Be it a weakness, it deferves fome praise, We love the play-place of our early days; The scene is touching, and the heart is stone That feels not at that fight, and feels at none. The wall on which we tried our graving skill, The very name we carv'd fubfifting still, The bench on which we fat while deep employ'd,
Though mangled, hack'd, and hew'd, not yet deftroy'd ;
The little ones unbutton'd, glowing hot,
Playing our games, and on the very spot,
As happy as we once, to kneel and draw
The chalky ring, and knuckle down at taw,
To pitch the ball into the grounded hat,
Or drive it devious with a dextrous pat;
The pleafing fpectacle at once excites
Such recollection of our own delights,
That viewing it, we feem almost t' obtain
Our innocent fweet fimple years again.
This fond attachment to the well-known place
Whence first we started into life's long race,
Maintains its hold with fuch unfailing fway,
We feel it ev'n in age, and at our latest day.
Hark? how the fire of chits, whofe future
fhare
Of claffic food begins to be his care,
With his own likeness plac'd on either knee,
Indulges all a father's heart-felt glee,
And tells them, as he ftrokes their filver locks,
That they muft foon learn Latin, and to box;
Then turning, he regales his list'ning wife
With all th' adventures of his early life,
His skill in coachmanship, or driving chaise,
In bilking tavern bills and fpouting plays,
What shifts he us'd, detected in a scrape,
How he was flogg'd, or had the luck t' escape,
What fums he lost at play, and how he fold
Watch, feals, and all—'till all his pranks are
told.
Retracing thus his frolics ('tis a name
That palliates deeds of folly and of shame)
He gives the local bias all its fway,
Refolves that where he play'd his fons fhall
And destines their bright genius to be shown
Juft in the scene where he difplay'd his own.
The meek and bafhful boy will foon be taught
To be as bold and forward as he ought,
The rude will fcuffle through with ease enough,
Great schools fuit beft the sturdy and the rough.
Ah happy defignation, prudent choice,
Th' event is fure, expect it and rejoice!
Soon fee your wifh fulfill'd in either child,
The pert made perter, and the tame made wild.
The great indeed, by titles, riches, birth, Excus'd th' incumbrance of more folid worth, Are beft difpos'd of, where with most fuccefs They may acquire that confident address, Thofe habits of profufe and lewd expence, That scorn of all delights but those of sense, Which though in plain plebeians we condemn, With fo much reafon all expect from them. But families of lefs illuftrious fame,
Whofe chief distinction is their spotlefs name, Whofe heirs, their honours none, their income fmall,
Must shine by true defert, or not at all,
What dream they of, that with fo little care They risk their hopes, their dearest treasure
They dream of little Charles or William grac'd
With wig prolix, down-flowing to his waift,
They fee th' attentive crowds his talents draw,
They hear him fpeak-the oracle of law.
The father who defigns his babe a priest,
Dreams him episcopally fuch at least,
And while the playful jockey scours the room
Brifkly, aftride upon the parlour broom,
In fancy fees him more fuperbly ride
In coach with purple lin'd, and mitres on its
Events improbable and strange as these,
Which only a parental eye forefees,
A public school shall bring to pass with ease.
But how? refides fuch virtue in that air
As must create an appetite for pray'r ?
And will it breathe into him all the zeal
That candidates for fuch a prize should feel,
To take the lead and be the foremost still
In all true worth and literary skill?
Ah blind to bright futurity, untaught
The knowledge of the world, and dull of
• thought!
• Church-ladders are not always mounted best
By learned Clerks and Latinifts profefs'd.
Th' exalted prize demands an upward look,
Not to be found by poring on a book.
• Small kill in Latin, and ftill lefs in Greek,
Is more than adequate to all I feek;
Let erudition grace him or not grace,
• I give the bawble but the second place,
• His wealth, fame, honours, all that I intend,
• Subsist and center in one point—a friend.
A friend, whate'er he ftudies or neglects,
Shall give him confequence, heal all defects,
His intercourfe with peers, and fons of peers-
There dawns the fplendour of his future years,
In that bright quarter his propitious skies
Shall blush betimes, and there his glory rise. • Your Lordship and your Grace! what school can • teach
A rhet'ric equal to those parts of speech? • What need of Homer's verfe or Tully's profe, Sweet interjections! if he learn but those ? • Let rev'rend churls his ignorance rebuke, Who ftarve upon a dog's-ear'd Pentateuch, • The parfon knows enough who knows a Duke.'
Egregious purpose ! worthily begun
In barb'rous prostitution of your son,
Prefs'd on his part by means that would disgrace
A fcriv'ner's clerk or footman out of place,
And ending, if at last its end be gain'd,
In facrilege, in God's own house profan'd.
It may fucceed; and if his fins fhould call
For more than common punishment, it fhall;
The wretch fhall rife, and be the thing on earth
Least qualified in honour, learning, worth,
To occupy a facred, awful poft,
In which the best and worthiest tremble most.
The royal letters are a thing of course,
A king that would, might recommend his horse, And Deans, no doubt, and Chapters, with one
As bound in duty, would confirm the choice.
|