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Life of Lord Byron, Vol. 6 (of 6) by Thomas Moore

T >> Thomas Moore >> Life of Lord Byron, Vol. 6 (of 6)




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 Valiere, 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 caecus 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 AEgina 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 succes." The _delicacy_ of the day is
exactly, in all its circumstances, like that of this respectable
foreigner. "It ensures every _succes_," 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
Moliere, was atrabilious; and Moliere 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.

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