A SECOND LETTER TO JOHN MURRAY, ESQ. ON THE REV. W.L. BOWLES'S
STRICTURES ON THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF POPE.
* * * * *
_Now first published_.
* * * * *
Ravenna, March 25. 1821.
Dear Sir,
In the further "Observations" of Mr. Bowles, in rejoinder to the
charges brought against his edition of Pope, it is to be regretted
that he has lost his temper. Whatever the language of his antagonists
may have been, I fear that his replies have afforded more pleasure to
them than to the public. That Mr. Bowles should not be pleased is
natural, whether right or wrong; but a temperate defence would have
answered his purpose in the former case--and, in the latter, no
defence, however violent, can tend to any thing but his discomfiture.
I have read over this third pamphlet, which you have been so obliging
as to send me, and shall venture a few observations, in addition to
those upon the previous controversy.
Mr. Bowles sets out with repeating his "_confirmed conviction_," that
"what he said of the moral part of Pope's character was, generally
speaking, true; and that the principles of _poetical_ criticism which
he has laid down are _invariable_ and _invulnerable_," &c.; and that
he is the _more_ persuaded of this by the "_exaggerations_ of his
opponents." This is all very well, and highly natural and sincere.
Nobody ever expected that either Mr. Bowles, or any other author,
would be convinced of human fallibility in their own persons. But it
is nothing to the purpose--for it is not what Mr. Bowles thinks, but
what is to be thought of Pope, that is the question. It is what he
has asserted or insinuated against a name which is the patrimony of
posterity, that is to be tried; and Mr. Bowles, as a party, can be no
judge. The more _he_ is persuaded, the better for himself, if it give
him any pleasure; but he can only persuade others by the proofs
brought out in his defence.
After these prefatory remarks of "conviction," &c. Mr. Bowles
proceeds to Mr. Gilchrist; whom he charges with "slang" and
"slander," besides a small subsidiary indictment of "abuse,
ignorance, malice," and so forth. Mr. Gilchrist has, indeed, shown
some anger; but it is an honest indignation, which rises up in
defence of the illustrious dead. It is a generous rage which
interposes between our ashes and their disturbers. There appears also
to have been some slight personal provocation. Mr. Gilchrist, with a
chivalrous disdain of the fury of an incensed poet, put his name to a
letter avowing the production of a former essay in defence of Pope,
and consequently of an attack upon Mr. Bowles. Mr. Bowles appears to
be angry with Mr. Gilchrist for four reasons:--firstly, because he
wrote an article in "The London Magazine;" secondly, because he
afterwards avowed it; thirdly, because he was the author of a still
more extended article in "The Quarterly Review;" and, fourthly,
because he was NOT the author of the said Quarterly article, and had
the audacity to disown it--for no earthly reason but because he had
NOT written it.
Mr. Bowles declares, that "he will not enter into a particular
examination of the pamphlet," which by a _misnomer_ is called
"Gilchrist's Answer to Bowles," when it should have been called
"Gilchrist's Abuse of Bowles." On this error in the baptism of Mr.
Gilchrist's pamphlet, it may be observed, that an answer may be
abusive and yet no less an answer, though indisputably a temperate
one might be the better of the two: but if _abuse_ is to cancel all
pretensions to reply, what becomes of Mr. Bowles's answers to Mr.
Gilchrist?
Mr. Bowles continues:--"But as Mr. Gilchrist derides my _peculiar
sensitiveness to criticism_, before I show how _destitute of truth is
this representation_, I will here explicitly declare the only
grounds," &c. &c. &c.--Mr. Bowles's sensibility in denying his
"sensitiveness to criticism" proves, perhaps, too much. But if he has
been so charged, and truly--what then? There is no moral turpitude in
such acuteness of feeling: it has been, and may be, combined with
many good and great qualities. Is Mr. Bowles a poet, or is he not? If
he be, he must, from his very essence, be sensitive to criticism; and
even if he be not, he need not be ashamed of the common repugnance to
being attacked. All that is to be wished is, that he had considered
how disagreeable a thing it is, before he assailed the greatest moral
poet of any age, or in any language.
Pope himself "sleeps well,"--nothing can touch him further; but those
who love the honour of their country, the perfection of her
literature, the glory of her language--are not to be expected to
permit an atom of his dust to be stirred in his tomb, or a leaf to be
stripped from the laurel which grows over it.
Mr. Bowles assigns several reasons why and when "an author is
justified in appealing to every _upright_ and _honourable_ mind in
the kingdom." If Mr. Bowles limits the perusal of his defence to the
"upright and honourable" only, I greatly fear that it will not be
extensively circulated. I should rather hope that some of the
downright and dishonest will read and be converted, or convicted. But
the whole of his reasoning is here superfluous--"_an author is
justified in appealing_," &c. when and why he pleases. Let him make
out a tolerable case, and few of his readers will quarrel with his
motives.
Mr. Bowles "will now plainly set before the literary public all the
circumstances which have led to _his name_ and Mr. Gilchrist's being
brought together," &c. Courtesy requires, in speaking of others and
ourselves, that we should place the name of the former first--and not
"_Ego_ et Rex meus." Mr. Bowles should have written "Mr. Gilchrist's
name and his."
This point he wishes "particularly to address to those _most
respectable characters_, who have the direction and management of the
periodical critical press." That the press may be, in some instances,
conducted by respectable characters is probable enough; but if they
are so, there is no occasion to tell them of it; and if they are not,
it is a base adulation. In either case, it looks like a kind of
flattery, by which those gentry are not very likely to be softened;
since it would be difficult to find two passages in fifteen pages
more at variance, than Mr. Bowles's prose at the beginning of this
pamphlet, and his verse at the end of it. In page 4. he speaks of
"those most respectable characters who have the direction, &c. of the
periodical press," and in page 10. we find--
"Ye _dark inquisitors_, a monk-like band,
Who o'er some shrinking victim-author stand,
A solemn, secret, and _vindictive brand,
Only_ terrific in your cowl and hood."
And so on--to "bloody law" and "red scourges," with other similar
phrases, which may not be altogether agreeable to the above-mentioned
"most respectable characters." Mr. Bowles goes on, "I concluded my
observations in the last Pamphleteer with feelings _not unkind_
towards Mr. Gilchrist, or" [it should be _nor_] "to the author of the
review of Spence, be he whom he might."--"I was in hopes, _as I have
always been ready to admit any errors_ I might have been led into, or
prejudice I might have entertained, that even Mr. Gilchrist might be
disposed to a more _amicable_ mode of discussing what I had advanced
in regard to Pope's moral character." As Major Sturgeon observes,
"There never was a set of more _amicable_ officers--with the
exception of a boxing-bout between Captain Shears and the Colonel."
A page and a half--nay only a page before--Mr. Bowles re-affirms his
conviction, that "what he has said of Pope's moral character is
_(generally speaking) true,_ and that his "poetical principles are
_invariable_ and _invulnerable_." He has also published three
pamphlets,--ay, four of the same tenour,--and yet, with this
declaration and these declamations staring him and his adversaries in
the face, he speaks of his "readiness to admit errors or to abandon
prejudices!!!" His use of the word "amicable" reminds me of the Irish
Institution (which I have somewhere heard or read of) called the
"_Friendly_ Society," where the president always carried pistols in
his pocket, so that when one amicable gentleman knocked down another,
the difference might be adjusted on the spot, at the harmonious
distance of twelve paces.
But Mr. Bowles "has since read a publication by him (Mr. Gilchrist)
containing such vulgar slander, affecting private life and
character," &c. &c.; and Mr. Gilchrist has also had the advantage of
reading a publication by Mr. Bowles sufficiently imbued with
personality; for one of the first and principal topics of reproach is
that he is a _grocer_, that he has a "pipe in his mouth, ledger-book,
green canisters, dingy shop-boy, half a hogshead of brown treacle,"
&c. Nay, the same delicate raillery is upon the very title-page. When
controversy has once commenced upon this footing, as Dr. Johnson said
to Dr. Percy, "Sir, there is an end of politeness--we are to be as
rude as we please--Sir, you said that I was _short-sighted_." As a
man's profession is generally no more in his own power than his
person--both having been made out for him--it is hard that he should
be reproached with either, and still more that an honest calling
should be made a reproach. If there is any thing more honourable to
Mr. Gilchrist than another it is, that being engaged in commerce he
has had the taste, and found the leisure, to become so able a
proficient in the higher literature of his own and other countries.
Mr. Bowles, who will be proud to own Glover, Chatterton, Burns, and
Bloomfleld for his peers, should hardly have quarrelled with Mr.
Gilchrist for his critic. Mr. Gilchrist's station, however, which
might conduct him to the highest civic honours, and to boundless
wealth, has nothing to require apology; but even if it had, such a
reproach was not very gracious on the part of a clergyman, nor
graceful on that of a gentleman. The allusion to "_Christian_
criticism" is not particularly happy, especially where Mr. Gilchrist
is accused of having "_set the first example of this mode in
Europe_." What _Pagan_ criticism may have been we know but little;
the names of Zoilus and Aristarchus survive, and the works of
Aristotle, Longinus, and Quintilian: but of "Christian criticism" we
have already had some specimens in the works of Philelphus, Poggius,
Scaliger, Milton, Salmasius, the Cruscanti (versus Tasso), the French
Academy (against the Cid), and the antagonists of Voltaire and of
Pope--to say nothing of some articles in most of the reviews, since
their earliest institution in the person of their respectable and
still prolific parent, "The Monthly." Why, then, is Mr. Gilchrist to
be singled out "as having set the first example?" A sole page of
Milton or Salmasius contains more abuse--rank, rancorous,
_unleavened_ abuse--than all that can be raked forth from the whole
works of many recent critics. There are some, indeed, who still keep
up the good old custom; but fewer English than foreign. It is a pity
that Mr. Bowles cannot witness some of the Italian controversies, or
become the subject of one. He would then look upon Mr. Gilchrist as a
panegyrist.
In the long sentence quoted from the article in "The London
Magazine," there is one coarse image, the justice of whose
application I shall not pretend to determine:--"The pruriency with
which his nose is laid to the ground" is an expression which, whether
founded or not, might have been omitted. But the "anatomical
minuteness" appears to me justified even by Mr. Bowles's own
subsequent quotation. To the point:--"_Many facts_ tend to prove the
peculiar susceptibility of his passions; nor can we implicitly
believe that the connexion between him and Martha Blount was of a
nature so pure and innocent as his panegyrist Ruffhead would have us
believe," &c.--"At _no time_ could she have regarded _Pope
personally_ with attachment," &c.--"But the most extraordinary
circumstance in regard to his connexion with female society, was the
strange mixture of _indecent_ and even _profane_ levity which his
conduct and language often exhibited. The cause of this particularity
may be sought, perhaps, in his consciousness of physical defect,
which made him affect a character uncongenial, and a language
opposite to the truth."--If this is not "minute moral anatomy," I
should be glad to know what is! It is dissection in all its branches.
I shall, however, hazard a remark or two upon this quotation.
To me it appears of no very great consequence whether Martha Blount
was or was not Pope's mistress, though I could have wished him a
better. She appears to have been a cold-hearted, interested,
ignorant, disagreeable woman, upon whom the tenderness of Pope's
heart in the desolation of his latter days was cast away, not knowing
whither to turn as he drew towards his premature old age, childless
and lonely,--like the needle which, approaching within a certain
distance of the pole, becomes helpless and useless, and, ceasing to
tremble, rusts. She seems to have been so totally unworthy of
tenderness, that it is an additional proof of the kindness of Pope's
heart to have been able to love such a being. But we must love
something. I agree with Mr. B. that _she_ "could at no time have
regarded _Pope personally_ with attachment," because she was
incapable of attachment; but I deny that Pope could not be regarded
with personal attachment by a worthier woman. It is not probable,
indeed, that a woman would have fallen in love with him as he walked
along the Mall, or in a box at the opera, nor from a balcony, nor in
a ball-room; but in society he seems to have been as amiable as
unassuming, and, with the greatest disadvantages of figure, his head
and face were remarkably handsome, especially his eyes. He was adored
by his friends--friends of the most opposite dispositions, ages, and
talents--by the old and wayward Wycherley, by the cynical Swift, the
rough Atterbury, the gentle Spence, the stern attorney-bishop
Warburton, the virtuous Berkeley, and the "cankered Bolingbroke."
Bolingbroke wept over him like a child; and Spence's description of
his last moments is at least as edifying as the more ostentatious
account of the deathbed of Addison. The soldier Peterborough and the
poet Gay, the witty Congreve and the laughing Rowe, the eccentric
Cromwell and the steady Bathurst, were all his intimates. The man who
could conciliate so many men of the most opposite description, not
one of whom but was a remarkable or a celebrated character, might
well have pretended to all the attachment which a reasonable man
would desire of an amiable woman.
Pope, in fact, wherever he got it, appears to have understood the sex
well, Bolingbroke, "a judge of the subject," says Warton, thought his
"Epistle on the Characters of Women" his "masterpiece." And even with
respect to the grosser passion, which takes occasionally the name of
"_romantic_," accordingly as the degree of sentiment elevates it
above the definition of love by Buffon, it may be remarked, that it
does not always depend upon personal appearance, even in a woman.
Madame Cottin was a plain woman, and might have been virtuous, it may
be presumed, without much interruption. Virtuous she was, and the
consequences of this inveterate virtue were that two different
admirers (one an elderly gentleman) killed themselves in despair (see
Lady Morgan's "France"). I would not, however, recommend this rigour
to plain women in general, in the hope of securing the glory of two
suicides apiece. I believe that there are few men who, in the course
of their observations on life, may not have perceived that it is not
the greatest female beauty who forms the longest and the strongest
passions.
But, apropos of Pope.--Voltaire tells us that the Marechal Luxembourg
(who had precisely Pope's figure) was not only somewhat too amatory
for a great man, but fortunate in his attachments. La Valière, the
passion of Louis XIV., had an unsightly defect. The Princess of
Eboli, the mistress of Philip II. of Spain, and Maugiron, the minion
of Henry III. of France, had each of them lost an eye; and the famous
Latin epigram was written upon them, which has, I believe, been
either translated or imitated by Goldsmith:--
"Lumine Acon dextro, capta est Leonilla sinistro,
Et potis est forma vincere uterque Deos;
Blande puer, lumen quod habes concede sorrori,
Sic tu cæcus Amor, sic erit illa Venus."
Wilkes, with his ugliness, used to say that "he was but a quarter of
an hour behind the handsomest man in England;" and this vaunt of his
is said not to have been disproved by circumstances. Swift, when
neither young, nor handsome, nor rich, nor even amiable, inspired the
two most extraordinary passions upon record, Vanessa's and Stella's.
"Vanessa, aged scarce a score,
Sighs for a gown of _forty-four_."
He requited them bitterly; for he seems to have broken the heart of
the one, and worn out that of the other; and he had his reward, for
he died a solitary idiot in the hands of servants.
For my own part, I am of the opinion of Pausanias. that success in
love depends upon Fortune. "They particularly renounce Celestial
Venus, into whose temple, &c. &c. &c. I remember, too, to have seen a
building in Ægina in which there is a statue of Fortune, holding a
horn of Amalthea; and near her there is a winged Love. The meaning of
this is, that the success of men in love affairs depends more on the
assistance of Fortune than the charms of beauty. I am persuaded, too,
with Pindar (to whose opinion I submit in other particulars), that
Fortune is one of the Fates, and that in a certain respect she is
more powerful than her sisters."--See Pausanias, Achaics, book vii.
chap.26. p.246. Taylor's "Translation."
Grimm has a remark of the same kind on the different destinies of the
younger Crebillon and Rousseau. The former writes a licentious novel,
and a young English girl of some fortune and family (a Miss
Strafford) runs away, and crosses the sea to marry him; while
Rousseau, the most tender and passionate of lovers, is obliged to
espouse his chambermaid. If I recollect rightly, this remark was also
repeated in the Edinburgh Review of Grimm's correspondence, seven or
eight years ago.
In regard "to the strange mixture of indecent, and sometimes
_profane_ levity, which his conduct and language _often_ exhibited,"
and which so much shocks Mr. Bowles, I object to the indefinite word
"_often_;" and in extenuation of the occasional occurrence of such
language it is to be recollected, that it was less the tone of
_Pope_, than the tone of the _time_. With the exception of the
correspondence of Pope and his friends, not many private letters of
the period have come down to us; but those, such as they are--a few
scattered scraps from Farquhar and others--are more indecent and
coarse than any thing in Pope's letters. The comedies of Congreve,
Vanbrugh, Farquhar, Cibber, &c., which naturally attempted to
represent the manners and conversation of private life, are decisive
upon this point; as are also some of Steele's papers, and even
Addison's. We all know what the conversation of Sir R. Walpole, for
seventeen years the prime minister of the country, was at his own
table, and his excuse for his licentious language, viz. "that every
body understood _that_, but few could talk rationally upon less
common topics." The refinement of latter days,--which is perhaps the
consequence of vice, which wishes to mask and soften itself, as much
as of virtuous civilisation,--had not yet made sufficient progress.
Even Johnson, in his "London," has two or three passages which cannot
be read aloud, and Addison's "Drummer" some indelicate allusions.
The expression of Mr. Bowles, "his consciousness of physical defect,"
is not very clear. It may mean deformity or debility. If it alludes
to Pope's deformity, it has been attempted to be shown that this was
no insuperable objection to his being beloved. If it alludes to
debility, as a consequence of Pope's peculiar conformation, I believe
that it is a physical and known fact that hump-backed persons are of
strong and vigorous passions. Several years ago, at Mr. Angelo's
fencing rooms, when I was a pupil of him and of Mr. Jackson, who had
the use of his rooms in Albany on the alternate days, I recollect a
gentleman named B--ll--gh--t, remarkable for his strength, and the
fineness of his figure. His skill was not inferior, for he could
stand up to the great Captain Barclay himself, with the muffles
on;--a task neither easy nor agreeable to a pugilistic aspirant. As
the by-standers were one day admiring his athletic proportions, he
remarked to us, that he had five brothers as tall and strong as
himself, and that their _father and mother were both crooked, and of
very small stature_;--I think he said, neither of them five feet
high. It would not be difficult to adduce similar instances; but I
abstain, because the subject is hardly refined enough for this
immaculate period, this moral millenium of expurgated editions in
books, manners, and royal trials of divorce.
This laudable delicacy--this crying-out elegance of the day--reminds
me of a little circumstance which occurred when I was about eighteen
years of age. There was then (and there may be still) a famous French
"entremetteuse," who assisted young gentlemen in their youthful
pastimes. We had been acquainted for some time, when something
occurred in her line of business more than ordinary, and the refusal
was offered to me (and doubtless to many others), probably because I
was in cash at the moment, having taken up a decent sum from the
Jews, and not having spent much above half of it. The adventure on
the tapis, it seems, required some caution and circumspection.
Whether my venerable friend doubted my politeness I cannot tell; but
she sent me a letter couched in such English as a short residence of
sixteen years in England had enabled her to acquire. After several
precepts and instructions, the letter closed. But there was a
postscript. It contained these words:--"Remember, Milor, that
_delicaci ensure_ everi succés." The _delicacy_ of the day is
exactly, in all its circumstances, like that of this respectable
foreigner. "It ensures every _succès_," and is not a whit more moral
than, and not half so honourable as, the coarser candour of our less
polished ancestors.
To return to Mr. Bowles. "If what is here extracted can excite in the
mind (I will not say of any 'layman', of any 'Christian', but) of any
_human being_," &c. &c. Is not Mr. Gilchrist a "human being?" Mr.
Bowles asks "whether in _attributing_ an article," &c. &c, "to the
critic, he had _any reason_ for distinguishing him with that
courtesy," &c. &c. But Mr. Bowles was wrong in "attributing the
article" to Mr. Gilchrist at all; and would not have been right in
calling him a dunce and a grocer, if he had written it.
Mr. Bowles is here "peremptorily called upon to speak of a
circumstance which gives him the greatest pain,--the mention of a
letter he received from the editor of 'The London Magazine.'" Mr.
Bowles seems to have embroiled himself on all sides; whether by
editing, or replying, or attributing, or quoting,--it has been an
awkward affair for him.
Poor Scott is now no more. In the exercise of his vocation, he
contrived at last to make himself the subject of a coroner's inquest.
But he died like a brave man, and he lived an able one. I knew him
personally, though slightly. Although several years my senior, we had
been schoolfellows together at the "grammar-schule" (or, as the
Aberdonians pronounce it, "_squeel_") of New Aberdeen. He did not
behave to me quite handsomely in his capacity of editor a few years
ago, but he was under no obligation to behave otherwise. The moment
was too tempting for many friends and for all enemies. At a time when
all my relations (save one) fell from me like leaves from the tree in
autumn winds, and my few friends became still fewer,--when the whole
periodical press (I mean the daily and weekly, _not_ the _literary_
press) was let loose against me in every shape of reproach, with the
two strange exceptions (from their usual opposition) of "The Courier"
and "The Examiner,"--the paper of which Scott had the direction was
neither the last nor the least vituperative. Two years ago I met him
at Venice, when he was bowed in griefs by the loss of his son, and
had known, by experience, the bitterness of domestic privation. He
was then earnest with me to return to England; and on my telling him,
with a smile, that he was once of a different opinion, he replied to
me, 'that he and others had been greatly misled; and that some pains,
and rather extraordinary means, had been taken to excite them.' Scott
is no more, but there are more than one living who were present at
this dialogue. He was a man of very considerable talents, and of
great acquirements. He had made his way, as a literary character,
with high success, and in a few years. Poor fellow! I recollect his
joy at some appointment which he had obtained, or was to obtain,
through Sir James Mackintosh, and which prevented the further
extension (unless by a rapid run to Rome) of his travels in Italy. I
little thought to what it would conduct him. Peace be with him!--and
may all such other faults as are inevitable to humanity be as readily
forgiven him, as the little injury which he had done to one who
respected his talents, and regrets his loss.
I pass over Mr. Bowles's page of explanation, upon the correspondence
between him and Mr. S----. It is of little importance in regard to
Pope, and contains merely a re-contradiction of a contradiction of
Mr. Gilchrist's. We now come to a point where Mr. Gilchrist has,
certainly, rather exaggerated matters; and, of course, Mr. Bowles
makes the most of it. Capital letters, like Kean's name, "large upon
the bills," are made use of six or seven times to express his sense
of the outrage. The charge is, indeed, very boldly made; but, like
"Ranold of the Mist's" practical joke of putting the bread and cheese
into a dead man's mouth, is, as Dugald Dalgetty says, "somewhat too
wild and salvage, besides wasting the good victuals."
Mr. Gilchrist charges Mr. Bowles with "suggesting" that Pope
"attempted" to commit "a rape" upon Lady M. Wortley Montague. There
are two reasons why this could not be true. The first is, that like
the chaste Letitia's prevention of the intended ravishment by
Fireblood (in Jonathan Wild), it might have been impeded by a timely
compliance. The second is, that however this might be, Pope was
probably the less robust of the two; and (if the Lines on Sappho were
really intended for this lady) the asserted consequences of her
acquiescence in his wishes would have been a sufficient punishment.
The passage which Mr. Bowles quotes, however, insinuates nothing of
the kind: it merely charges her with encouragement, and him with
wishing to profit by it,--a slight attempt at seduction, and no more.
The phrase is, "a step beyond decorum." Any physical violence is so
abhorrent to human nature, that it recoils in cold blood from the
very idea. But, the seduction of a woman's mind as well as person is
not, perhaps, the least heinous sin of the two in morality. Dr.
Johnson commends a gentleman who having seduced a girl who said, "I
am afraid we have done wrong," replied, "Yes, we _have_ done
wrong,"--"for I would not _pervert_ her mind also." Othello would not
"kill Desdemona's _soul_." Mr. Bowles exculpates himself from Mr.
Gilchrist's charge; but it is by substituting another charge against
Pope. "A step beyond decorum," has a soft sound, but what does it
express? In all these cases, "ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute."
Has not the Scripture something upon "the lusting after a woman"
being no less criminal than the crime? "A step beyond decorum," in
short, any step beyond the instep, is a step from a precipice to the
lady who permits it. For the gentleman who makes it it is also rather
hazardous if he does not succeed, and still more so if he does.
Mr. Bowles appeals to the "Christian reader!" upon this
"_Gilchristian_ criticism." Is not this play upon such words "a step
beyond decorum" in a clergyman? But I admit the temptation of a pun
to be irresistible.
But "a hasty pamphlet was published, in which some personalities
respecting Mr. Gilchrist were suffered to appear." If Mr. Bowles will
write "hasty pamphlets," why is he so surprised on receiving short
answers? The grand grievance to which he perpetually returns is a
charge of "_hypochondriacism_," asserted or insinuated in the
Quarterly. I cannot conceive a man in perfect health being much
affected by such a charge, because his complexion and conduct must
amply refute it. But were it true, to what does it amount?--to an
impeachment of a liver complaint. "I will tell it to the world,"
exclaimed the learned Smelfungus.--"You had better," said I, "tell it
to your physician." There is nothing dishonourable in such a
disorder, which is more peculiarly the malady of students. It has
been the complaint of the good, and the wise, and the witty, and even
of the gay. Regnard, the author of the last French comedy after
Molière, was atrabilious; and Molière himself, saturnine. Dr.
Johnson, Gray, and Burns, were all more or less affected by it
occasionally. It was the prelude to the more awful malady of Collins,
Cowper, Swift, and Smart; but it by no means follows that a partial
affliction of this disorder is to terminate like theirs. But even
were it so,--
"Nor best, nor wisest, are exempt from thee;
Folly--Folly's only free." PENROSE.
If this be the criterion of exemption, Mr. Bowles's last two
pamphlets form a better certificate of sanity than a physician's.
Mendehlson and Bayle were at times so overcome with this depression,
as to be obliged to recur to seeing "puppet-shows, and counting tiles
upon the opposite houses," to divert themselves. Dr. Johnson at times
"would have given a limb to recover his spirits." Mr. Bowles, who is
(strange to say) fond of quoting Pope, may perhaps answer,--
"Go on, obliging creatures, let me see
All which disgrac'd my betters met in me."
But the charge, such as it is, neither disgraces them nor him. It is
easily disproved if false; and even if proved true, has nothing in it
to make a man so very indignant. Mr. Bowles himself appears to be a
little ashamed of his "hasty pamphlet;" for he attempts to excuse it
by the "great provocation;" that is to say, by Mr. Bowles's supposing
that Mr. Gilchrist was the writer of the article in the Quarterly,
which he was _not_.
"But, in extenuation, not only the _great_ provocation should be
remembered, but it ought to be said, that orders were sent to the
London booksellers, that the most direct personal passages should be
_omitted entirely_," &c. This is what the proverb calls "breaking a
head and giving a plaster;" but, in this instance, the plaster was
not spread in time, and Mr. Gilchrist does not seem at present
disposed to regard Mr. Bowles's courtesies like the rust of the spear
of Achilles, which had such "skill in surgery."
But "Mr. Gilchrist has _no right_ to object, as the reader will see."
I am a reader, a "gentle reader," and I see nothing of the kind. Were
I in Mr. Gilchrist's place, I should object exceedingly to being
abused; firstly, for what I _did_ write, and, secondly, for what I
did _not_ write; merely because it is Mr. Bowles's will and pleasure
to be as angry with me for having written in the London Magazine, as
for not having written in the Quarterly Review.
"Mr. Gilchrist has had ample revenge; for he has, in his answer, said
so and so," &c. &c. There is no great revenge in all this; and I
presume that nobody either seeks or wishes it. What revenge? Mr.
Bowles calls names, and he is answered. But Mr. Gilchrist and the
Quarterly Reviewer are not poets, nor pretenders to poetry; therefore
they can have no envy nor malice against Mr. Bowles: they have no
acquaintance with Mr. Bowles, and can have no personal pique; they do
not cross his path of life, nor he theirs. There is no political feud
between them. What, then, can be the motive of their discussion of
his deserts as an editor?--veneration for the genius of Pope, love
for his memory, and regard for the classic glory of their country.
Why would Mr. Bowles edite? Had he limited his honest endeavours to
poetry, very little would have been said upon the subject, and
nothing at all by his present antagonists.
Mr. Bowles calls the pamphlet a "mud-cart," and the writer a
"scavenger." Afterward he asks, "Shall he fling dirt and receive
_rose-water_?" This metaphor, by the way, is taken from Marmontel's
Memoirs; who, lamenting to Chamfort the shedding of blood during the
French revolution, was answered, "Do you think that revolutions are
to be made with _rose-water_?"
For my own part, I presume that "rose-water" would be infinitely more
graceful in the hands of Mr. Bowles than the substance which he has
substituted for that delicate liquid. It would also more confound his
adversary, supposing him a "scavenger." I remember, (and do you
remember, reader, that it was in my earliest youth, "Consule
Planco,")--on the morning of the great battle, (the second)--between
Gulley and Gregson,--_Cribb_, who was matched against Horton for the
second fight, on the same memorable day, awaking me (a lodger at the
inn in the next room) by a loud remonstrance to the waiter against
the abomination of his towels, which had been laid in _lavender_.
Cribb was a coal-heaver--and was much more discomfited by this
odoriferous effeminacy of fine linen, than by his adversary Horton,
whom, he "finished in style," though with some reluctance; for I
recollect that he said, "he disliked hurting him, he looked so
pretty,"--Horton being a very fine fresh-coloured young man.
To return to "rose-water"--that is, to gentle means of rebuke. Does
Mr. Bowles know how to revenge himself upon a hackney-coachman, when
he has overcharged his fare? In case he should not, I will tell him.
It is of little use to call him "a rascal, a scoundrel, a thief, an
impostor, a blackguard, a villain, a raggamuffin, a--what you
please;" all that he is used to--it is his mother-tongue, and
probably his mother's. But look him steadily and quietly in the face,
and say--"Upon my word, I think you are the _ugliest fellow_ I ever
saw in my life," and he will instantly roll forth the brazen thunders
of the charioteer Salmoneus as follows:--"_Hugly_! what the h--ll are
_you_? _You_ a _gentleman_! Why ----!" So much easier it is to
_provoke_--and therefore to vindicate--(for passion punishes him who
_feels_ it more than those whom the passionate would excruciate)--by
a few quiet words the aggressor, than by retorting violently. The
"coals of fire" of the Scripture are _benefits_;--but they are not
the less "coals of _fire_."
I pass over a page of quotation and reprobation--"Sin up to my
song"--"Oh let my little bark"--"Arcades ambo"--"Writer in the
Quarterly Review and himself"--"In-door avocations, indeed"--"King of
Brentford"--"One nosegay"--"Perennial nosegay"--"Oh Juvenes,"--and
the like.
Page 12. produces "more reasons,"--(the task ought not to have been
difficult, for as yet there were none)--"to show why Mr. Bowles
attributed the critique in the Quarterly to Octavius Gilchrist." All
these "reasons" consist of _surmises_ of Mr. Bowles, upon the
presumed character of his opponent. "He did not suppose there could
exist a man in the kingdom so _impudent_, &c. &c. except Octavius
Gilchrist."--"He did not think there was a man in the kingdom who
would _pretend ignorance_, &c. &c. except Octavius Gilchrist."--"He
did not conceive that one man in the kingdom would utter such stupid
flippancy, &c. &c. except Octavius Gilchrist."--"He did not think
there was one man in the kingdom who, &c. &c. could so utterly show
his ignorance, _combined with conceit_, &c. as Octavius
Gilchrist."--"He did not believe there was a man in the kingdom so
perfect in Mr. Gilchrist's 'old lunes,'" &c. &c.--"He did not think
the _mean mind_ of any one in the kingdom," &c. and so on; always
beginning with "any one in the kingdom," and ending with "Octavius
Gilchrist," like the word in a catch. I am not "in the kingdom," and
have not been much in the kingdom since I was one and twenty, (about
five years in the whole, since I was of age,) and have no desire to
be in the kingdom again, whilst I breathe, nor to sleep there
afterwards; and I regret nothing more than having ever been "in the
kingdom" at all. But though no longer a man "in the kingdom," let me
hope that when I have ceased to exist, it may be said, as was
answered by the master of Clanronald's henchman, his day after the
battle of Sheriff-Muir, when he was found watching his chief's body.
He was asked, "who that was?" he replied--"it was a man yesterday."
And in this capacity, "in or out of the kingdom," I must own that I
participate in many of the objections urged by Mr. Gilchrist. I
participate in his love of Pope, and in his not understanding, and
occasionally finding fault with, the last editor of our last truly
great poet.
One of the reproaches against Mr. Gilchrist is, that he is (it is
sneeringly said) an F. S. _A_. If it will give Mr. Bowles any
pleasure, I am not an F. S. A. but a Fellow of the Royal Society at
his service, in case there should be any thing in that association
also which may point a paragraph.
"There are some other reasons," but "the author is now _not_
unknown." Mr. Bowles has so totally exhausted himself upon Octavius
Gilchrist, that he has not a word left for the real quarterer of his
edition, although now "deterré."
The following page refers to a mysterious charge of "duplicity, in
regard to the publication of Pope's letters." Till this charge is
made in proper form, we have nothing to do with it: Mr. Gilchrist
hints it--Mr. Bowles denies it; there it rests for the present. Mr.
Bowles professes his dislike to "Pope's duplicity, _not_ to Pope"--a
distinction apparently without a difference. However, I believe that
I understand him. We have a great dislike to Mr. Bowles's edition of
Pope, but _not_ to Mr. Bowles; nevertheless, he takes up the subject
as warmly as if it was personal. With regard to the fact of "Pope's
duplicity," it remains to be proved--like Mr. Bowles's benevolence
towards his memory.
In page 14. we have a large assertion, that "the 'Eloisa' alone is
sufficient to convict him of _gross licentiousness_." Thus, out it
comes at last. Mr. Bowles _does_ accuse Pope of "_gross_
licentiousness," and grounds the charge upon a poem. The
_licentiousness_ is a "grand peut-être," according to the turn of the
times being. The grossness I deny. On the contrary, I do believe that
such a subject never was, nor ever could be, treated by any poet with
so much delicacy, mingled with, at the same time, such true and
intense passion. Is the "Atys" of Catullus _licentious_? No, nor even
gross; and yet Catullus is often a coarse writer. The subject is
nearly the same, except that Atys was the suicide of his manhood, and
Abelard the victim.
The "licentiousness" of the story was _not_ Pope's,--it was a fact.
All that it had of gross, he has softened;--all that it had of
indelicate, he has purified;--all that it had of passionate, he has
beautified;--all that it had of holy, he has hallowed. Mr. Campbell
has admirably marked this in a few words (I quote from memory), in
drawing the distinction between Pope and Dryden, and pointing out
where Dryden was wanting "I fear," says he, "that had the subject of
'Eloisa' fallen into his (Dryden's) hands, that he would have given
us but a _coarse_ draft of her passion." Never was the delicacy of
Pope so much shown as in this poem. With the facts and the letters of
"Eloisa" he has done what no other mind but that of the best and
purest of poets could have accomplished with such materials. Ovid,
Sappho (in the Ode called hers)--all that we have of ancient, all
that we have of modern poetry, sinks into nothing compared with him
in this production.
Let us hear no more of this trash about "licentiousness." Is not
"Anacreon" taught in our schools?--translated, praised, and edited?
Are not his Odes the amatory praises of a boy? Is not Sappho's Ode on
a girl? Is not this sublime and (according to Longinus) fierce love
for one of her own sex? And is not Phillips's translation of it in
the mouths of all your women? And are the English schools or the
English women the more corrupt for all this? When you have thrown the
ancients into the fire it will be time to denounce the moderns.
"Licentiousness!"--there is more real mischief and sapping
licentiousness in a single French prose novel, in a Moravian hymn, or
a German comedy, than in all the actual poetry that ever was penned,
or poured forth, since the rhapsodies of Orpheus. The sentimental
anatomy of Rousseau and Mad. de S. are far more formidable than any
quantity of verse. They are so, because they sap the principles, by
_reasoning_ upon the _passions_; whereas poetry is in itself passion,
and does not systematise. It assails, but does not argue; it may be
wrong, but it does not assume pretensions to Optimism.
Mr. Bowles now has the goodness "to point out the difference between
a _traducer_ and him who sincerely states what he sincerely
believes." He might have spared himself the trouble. The one is a
liar, who lies knowingly; the other (I speak of a scandal-monger of
course) lies, charitably believing that he speaks truth, and very
sorry to find himself in falsehood;--because he
"Would rather that the dean should die,
Than his prediction prove a lie."
After a definition of a "traducer," which was quite superfluous
(though it is agreeable to learn that Mr. Bowles so well understands
the character), we are assured, that "he feels equally indifferent,
Mr. Gilchrist, for what your malice can invent, or your impudence
utter." This is indubitable; for it rests not only on Mr. Bowles's
assurance, but on that of Sir Fretful Plagiary, and nearly in the
same words,--"and I shall treat it with exactly the same calm
indifference and philosophical contempt, and so your servant."
"One thing has given Mr. Bowles concern." It is "a passage which
might seem to reflect on the patronage a young man has received."
MIGHT seem!! The passage alluded to expresses, that if Mr. Gilchrist
be the reviewer of "a certain poet of nature," his praise and blame
are equally contemptible."--Mr. Bowles, who has a peculiarly
ambiguous style, where it suits him, comes off with a "_not_ to the
_poet_, but the critic," &c. In my humble opinion, the passage
referred to both. Had Mr. Bowles really meant fairly, he would have
said so from the first--he would have been eagerly transparent.--"A
certain poet of nature" is not the style of commendation. It is the
very prologue to the most scandalous paragraphs of the newspapers,
when
"Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike."
"A certain high personage,"--"a certain peeress,"--"a certain
illustrious foreigner,"--what do these words ever precede, but
defamation? Had he felt a spark of kindling kindness for John Clare,
he would have named him. There is a sneer in the sentence as it
stands. How a favourable review of a deserving poet can "rather
injure than promote his cause" is difficult to comprehend. The
article denounced is able and amiable, and it _has_ "served" the
poet, as far as poetry can be served by judicious and honest
criticism.
With the two next paragraphs of Mr. Bowles's pamphlet it is pleasing
to concur. His mention of "Pennie," and his former patronage of
"Shoel," do him honour. I am not of those who may deny Mr. Bowles to
be a benevolent man. I merely assert, that he is not a candid editor.
Mr. Bowles has been "a writer occasionally upwards of thirty years,"
and never wrote one word in reply in his life "to criticisms, merely
_as_ criticisms." This is Mr. Lofty in Goldsmith's Good-natured Man;
"and I vow by all that's honourable, my resentment has never done the
men, as mere men, any manner of harm,--that is, _as mere men_."
"The letter to the editor of the newspaper" is owned; but "it was not
on account of the criticism. It was because the criticism came down
in a frank _directed_ to Mrs. Bowles!!!"--(the italics and three
notes of admiration appended to Mrs. Bowles are copied verbatim from
the quotation), and Mr. Bowles was not displeased with the criticism,
but with the frank and the address. I agree with Mr. Bowles that the
intention was to annoy him; but I fear that this was answered by his
notice of the reception of the criticism. An anonymous letter-writer
has but one means of knowing the effect of his attack. In this he has
the superiority over the viper; he knows that his poison has taken
effect, when he hears the victim cry;--the adder is _deaf_. The best
reply to an anonymous intimation is to take no notice directly nor
indirectly. I wish Mr. Bowles could see only one or two of the
thousand which I have received in the course of a literary life,
which, though begun early, has not yet extended to a third part of
his existence as an author. I speak of _literary_ life only. Were I
to add _personal_, I might double the amount of _anonymous_ letters.
If he could but see the violence, the threats, the absurdity of the
whole thing, he would laugh, and so should I, and thus be both
gainers.
To keep up the farce,--within the last month of this present writing
(1821), I have had my life threatened in the same way which menaced
Mr. Bowles's fame,--excepting that the anonymous denunciation was
addressed to the Cardinal Legate of Romagna, instead of to Mrs.
Bowles. The Cardinal is, I believe, the elder lady of the two. I
append the menace in all its barbaric but literal Italian, that Mr.
Bowles may be convinced; and as this is the only "promise to pay,"
which the Italians ever keep, so my person has been at least as much
exposed to a "shot in the gloaming," from "John Heatherblutter" (see
Waverley), as ever Mr. Bowles's glory was from an editor. I am,
nevertheless, on horseback and lonely for some hours (_one_ of them
twilight) in the forest daily; and this, because it was my "custom in
the afternoon," and that I believe if the tyrant cannot escape amidst
his guards (should it be so written?), so the humbler individual
would find precautions useless.
Mr. Bowles has here the humility to say, that "he must succumb; for
with Lord Byron turned against him, he has no chance,"--a declaration
of self-denial not much in unison with his "promise," five lines
afterwards, that "for every twenty-four lines quoted by Mr.
Gilchrist, or his friend, to greet him with as many from the
'Gilchrisiad';" but so much the better. Mr. Bowles has no reason to
"succumb" but to Mr. Bowles. As a poet, the author of "The
Missionary" may compete with the foremost of his cotemporaries. Let
it be recollected, that all my previous opinions of Mr. Bowles's
poetry were _written_ long before the publication of his last and
best poem; and that a poet's _last_ poem should be his best, is his
highest praise. But, however, he may duly and honourably rank with
his living rivals. There never was so complete a proof of the
superiority of Pope, as in the lines with which Mr. Bowles closes his
"_to be concluded in our next_."
Mr. Bowles is avowedly the champion and the poet of nature. Art and
the arts are dragged, some before, and others behind his chariot.
Pope, where he deals with passion, and with the nature of the
naturals of the day, is allowed even by themselves to be sublime; but
they complain that too soon--
"He stoop'd to truth and moralised his song,"
and _there_ even _they_ allow him to be unrivalled. He has succeeded,
and even surpassed them, when he chose, in their own _pretended_
province. Let us see what their Coryphæus effects in Pope's. But it
is too pitiable, it is too melancholy, to see Mr. Bowles "_sinning_"
not "_up_" but "_down_" as a poet to his lowest depth as an editor.
By the way, Mr. Bowles is always quoting Pope. I grant that there is
no poet--not Shakspeare himself--who can be so often quoted, with
reference to life;--but his editor is so like the devil quoting
Scripture, that I could wish Mr. Bowles in his proper place, quoting
in the pulpit.
And now for his lines. But it is painful--painful--to see such a
suicide, though at the shrine of Pope. I can't copy them all:--
"Shall the rank, loathsome miscreant of the age
Sit, like a night-mare, grinning o'er a page."
"Whose pye-bald character so aptly suit
The two extremes of Bantam and of Brute,
Compound grotesque of sullenness and show,
The chattering magpie, and the croaking crow."
"Whose heart contends with thy Saturnian head,
A root of hemlock, and a lump of lead.
Gilchrist proceed," &c. &c.
"And thus stand forth, spite of thy venom'd foam,
To give thee _bite for bite_, or lash thee limping home."
With regard to the last line, the only one upon which I shall venture
for fear of infection, I would advise Mr. Gilchrist to keep out of
the way of such reciprocal morsure--unless he has more faith in the
"Ormskirk medicine" than most people, or may wish to anticipate the
pension of the recent German professor, (I forget his name, but it is
advertised and full of consonants,) who presented his memoir of an
infallible remedy for the hydrophobia to the German diet last month,
coupled with the philanthropic condition of a large annuity, provided
that his cure cured. Let him begin with the editor of Pope, and
double his demand.
Yours ever,