extorted from Cibber by this insulting line of with the design of the present work, and afford Pope's : "And has not Colley, too, his Lord and w-e?" It seems that Pope had once the same! But a ridiculous story, suited to the taste of the loungers, nettled Pope more than the keener remonstrances and the honest truths which Cibber has urged. Those who write libels, invite imitation. Besides the two letters addressed by Cibber to Pope, this quarrel produced a moral trifle, or rather a philosophical curiosity, respecting Cibber's own character, which is stamped with the full impression of all its originality. principles, in regard to preserving an equability of temper, which may guide us in Literary Quarrels. Frankly observes, on Cibber's declaration that he is not uneasy at Pope's satire, that “no blockhead is so dull as not to be sore when he is called so; and (you'll excuse me) if that were to be your own case, why should we believe you would not be as uneasy at it as another blockhead? Author. This is pushing me pretty home indeed; but I won't give out. For as it is not at all inconceivable, that a blockhead of my size may have a particular knack of doing some useful thing that might puzzle a wiser man to be master of, will not that blockhead still have something in him to be conceited of? If so, allow me but the vanity of supposing I may have had some such possible knack, and you will not wonder (though in many other points I may still be a blockhead) that ] may, notwithstanding, be contented with my con Frankly. Is it not commendable, in a man of parts, to be warmly concerned for his reputation? Author. In what regards his honesty or honour, I will make some allowance; but for the reputation of his parts, not one tittle. Frankly. How! not to be concerned for what half the learned world are in a continual war about. The title, so expressive of its design, and the whim and good-humour of the work, which may be considered as a curious supplement to the "Apology for his Life," could scarcely have been imagined, and most certainly could not have been executed, but by the genius who dared it. I give the title in the note*. It is a curious exem-dition. plification of what Shaftesbury has so fancifully described as "self-inspection." This little work is a conversation between "Mr. Frankly, and his old acquaintance, Colley Cibber." Cibber had the spirit of making this Mr. Frankly speak the bitterest things against himself; and he must have been an attentive reader of all the keenest reproaches his enemies ever had thrown out. This caustic censor is not a man of straw, set up to be easily knocked down. He has as much vivacity and wit as Cibber himself, and not seldom has the better of the argument. But the gravity and the levity blended in this little piece form admirable contrasts: and Cibber, in this varied effusion, acquires all our esteem for that open simplicity, that unalterable good-humour, which flowed from Nature, and that fine spirit that touches everything with life; yet, as he himself confesses, the main accusation of Mr. Frankly, that "his philosophical air will come out at last mere vanity in masquerade," may be true. I will attempt to collect some specimens of this extraordinary production, because they harmonise he throws out one of the most ludicrous analogies to the figure of our bard :-" When crawling in thy dangerous deed of darkness, I gently, with a finger and a thumb, picked off thy small round body by thy long legs, like a spider making love in a cobweb." ♦ “The EGOTIST, or Colley upon Cibber; being his own picture retouched, to so plain a likeness, that no one, now, would have the face to own it, BUT HIMSELF. 'But one stroke more, and that shall be my last.' DRYDEN. London, 1743." Author. So are another half about religion; but neither Turk or Pope, swords or anathemas, can alter truth! There it stands! always visible to reason, self-defended and immovable! Whatever it was, or is, it ever will be! As no attack can alter, so no defence can add to its proportion. Frankly. At this rate, you pronounce all controversies in wit to be either needless or impertinent. Author. When one in a hundred happens not to be so, or to make amends for being either by its pleasantry, we ought in justice to allow it a great rarity. A reply to a just satire or criticism will seldom be thought better of. Frankly. May not a reply be a good one? Author. Yes, but never absolutely necessary; for as your work (or reputation) must have been good or bad, before it was censured, your reply to that censure could not alter it: it would still be but what it was. If it was good, the attack could not hurt it; if bad, the reply could not mend it. * How many good authors might pursue their studies in quiet, would they never reply to their critics, but on matters of fact, in which their honour may be involved. I have seen very tremendous criticisms on some works of real genius, like serpents on marble columns, wind and dart about, and spit their froth, but they die away on the pillars that enabled them to erect their malig Frankly. But slander is not always so impotent their pardon, if that should be all the reply I can as you seem to suppose it; men of the best sense afford them-" may be misled by it, or by their not inquiring after truth, may never come at it; and the vulgar, as they are less apt to be good than ill-natured, often mistake malice for wit, and have an uncharitable joy in commending it. Now, when this is the case, is not a tame silence, upon being satirically libelled, as liable to be thought guilt, or stupidity, as to be the result of innocence, or temper?-Self-defence is a very natural and just excuse for a reply. Author. Be it so! But still that does not always make it necessary; for though slander, by their not weighing it, may pass upon some few people of sense for truth, and might draw great numbers of the vulgar into its party, the mischief can never be of long duration. A satirical slander, that has no truth to support it, is only a great fish upon dry land: it may flounce and fling, and make a fretful pother, but it won't bite you; you need not knock it on the head; it will soon lie still, and die quietly of itself. This boy of seventy odd," for such he was when he wrote "The Egotist," unfolds his character by many lively personal touches. He declares he could not have "given the world so finished a coxcomb as Lord Foppington, if he had not found a good deal of the same stuff in himself to make him with." He addresses "A Postscript, To those few unfortunate Readers and Writers who may not have more sense than the Author:" and he closes, in all the fulness of his spirit, with a piece of consolation for those who are so cruelly attacked by superior genius. "Let us then, gentlemen, who have the misfortune to lie thus at the mercy of those whose natural parts happen to be stronger than our own let us, I say, make the most of our sterility! Let us double and treble the ranks of our thickness, that we may form an impregnable phalanx, and stand every way in front to the enemy! or, would you still be liable to less hazard, lay but yourselves down, as I do, flat and quiet upon your Frankly. The single-sheet critics will find you faces, when Pride, Malice, Envy, Wit, or Prejuemployment. Author. Indeed they won't. I'm not so mad as to think myself a match for the invulnerable. Frankly. Have a care; there's Foulwit; though he can't feel, he can bite. Author. Aye, so will bugs and fleas; but that's only for sustenance: everything must feed, you know; and your creeping critics are a sort of vermin, that if they could come to a king, would not spare him; yet, whenever they can persuade others to laugh at their jest upon me, I will honestly make one of the number; but I must ask nant forms to the public eye. They fall in due time; and weak must be the substance of that pillar, which does not stand, and look as beautiful, when the serpents have crawled over it, as before. Dr. Brown, in his Letter to Bishop Lowth, has laid down an axiom in literary criticism: "A mere literary attack, however well or ill-founded, would not easily have drawn me into a public expostulation; for every man's true literary character is best seen in his own writings. Critics may rail, disguise, insinuate, or pervert; yet still the object of their censures lies equally open to all the world. Thus the world becomes a competent judge of the merits of the work animadverted on. Hence the mere author hath a fair chance for a fair decision, at least among the judicious; and it is of no mighty consequence what opinions the injudicious form concerning mental abilities. For this reason, I have never replied to any of those numerous critics who have on different occasions honoured me with their regard." P. 4. dice, let fly their formidable shot at you, what "C. C." After all, one may perceive, that though the good-humour of poor Cibber was real, still the immortal satire of Pope had injured his higher feelings. He betrays his secret grief at his close, while he seems to be sporting with his pen; and though he appears to confide in the falsity of the satire, as his best chance for saving him from it, still he feels that the caustic ink of such a satirist must blister and spot wherever it falls. The anger of Warburton, and the sternness of Johnson, who seems always to have considered an actor as an inferior being among men of genius, have degraded Cibber. They never suspected that "a blockhead of his size could do what wiser men could not," and as a fine comic genius-command a whole province in human nature. POPE AND ADDISON. The quarrel between POPE and ADDISON Originated in one of the infirmities of genius-a subject of inquiry even after their death, by Sir WILLIAM BLACKSTONE-POPE courts ADDISON-suspects ADDISON of jealousy-ADDISON'S foible, to be considered a great poet-interview between the rivals, of which the result was the portrait of Articus, for which ADDISON was made to sit. AMONG the Literary Quarrels of POPE one acquires dignity and interest from the characters of both parties. It closed by producing the severest, but the most masterly portrait of one man of genius, composed by another, which has ever been hung on the satiric Parnassus, for the contemplation of ages. ADDISON must descend to posterity with the dark spots of ATTICUS staining a purity of character which had nearly proved immaculate. were departed, the same interest was general among the lovers of literature; but those obscure motives which had only influenced two mindsthose imperceptible events, which are only events as they are watched by the jealousy of genius,— eluded the most anxious investigation. Yet so lasting and so powerful was the interest excited by this literary quarrel, that, within a few years, the elegant mind of Sir WILLIAM BLACKSTONE withdrew from the severity of profounder studies to inquire into the causes of a quarrel which was still exciting the most opposite opinions. Blackstone has judged and summed up; but though he evidently inclines to favour Addison, by throwing into the balance some explanation for the silence of Addison against the audible complaints of Pope; though sometimes he pleads as well as judges, and infers as well as proves; yet even Blackstone has not taken on himself to deliver a decision. His happy genius has only honoured literary history by the masterly force and luminous arrangement of investigation, to which, since the time of Bayle, it has been too great & stranger*. The friendship between Pope and Addison was interrupted by one of the infirmities of genius. Tempers of watchful delicacy gather up in silence and darkness motives so shadowy in their origin, and of such minute growth, that, never breaking out into any open act, they escape all other eyes but those of the parties themselves. These causes of enmity are too subtle to bear the touch; they cannot be inquired after, nor can they be described; and it may be said, that the minds of such men have rather quarrelled than they themselves: they utter no complaints, but they avoid each other. All the world perceived that two authors of the finest genius had separated from motives on which both were silent, but which had evidently operated with equal force on both. Their admirers were very general, and at a time when literature divided with politics the public interest, the best feelings of the nation were engaged in tracking the obscure commencements and the secret growth of this literary quarrel, in which the amiable and moral qualities of Addison, and the gratitude and honour of Pope, were equally involved. The friends of either party pretended that their chiefs entertained a reciprocal regard for each other, while the illustrious characters themselves were living in a state of hostility. Even long after these literary heroes importance." At this day, removed from all personal influence and affections, and furnished with facts which contemporaries could not command, we take no other concern in this literary quarrel, but as far as curiosity and truth delight us in the study of Sir William Blackstone's Discussion on the Quarrel between Addison and Pope was communicated by Dr. Kippis in his Biographia Britannica, vol. i. p. 56. Blackstone is there designated as "a gentleman of considerable rank, to whom the public is obliged for works of much higher human nature. only historians! We are now of no party-we are against any alteration, and to leave it as "a delicious little thing, merum sal." It was then, says Pope was a young writer when introduced to Warburton, "Mr. Pope began to open his eyes to Addison, by the intervention of that generously- Addison's character." But when afterwards he minded friend of both, Steele. Addison eulogised discovered that Tickell's Homer was opposed to Pope's "Essay on Criticism;" and this fine his, and judged, as Warburton says, 66 by laying genius covering with his wing an unfledged bard- | many odd circumstances together," that Addison ‡, ling, conferred a favour which, in the estimation and not Tickell, was the author-the alienation of a poet, claims a life of indelible gratitude. Pope zealously courted Addison by his poetical aid on several important occasions; he gave all the dignity that fine poetry could confer on the science of medals, which Addison had written on, and wrote the finest prologue in the language for the Whig tragedy of his friend. Dennis attacked, and Pope defended, "Cato."* Addison might have disapproved both of the manner and the matter of the defence, but he did more-he insulted Pope by a letter to Dennis, which Dennis eagerly published as Pope's severest condemnaAn alienation of friendship must have already taken place, but by no overt act on Pope's tion. side. Not that, however, Pope had not found his affections weakened: the dark hints scattered in his letters, show that something was gathering in his mind. Warburton, from his familiar intercourse with Pope, must be allowed to have known his literary concerns more than any one; and when he drew up the narrative †, seems to me to have stated uncouthly, but expressively, the progressive state of Pope's feelings. According to that narrative, Pope "reflected," that after he had first published "The Rape of the Lock," then nothing more than a hasty jeu d'esprit, when he communicated to Addison his very original project of the whole Sylphid machinery, Addison chilled the ardent bard with his coldness, advised him on Pope's side was complete. No open breach indeed had yet taken place between the rival authors, who, as jealous of dominion as two princes, would still demonstrate, in their public edicts, their inviolable regard; while they were only watching the advantageous moment when they might take arms against each other. Still Addison publicly bestowed great encomiums on Pope's Iliad, although he had himself composed the rival version, and in private preferred his own §. He did this with the same ease he had continued its encouragement while Pope was employed on it. We are astonished to discover such deep politics among literary Machiavels! Addison had certainly raised up a literary party. Sheridan, who wrote nearly with the knowledge of a contemporary, in his "Life of Swift," would naturally use the language and the feelings of the time; and in describing Ambrose Phillips, he adds, he was one of Mr. Addison's little senate." 66 But in this narrative I have dropped some material parts. Pope believed, that Addison had employed Gildon to write against him, and had encouraged Phillips to asperse his character. We cannot, now, quite demonstrate these alleged facts; but we can show that Pope believed them, and that Addison does not appear to have refuted them . Such tales, whether entirely false or par Pope's conjecture was perfectly correct. Dr. Warton confirms it from a variety of indisputable authorities.- Warton's Pope, vol. iv. p. 24. § In the Freeholder, May, 1716. The strongest parts of Sir William Blackstone's discussion turn on certain inaccurate dates, of Ruffhead, in his statements, which show them to be inconsistent with the times when they are alleged to have happened. These erroneous dates had been detected in an able article in the Monthly Review of that work, April, 1769. Ruffhead is a tasteless, confused, and unskilful writer-Sir William has laid great stress on the incredible story of Addison paying Gildon to write against Pope, a man so amiable in his moral character." It is possible that the Earl of Warwick, who conveyed the information, might have been a malicious, lying youth; * Dennis asserts in one of his pamphlets, that Pope, fermenting with envy at the success of Addison's "Cato," went to Lintot, and persuaded him to engage this redoubted critic to write the remarks on "Cato"-that Pope's gratitude to Dennis for having complied with his request, was the well-known narrative of Dennis "being placed as a lunatic in the hands of Dr. Norris, a curer of mad people, at his house in Hatton-garden, though at the same time I appeared publicly every day, both in the park and in the town." Can we suppose that Dennis tells a falsehood respecting Pope's desiring Lintot to engage Dennis to write down "Cato"? If true, did Pope wish to see Addison degraded, and at the same time take an opportunity of ridiculing the critic, without, how-but then Pope had some knowledge of mankind— ever, answering his arguments? The secret history of literature is like that of politics! + In the notes to the Prologue to the Satires. 66 he believed the story, for he wrote instantly, with honest though heated feelings, to Addison, and sent him, at that moment, the first sketch of the cha tially true, may be considered in this inquiry of for the exact period has not been given, that their Was Addison, then, jealous of Pope? Addison, in every respect, then, his superior; of established literary fame when Pope was yet young; preceding him in age and rank; and fortunate in all the views of human ambition. But what if Addison's foible was that of being considered a great poet? His political poetry had raised him to an undue elevation, and the growing celebrity of Pope began to offend him, not with the appearance of a meek rival, with whom he might have held divided empire, but as a master-spirit, that was preparing to reign alone. It is certain that Addison was the most feeling man alive at the fate of his poetry. At the representation of his " Cato," such was his agitation, that had "Cato" been condemned, the life of Addison might too have been shortened. When a wit had burlesqued some lines of this dramatic poem, his uneasiness at the innocent banter was equally oppressive; nor could he rest, till, by the interposition of a friend, he prevailed upon the author to burn them *. friends promoted a meeting between these two great men. After a mutual lustration, it was imagined they might have expiated their error, and have been restored to their original purity. The interview did take place between the rival wits, and was productive of some very characteristic ebullitions, strongly corroborative of the facts as they have been stated here. This extraordinary interview has been frequently alluded to. There can be no doubt of the genuineness of the narrative; but I know not on what authority it came into the world +. †The earliest and most particular narrative of this remarkable interview, I have hitherto only traced to "Memoirs of the Life and Writings of A. Pope, Esq.," by William Ayre, Esq., 1745, vol. i., p. 100. This work comes in a very suspicious form; it is a huddled compilation, yet contains some curious matters; and pretends, in the title-page, to be occasionally drawn from " original MSS. and the testimonies of persons of honour." He declares, in the preface, that he and his friends To the facts already detailed, and to this dispo-" had means and some helps which were never sition in Addison's temper, and to the quick and active suspicions of Pope, irritable, and ambitious of all the sovereignty of poetry, we may easily conceive many others of those obscure motives, and invisible events, which none but Pope, alienated every day more and more from his affections for Addison, too acutely perceived, too profoundly felt, and too unmercifully avenged. These are alluded to, when the satirist sings, Damn with faint praise; assent with civil leer; public." He sometimes appeals to several noble friends of Pope for his authority. But the mode of its publication, and that of its execution, are not in its favour. These volumes were written within six months of the decease of our poet; have no publisher's name; and yet the author, whoever he was, took out "a patent, under his majesty's royal signet," for securing the copyright. This Ayre is so obscure an author, though a translator of Tasso's Aminta, that he seems to have escaped even the minor chronicles of literature. At the time of its publication, there appeared "Remarks on Squire Ayre's Memoirs of Pope." The writer pretends he has discovered him to be only one of the renowned Edmund Curll's 44 squires," who, about that time, had created an order of literary squires, ready to tramp at the funeral of every great personage with his Life. The "Remarker" then addresses Curll, and insinuates he speaks from personal knowledge of the man :-" You have an adversaria of title-pages of your own contrivance, and which your authors are to write books to. Among what you call the occasional, or black list, I have racter of Atticus. Addison used him very civilly seen Memoirs of Dean Swift, Pope, &c." Curll, ever after-but it does not appear that Addison indeed, was then sending forth many pseudo ever contradicted the tale of the officious Earl. squires, with lives of Congreve, Mrs. Oldfield, All these facts, which Pope repeated many years &c.; all which contain some curious particulars, after to Spence, Sir William was not acquainted picked up in coffee-houses, conversation, or pamwith, for they were transcribed from Spence's phlets of the day. This William Ayre I accept papers by Johnson, after Blackstone had written. as a squire of low degree," but a real per*From Lord Egmont's MS. Collections.-See sonage. As for this interview, Ayre was certainly the Addenda to Kippis's Biographia Britannica. | incompetent to the invention of a single stroke of Accusations crowded faster than the pen could write them down. Pope never composed with more warmth. No one can imagine that Atticus was an ideal personage, touched as it is with all the features of an extraordinary individual. In a word, it was recognised instantly by the individual himself; and it was suppressed by Pope for near before he suffered it to escape to the twenty years, public. It was some time during their avowed rupture, 44 |