The
exceptions
to this statement are two, or possibly three, passages
which we know to have been written earlier and worked into the poem with
infinite art.
which we know to have been written earlier and worked into the poem with
infinite art.
Alexander Pope
Pope had good reason to fear that the malice of his
enemies might not be content to stop with abusive doggerel. But he was
not in the least intimidated. On the contrary, he broke out in a fine
flame of wrath against Lord Hervey, whom he evidently considered the
chief offender, challenged his enemy to disavow the 'Epistle', and on
his declining to do so, proceeded to make what he called "a proper
reply" in a prose 'Letter to a Noble Lord'. This masterly piece of
satire was passed about from hand to hand, but never printed. We are
told that Sir Robert Walpole, who found Hervey a convenient tool in
court intrigues, bribed Pope not to print it by securing a good position
in France for one of the priests who had watched over the poet's youth.
If this story be true, and we have Horace Walpole's authority for it, we
may well imagine that the entry of the bribe, like that of Uncle Toby's
oath, was blotted out by a tear from the books of the Recording Angel.
But Pope was by no means disposed to let the attacks go without an
answer of some kind, and the particular form which his answer took seems
to have been suggested by a letter from Arbuthnot. "I make it my last
request," wrote his beloved physician, now sinking fast under the
diseases that brought him to the grave, "that you continue that noble
disdain and abhorrence of vice, which you seem so naturally endued with,
but still with a due regard to your own safety; and study more to reform
than to chastise, though the one often cannot be effected without the
other. " "I took very kindly your advice," Pope replied, ". . . and it has
worked so much upon me considering the time and state you gave it in,
that I determined to address to you one of my epistles written by
piecemeal many years, and which I have now made haste to put together;
wherein the question is stated, what were, and are my motives of
writing, the objections to them, and my answers. " In other words, the
'Epistle to Arbuthnot' which we see that Pope was working over at the
date of this letter, August 25, 1734, was, in the old-fashioned phrase,
his 'Apologia', his defense of his life and work.
As usual, Pope's account of his work cannot be taken literally. A
comparison of dates shows that the 'Epistle' instead of having been
"written by piecemeal many years" is essentially the work of one
impulse, the desire to vindicate his character, his parents, and his
work from the aspersions cast upon them by Lord Hervey and Lady Mary.
The exceptions to this statement are two, or possibly three, passages
which we know to have been written earlier and worked into the poem with
infinite art.
The first of these is the famous portrait of Addison as Atticus. I have
already spoken of the reasons that led to Pope's breach with Addison
(Introduction, p. xv); and there is good reason to believe that this
portrait sprang directly from Pope's bitter feeling toward the elder
writer for his preference of Tickell's translation. The lines were
certainly written in Addison's lifetime, though we may be permitted to
doubt whether Pope really did send them to him, as he once asserted.
They did not appear in print, however, till four years after Addison's
death, when they were printed apparently without Pope's consent in a
volume of miscellanies. It is interesting to note that in this form the
full name "Addison" appeared in the last line. Some time later Pope
acknowledged the verses and printed them with a few changes in his
'Miscellany' of 1727, substituting the more decorous "A---n" for the
"Addison" of the first text. Finally he worked over the passage again
and inserted it, for a purpose that will be shown later, in the 'Epistle
to Arbuthnot'.
It is not worth while to discuss here the justice or injustice of this
famous portrait. In fact, the question hardly deserves to be raised. The
passage is admittedly a satire, and a satire makes no claim to be a just
and final sentence. Admitting, as we must, that Pope was in the wrong in
his quarrel with Addison, we may well admit that he has not done him
full justice. But we must equally admit that the picture is drawn with
wonderful skill, that praise and blame are deftly mingled, and that the
satire is all the more severe because of its frank admission of the
great man's merits. And it must also be said that Pope has hit off some
of the faults of Addison's character,--his coldness, his
self-complacency, his quiet sneer, his indulgence of flattering
fools--in a way that none of his biographers have done. That Pope was
not blind to Addison's chief merit as an author is fully shown by a
passage in a later poem, less well known than the portrait of Atticus,
but well worth quotation.
enemies might not be content to stop with abusive doggerel. But he was
not in the least intimidated. On the contrary, he broke out in a fine
flame of wrath against Lord Hervey, whom he evidently considered the
chief offender, challenged his enemy to disavow the 'Epistle', and on
his declining to do so, proceeded to make what he called "a proper
reply" in a prose 'Letter to a Noble Lord'. This masterly piece of
satire was passed about from hand to hand, but never printed. We are
told that Sir Robert Walpole, who found Hervey a convenient tool in
court intrigues, bribed Pope not to print it by securing a good position
in France for one of the priests who had watched over the poet's youth.
If this story be true, and we have Horace Walpole's authority for it, we
may well imagine that the entry of the bribe, like that of Uncle Toby's
oath, was blotted out by a tear from the books of the Recording Angel.
But Pope was by no means disposed to let the attacks go without an
answer of some kind, and the particular form which his answer took seems
to have been suggested by a letter from Arbuthnot. "I make it my last
request," wrote his beloved physician, now sinking fast under the
diseases that brought him to the grave, "that you continue that noble
disdain and abhorrence of vice, which you seem so naturally endued with,
but still with a due regard to your own safety; and study more to reform
than to chastise, though the one often cannot be effected without the
other. " "I took very kindly your advice," Pope replied, ". . . and it has
worked so much upon me considering the time and state you gave it in,
that I determined to address to you one of my epistles written by
piecemeal many years, and which I have now made haste to put together;
wherein the question is stated, what were, and are my motives of
writing, the objections to them, and my answers. " In other words, the
'Epistle to Arbuthnot' which we see that Pope was working over at the
date of this letter, August 25, 1734, was, in the old-fashioned phrase,
his 'Apologia', his defense of his life and work.
As usual, Pope's account of his work cannot be taken literally. A
comparison of dates shows that the 'Epistle' instead of having been
"written by piecemeal many years" is essentially the work of one
impulse, the desire to vindicate his character, his parents, and his
work from the aspersions cast upon them by Lord Hervey and Lady Mary.
The exceptions to this statement are two, or possibly three, passages
which we know to have been written earlier and worked into the poem with
infinite art.
The first of these is the famous portrait of Addison as Atticus. I have
already spoken of the reasons that led to Pope's breach with Addison
(Introduction, p. xv); and there is good reason to believe that this
portrait sprang directly from Pope's bitter feeling toward the elder
writer for his preference of Tickell's translation. The lines were
certainly written in Addison's lifetime, though we may be permitted to
doubt whether Pope really did send them to him, as he once asserted.
They did not appear in print, however, till four years after Addison's
death, when they were printed apparently without Pope's consent in a
volume of miscellanies. It is interesting to note that in this form the
full name "Addison" appeared in the last line. Some time later Pope
acknowledged the verses and printed them with a few changes in his
'Miscellany' of 1727, substituting the more decorous "A---n" for the
"Addison" of the first text. Finally he worked over the passage again
and inserted it, for a purpose that will be shown later, in the 'Epistle
to Arbuthnot'.
It is not worth while to discuss here the justice or injustice of this
famous portrait. In fact, the question hardly deserves to be raised. The
passage is admittedly a satire, and a satire makes no claim to be a just
and final sentence. Admitting, as we must, that Pope was in the wrong in
his quarrel with Addison, we may well admit that he has not done him
full justice. But we must equally admit that the picture is drawn with
wonderful skill, that praise and blame are deftly mingled, and that the
satire is all the more severe because of its frank admission of the
great man's merits. And it must also be said that Pope has hit off some
of the faults of Addison's character,--his coldness, his
self-complacency, his quiet sneer, his indulgence of flattering
fools--in a way that none of his biographers have done. That Pope was
not blind to Addison's chief merit as an author is fully shown by a
passage in a later poem, less well known than the portrait of Atticus,
but well worth quotation.
