Elizabeth and Charles I no longer faced the pamphleteer, the eighteenth century saw many an anonymous publication, for while hands and ears were less in jeopardy, author and publisher might well suffer imprisonment, as William Cooley and the printer of the Daily Post learned in the winter of 1740-41, and John Wilkes in the 1760's. One can understand why, despite the absence of personal danger, a public figure like Lord Chesterfield should yet conceal his connection with a piece on the Hanoverian troops, or why Horace Walpole might often not put his name to an item listed in his Short Notes of his life or young Boswell to his communications to the press. Indeed, many an innocuous writing appeared anonymously, for the bashful author, protected against the miseries of conspicuous failure, could always shyly acknowledge a successful production. Later, perchance, it could appear in his collected works.

The two pieces here reprinted, typical verse pamphlets of the 1770's, illustrate both a type of writing and an age. The subject of both is contemporary—the best-selling Letters to his Son of Lord Chesterfield. The method falls between burlesque and caricature; the aim is amusement; the substance is negligible. Neither poem made more than a ripple on publication, neither initiated a critical fashion, and neither survived in its own right, yet each has merit enough to justify inclusion today in such a series as the Augustan reprints.

Chesterfield's Letters to his Son, the subject of these two burlesques, were announced as published on April 7, 1774, scarcely a year after his death; that they became an immediate best seller, every schoolboy knows. Reaction to the letters took several modes of expression. These included comments in conversation by Dr. Johnson and by George III, as reported by Boswell and by Fanny Burney; in letters, from Walpole, Mrs. Delaney, Voltaire, and Mrs. Montagu; and in diaries, such as those of Fanny Burney and John Wesley. Reviewers sprang to words if not into action. Entire books came to the defence of morality. A sermon announced "The Unalterable Nature of Vice and Virtue" (a second edition placed Virtue before Vice); the Monthly Review for[Pg ii] December 1775 praised it: "This sensible and well written discourse is chiefly directed against the letters of the late Lord Chesterfield, though his Lordship is not mentioned." All of these approached the subject directly. Indirect reactions included an ironic Apology for Mrs. Stanhope (the son's widow, who had sold the letters to James Dodsley the publisher for £1575 and was represented as the editor), two novels showing the pernicious effects of the Chesterfieldean "system"—The Pupil of Pleasure, by Courtney Melmoth (Samuel Jackson Pratt), and The Two Mentors, by Clara Reeve—and a parody by Horace Walpole of the first three letters (published years later in his Works). The Westminster Magazine carried a "Petition of the Women of Pleasure" and the London Chronicle a farcical skit on Lord Chesterfield's refined manners.[1] In a play called The Cozeners, Samuel Foote took advantage of current interest in Chesterfield to ridicule the graces. Not the least interesting examples of the indirect reaction to the Letters are the two verse caricatures or burlesques here reprinted.

The earlier of the two poems, The Graces, bears the date 1774 on the title page. A second edition of 1775 at first glance appears to be a reissue with new title page, but minor changes and the straightedge test are evidence of resetting. The authorship was soon known: The London Chronicle for February 16-18, quoting 88 lines of the total 170 and working from the first edition, mentioned that the piece was written by Mr. Woty, but so far as bibliography was concerned this attribution remained hidden until recently, for Woty's obituary in the Gentleman's Magazine for March 1791 omitted mention of The Graces, as did the DNB and its additional sources, John Nichols' Leicestershire and David Erskine Baker's Biographia Dramatica (1812 ed.).[2] That Woty did indeed write The Graces one may assume from his including it in 1780, with minor changes, in Poems on Several Occasions. He too used the first edition.

Of William Woty's life little need be said; the DNB, relying essentially on the Gentleman's Magazine, gives the salient events: after preparing to enter the law, he became companion and a kind of legal secretary to Washington, Earl Ferrers, who prior to his death in 1778 made Woty independent by establishing an annuity of £150 for him. His first book of verse was The Sporting Club, 1758; the next, The Shrubs of Parnassus, by "James Copywell,"[Pg iii] he published in 1760. Two others, which he acknowledged, followed in the next three years; then in 1763 he joined Francis Fawkes in editing The Poetical Calendar, in 12 volumes, to which Samuel Johnson contributed a character sketch of William Collins (Boswell's Life, ed. Hill-Powell, I, 382). In 1770, Woty issued a two-volume Poetical Works. The Gentleman's Magazine, mentioning four other publications from 1770 to 1775, adds, "and some other miscellaneous pieces since that time." These, possibly unnamed because published outside of London, included Poems on Several Occasions, Derby, 1780 (in which, as noted above, he reprinted The Graces), Fugitive and Original Poems, Derby, 1786, and Poetical Amusements, Nottingham, 1789. "Mr. W. was a true bon vivant," the notice continues, "but by a too great indulgence of his passion for conviviality and society he unfortunately injured his constitution." He died in March 1791, "aged about 60."

Woty seems to have been on the periphery of Samuel Johnson's list of acquaintances. Under what circumstances Johnson agreed to write the sketch of Collins for the Poetical Calendar, Boswell does not specify—whether for Woty or for Fawkes or for J. Coote, the publisher—but write it he did. The index to the Hill-Powell Boswell lists Woty (and Fawkes) only in this connection, but someone had sufficient interest with the lexicographer to induce him to subscribe to Woty's anonymous Shrubs of Parnassus, 1760; the subscription list of some 500 names includes not only Samuel Johnson, A.M., but David Garrick, Mr. William Mason, Dr. Smollett, Mr. Strahan, and Mr. Newbery, of St. Paul's Church Yard, who bought 6 books—not unnaturally, for he was the publisher. A decade later, the subscribers to The Poetical Works of William Woty included James Boswell, Esq., George Colman, Esq., Mr. Garrick, Dr. Johnson, and this time for but one set, Mr. Newbery. After still another decade, when Woty published in Derby his Poems on Several Occasions, the list of subscribers included none of these names, even though this collection included The Graces, with its dozen lines on Samuel Johnson (now omitting from page 11 the couplet on Bute) which reveal no degree of intimacy, but do show respect and admiration for him.

The Fine Gentleman's Etiquette; or, Lord Chesterfield's Advice to his Son, versified, By a Lady, is both longer and later than The Graces; unlike that poem, it remains anonymous. The[Pg iv] lady versifier, though somewhat repetitious in her matter (her defence would of course be that she followed her source), cannot be accused of incompetence in her prosody. Of the 366 lines, she has precious few which scan roughly or rhyme inaccurately; those few come within legitimate poetic license—on the whole, a slightly smoother versification than in Goldsmith's then popular "Retaliation," dashed off in response to a jest at The Club but not published until shortly after his death in 1774. Alike in verse form, the two poems differ significantly in ideas and style; there the discrepancy justifies the different fates of the two. In the poem here reprinted, the only passage deserving individual comment is the anecdote of Philip and the blanc mange (see pages 13 and 14). Lord Charlemont, in the course of answering a query from Lord Bruce about young Stanhope's character, recounts the incident, having had it from an eyewitness: the food was baked gooseberries and whipped cream, and the Earl's comment, "John, why do you not fetch the strop and the razors? you see your master is going to shave himself" (Charlemont MSS., I, 327-328).

The reviewers did little for The Fine Gentleman's Etiquette; most ignored the pamphlet. The Monthly Miscellany for June 1776 provided a few kindly lines: "This didactic rhapsody, the precepts contained in which are founded upon passages referred to in his Lordship's letters, is written in hendecasyllable measure, and is not destitute of humour." The Monthly Review for the same month had less to say: "We should be miserably deficient in the fine Gentleman's Etiquette, were we to criticise a lady for employing her time as she pleases."

In one sense, both burlesquers hit the weak spot in Chesterfield's Letters. Since his purpose is to entertain through exaggeration, a parodist is not required to be fair or to distinguish between an editor without judgment and the writer of intimate letters; so long as something can be made ludicrous, 'twill suffice. Yet essentially the burlesquers and many a critic then and since have missed what Chesterfield was writing in his letters and living in his long life. Blinded by the trivia inevitable in hundreds of letters carrying anxious parental advice, the critics have too often ignored or misinterpreted Chesterfield's passion for helping. He lavished countless hours, during the busiest part of his life, writing to his son in an effort to round out his education where it was[Pg v] distressingly deficient—not in strengthening it where it was strong. The pattern of trying to help is repeated: Chesterfield did his level best with his godson; he gave what was seemly to his young friend Huntingdon and likewise to Solomon Dayrolles. Five unpublished letters at Yale, to a Mr. Clements of Dublin, repeat the formula on a minor scale, the fifty-five-year-old earl laying out a plan of education for the family hopeful. Chesterfield's interest to do good shows at its best in his too little known letter to the Duke of Bedford condemning the brutal treatment of French prisoners (Dobree, VI, 2960). These all reveal something more praiseworthy in the man than the common interpretation of him.

Refreshing, sophisticatedly unsophisticated, yet genuinely revealing of Lord Chesterfield's character, are a half dozen unknown couplets which almost summarize his philosophy of manners. Since his sense of humor can be questioned only by those themselves blind and deaf to humor, his dislike here for laughter should be taken for what he intends—disgust at vacuous guffaws. The society he praises has fun without attendant headaches or regrets. Surely, one could do worse than to be, with him, "innocently gay." The verses appeared in the London Chronicle for May 28-30, 1776; an autograph copy, said to be dated 1761 and forming part of the Alfred Morrison collection, was sold at auction in 1918.[3]

Let social mirth with gentle manners join,
Unstunned by laughter—uninflamed by wine;
Let Reason unimpaired exert its powers,
But let gay Fancy strew its way with flowers.
Far hence the Wag's and Witling's scurril jest,
Whose noise and nonsense shock the decent guest;
True Wit and Humour such low helps decline,
Nor will the Graces owe their charms to wine.
Fools fly to drink (in native dullness sunk)
In vain; they're ten times greater fools when drunk.—
Thus, free from riot, innocently gay,
We'll neither wish, nor fear our final day.

NOTES

Except for the title page of The Fine Gentleman's Etiquette, which comes from the University of North Carolina.

[1] See my Chesterfield Bibliography to 1800, Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America, XXIX (1935), 68-70 and 82-89.

[2] Mr. Cecil Price, of Aberystwyth University, called the London Chronicle item to my attention several years ago, pointing out that Professor James L. Clifford had identified this reference at note 160 in his edition of Dr. Campbell's Diary (Cambridge, 1947). The CBEL lists The Graces as by Woty, but without stating its authority.

[3] The sale catalogue authenticates the poem here given by printing a short passage from it (page 238, lot 1405; sold by Messrs. Sotheby, Wilkinson, & Hodge; 18 April 1918).

NOTES TO THE GRACES

Full annotation is not intended, but identification of a few allusions in this poem may be helpful.

p. 4 Sir Fletcher Norton (1716-89), currently Speaker of the House of Commons.

Edward Thurlow (1731-1806), recently notable for successfully opposing perpetual copyright.

John Dunning (1731-83), lawyer and member of Parliament, Mrs. Eugenia Stanhope's legal counsel when Chesterfield's executors wished to stop publication of the letters. See my article, "The Publication of Chesterfield's Letters to his Son," PMLA, LI (March 1936), 171.

p. 5 William Blackstone (1723-80), already a judge and the author of the famous Commentaries.

Schomberg (probably Isaac, 1714-80, rather than his twin brother Raphael, 1714-92), Sir John Pringle (1707-82), and William Bromfield (1712-92) were physicians, respectively, to Garrick, King George III, and his Queen.

p. 6 The current Bishop of Peterborough was Dr. John Hinchliffe (1731-94).

Hans Stanley (1720?-80), M.P., political and diplomatic figure.

[Pg vii]Great Tallboy—apparently Charles Talbot, twelfth Earl and only Duke of Shrewsbury (1660-1718), "A man of great personal attractions, ... called by Swift 'the favourite of the nation'" (Concise DNB).

Haslang—Joseph Xaver (ca 1700-83), Freiherr (later Graf) von Haszlang, Bavarian minister to England 1741-83 (Yale Walpole, IX, 185, n. 25).

p. 9 Spranger Barry (1719-77), famous tragic actor, or possibly his wife, Ann Spranger Barry (1734-1801).

p. 12 John Hill (1716?-75), prolific compiler of works on varied subjects; about a year previously he had been made knight of the Swedish order of Vasa.

THE

G R A C E S:

POETICAL EPISTLE

[Price One Shilling.]

THE

G R A C E S:

POETICAL EPISTLE.

FROM A

GENTLEMAN TO HIS SON.

T H E G R A C E S:

POETICAL EPISTLE.

Pride of my youth, and Comfort of my age!
To thee I consecrate this useful page.
Vers'd in the nicest arts of human kind,
To thee thy Parent pours forth all his mind;
And be it thine to treasure in thy heart
The grand arcana, which I now impart.

As Health derives its most important charge,
More from the smaller vessels than the large,[Pg 2]
On small events so man's success depends,
By these alone he gains the greatest ends;
And as he keeps this maxim, or forsakes,
A Trifle marrs him, or a Trifle makes.

Court then the Graces, court! as I have done;
This rule adopt, or quit the name of Son.
This I will hollow constant in thy ear,
As loud as Hotspur hollow'd Mortimer:
I would not keep a cat, or feed a bird,
That pip'd ungraceful, or ungraceful purr'd [1].

Let strict Attention all your acts direct,
It wins Applause, as it denotes Respect.[Pg 3]
Observe it in the most minute degree,
As well when out of, as in company.
Observe it even in the Shrine of Ease,
An error there the Goddess may displease.
Learn what materials will your purpose fit,
And next enquire the Quantum sufficit;
That quantum then in even folds dispose,
And wipe as cleanly, as you'd wipe your Nose.
In ev'ry circumstance, in ev'ry place,
The ease of Nature asks the ease of Grace.
What pity 'tis! a Gentleman can't send
This vulgar deed his Proxy to attend.
'Tis quite beneath the dignity of man,
So prithee, Child! avoid it—if you can;
But if it prove an irksome, windy war,
And nought, but vent, can terminate the jar;
Distinct and graceful, let th' explosion sound,
And fill with Harmony the sweet profound.[Pg 4]

Think not that Merit of itself can raise
Promotion's ladder, or the step of Praise [2].
How came Sir Fletcher in the Speaker's Chair!
Did Merit, or the Graces place him there.
Without the Graces what would Thurloe be!
Thurloe the Sage—a brief without a fee;
If more polite, perhaps he might be Chief,
And then he'd have the Fee without the Brief.
Say! was it Merit, like a blazing Star,
That first distinguish'd Dunning at the Bar!
By Grace, and Attitude, the Prize he won,
For he and Grace, and Grace and he are one;
And whilst his rapid energy alarms,
The Lawyer strikes us—but th' Adonis charms.

To Justice Blackstone now direct your eyes,[Pg 5]
With him in parts what other Justice vies!
'Twas his to comment, his to analyze,
And draw the cobweb-curtain from our eyes;
Each legal winding nicely to explore,
And give to Rufus one sound Lawyer more.
But what of that! he might have still retail'd
Inglorious Fees, had not his form prevail'd;
His gracious form, by Nature fram'd to please,
Which robs Antinous of half his ease.

To Physic now—that claims the second place.
Schomberg has Skill, but Pringle has the Grace;
And yet—but how I know not—I protest,
That Schomberg's universally carest;
Hated perhaps—for taking Nature's part—
By none, but the Professors of the Art.

Tho' Bromfield operates as quick as thought,
His Fame and Judgment would be set at nought[Pg 6]
Did not the sweetness of his soft Address,
That graceful mode he carves with, more or less,
Conduce to save his happy patient's life,
And make him look with pleasure at his knife.

Thus with Divines. The multitude caress
The Preacher of the most expert Address.
'Tis not the doctrine that the crowd revere,
They go to please the eye, and not the ear;
Hundreds, in spite of those who truly teach,
To ——[3] flock, tho' Peterborough preach.

Think you (and this to Chatham I submit)
That parts superior rais'd the name of Pitt!
No—'twas that elegant, Hans Stanley Ease,
That manner soft, which could not fail to please;
That magic something, which yet wants a name,
And hands Great Tallboy to immortal fame.

Say! was it parts (tho' Walpole ne'er had more)[Pg 7]
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.[Pg 8]
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;[Pg 9]
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;[Pg 10]
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.[Pg 11]
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.[Pg 12]
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.

[2] I must repeat it to you over and over again, that with all the knowledge which you may have at present, or hereafter acquire, and with all the merit that ever man had, if you have not a graceful address, &c. you will be nobody. Page 500, 1st. Vol.

[3] The reader is desired to fill up this blank to his own mind.

[4] You may often be seen to smile, but never heard to laugh, while you live. Frequent and loud laughter is the characteristic of folly and ill-manners. It is the manner in which the mob express their silly joy at silly things. In my mind there is nothing so illiberal and so ill-bred as audible laughter. Page 268.

[5] I am very glad you have received the diamond buckles safe. All I desire in return for them is, that they may be buckled even upon your foot, and that your stockings may not hide them.

[6] The Graces, the Graces, remember the Graces. Page 390.

[7] The ends of your nails should be small segments of circles, &c. every time that you wipe your hands, rub the skin round your nails backwards, that it may not grow up and shorten your nails too much. Vol. II. page 60.

THE

Fine Gentleman's Etiquette;

LORD CHESTERFIELD's

ADVICE TO

HIS SON,

VERSIFIED.

(a) "Sufficiently master of Latin and Greek,"
You now, with the Graces, acquaintance must seek,
On Ida, we're told, the fair Goddesses dwell,
Invoke them by strong incantation, and spell,
Your incense once paid, on their candour rely,[Pg 6]
"(b)With ardour pursu'd, they of course will comply;
"(c)So well know the poets their use my good friend,
"They make 'em, all three, upon Venus attend;
"And surely, if Venus, attractions cou'd need,
"Minerva, ungrac'd, cannot hope to succeed;"
Courage! mon garcon, throw the pedant aside,
And 'stead of friend [1]Harte, adopt me for your guide,
In courts, at ruells, you can ne'er hope to shine,
Unless with the virtues, the Graces combine:

I beg you'll acquire, or we ne'er shall agree,
The air, the tournure, de la bonne compagnie,
"(d) This soon among people of fash'on you'll catch,
"If careful you are, their behav'our to watch;
"Observe their address, and pray likewise contrive,
"Deep into the springs of their actions, to dive:
"'Bove all things, have art to discover each failing,
"Their merit particular, weakness prevailing;
"This accomplish'd, advantage you'll infinite reap,[Pg 7]
"And may safe of their heads, and their hearts, take a peep."
Form friendships, but let it be only with those
On whose fond credulity you may impose;
Their confidence gain'd, unsuspected you'll soon,
Discover their secrets, and make them your own;
'Tis of honor no breach, to betray thus a friend,
If you find, to your int'rest, 'twill visibly tend:
These maxims, thro' life, I wou'd have you pursue,
I practis'd them once, and now hand them to you;
Successful they were, they brought honors and fame,
For still I had art to preserve my good name;
"(e) 'Twere wrong to suppose, what the polish'd world say;
"That in manners, and carr'age, you're horrid outré;"
"Your air [2]Pollissôn, and the taste of your cloaths,
"Makes you pass for a Bourgeois that nobody knows;
"In short, that you want, since the truth I must own,
"[3]Tous ces petits riens qui donnent le bon ton."
"(f) I happen'd, by chance, to step in tother day,[Pg 8]
"To a print-shop, that luckily, stood in my way,
"Where a print, for your use, I took pains to select,
"And hope to my taste, you will pay due respect;
"'Tis of drawing the school, from a famous design
"Of Carlo Marratti, who stood first in the line
"Of eminent painters, in Europe that drew,"
Admir'd, by all lovers of taste, and Virtu:
"In the grey-headed sage the great master you see,
"His scholars he points to, in this you'll agree.
"Their several studies, on which he must speak,
"Are Perspective, Geometry, and statues antique:"
Of each, you a specimen fair will behold.—
But matters, so obvious, you scarce need be told.

"On the two former subjects, be pleas'd to observe,
"That quantum sufficit, of either, will serve;
"With regard to the latter, he clearly hath shewn,
"That never enough on that head can be known:"
But now to my favourite, much admir'd theme,[Pg 9]
For which, I the Artist, immortal esteem
To you, with instruction divine it is fraught,
Not Apelles could more have excell'd in the thought.
"At top of the piece, in the clouds you will see,
"With dignity seated, the Graces All Three;
"And over them written this sentence quite plain,—
"Without us, depend on't, all labour is vain."

"Thus much for description, the print I shall send,
"With all possible speed by the hands of a friend,"
"And beg, adoration you will to it pay,
"Such as Catholics use to their saints when they pray:
"An ear, to my precepts, I hope you will lend,
"(g) Nor think, that those Graces, so oft' I commend,
"Must only [4]les jours de grand Gala be worn,
"Since each word, and action, they're meant to adorn."

"Your coffee to see you ungracefully sip,"
I know, beyond measure, would give me the hyp,
"If, by holding it aukward, your cloaths you should slop,"[Pg 10]
In a fit, off my chair, I shou'd suddenly drop;
Nor less shou'd I feel, were I destin'd to view,
"A button'd up coat, or a wry buckled shoe:
"Good God! how excessively shocking my doom,
"If when I first see you come into my room;
"(h) Two aukward left legs, and a taylor-like air,
"My sight shou'd accost,"—by the Graces I swear,
All ties of affinity I shou'd disclaim,
And deem you, henceforth, a disgrace to my name.

"Your dress to correct, and your carriage to mend,
"Let le Tailleur, and what's more [5]Marcel stand your friend;
"Marcel, I'm persuaded, will soon teach you how,
"To turn out your toes, and to make a good bow;
"Nor do I despair, but he'll fashon outright,
"Your arms too, and legs, which are both in sad plight:
"Attend on his lessons, with diligent care,
"Of him you'll acquire, tous les Graces, les manieres;"
More useful, than classical knowledge, this art[Pg 11]
"To deceive, we must first gain access to the heart;
"(i) The heart once engag'd," mind your mood, and your tense,
"And I'll venture my life you impose on the sense;
"This doctrine is orthodox, practis'd by me,
"—Address, is with Statesmen, the true master-key.
"(j) I greatly am chagrin'd, to find that you still
"Are absent, distrait, and present yourself ill,"
"That napkin, and bread, your knife, fork, and spoon,
"Where ever you dine, are thrown constantly down;"
To the infinite terror, I'm sorry to say,
Of the company's legs, that within their reach lay:
"Your dress and your person, you likewise neglect,"
A proof that my counsel you mean to reject;
From which I infer, that you ne'er will acquire,
"That tournure, those Graces," I so much admire:
"With the dead, I a thousand times better am pleas'd,
"Than a man who with fits of distraction is seiz'd;
"For tho' the defunct, no amusement can give,
"From him I no mark of contempt shall receive;
"So absent you seem, I am led to surmize,[Pg 12]
"You seldom make use of your ears or your eyes;
"It therefore seems highly expedient to me,
"A flapper shou'd rouze you from this reverie;"
"But mark, on the subject, a word entres nous—
"For this new domestic I pay not a sous:
"That office, friend [6]Christian, must gratis discharge,"
Nor suffer you, solus, to wander at large,
Least strangers, that seldom their censure restrain,
Viva voce, shou'd deem you—a person insane:
"The use of those flappers, in Swift you may read,
"Of them the Laputans, your allies, stood in need;
"Whose minds, like to yours, by intense speculations,
"Were too much ingross'd to have useful sensations;
"And but for those flappers, I think there's no doubt
"Their brains 'gainst the posts, they had fairly beat out;"
The sum of my doctrine is [7]point des grimaces
Et point de distraction, mais souvenir les graces.
"(k) If you, at my table, shou'd meet Mr. L.[Pg 13]
"A fatal catastrophy I can foretell,"
"Your heads, 'gainst each other, you'll merciless hit,
"And you'll haggle your fingers, instead of the meat;
"'Tis probable too," this deponent here saith,
"You both, may in winter, be scalded to death,
"By th'hasty infusion of soup boiling hot;"—
But more, on this head, this deponent says not.

I oft' from my memory seek to erase
An hour, unto you, big with shame and disgrace;
But vain the attempt, it will uppermost be,
Good heav'n forefend! I the like shou'd e'er see:
For certain it is, as I now am alive,
Another such shock I cou'd never survive:
[8]The fact I allude to you'll easily guess,
'Twas when with some friends of esteem'd politesse,
With me you once din'd, to my grief be it said,
And no little hole in your manners then made:
Blanche mange, which you doat on, was part of our fare,[Pg 14]
Abhorr'd! be the minute, when first it came there.—
Henceforth, for your sake, I Blanche mange shall detest,
'Tho of colour the whitest, and flavour the best;
For when, you close siege, to a pyramid laid,
No respect was to persons, or decency paid:
You not only ate, 'till you cou'd eat no more,
But with it, disfigur'd your visage all o'er:
Your portrait was that, if a likeness you'd have,
Of a man ready lather'd, just going to shave:
Transported with rage, I cou'd scarce keep my seat,
And words, only found, to advise a retreat;
And order your servant to wash your face clean,
Since so dirty a spectacle never was seen:
Where then were the Graces?—that hour sound they slept,
Or else on mount Ida a jubilee kept.

To acquire the bon ton, and excel in address,
Are points upon which I must ever lay stress;
So useful they are, of importance so great,
You'll find 'em, through life, so essential a bait;
That without them as soon may you hope to succeed,[Pg 15]
As a man teach the Classicks that never could read:
My counsel is sterling, pray bear it in mind,
A Statesman I was, and belov'd by mankind;
In pleasure, or bus'ness, les grace, les manieres,
Ensure one success, with the grave, or the fair.

"Your manners to polish, and time to amuse,
"I hope you have chosen a good [9]décrotteuse;
"(l) While aukward and gauche, which at present I fear"
You must not, the hem of my garment come near;
"Great merit esteem will procure it is true,
"But merit alone, be assur'd will not do.
"(m) Your riding and dancing I hope will conduce
"To fash'on your limbs, and to teach them their use;"
I'd have you describ'd, by your air degagée,
In order to which, il vous faut dégourdis,[10]
Of women, you best, les agrément will learn,
But be sure, in your choice, that you rightly discern,
'Twixt the dissolute fair, that wou'd ruin your fame,[Pg 16]
And her, that real lustre will add to your name:
My joy were compleat, could I hear the world say,
Ah! comme il est galant ce petit Anglois!

"(n) At Paris arriv'd, you must take 'special care,
"To dress as the people of fash'on do there;
"This does not in finery so much consist,
"As the manner of wearing your cloaths, and the taste.
"Employ the best taylor the place will afford,
"Since much will depend on your premier abord,
[11]Comme un homme du grand monde il vous faut habillé
[12]Toûjours à la mode, et bien proprement mis:
"Pray find a good frisieur to do your hair well,
"Since that of your dress, is a part material:
"(o) Apropos, of your legs,—garter well up your hose,
"Lest careless they hang o'er the tops of your shoes;
"For nought gives a man a more slovenly air,[Pg 17]
"Than aukward dress'd legs, and a rough head of hair
"(p) Be powder'd, be feather'd, be lac'd I entreat,"
From the crown of your head, to the soles of your feet;
They must not of fashion, an atom neglect,
That hope, from the women, to challenge respect;
"Whose suffrage to gain, I must beg you'll aspire,
"Since only of them you can lustre acquire."

"(q) My diamond buckles I fully propose,
"Your feet shall adorn, mine they now wou'd expose;"
"Of all things in nature I mostly abhor,"
A Beau, on the verge, of years fifty and four:
Accept them, I beg, with injunction severe,
"(r) To buckle them straight," since to me 'tis not clear,
But one on the outside your foot may be plac'd,
And one on the in, as a proof of your taste;
If this, of a certainty, I cou'd but know,
Without shoes, or buckles, for me you should go.

"(s) Of swords, canes, and snuff boxes, might I advise,[Pg 18]
"If elegant, one may of each well suffice:"
There are, who will lavish, on baubles like these,
A sum wou'd procure independence and ease:
Such Beings, alas! not a shilling would lend,
To save from despair, a poor indigent friend:
Oh! shut not your ear, 'gainst the cry of distress,
May the sense of their woes, prove their means of redress:
Tho' chance, in your favour, some difference has made,
No distinction to rank, will hereafter be paid:
Sufficient that thought, human pride to subdue,
Pray let it not pass unregarded by you.

"(t) [13]Comment vont les Graces, prithee how do they fare,
"Of them have you studied [14]le grand art de plaire?
"If you, in the beau monde, success would ensure,
"(u) In your manners attend to a certain douceur:
"The French, this douceur, do most highly esteem,[Pg 19]
"'Tis in short [15]l'aimable, le tout chose with them;
Acquire it, dear Phil, or I fair warning give,—
I ne'er wish to see you as long as you live.

"(v) In your person be cleanly, I humbly intreat,
"And attend to your teeth, that your breath may be sweet,
"Your nails too keep par'd, I outrageous should be,
"If them, tipt with black, I should happen to see.
"By you, may these hints, not improper be held,
"(w) Since once, 'bove your fellows, in dirt you excell'd;
"And oft', when a lad, have you suffer'd disgrace,
"For neglecting to wash both your hands, and your face:"
'Tho trifling these matters, to you, may appear,
With me, they weigh more than the gold of Ophir;
Since a dunce well accomplish'd more merit can boast,
Than a book-worm that smells of the deep college rust.
A father, I am, to your faults nothing blind,
And claim a free licence for speaking my mind;
"By this lecture on cleanliness, all I propose is,[Pg 20]
"(x) That you may not offend peoples eyes, or their noses."

"(y) A bill I receiv'd, but the truth to confess,
"It puzzl'd me much at the drawer to guess;
"No advice you had given of such an intent,
"From which I suspected, a fraud might be meant;
"Since always in matters of business, like these,
"'Tis usual the party in time to apprize:
"And what more confirmed these suspicions, my friend,
"It did not appear to have ever been sign'd:
"The person that brought it, desir'd me to look,
"Again at the bottom, where what I mistook
"For somebody's mark, by the help of a glass,
"Your name really prov'd,—to my sorrow, alas!
"Since wrote in a hand, both the worst, and the least,
"In my life I beheld, it must needs be confess'd:
"And rather, by far, I'd have lost the whole sum,
"Than such a vile scrawl from your hand should have come.

(z) In spelling, my son, I shall give you your due,[Pg 21]
For so great a proficient on yearth I ne'er knew;
"Enduce, for induce, you now actually spell,
"For grandeur, grandure, which to you sounds as well;
"Two capital blunders, I beg you will note,
"Since few of my house-maids such stuff wou'd have wrote:"
To give my ideas at once their full scope,
Your progress in nonsense, inclines me to hope,
That soon an epistle, from you I shall see,
Wherein will be spelt the word joy with a g.

(a) I well am inform'd, there is still in your speech,
"A most disagreeable hobble, or hitch;"
Not yet to have conquer'd bad habits, dear Phil,
With me, needs must wear the appearance of ill;
Still falsely attach'd to the errors of youth,
Still aukward in manners, in speech still uncouth:
I dare not the flattering hope entertain,[Pg 22]
That you, as an orator, credit will gain;
If so, to my pride 'twill an overthrow be,
And certain disgrace must accrue unto thee:
"(b) At Athens, to orat'ry, such the respect,
"That of it, herb women, were judges correct:"
But lest my assertion with you shou'd want weight,
I'll venture a story in point to relate:

Theophrastus, at Athens, one day in the street,
By chance, with an herb-woman, happen'd to meet;
A question he ask'd: he not speaking Greek pure,
A stranger she call'd him,—of this I am sure,
Thou art not of Athens, a city renown'd,
For oratory, elegance, learning profound:
Her judgment I praise, not mistaken was she,
It prov'd, that of Athens, no native was he:
Apply to yourself, what above I have wrote,
That you, thro' neglect, may no stranger be thought:
I ne'er can the study enough recommend,[Pg 23]
Your fortune, and character, on it depend;
My protection you'll forfeit, the truth I must speak,
(c) Unless you a figure in Parliament make.

"(d) On carving, a hint I shall venture to give,
"Attention it claims, ev'ry day that you live:
"Do you carve with adroitness, the truth prithee own,
"Without hacking, at least half an hour cross a bone:
"Or spatt'ring the sauce in your company's faces,
"And into their pockets o'erturning the glasses;"
While labouring you seem, and at no common rate,
With your sleeve, all the time, in your next neighbour's plate?
Such aukward behaviour admits no excuse,
'Tis avoided with ease, by attention and use;
I therefore shall hope, that e'er this you are able,
To acquit yourself well at the head of a table:
The reverse shou'd it prove (which good heav'n avert)
Believe me, the shock, I but ill could support;
To find you distrait, aukward, clumsy, ill-bred,[Pg 24]
And only in books, not in manners well read;
I frankly confess, I shall wish from my soul,
We two may be distant, as South from North pole.

With regard to your gallantry, much has been said,
'Tho silence profound, you observe on that head,
"(e) Your converse with women, respectful must be,
"But likewise observe au meme temps enjoué:
"(f) On score of their beauty, good sense, or their graces,
"The sex you may flatter, all times, in all cases;
"They love admiration, and think it can ne'er,
"On any conditions be purchas'd too dear:
"These hints from the sex, must with care be conceal'd,
"No mercy expect if they once are reveal'd;"
Revenge is their passion, and well I discern,
"(g) Like Orpheus, in pieces, by them you'd be torn:"
"(h) One maxim pray treasure as long as you live,
"No mark of contempt either sex will forgive;
"The vanity flatter'd of women, or men,[Pg 25]
"Ensures you success with just nine out of ten:"

Resolve me a question I wish much to know,
"(i) Your passion, how stands it, for Madame de Blot?
"Does she list to your tale, are there hopes of success?
"To me, you the secret, may safely confess:
"On giving the mohair, occasion will serve,
"Pour faire le galant, which you'll doubtless observe;"
Te Deum I'll sing when the vict'ry is sure,—
'Tho much I suspect you'll not prove her meilcour;
"She, constant has been to her husband, they say,
"And married, poor soul! 'bove a year and a day;"
Small chance do you stand with a woman so chaste,—
Exclude her, at once, from the region of taste
A beauty obdurate, to lovers a score!
At Paris, the thing was ne'er heard of before;
By you, if the willow, for her must be worn,
No French woman she, in her heart, I'll be sworn.

"In all that you do, and whatever you say,[Pg 26]
"I hope, to the Graces, you sacrifice pay,
"Assiduously courted, their favour you'll gain,"
So shall not, my labour of love, "be in vain."

F I N I S.

NUMBERED FOOTNOTES:

[1] Mr. Harte, Mr. Stanhope's tutor.

[2] Slovenly air.

[3] Those little nothings that give the ton.

[4] High Court, or Jubilee Days.

[5] A famous dancing master at that time in Paris.

[6] Mr. Stanhope's gentleman.

[7] No distortion of countenance, or aukward behaviour; no absence of mind; but to keep the Graces always in remembrance.

[8] Mr. Stanhope dined one day with some company at his father's, when the following circumstance happen'd, which so much enrag'd him, that he called for his servant to take him from table and wash him clean.

[9] A female polisher of manners.

[10] Have your stiffness remov'd.

[11] You should dress like a man of the great world.

[12] Always in the fashion, and your cloaths well put on.

[13] What success with the Graces.

[14] The great art of pleasing.

[15] The amiable, the every thing.

LETTERED FOOTNOTES:

(a) Page 5. second volume.

(b) Page 92. second volume.

(d) Page 53. second volume.

(e) Page 17. second volume.

(f) Page 101. second volume.

(g) Page 106. second volume.

(h) Page 218. second volume.

(i) Page 227. second volume.

(j) Page 216. ditto.

(k) Page 262. second volume.

(l) Page 92. second volume.

(m) Page 18. ditto.

(n) Page 73. third volume.

(o) Page 220. second volume.

(p) Page 332. second volume.

(q) Page 181. ditto.

(r) Page 66. third volume.

(s) Page 220. second volume.

(t) Page 153. third volume.

(u) Page 108. third volume.

(v) Page 74. third volume.

(w) Page 74. ditto.

(x) Page 182. second volume.

(y) Page 113. third volume.

(z) Page 81. third volume.

(a) Page 42. ditto.

(b) Page 43. third volume.

(d) Page 68. ditto.

(e) Page 332. second volume.

(f) Page 57. ditto.

(g) Page 57. second volume.

(h) Page 178. third volume.

(i) Page 351. second volume.

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Transcriber's Notes

On p. 2, extra quotation mark deleted in the phrase "speak distinctly and gracefully" in footnote 1.

On p. 21 The redundant double quotation mark after "grandure" has been deleted.

This poem makes much use of quotation marks. It is not always certain that they have been put in the correct place, but they have been left unchanged.

In "The Fine Gentleman's Etiquette", there are two sets of footnotes. One set, which contains references to Chesterfield's Letters, is anchored with lower-case alphabetic characters, and placed after the relevant paragraph. The second set is anchored with Arabic numerals and placed at the end of the poem.

In footnote 4 the word "days" had "s" printed in reverse. This is now printed the right way round.