[212] Johnson says, that though "Pope attacked Cibber with acrimony,
the provocation is not easily discoverable." But the
statements of Cibber, which have never been contradicted,
show sufficient motives to excite the poetic irascibility. It
was Cibber's "fling" at the unowned and condemned comedy
of the triumvirate of wits, Pope, Gay, and Arbuthnot,
_Three Hours after Marriage_, when he performed Bayes in the
_Rehearsal_, that incurred the immortal odium. There was no
malice on Cibber's side; for it was then the custom to restore
the zest of that obsolete dramatic satire, by introducing
allusions to any recent theatrical event. The plot of this
ridiculous comedy hinging on the deep contrivance of two
lovers getting access to the wife of a virtuoso, "one
curiously swathed up like an Egyptian mummy, and the other
slily covered in the pasteboard skin of a crocodile," was an
incident so _extremely natural_, that it seemed congenial
with the high imagination and the deep plot of a Bayes!
Poor Cibber, in the gaiety of his _impromptu_, made the
"fling;" and, unluckily, it was applauded by the audience!
The irascibility of Pope too strongly authenticated one of
the three authors. "In the swelling of his heart, after the
play was over, he came behind the scenes with his lips pale
and his voice trembling, to call me to account for the insult;
and accordingly fell upon me with all the foul language that
a wit out of his senses would be capable of, choked with the
foam of his passion." Cibber replied with dignity, insisted
on the privilege of the character, and that he would repeat
the same jest as long as the public approved of it. Pope
would have certainly approved of Cibber's manly conduct,
had he not been the author himself. To this circumstance may
be added the reception which the town and the court bestowed
on Cibber's "Nonjuror," a satire on the politics of the
jacobite faction; Pope appears, under the assumed name of
_Barnevelt_, to have published "an odd piece of wit,
proving that the Nonjuror, in its design, its characters, and
almost every scene of it, was a closely-couched jacobite
libel against the Government." Cibber says that "this was so
shrewdly maintained, that I almost liked the jest myself."
Pope seems to have been fond of this new species of irony;
for, in the Pastorals of Phillips, he showed the same sort of
ingenuity, and he repeated the same charge of political
mystery against his own finest poem; for he proved by many
"merry inuendoes," that "The Rape of the Lock" was as
audacious a libel as the pretended Barnevelt had made out the
Nonjuror to be. See note, p. 280.
[213] Cibber did not obtrude himself in this contest. Had he been
merely a poor vain creature, he had not preserved so long
a silence. His good-temper was without anger, but he
remonstrates with no little dignity, when he chooses to be
solemn; though to be playful was more natural to him. "If I
have lain so long stoically silent, or unmindful of your
satirical favours, it was not so much for want of a proper
reply, as that I thought there never needed a public one;
for all people of sense would know what truth or falsehood
there was in what you said of me, without my wisely
pointing it out to them. Nor did I choose to follow your
example, of being so much a self-tormentor, as to be
concerned at whatever opinion of me any published invective
might infuse into people unknown to me. Even the malicious,
though they may like the libel, don't always believe it."
His reason for reply is, that his silence should not be
farther reproached "as a plain confession of my being a
bankrupt in wit, if I don't immediately answer those bills
of discredit you have drawn upon me." There is no doubt that
Cibber perpetually found instigators to encourage these
attacks; and one forcible argument he says was, that "a
disgrace, from such a pen, would stick upon me to posterity."
He seems to be aware that his acquaintance cheer him to the
lists "for their particular amusement."
[214] "His edition of Shakspeare proved no better than a foil to set
off the superiority of Theobald's; and Cibber bore away the
palm from him in the drama. We have an account of two attempts
of Pope's, one in each of the two principal branches of this
species of poetry, and both unsuccessful. The fate of the
comedy has been already mentioned (in page 300), and the
tragedy was saved from the like fate by one not less
ignominious, being condemned and burnt by his own hands. It
was called _Cleone_, and formed upon the same story as a late
one wrote and published by Mr. Dodsley with the same title in
1759. See Dodsley's Preface."--_Biographia Britannica_, 1760.
[215] Armstrong, who was a keen observer of man, has expressed his
uncommon delight in the company of Cibber. "Beside his
abilities as a writer (as a writer of comedies, Armstrong
means), and the singular variety of his powers as an
actor, he was to the last one of the most agreeable,
cheerful, and best-humoured men you would ever wish to
converse with."--Warton's _Pope_, vol. iv. 160.
Cibber was one of those rare beings whose dispositions Hume
describes "as preferable to an inheritance of 10,000_l._ a
year."
[216] Dr. Aikin, in his Biographical Dictionary, has thus written on
Cibber: "It cannot be doubted, that, at the time, the contest
was more painful to Pope than to Cibber. But Pope's satire is
immortal, whereas Cibber's sarcasms are no longer read.
_Cibber may therefore be represented to future times with less
credit for abilities than he really deserves_; for he was
certainly no dunce, though not, in the higher sense of the
word, a man of genius. _His effrontery and vanity_ could not
be easily overcharged, even by a foe. Indeed, they are
striking features in the portrait drawn by himself." Dr.
Aikin's political morality often vented its indignation at the
successful injustice of great power! Why should not the same
spirit conduct him in the Literary Republic? With the just
sentiments he has given on Cibber, it was the duty of an
intrepid critic to raise a moral feeling against the despotism
of genius, and to have protested against the arbitrary power
of Pope. It is participating in the injustice to pass it by,
without even a regret at its effect.
As for Cibber himself, he declares he was _not impudent_, and
I am disposed to take his own word, for he _modestly_ asserts
this, in a remark on Pope's expression,
"'Cibberian forehead,'
"by which I find you modestly mean _Cibberian impudence_, as a
sample of the strongest.--Sir, your humble servant--but pray,
sir, in your 'Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot' (where, by the way, in
your ample description of a great Poet, you slily hook in a
whole hat-full of virtues to your own character) have not you
this particular line?
'And thought a _Lie_, in verse or prose, the same--'"
Cibber laments it is not so, for "any accusation in smooth
verse will always sound well, though it is not tied down to
have a tittle of truth in it, when the strongest defence in
poor humble prose, not having that harmonious advantage, takes
nobody by the ear--very hard upon an innocent man! For suppose
in prose, now, I were as confidently to insist that you were
an _honest_, _good-natured_, _inoffensive creature_, would my
barely saying so be any proof of it? No sure. Why then, might
it not be supposed an equal truth, that both our assertions
were equally false? _Yours_, when you call me _impudent_;
_mine_, when I call you _modest_, &c. While my superiors
suffer me occasionally to sit down with them, I hope it will
be thought that rather the _Papal_ than the _Cibberian_
forehead ought to be out of countenance." I give this as a
specimen of Cibber's serious reasonings--they are poor; and
they had been so from a greater genius; for ridicule and
satire, being only a mere abuse of eloquence, can never be
effectually opposed by truisms. Satire must be repelled by
satire; and Cibber's _sarcasms_ obtained what Cibber's
_reasonings_ failed in.
[217] Vain as Cibber has been called, and vain as he affects to be, he
has spoken of his own merits as a comic writer,--and he was a
very great one,--with a manly moderation, very surprising
indeed in a vain man. Pope has sung in his _Dunciad_, most
harmoniously inhuman,
"How, with less reading than makes felons scape,
Less human genius than God gives an ape,
Small thanks to France, and none to Rome or Greece,
A patch'd, vamp'd, future, old, revived new piece;
'Twixt Plautus, Fletcher, Congreve, and Corneille,
Can make a CIBBER, JOHNSON, and OZELL."
Blasting as was this criticism, it could not raise the anger
of the gay and careless Cibber. Yet what could have put it to
a sharper test? Johnson and Ozell are names which have long
disappeared from the dramatic annals, and could only have been
coupled with Cibber to give an idea of what the satirist meant
by "the human genius of an ape." But listen to the mild, yet
the firm tone of Cibber--he talks like injured innocence, and
he triumphs over Pope, in all the dignity of truth.--I appeal
to Cibber's posterity!
"And pray, sir, why my name under this scurvy picture? I
flatter myself, that if you had not put it there, nobody else
would have thought it like me; nor can I easily believe that
you yourself do: but perhaps you imagined it would be a
laughing ornament to your verse, and had a mind to divert
other people's spleen with it as well as your own. Now let me
hold up my head a little, and then we shall see how the
features hit me." He proceeds to relate, how "many of those
plays have lived the longer for my meddling with them." He
mentions several, which "had been dead to the stage out of all
memory, which have since been in a constant course of acting
above these thirty or forty years." And then he adds: "Do
those altered plays at all take from the merit of those _more
successful pieces_, which were _entirely my own_?--When a man
is abused, he has a right to speak even laudable truths of
himself, to confront his slanderer. Let me therefore add, that
my first Comedy of _The Fool in Fashion_ was as much (though
not so valuable) an original, as any work Mr. Pope himself has
produced. It is now forty-seven years since its first
appearance on the stage, where it has kept its station, to
this very day, without ever lying one winter dormant. Nine
years after this, I brought on _The Careless Husband_, with
still greater success; and was that too
'A patch'd, vamp'd, future, old, revived new piece?'
Let the many living spectators of these plays, then, judge
between us, whether the above verses came from the honesty of
a satirist, who would be thought, like you, the upright censor
of mankind. Sir, this libel was below you! Satire, without
truth, recoils upon its author, and must, at other times,
render him suspected of prejudice, even where he may be just;
as frauds, in religion, make more atheists than converts; and
the bad heart, Mr. Pope, that points an injury with verse,
makes it the more unpardonable, as it is not the result of
sudden passion, but of an indulged and slowly-meditating
ill-nature. What a merry mixed mortal has nature made you,
that can debase that strength and excellence of genius to the
lowest human weakness, that of offering unprovoked injuries,
at the hazard of your being ridiculous too, when the venom you
spit falls short of your aim!" I have quoted largely, to show
that Cibber was capable of exerting a dignified remonstrance,
as well as pointing the lightest, yet keenest, shafts of
sarcastic wit.
[218] Ayre's "Memoirs of Pope," vol. ii. p. 82.
[219] Even the "Grub-street Journal" had its jest on his appointment
to the laureateship. In No. 52 was the following epigram:--
"Well, said Apollo, still 'tis mine
To give the real laurel:
For that my Pope, my son divine,
Of rivals ends the quarrel.
But guessing who would have the luck
To be the birth-day fibber,
I thought of Dennis, Tibbald, Duck,
But never dreamt of Cibber!"--ED.
[220] It may be reasonably doubted, however, if vanity had not
something to do with this--the vanity of appearing as a
philosophical writer, and astonishing the friends who had
considered him only as a good comedian. The volume was
magnificently printed in quarto on fine paper, "for the
author," in 1747. It is entitled, "The Character and Conduct
of Cicero Considered, from the History of his Life by the Rev.
Dr. Middleton; with occasional Essays and Observations upon
the most Memorable Facts and Persons during that Period." The
entire work is a series of somewhat too-familiar notes on the
various passages of "Cicero's Life and Times," as narrated by
Middleton. He terms the unsettled state after the death of
Sylla "an uncomfortable time for those sober citizens who had
a mind and a right to be quiet." His professional character
breaks forth when he speaks of Roscius instructing Cicero in
acting; and in the very commencement of his grave labour he
rambles back to the theatre to quote a scene from Vanbrugh's
_Relapse_, as a proof how little fashionable readers _think_
while they _read_. Colley's well-meaning but free-and-easy
reflections on the gravities of Roman history, in the progress
of his work, are remarkable, and have all the author's coarse
common sense, but very little depth or refinement--ED.
[221] With what good-humour he retorts a piece of sly malice of
Pope's; who, in the notes to the _Dunciad_, after quoting
Jacob's account of Cibber's talents, adds--"Mr. Jacob omitted
to remark that he is particularly admirable in tragedy." To
which Cibber rejoins--"Ay, sir, and your remark has omitted,
too, that (with all his commendations) I can't dance upon the
rope, or make a saddle, nor play upon the organ. My dear, dear
Mr. Pope, how could a man of your stinging capacity let so
tame, so low a reflection escape him? Why, this hardly rises
above the petty malice of Miss Molly. 'Ay, ay, you may think
my sister as handsome as you please, but if you were to see
her legs!' If I have made so many crowded theatres laugh, and
in the right place, too, for above forty years together, am I
to make up the number of your dunces, because I have not the
equal talent of making them cry too? Make it your own case. Is
what you have excelled in at all the worse for your having so
dismally dabbled in the farce of _Three Hours after Marriage_?
What mighty reason will the world have to laugh at my weakness
in tragedy, more than at yours in comedy?"
I will preserve one anecdote of that felicity of temper--that
undisturbed good-humour which never abandoned Cibber in his
most distressful moments. When he brought out, in 1724, his
_Caesar in Egypt_, at a great expense, and "a beggarly account
of empty boxes" was the result, it raised some altercations
between the poet and his brother managers, the bard still
struggling for another and another night. At length he closed
the quarrel with a pun, which confessed the misfortune, with
his own good-humour. In a periodical publication of the times
I find the circumstance recorded in this neat epigram:--
_On the Sixth Night of CIBBER'S "Caesar in Egypt."_
When the pack'd audience from their posts retired,
And Julius in a general hiss expired;
Sage Booth to Cibber cried, "Compute our gains!
These dogs of Egypt, and their dowdy queans,
But ill requite these habits and these scenes,
To rob Corneille for such a motley piece:
His geese were swans; but zounds! thy swans are geese!"
Rubbing his firm invulnerable brow,
The bard replied--"The critics must allow
'Twas ne'er in _Caesar's destiny_ TO RUN!"
Wilks bow'd, and bless'd the gay pacific pun.
[222] A wicked wag of a lord had enticed Pope into a tavern, and laid
a love-plot against his health. Cibber describes his resolute
interference by snatching "our little Homer by the heels. This
was done for the honour of our nation. Homer would have been
too serious a sacrifice to our evening's amusement." He has
metamorphosed our Apollo into a "Tom-tit;" but the Ovidian
warmth, however ludicrous, will not _now_ admit of a
narrative. This story, by our comic writer, was accompanied by
a print, that was seen by more persons, probably, than read
the _Dunciad_. In his second letter, Cibber, alluding to the
vexation of Pope on this ridiculous story, observes--"To have
been exposed as _a bad man_, ought to have given thee thrice
the concern of being shown a _ridiculous lover_." And now that
he had discovered that he could touch the nerves of Pope, 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."
[223] "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.'
_London_, 1743.
DRYDEN."
[224] 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 malignant 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."