"Then peers grew proud in horsemanship t'excel,
Newmarket's glory rose as Britain's fell'
The soldier breathed the gallantries of France,
And ev'ry flow'ry courtier Writ Romance."
"Amidst all this nonsense," says the Bishop, "when things were at the worst, we have been lately entertained with what I will venture to call, a masterpiece in the Fable; and of a new species likewise. The piece I mean is, The Castle of Otranto. The scene is laid in Gothic chivalry; where a beautiful imagination, supported by strength of judgment, has enabled the author to go beyond his Subject, and effect the full purpose of the ancient tragedy; that is, to purge the passions by Pity and terror, in colouring as great and harmonious as in any of the best dramatic writers."-E.
Letter 186 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 5, 1780. (PAGE 242)
I have been turning over the new second volume of the Biographia, and find the additions very poor and lean performances. The lives entirely new are partial and flattering, being contributions of the friends of those whose lives are recorded. This publication made at a time when I have lived to see several of my contemporaries deposited in this national temple of fame has made me smile, and reflect that many preceding authors, who have been installed there with much respect, may have been as trifling personages as those we have l(nown and now behold consecrated to memory. Three or four have struck me particularly, as Dr. Birch,(376) who was a worthy, good-natured soul, full of industry and activity, and running about like a young setting-dog in quest of any thing, new or old, and with no parts, taste, or judgment. Then there is Dr. Blackwell,(377) the most impertinent literary coxcomb upon earth—but the editor has been so just as to insert a very merited satire on his Court of Augustus.
The third is Dr. Brown, that mountebank, who for a little time made as much noise by his Estimate, as ever quack did by a nostrum. I do not know if I ever told you how much I was struck the only time I ever saw him. You know one object, and the anathemas of his Estimate was the Italian Opera; yet did I find him one evening, in Passion Week, accompanying some of the Italian singers, at a concert at Lady Carlisle's. A clergyman, no doubt, is not obliged to be on his knees the whole week before Easter, and music and a concert are harmless amusements; but when Cato or Calvin are out of character, reformation becomes ridiculous—but poor Dr. Brown was mad,(378) and therefore might be in earnest, whether he played the fool or the reformer.
You recollect, perhaps, the threat of Dr. Kippis to me, which is to be executed on my father, for my calling the first edition of the Biographia the Vindicatio Britannica—but observe how truth emerges at last! In his new volume he confesses that the article of Lord Arlington, which I had specified as one of the most censurable, is the one most deserving that censure, and that the character of Lord Arlington is palliated beyond all truth and reason"-words stronger than mine—yet mine deserved to draw vengeance on my father! so a Presbyterian divine inverts divine judgment, and visits the sins of the children on the parents!
Cardinal Beaton's character, softened in the first edition, gentle Dr. Kippis pronounces "extremely detestable"—yet was I to blame for hinting such defects in that work!—and yet my words are quoted to show that Lord Orrery's poetry was ridiculously bad. In like manner Mr. Cumberland, who assumes the whole honour of publishing his grandfather's Lucan, and does not deign to mention its being published at Strawberry Hill, (though by the way I believe it will be oftener purchased for having been printed there, than for wearing Mr. Cumberland's name to the dedication,) and yet he quotes me for having praised his ancestor in one of my publications. These little instances of pride and spleen divert me, and then make me reflect sadly on human weaknesses. I am very apt myself to like what flatters my opinions or passions, and to reject scornfully what thwarts them, even in the same persons. The more one lives, the more one discovers one's uglinesses in the features of others! Adieu! dear Sir; I hope you do not suffer by this severe season.
P. S. I remember two other instances, where my impartiality, or at least sincerity, have exposed me to double censure. You perhaps condemned my severity on Charles the First; yet the late Mr. Hollis wrote against me in the newspapers, for condemning the republicans for their destruction of ancient monuments. Some blamed me for undervaluing the Flemish and Dutch pictures in my preface to the Aedes Walpolianae. Barry the painter, because I laughed at his extravagances, says, in his rejection of that school, "But I leave them to be admired by the Hon. Horace Walpole, and such judges." Would not one think I had been their champion!
(376) See vol. i. p. 434, letter 177.-E.
(377) Dr. Thomas Blackwell, principal of the Marischal College in
Aberdeen. Besides the above work, he wrote "An Enquiry into the
Life and Writings of Homer," and "Letters concerning Mythology."
He died in 1757.