"Curft be the verfe, how well foe'er it flow, POPE. "Or from the foft-eyed virgin fteal a tear." What this man has done by Mr. Burke I will also relate, and then produce my own anecdote, glad if by any means I light up this mifcreant as a beacon on a rock, to guard each mariner from approaching it; (it is very true that my indignation against him carries me far indeed aftray.) Of Mr. Burke, I mean against Mr. Burke, this man has fo repeatedly vented his calumny, mixed up with every common-place ftuff for the rabble of coffeehoufes or elsewhere, of Jesuit, St. Omer's, &c. that he has even lost thereby (if I am to credit any thing he says) his real patron Dr. Brocklesby. This he tells me; and I hope it can be no offence to that gentleman to say it here, along with what he will alfo here fee about his Protegé, if ever he has been it. And here is enough of all this, and to be fure too much. As foon as we arrived at Bath, the confidential fecret, in his hands, of my meditated publication, (which, who could have thought any more than me, required faying, Sir, you must not speak of this in Bath?') was betrayed to an acquaintance of his, and I have fince concluded the fame to be fure to many others; this I learned, as one generally does on fuch event, on the feparation; to my bookfeller, a very good fort of man, I alfo learned that he had faid, We, aye we fhall produce for you foon fuch a metaphyfical poem as will furprise you. This you will fay is a little out of the common. courfe of things; but what befide? This: he was come down with a great man, (I mean, as to be fure, he must have fuppofed from his proceedings) he had seen in town in a house fit for a man of three or four thousand pounds a year, full of fine pictures, &c.') and folon; and in the weakness and prefumption of his poor paltry mind, had really dreamt of patronage, money, and heaven knows what dreamings befide; in confequence of which, what what is hardly credible, yet true, he gave out that I had chofen him to live on with me, and had, whether promised or engaged, no matter which, to allow him 300l. a year.—All this before the breach; what was that? why, I think, as I have faid before, that feeing time after time, and month after month, no appearance of realization of these his golden dreams, he formed a plot for changing his ground, and see what he could do by a contrary route. than that of adulation or literary greatness, neither of which had gained even a doit of money or grain of adoration, nay admiration; except indeed, to fpeak exactly, at fome of his poetical effays, which I praised very much and as I thought they deferved, though of many I thought and think very ill indeed. His plot was this; first to sham an affront, and then get a fum from me by intimidation at his all-conquering newspaper. That there had been no words, difpute, anger, or affront, or any caufe as foundation, or fubject, for any thing at all to be faid about me in the newspaper, might seem a reason with some people to say he could not have thought of that: but my new learning has taught me that that is no ftop or bar ever in the way at all. As to his going, difficulty how to He stayed away from dinner one day, then another, for three or four days together, yet lay regularly in the house the fame. I could not form any guess why all this; and willing to keep from wrangles with fuch a perfon at such a place, I wrote to ask an explanation. Oh! he scorned to eat of the meals of a gentleman who could reproach him with it, and never would;' yet all the while his delicacy let him keep his bed the fame. I felt exceedingly glad, as I had been under no fmall get him away delicately, and fo that this brought on no more, felt much pleased. But no, that was not his plan; he wrote word he wondered I did not enquire after him, and hoped I remembered my engagements on coming down with me. In the mean time he applied to the perfon I before alluded to, one in very extenfive trade both at Bath and Bristol, a sensible worthy man, man, and in truth my chief resource in my fick and fecluded ftate; he too is connected with many of the gentry in and about Bath, and has a family of wife and daughters, and all mufical, fo that they were, whenever I chose it, moft acceptable company and entertainment for me. To this perfon he applied and our bookfeller, thinking to gain a party, as I concluded he would, and laid my account (experto crede Roberto) to a credit from friends, and that I fhould be laid out among them fomehow or another, God knew how (but in the old yahoo way) to these gentry. I refolved to keep to myfelf, and fay nothing; only wishing not to hear of any talk in Bath there might be about this great man's departure from the gentleman's house, where it was too well known he had been so long, little to my credit affuredly: fince, though I knew it not, he was equally known and detested all through the town. But it turned out quite otherwife, and I much wronged these two men; they gave him no credit at all, and the perfon I have mentioned before, came to speak to me, as I was determined not to do to them, and told me how he had reprimanded my gentleman, as concluding he could not have been right; but informed me he expected money from me, and if he had it not, threatened feu et flamme from his pandemonium the newspapers. I affured him, as I did the man, (who had written to me to demand it, as being agreeable to my engagement in town) that as nothing was due, fo nothing would be given. This perfon in trade is really an excellent man, very rational and judicious, and but for him, God knows how I fhould have got through this affair. He was our go-between, and I finally defired him to fay, that as far as ten pounds I would fling it away to end the business, but for that he must sign a paper I fent, declaring it juft and fatisfactory, (he was then come down to twenty pounds) and if he would not do that, I would not give a farthing more, though he put me in fifty newspapers. He figned it all, touched his ten pounds, and fo ended the business, I had thought and hoped, for ever. And fo it did; all but his confideration for his own dignity, which was, ruat cælum, to be attended to. He was, it was well known amongst his fraternity, fraternity, under the roof with the gentleman who wrote Maxims, &c., and to be fure as a literary affociate; why not continued?-Aye, thinks he, that must be accounted for; fomehow or other honourably for me. So what does he do? why send to his newfman-friend in town the following words for him to put in his paper, which, as foon as feen, fome novice will perhaps be a little surprised at, as from a man perfectly unknown to me, and whom at least I could not have offended;-these are the words, and my mercantile friend brought them to me cut out of the paper, about a week after the Anifhing our difputation, viz. "The literary union between Maxim G- [my name at length] and Anthony Pafquin [a foolish title he has taken up] is diffolved: they had "agreed to fail in one veffel, on a metaphyfical voyage, in quest of truth; "but the fatirift infifting upon the management of the helm, the tempeft "of difputation arofe, and the well-laden fhip foundered, juft in fight of "land." How was I, or am I, to consider all this? why with contempt and neglect, methinks I hear fome unconcerned gentleman exclaim. So far I believe is certain, that now that this my work is, I mean when it is, out, feeing the nature of its contents, few if any will, as in the former one, fufpect me of not having written it myself; or that the nonsense about that former work will be revived here, more especially as this man's late publication muft, I think, quite have changed the opinion of him as a writer of fuperior talents, which he in a good degree has been efteemed even with the very real critics I have too mentioned. Elfe I do indeed fuppofe, that many and most readers would have attributed to him the chief of the abftrufe parts at least of this work; nor am I fure might not, without this account, ftill have done fo. That I was hurt and vexed at this event not a little I fairly confefs, nor am I at all clear, that fome reader or other of this my history of it, and who perhaps makes makes light of it, might have been more fo, when his own cafe, than I was. What were its natural confequences to me? Why, in the first place, it is very plain, a divulgation to the whole world of what, at all events, I could not wish known, then at least, though as my own, to them; and, as far as this man and his friend the newfinan knew, might have intended to keep fecret for ever. How far this adds to this man's atrocity, others must say; fure fuch another has feldom appeared in the focial world; and as I have gone on with my account of him, it is all fo curicus in its way, that poffibly it may be even acceptable to my reader as fhewing him man (whom let me not forget I profess painting) in a new light. Yes, I grow to think that what I dreaded as a tiresome put-off, may poffibly turn out even food to the curiofity of fome readers.* I have faid, that this advertisement vexed me; it certainly did; I even fat down to write two letters to the editor, one of wrath and threat, the other of expostulation, but (I believe wifely) burnt both. Could it be pleasant to any man; to me at least, to have all the old story about my writings renewed among my old acquaintances; and could that escape a reception I hardly need fay? I do affure you, any of my old friends, if it did do this with you, it is perfectly natural that it should. And what redress had I for this, either against publisher or writer? None but going to loggerheads with these men, and its various confequences thereon. In fhort, I had to endure it as I could, ftill hoping that this my work (though then, nor 'till very lately, thinking of this account) would destroy its effect. And fure this man must be a fool not to have foreseen it. Many other things about this wretch are in my head; and this one I really will relate, both as his due, who has behaved far from properly, even in taking the man's part all he can, as also as my own excufe for not having I can think of nothing but Mr. Sheridan's Snake on this occafion, and let me again not overlook that genius in the charming hit off-the making himself sue not to have a good name, is quite new, and almost great. Though out of place I cannot forbear asking here, how Mr. Sheridan reconciles his man Trip's heing a clever fellow in one act, and a fool in the other, in the Critic? For non me finiscé. kept |