Cibber and Sheridan: or, the Dublin miscellany. Containing all the advertisements, letters, ... Lately publish'd, on account of the theatric squabble. To which are added, several prologues and epilogues, spoke at the theatre in Smock Alley, ... by Mr. Cibber, ... Also two songs by Mr. Worsdale,

Table of contents

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- TO THE PUBLISHER.

- The following Paragraphs, are extracted from THE THEATRE, (No 2.) a Paper, publish'd in London twice a Week, by Sir Richard Steele, (under the Name of Sir John Edgar,) in the Year 1722.

- These were Publish'd July 19th.

- These were stuck upon Posts about Town July 19th. CIBBER's Warning Piece.

- To the Ladies and Gentlemen who were Present at the Play of CATO last Thursday.

- An Epistle from Mr. THEOPHILUS CIBBER, Comedian, to Mr. THOMAS SHERIDAN, Tragedian.

- A POSTSCRIPT added to a New Edition of the foregoing Epistle, occasion'd by the Disturbance at the THEATRE on Thurs day, July the 21st.

- This was in Reilly's Paper of July 23d. Mr. SHERIDAN at the general Desire of all his Friends will perform the Character of CATO, on Thursday next, at the Theatre Royal in Aungier-street; being positively the last Time of his performing this Season, with several Entertainments of Dancing by Monsieur Mullement.

- A Letter from ONE to ANOTHER, Containing Arguments PRO and CON, relating to the Dispute between Mr. CIBBER and Mr. SHERIDAN.

- Mr. SHERIDAN's Address to the Town.

- A proper REPLY to a late scurrilous LIBEL, entitled, Mr. SHERIDAN's ADDRESS to the Town.

- A Letter from Antient PISTOL, to Young PISTOL; who acted that Part on Mon day the 1st of August, 1743, at the The atre in S—k-A—y. Being an E pistle From the Dead to the Living.

- A Letter from a Young LADY to Mr. CIBBER.

- An Answer to the young Lady; or, a Letter from Mrs. SLAMMEKIN to Miss TABITHA TAMMY, &c.

- VERSES address'd to Mr. SHERIDAN, on his late Affair in the Theatre.

- An EPILOGUE, spoke by Mr. CIBBER, in the Character of Nobody.

- A PROLOGUE Spoken by Mr. CIBBER, on the 11th of June, being the Anniversary of his Majesty's Accessi on to the Throne.

- A PROLOGUE, address'd to the Gentlemen and Ladies of this Kingdom, by Mr. CIBBER, at his Benefit.

- An EPILOGUE, Wrote by Jo. HAINS, a celebrated Comedian, of facetious Memory: And spoken by Mr. CIBBER, riding on an Ass.

- A PROLOGUE Spoken by illegible CIBBER, August 18th, on the Ba illegible Dettingen.

- An Act of Grace, the Poet's Release, by Mr. WORSDALE.

- The Routing of the French Forces, made and sung by Mr. WORSDALE: Tune, Do del, do del do, pap pap pa pa.

FINIS.

CIBBER and SHERIDAN: OR, THE Dublin Miscellany.

CONTAINING All the Advertisements, Letters, Addresses, Replys, Apologys, Verses, &c, &c, &c. Lately publish'd, on Account of the Theatric Squabble.

To which are added, Several Prologues, and Epilogues, spoke at the Theatre in Smock-Alley, this Summer, by Mr. CIBBER, some of which were never before printed.

ALSO, Two SONGS by Mr. WORSDALE, One call'd,

An Act of Grace,

The Poet's Release.

The Other, On the routing of the French Forces at Dettingen, &c.

Bella per Emathios plusquam Civilia campos.

LUCAN.

The Fight, grown hot, set plumed Pens to work;

And the Gor'd Battle bled at every Press.

Parody on Tate

DUBLIN: Printed for PETER WILSON, at Gay's head in Dame-street, Bookseller. MDCCXLIII.

TO THE PUBLISHER.

SIR,

I HAVE sent you the Prologues, &c. you desir'd; you say, 'twill be an Amusement to the Town, and a Satisfaction to their Curiosity, to collect all the Papers, the late theatrical Squabbles have produc'd; and you desire my Leave to print them:—you have it with all my Heart. You desire I would not take it ill that you publish (among the rest) that thing, call'd a Letter from antient Pistol to young Pistol;—I think, I can't better shew my Contempt of it, than by desiring you not to omit it.—Were you Printing a Trial,—to sink any Evidence, or Pleadings, on either Side the Question, tho' ever so false, so ridiculous, or impertinent, were an unfair Treatment of the Publick: If I knew the incomprehensible Author of that extraordinary Piece, I should desire no other FLING at him, but to affix his Name at Length to his elaborate Work. Who it is, I neither know, nor care; nor am I anxious to be satisfied, whether a certain Person, guess'd by many, was really the Author or no: I mean one, who, for his ill Manners in disturbing a social Company, was, not long since, "quoited down Stairs like a Shuffleboard Piece.

Tho' I am sensible many Means have been us'd to depreciate me, both as a Man, and an Actor, in the Minds of People here; I can but smile at such impotent Malice, and shall ever, with grateful Joy remember, the Gentlemen of this Kingdom (to their Honour be it said) would not suffer themselves to be misguided, by Pique or Prejudice; no, they would judge for themselves:—Let my Enemies call this boasting, if they please; I had rather run the Hazard of that Censure, than be liable to the Imputation of Ingratitude; and sure, to be totally silent on this Occasion, were to be unworthy of their Favours. I have not Words equal to my Sentiments of my Obligations to the Town, let me therefore •ntreat their Candour, their Humanity, and better Sense, to supply my Deficiency, and think what ought to be said, when I would declare how much, and how sincerely,

I am, their most obliged, most obedient, and devoted very humble Servant, THEOPHILUS CIBBER.

P. S. I hope you'll not omit, in your Collection, that choice Copy of Verses, address'd to Mr. Sheridan, printed in Reily's News-Letter, Tuesday August 23.

The following Paragraphs, are extracted from THE THEATRE, (No 2.) a Paper, publish'd in London twice a Week, by Sir Richard Steele, (under the Name of Sir John Edgar,) in the Year 1722.

LET any Man, who understands Conversation, or Business, that lives amongst knowing Men, either in Publick, or private Life, consider the Diflidence we are usually under, in executing any Part that naturally is our Duty, and requires only acting in Publick what is demanded of us in our ordinary Characters and Functions; I say, let any one reflect on this, and he will account for the Concern and Confusion in which an Actor must behold an Auditor stir up any new Reflection, or Thought, in his old Adversaries, the Vulgar, the Unthinking, and the Boisterous, who have it in their Power by Noise, or Clamour (while he is to perform what is foreign to himself) to disconcert and push him out of a personated Character, of Liveliness, and Mirth, into his private one of Grief and Dejection: And yet, perhaps, in two Minutes it shall be expected that he shall be enough himself to assume the Person, whom (even to please his Oppressors) he is still oblig'd to represent. This Consideration is enough to gain him the Favour and Protection of reasonable Men, tho' perhaps it may require Time to turn the Edge of Youths of false Fire, natural Wickedness, and warm Blood, so far as to look in upon themselves, and see how much they have wanted, and ought to learn Humanity.

The Humour in which People go to Plays is generally that of Leisure, and Indolence, and the Entertainment gives them such a Notion of Levity and Chearfulness in the Performers, that they have not the same Idea of their laborious Life as they have of the Application of other useful People, whose Business does not require half the Sense and Diligence to be Masters of it. They do not consider that Readiness, Alacrity, Spirit, and Disengagement from themselves, are in no one Station of Life so indispensably necessary, as in the Duty of an accomplish'd Actor: And if all these uncommon Qualities are not summon'd, and about him, at a certain Hour, his Interest and Reputation are lost at once: For he cannot even subsist without being always in a Readiness to place himself in his best Appearance: Painful the Task, and incumbent only on the undervalu'd Player!

These were Publish'd July 19th.

To Mr. GEORGE FAULKNER.

Trinity College, Dublin July 17th. 1743.
Sir,

IN addressing you we are sensible we speak to the Publick, and we are but too well acquainted with the Deference owing to their Judgment not to be desirous of their Approbation, with Submission therefore to all those, whose Censure may deserve our Regard, we presume it will not be taken amiss, that we are resolved to see Justice done to injured Merit.

Upon a strict and impartial Enquiry into the Reasons of Mr. Sheridan's not appearing Thursday last in the Character of Cato, we find them so strong and satisfactory, that our Resolution, we hope, will be favourably look'd on. of seeing him righted, and the Insolence of others properly chastised, who either thro' Envy or Malice, wou'd remove the strongest Inducement we have for frequenting the Play-house, and consequently deprive us of the Satisfaction we propose to ourselves from the most rational Amusements; and it's expected none will condemn us for frustrating the malicious Contrivances of some sew designing Wretches, and by so doing, convince them their envious, but shallow Practices shall always prove abortive whenever they tend to wrong or depress real Merit.

An Apology of this Nature we could not but judge absolutely necessary, to prevent any Misconstructions we might possibly expose ourselves to, by our Resentment to find, one of the principal Characters burlesqed by the Presumption of one, every way unequal to it.

To Mr. SHERIDAN.

Trinity-College, July 17.
SIR,

THE Reasons you assign for not performing the Part of Cato last Thursday, are more than sufficient to justify you in the Opinion of every unprejudiced Person; and tho' your Resentment of the Usage you receiv'd is equally just, we hope it will not deprive us of the Satisfaction we promise ourselves from so eminent a Genius. As the Declarations of some malicious Persons may possibly have made you apprehensive of being hereafter insulted, we take this Opportunity, with the greatest Deference to those whose Judgment is to be regarded, of publickly assuring you, that the just Sense we have of your Merit, and the ill Usage you have met with, has determined us not only to support you, but frustrate any malicious Schemes Theatrical Politicians may form to your Disadvantage.

These were stuck upon Posts about Town July 19th.
CIBBER's Warning Piece.

NOW mourn immortal Shakespear, grieve to hear,

Thy tuneful Muse offend each skilful Ear:

Now wonder, why those bold majestick Strains,

The toilsome Task of Years, thy rich Remains

Desist to ravish!

And thou Great Addison, so much admir'd!

The Theme of Ages! by the Nine inspir'd!

How has thy sacred Shade not wept and pin'd,

To see Great Cato and Sir Fopling join'd!

To see a Wretch design'd for Farce and Pun

Presume to speak, what daunted Sh— n!

To see him lisp and amble, strut, and fleer;

And redicule thy Morals with a Sneer!

But shou'd he (which the Gods forbid!) once dare

To dance Othello—By those Gods I swear,

Tumultuous Peals of Oranges shall fly,

Like Showers of Hail, srom an enraged Sky.

Therefore we charge you Ophy C—r cease,

Least we bestow you Birch instead of Bays.

To the Ladies and Gentlemen who were Present at the Play of CATO last Thursday.

I Am extreamly concerned for the Occasion of my addressing you in this publick Manner, but as the Disappointment which you met with at my not being able to perform, has given rise to several Stories very little in my Favour, I think it my Duty to clear up the Matter and justify myself. The Fact is thus: When I went to the Play-house I found every thing in great Confusion, the People not paid and clamouring for their Money, the Musick refusing to play unless their Arrears were discharged, and an Account brought at the same Time that Mr. Philips the Director and Manager of the Whole had absconded. As I was dressing for my Part, I found the Robe which I had before worn in CATO was wanting; upon enquiry I heard that Mr. Philips had come two Days before and taken it from the House, I had some Reason to believe that he had done it purely to prevent my Playing that Night, the Resentment I conceived at such Treatment, the Concern I was under lest the Audience should be disappointed, some other ill Usage I received, and several other Incidents concurring, (a Detail of which would take up too much Time) disordered me so much that it not only rendered me incapable of doing Justice to the Character I was to play, but like wise almost took away my voice. You yourselves were Witnesses of this when I endeavoured to make an Apology and could not be heard. And indeed I was in such Confusion that had I been heard I should not have been understood. I appeal to any reasonable Person then present whether it were better in these Circumstances to dismiss the House (which was my Intention) or to keep them purely to convince them that it was not in my Power to get through one Speech of the Part. It has been said that the want of a Robe was a trifling Thing, and that the Audience would have been content to have received me in any Dress; they must have but little Skill in Theatrical Affairs who think a proper Habit is not absolutely neceslary, or that a Person can perform a Part well, with a Consciousness about him that he looks it ill. This was more particularly my Case in this Character, as it is one for which I am naturally very unfit in my Person, and in which nothing could have made my Appearance supportable but a large Robe to cover my Defects, and give a Gravity and Dignity to my Person which I wanted and which are so absolutely necessary to the Character. I know when an Audience is disappointed, they often make but little Allowances for the Actor, they feel nothing of the Concern and Anxiety of Mind he labours under when he has acquired a Reputation by performing a Character one Night, and sees himself about to lose it in another. But it was not that nor the ill Treatment I had received which hindered my Playing, it was the Effect which all this had on me. I had so much Deference for the Audience, and so much Gratitude; nay, it was so much my Duty, that I should have sacrificed all Regard to Character, and every other Consideration, to have done my utmost to have pleased them even in the meanest Dress, had I not found that my Voice was quite gone, and that it was not in my Power to go through with one Scene. I was then reduced to this Difficulty, either to detain them when I found I was not only incapable of giving them the Satisfaction they might expect, but must have given them the highest Disgust in my Performance, or else fairly to tell them that it was not in my Power to play. I chose the latter; if it was an Error it is one I have paid dearly for, since to that Principle I sacrificed above sixty Pounds, which I absolutely lost by not playing. Such Persons as have assigned any other Cause for my not performing, if they can suppose me either vain, or ungrateful, or even impudent enough to disappoint an Audience meerly out of Whim or Humour, I hope will not think me Fool enough to stand to such a Loss.

And now (tho' I have already trespass'd too much on your Patience) I must beg your Indulgence a little farther, as I perhaps shall not have another Opportunity of doing it, in permitting me to return you and all the Ladies and Gentlemen of this Kingdom, who have honoured the Plays, in which I performed, with their Presence, my sincere and hearty Thanks for all your Favours. The Success I have met with has been an additional Pleasure to me, as by this Means you have convinced the World how false that Opinion is which has prevail'd amongst some, that the People of Ireland are kinder to Strangers than to their own. For your great Indulgence to me is a manifest Proof, how willing you are to encourage the least Dawn of Merit in one of your Country. Yet, I am sorry to say it, your great Favour, and the prodigious Success I have met with, have, I find, rais'd me many Enemies; there are some People who can not behold the Prosperity of others in any way of Life without Envy; and as I am conscious to myself that I have by no Action of mine deserv'd the Hatred of any Person, I must believe I have no Enemies but such as my Success has made so. That I have some is manifest from the Industry with which some People spread Reports to my Disadvantage, and the Readiness with which others believe them. My Gratitude to the Publick, the Friendship I have experienc'd in Private, and the Love I have for my Country, would have detained me here much longer, (if I could in the least have contributed to the Publick Entertainment,) in spight of any Advantages I could have propros'd to myself in another Kingdom; I should be sorry a few Snakes in the Grass should drive me from so fair a Field; but it is a Misfortune in our Way of Life that a few malicious People can do a Person more Injury in one Night, than the Friendship of the Publick in general can repair.

I sincerely wish that the Success I have met with may be a Means of raising up some Genius more worthy to entertain you, but this I will venture to say, that you will never find any, who has studied to do it with more Zeal and Industry, or who has a more grateful Sense of the many Obligations you have conferr'd

On your most obliged and devoted humble Servant, THOMAS SHERIDAN.
July 19th.

An Epistle from Mr. THEOPHILUS CIBBER, Comedian, to Mr. THOMAS SHERIDAN, Tragedian.

It is a Kind of Slander to trust to Rumour.

B. JOHNSON.

—Bella! horrida Bella!

The Scene oft' rallies •ollies of the Age;

Laugh, in your turn, at •ollies of the Stage.

ANON.

Stephen's-Green, Tuesday Afternoon, July 19, 1743.
Mr. SHERIDAN,

YOUR injudicious Disappointment of the Company last Thursday, who expected to see you in the Character of CATO, and your indiscreet Attempt to dismiss the Audience, having, as you confess, become a Towntalk, and given Rise to many idle Falshoods, meerly calculated to injure the Innocent: You must excuse me if I relate the Fact, strictly adhering to Truth. There were many Witnesses of what I am about to declare; and I know none, except yourself, whose Memory is weak enough to forget it, or will be hardy enough to deny it.

When it drew near the Time proper to begin the Play, Mr. Giffard and myself were alarm'd, in the Dressing-room with a Report, that you declared you would not play, because you had not the same Robe you wore in that Character before; and that you said, The Audience must be dismiss'd. This Reason for dismissing an Audience, (propos'd by you who had no Right to dismiss them) appear'd to me so weak, I could not believe it, till you came into the Room, and swore, Unless you had that Robe, you would not act. This Declaration I looked upon as a rash Expression, the meer Effect of your then ruf•led Temper; but could not yet suppose you would proceed so idly as you did: You were then compleatly dress'd from Head to Foot (as well as ever the Character was dress'd in any Theatre in Ireland or England) all but the Robe.

Upon Enquiry, it appeared, the Robes worn by Cato, Juba and Sempronius, the first Night, were borrowed by Philips, of some Gentlewoman in this Town, who bought them in an Auction at London, some Time since, but were by no Means the Property of the Managers, or any one belonging to the Theatre, nor were to be got that Night; so all the Heroes were equally disappointed of those Trappings. Your Impatience increased, and, tho' another Robe was brought you (the same Robe that was made new, this Year, for Mr. Husband, in the Character of Julius Caesar) you persisted in having the other uncomeatable Robe, or you positively would undress, and was determined not to play. To every body's Surprize, you did undress, and, in spight of the most friendly Remonstrances to the contrary, you made a broken kind of Speech to the Audience; with which they were so dissatisfied, they could not help shewing it.

Before you went on, I entreated you (on the meer exchange of a Robe) not to do so unpolitic a Thing, I might add, unpolite, as to think of disappointing the Town of their Diversion: You reply'd, The Vexation had deprived you of your Voice, and rendered you incapable of performing: I desir'd you to consider, the first Act was of such a considerable Length, you might have Time enough to recover your Temper, and your Voice would probably return with it; or if the Defect lasted, your attempting to perform would appear so obliging, the Audience would readily make any Allowances, when they knew you had been ruffled, &c. but to think of giving them no Play at all, was what I could not but conceive would offend them.

To repeat all was said to you on this Occasion, would add to the Tediousness of this Recital: But, as near as I can remember, nothing was omitted, in the most friendly Manner, to dissuade you from your mistaken Purpose.

I am informed you stay'd afterwards, just long enough to hear the extraordinary indulgent Reception the Audience were pleased to bestow on my proposing, with their Leave, to give them the Play, in the best Manner we could, since it was not in our Power to give it them so well as we would. You then ran hastily out of the House, and sent a Message afterwards to the Theatre, That you would not, by any Means, have your Name delivered out for another Play, for you would positively act no more.

I should not, Mr. Sheridan, have given you or my self this Trouble, but for the many Reports that fly about, of which, 'tis said, you are the Author: And since I have advanced so far, I must go a little farther, and make a few honest Queries; then, giving you a little Advice, shall submit to the Determination of the Publick, whether I (as it has been insinuated) ever intended you the least Prejudice; or, on the contrary, have not always acted towards you with good Manners and good Nature?

First then,—have I not your Letter by me, sent to me when in England, wherein you express yourself very desirous of my acting in the same Theatre with you, and are solicitous for my coming over?—And do you not know, your particular Application since my Arrival, was one of my strongest Motives for playing in Smock-Alley, where I am likely to have a Law-suit, for my Right, with the Managers, tho' I was offer'd the same Terms from Aungier-Street Play-house, where my Agreement would have been sign'd by a Gentleman of Honour, whose Pay is as good as the Bank.

Have I not, on your Return to the Stage this Season, in Compliment to you, play'd some inferior Characters, which, 'tis well known, I had a long Time resign'd to younger Actors in England?

Did I omit any Care, or grudge any Pains, to keep the Audience in Temper, when your sudden Indisposition prevented your playing, the first intended Night of King Lear? Or could I, for a Brother, have been more Active, to silence the Reports then made to your Prejudice?—sed Tu Brute!

Have not I desir'd you, tho' our remaining Nights of Playing were few, and we had large Sums at Stake, to fix the Plays to your own Mind?

Have not you been paid a large Part of that fresh Agreement you made, but did not compleat, while we are unpaid our Agreements, tho', we have, 'tis notorious, often solicited the Managers to release us, if they found the emptiness of the Town would not answer their contining our Performance?—But we could get neither our Liberty nor our Money.

Have not you often been an Ear-witness of these Proposals, and as often declar'd, we behav'd with the greatest Lenity and strictest Honour.

Did not your sudden breaking off from Playing leave us in a displeasing Dilemma? And was it not reasonable for us, to propose acting such Pieces, as might excite the greatest Curiosity in the Town, whereby the Managers might be enabled to pay us, and the rest of the Company?

Did I not decline ('till your positive Declaration, that you would play no more this Season) appearing in any Character you had perform'd? And did you not express yourself as oblig'd to me, on making you that Compliment, as you were pleas'd to term it?

How comes it then, Mr. Sheridan, reported, that Mr. Giffard, and myself, have intended you any injury? Or from whence is it said, that we (ridiculous! as false!) lock'd up your Cloaths, and did all we could to prevent your Playing? This, Sir, has been so frequently asserted, as a Fact related by you, that you ought as a Friend to Truth, to have fully answer'd such monstrous Falshoods; or, may we not reasonably suppose, you did spread such Reports? If you can be the Author of such Tales, what Language is fit to paint you?

The Letters I read this Day in the Dublin Journal, if not ipso facto yours, are yet so worded, an impartial Reader cannot but see they were, at least, the Work of some mistaken Friend, whose good Nature you had imposed on, by false Relations: From whom, but you, could come the satisfactory Reasons, (not one of which are mentioned) for your not performing? Or the poor low Invectives, and mean Inuendoes therein contained?—Whom do you mean, by Designing Wrelches, and Theatrical Politicians? Or what can you intend but to insinuate, you have been artfully drove from the Stage, when you know your Absence from thence is absolutely your own Act and Deed?

Fie! fie! stick to Truth, or be ashamed of such publick Addresses, or to shew your Pace after them.

May not one suppose, Master Sheridan, the kind and civil Intention of these two Letters, is to ereate a Disturbance in the future Audiences?

But let me inform you, when a Rebuff to an Actor appears premeditated and bespoke from Prejudice, such Treatment may put a poor Player out of Humour; but sure, it ought not to put him out of Countenance.

If you withdraw yourself from the Theatre, for a Time, must all Diversion stop till your Return? If a Vintner has not Ortelans, or any other extraordinary Dainties, in the Larder, will his Guests think it impertinent, if they are intreated to take such homely Entertainment as the House affords?—And if the Defects of others, serve as a Foil to the Brilliancy of your Performance, why should you be angry, at what, if you'd keep your Temper, might prove so consolable to you?

Dear Tommy, don't prove such a Dog in a Manger; if you don't chuse Oats, why should you starve the rest of the Theatrical Cattle? Have more Compassion on your fellow Creatures, or fellow Comedians.

But, Master Tommy, may we not shrewdly suspect, tho' your Performances have been hitherto mostly tragical, you have given your Mind a little Bent towards Comedy, and, in those Studies, have taken a Hint from Congreve's Petulant? Who, to keep up an extraordinary Reputation, was notorious, under a Disguise, for calling for himself at a Coffee house; where he would sometimes, in a Mask, send in for himself, wait for himself, nay, and not finding himself, would frequently leave a Letter for himself:—Faith, you are highly in Luck in improving a Hint, I sind.

But let me ask you a home Question—Has not a great deal of that fuss of Mind, you have lately shewn, been m•re owing to your Disappointment, that the Audience would not depart, when you declar'd your high and mighty Displeasure, because you had not the self-same gew gaw, tinsel Train, more than from any Fears you had of having displeas'd them? Or was it naugry, because any one was permitted (under great Disadvantages) meerly to attempt, what they had never in their Lives a Thought of performing? Why this is the passionate Extravaganza of your Brother PISTOL, who, scorning all Contradiction, or Competition, bounces about in his Boots, kicks his Heels with Fury against the Stage, and swell'd with swaggering Rage and Nonsense cries, "Shall Dunghil Curs confront with Helicon, &c.—Shall Pack-horses, and hollow pamper'd Jades of Asia, that cannot travel thirty Miles a day, compare with Caesar, and with Cannibals, and with Trojan Greeks, &c. &c." But, as our Friend concludes, "Shall we fall foul for Toys?—

Tho' I don't think there is any thing personally terrible about you, yet I own you a Gentleman of great Formidability, who have the Power if you say true (and you know you have talk'd at that paw-paw Rate) of calling down the Barracks, on any one you condescend to be displeas'd with: Pray, do you mean the Stone Buildings? for I can't suppose you presume to have any Command over the Gentlemen there, as I never heard of any Commission the King had yet honour'd you with; and I believe there is hardly any there will think it worth their while, to attend the Call of your Whistle, to a silly Riot: I am rather inclinable to think the Gallant Spirits there, are more impatient to attend the Call of a Trumpet, at this glorious Juncture, and be in Actions worthy of them.—And for the Gentlemen of the College, Sir, no Insinuation shall make me dread ill Usage from those, whose Birth and Education will never suffer 'em to hurt the Innocent, nor can I affront 'em with so ungenteel a Thought, that they will be the Tools of your wrong-plac'd Resentment.—Mr. Sheridan, your Behaviour has extorted this from me, and as your Conscience must tell you, I never meant you the least Injury, should you by any little Art aim thro' Pique or Passion, unhospitably to hurt a Stranger, it would be an Act that wants a Name, and require such Language to answer, as would but ill become the Mouth of a Gentleman, or be sitting for the Ears of the Publick.

As my Stay here will be short, I but desire (what I will not doubt meeting with) a candid Reception for the few Nights I have to play, from the goodnatur'd Town, whose past Favours I am proud of; to confess them is an Act of Gratitude: Nor will I therefore think my self liable to the Imputation of a boasting Vanity.—Let me, Mr. Sheridan, give you this friendly Caution,—Do not run into an Error most young Men, in our Business, have been too guilty of, who think their Merits are but barely paid, when their Reception is most favourable; and take that as their Due, which is mostly the Effect of a generous Disposition, in the Town, to encourage, and support, a rising Genius whenever it appears.—Tho' People may be as fond of such, for a while, as Gallants are of a new Mistress, yet, if Vanity and Caprice prevail, in such Performer, grown wild and wanton with Success, they know when to withdraw their Favours, nor is it easy to regain them.—If I ever see you in England, I'll be most unmercifully reveng'd of you, for your Mistakes towards me; and will absolutely endeavour, to make your Reception there, as pleasing to you, as you may have wish'd, mine should have been here displeasing to me: But, let us now mind our Business, and no more trouble the Publick with our Theatrical-Important-Nothings.—They will but laugh at us for our Pains.

I am yours, &c. T. C.

A POSTSCRIPT added to a New Edition of the foregoing Epistle, occasion'd by the Disturbance at the THEATRE on Thursday, July the 21st.

Bella geri placuit nullos habitura triumphos.

LUCAN.

Ne Pueri, ne tanta animis assuescite Bella,

Neu Patriae validas in vicera verlite vires.

VIRG.

Friday Morning, July 22d.

AS there were many Witnesses of the tumultuous Riot, which you occasion'd last Night at the Theatre (for which the Town are highly oblig'd to you) I shall make no Reflections on it: but leave the Relation thereof to the Impartial, and Unprejudic'd:—I say you occasion'd; for, the Pretence of the College being offended, is a meer Pretence; They are Men of Reason, and will not resent without a Cause: Nor is it a Reflection on the Society, that a few may be misled, by their mistaken Partiality to you; that ought no more to bring an Odium on such a large and worthy Body, than that you were, once, an unworthy Member thereof, which the Majority, by this time, probably wish you ne'er had been.

Your Behaviour, Friend Thomas, has been so bad, I doubt, if the smallest, or lowest, Body of People would chuse you to mingle with 'em; I searce believe, the most indifferent Troop of Stroling Players, would chuse to rank with you: Yet, 'tis methinks a Pity! You should not be quite lost to the Stage; since, tho' you are not equal to all Parts, there are two, I'll venture to say, you'll always make an extraordinary Figure in; I mean the Characters of MASKWELL and SCRUB: You seem to have study'd and practis'd them thoroughly—I can't suppose my Frankness towards you can have offended any Set of Gentlemen: Are you not free to answer for yourself, in any Manner you think proper? And, as to the Gentlemen of the College, I here solemnly declare, I am not conscious of having design'd the least Offence to 'em, in Word, in Deed, or even in Thought.

Would any friendly Monitor convince me, how 'tis possible for me, to have said, or done, ought to the Offence of any one in this Kingdom (you Master Tommy excepted) I should be asham'd not to acknowledge my Error, and would readily, as I ought, ask their Pardon.—But why should I wonder at your unhospitable Attempts towards a Stranger, when you could so unmercifully threaten even a Brother, with being ill used, if he presumed to play any Part of yours; this is a Fact naughty-paughty Tommy, too well known by many for you to deny.

But, pray Sir, by what Act of Parliament do you lay this monopolizing Claim, that, even during your Absence from the Stage, no one must presume to appear in any Part you please to call yours?—Thou dear Mock-Monarch, have Copper Crowns, and Tinsell'd Robes, so elated thee, as to think thy Commands are absolute?—I wonder you have not publish'd your royal Mandate, to all the Theatres in his Majesty's Dominions, that none shall dare attempt any Character you have but thought of—Thou really seemest to be such a choice Sort of a Monarch, as your Brother Tommy Thumb's King Arthur. Why, while the Stage looks gloomy from your Absence, do you not cry out with him,

Let nothing but a Face of Grief appear,

The Man that smiles this Day shall ose his Head,

That he may have no Head to smile withal.

But pray, sweet meager Sir, where did you prudentially retire during this noble Riot? were you solacing your cal•••e Carcass, and keeping up your poor Spirits, with Punch or Claret, and smiling at the Clangor of the distant War?—Mr. Pope has a Line draws thy Picture strongly in such Circumstances. ‘A Fiend in Glee ridiculously grim!’

Really, lovely Youth, I am no Quixote to fight Windmills, nor yet a Drawcansir to encounter Multitudes, nor an Jago to attack Men in the Dark.—But there is no Terror in Master Sheridan alone, nor can he wear any Shape himself, will ever make me alter an honest Purpose, or prevent my telling him any necessary Truth. In short, use no Fallacies to betray mistaken Numbers into your Cause, and I shall but despise you.

Approach Thou like the rugged Russian Bear,

The arm'd Rhinoceros, or Hyrcaman Tyger;

Take any Shape but That. and my firm Nerves

Shall never tremble; or revive a While,

And dare me to the Desart with thy Sword,

If any Sinew shrink, proclaim me then

The Baby of a Girl.—Hence horrid Shadow!

SHAKES.

This was in Reilly's Paper of July 23d.
Mr. SHERIDAN at the general Desire of all his Friends will perform the Character of CATO, on Thursday next, at the Theatre Royal in Aungier-street; being positively the last Time of his performing this Season, with several Entertainments of Dancing by Monsieur Mullement.

Trinity College, July 21.

AS our just Indignation against Mr. Cibber, and the Method which we took to shew it, has unexpectedly brought Mr. Sheridan under the Censure of some People, we think ourselves bound, in regard to Truth, and that Innocence should not suffer, to declare, that Mr. Sheridan, was in no wise privy to the Advertisements which we put in the Journal, and was indeed hardly personally known to any of us who drew it up; that when he had seen it in the Papers, he came to us and requested in the most earnest manner that not one of us should go near the Play-house on Thursday Night; out of Regard to him we comply'd and determined not to go. After we had made this Promise came out Mr. Cibber's Letter, in which (to leave Mr. Sheridan entirely out of the Question,) we ourselves were attacked by the manner in which he treated our Advertisement: Such Insolence from a Person of his Character, tho' it deserved the highest Punishment, yet should we not have carried Matters so far, had we not heard, and the Event justified it, that Mr. Cibber had a Party of Ruffians, and other desperate Fellows to oppose us. Notwithstanding all this Series of Provocations, we are willing to suffer him to play for his own Benefit, or any other Characters that are sit for him, provided he behaves himself well. Mr. Sheridan having earnestly intreated us that we might.

As there were some of Distinction and Merit then present who might have taken Exceptions to our Behaviour that Night, we publickly disclaim any Design of offending them, which we should have done at that Time, could we have been heard.

A Letter from ONE to ANOTHER, Containing Arguments PRO and CON, relating to the Dispute between Mr. CIBBER and Mr. SHERIDAN.

SIR,

THE present Contest between Mr. CIBBER and Mr. SHERIDAN, having without my Concurrence, or that of any one of my kindred revived the Animosity which so long held us at Variance, I cannot forbear expostulating with you on so unhappy an Occurrence, more especially when, for this considerable Time past, nothing has been more commonly the Town-Talk, than that all Differences were made up between One and Another, and that they were at present in perfect Unity, which, I assure you, gave every One great Satisfaction, let Another take it as he would; for my own particular part it pleased me, because every One was weary of the perpetual Noise and scandalous Reports that were raised concerning Squabbles between One and Another; I cannot but assume to myself some Merit, in as much as One alone hath ever been willing, as I now am, of making an Overture of Reconcilement between One and Another, though, at the same time, I have all Mankind on my Side, who at all Times declare their Opinion in the most publick Manner, and from which no One ever did dissent; that no one ever differed with a Friend or Acquaintance but by means of Another, was ever any Mortal accused of any Ofrence or Crime, how heinous soever, but he (though personally convicted of it) laid the Fault on Another, and at the very worst, when no Excuse can be had to palliate what is laid to his Charge, will he not say, That Another tempted him; Nine out of Ten that ever were laid in Prison, have they not said, It was because they were bound for Another. Nay, if any Person should be occasionally Complimented, (perhaps for the only good Action of his Life) will he not say, That it was done in Service of Another, to whom he never was obliged, and who after shewed him Ingratitude? I speak of this meerly as the common Opinion, which you well know to be such; and I might add to this, the great Superiority which I bear over you in the Esteem of the World, in all Perfections whatsoever. If, for Instance, in Conversation any Present should extol Another for any good Quality, either for Integrity, Valour, or Wit, nay, even Money, which is the Foundation of all Things esteemed reputable. I say, for Instance, supposing there were twenty Gentlemen present, was it ever known that the remaining Nineteen would not aloud, (or as the reigning Fashion is among well-bred People in saying their Prayers) mentally tell him, he must except One? Was it ever said in Duelling, the singular and proper Entertainment of the Beau mond, 'Whenever any of this distinguishable Part of the human Species, being set together by the Ears by Another, and do really and actually behave not as rational Creatures, but to shew they have some Pretentions, of what kind soever to Manhood;' Will it not be universally said, that One hath wounded, or, perhaps kill'd Another. In Disputes at Law, either they, their Heirs, Executors, Administrators, and so forth, One ever obtains Judgments, or Decrees, (commonly both) against Another; and though either should appeal to the House of Lords of England, it is always allowed to be for One against Another. This I defy you to deny, for you cannot but know that I can prove it upon Record, which though it should be expensive, yet as you have some Cause of Knowledge of my Temper, you must be convinced, that there is no One, who would not hazard his Soul, (which you may maliciously alledge, no One makes much Account of) but that which ought to be dear to every Gentleman, his Reputation to have Revenge against Another; but as to Life or Fortune, you know there is no One (who is really a Gentleman) but disposes of Both on very slight Occasions: Happy would it be for the World, as well as for themselves, that such should punctually dispose of both together, which, though indeed seldom, yet sometimes happens, and often more by good Luck than by good Guiding! In short, Sir, to end this Argument, which, I believe, you scarcely will presume to controvert, since the World was, One however endeavoured to get a Superiority over Another, and ever hath succeeded, excepting some few Instances, as when One hath had all Advantages of a War, Another hath had all the Advantages of a Peace; but this is an Affair of such a Nature, that through a Multiplicity of Affairs, One is excusable in having over-look'd it; besides it is of so little importance, that it is scarce worth the Attention of any One, neither need he be solicitous to court the Embraces even of the lovely willing Nymph, OCCASION, whatever Advances she may make him, and in whose Power, alone it is to remedy such an Over-sight: But let the Affairs of this World be conducted as they may, the Wise acknowledge that it is all One, or, at least, it will be so some time about one hundred Years hence; as such of them as are skilled in Astrology have often assured me by Word of Mouth, nay, went so far as to say, that they would give it me under their Hands, or to any One (they having a great Esteem for my Family) annexed to a proper Scheme of Calculation, on which they would depend their whole Reputation, That no One, now alive, should ever complain that they were thereby deceived: And all This Gratis.

Writing in any One's Commendation, I know is irksome and tedious to Another, because the Animosity between us is such, (I must say the Fault is yours) that you cannot be brought to believe any Thing favourable of me, more than I can of you; but admitting this as a Truth, I would with all the Moderation I have ever been Master of, recommend to your serious and deliberate Thought, whether any Variance or Animosity of what kind soever should come between One and Another by any Dispute which might arise between Mr CIBBER and Mr. SHERIDAN? For my part, I speak only as One, Another may take it as he plea•es, that the Matter in contest between those two Gentlemen, in my humble Opinion, very little, if at all, concerns either One or Another; but the Attention of all Europe being Happily awaked by this and some other Matters of Importance, as every One wishes his own Ease, and never enjoys Satisfaction 'till he finds it is impossible to obtain it; I would, I confess, for my own sake, make any decent or Gentleman-like Advances towards an entire Peace, and will fully acknowledge all wherein I am conscious I ever gave you Offence, hoping you will take it well that I use a little Asperity, which you cannot but indulge me in (you being an Author, and of consequence dealt in Satyr, towards which your own Conduct could not fail to furnish you with a great deal of, tho' possibly not sufficient Materials for a Livelihood) all Writers of every Class, not excepting such as were never in a Class at all, many of which being supported (by the Printer) for abusing themselves in the most outragious Manner, in suffering the Press to groan with their Labours, and bring forth Brats to publick View, when all Endeavours of their Friends to procure Abortion proved abortive.

I first, therefore admit that many a One has wilfully abused and slandered Another, yet notwithstanding this, the partiality of the World towards me is such, that the entire blame hath ever been laid on Another; One, I confess, hath often defrauded Another, but is it not most certain that Another has been equally culpable, and moreover, in the Opinion of the World, Another is a greater Rogue than any One. One may have betrayed Another; but is that any excuse for Another who has often done the like, both to One and Another, which Circumstance doubtless, aggravates the Offence in the Opinion both of One and Another.

These few Instances, many more the like, I could produce, but as every One abhors prolixity and tedious recitals, I shall restrain my Hand, especially, what more I might say, being equally known both by One and Another, and proceed more directly to the Matter occasioning the present Difference between One and Another.

It is a surprising thing to me, that Mr. SHERIDAN's not thinking himself fine enough, should ever be a Cause of Contest between One and Another, and unhappily at a Time when every One wished to be reconciled with Another. To do both One and Another Justice, I must confess, that on a late Occasion, when One refused to do his Duty, Another endeavoured to do it for him; but can that in any manner justify Another for busying himself in an Affair where neither One nor Another had any manner of Concern. If the Spoils of Julius Caesar were offered unto Cato, as the Historian Titus Livius in his Decade XII. relateth, and that High-spirited Stoick Philosopher, as Mr. CIBBER in his Letter, Page 1743 affirms, cast them aside with Indignation, of what great Importance is that either to One or to Another? Especially that unhappy incident having happened at a Time when our very Grandfathers were scarcely thought of. It is true it may cast some Reflection on the Wisdom, for which Cato is so celebrated by all the Antients, to a Man, and is celebrated for it by our own Countryman Mr. Joseph Addison, tho' he has thought fit to put it in the Mouth of an Enemy, in the following Words, viz. ‘CATO, the World talks loudly of your WISDOM. ’

We might indeed amuse ourselves in Discourse on so odd and out of the way an Occurrence, and console ourselves with the Reflection which naturally occurs from thence, that wisest Men have ever had their blind Sides, not excepting even Solomon the Magnificent Emperor of the Turks, so renowned for his Adage; but why should Another take upon him to ill treat any One on Account of a Blemish in the Character of so great a Man as CATO? By what appears to me this is wholly calculated and intended on set purpose to revive the usual Feuds between One and Another, and as far as any Forecast One can be supposed to have, which Another may equally attribute to himself, this Affair must terminate in a Paper War, in which you cannot but know One is as well able and willing to undertake as Another, which if not speedily prevented shall be prosecuted with the utmost Vigour of One as well as Another. Mean Time I beg leave to subscribe myself.

Yours, &c.
Dublin, July the 22d, 1743.
P. S. Your speedy Answer may prevent much Mischief.

Mr. SHERIDAN's Address to the Town.

I Was in hopes I should not have had Occasion to trouble the Publick any more, but farther Misfortunes falling on me, and farther Crimes laid to my Charge, have put me under the Necessity of Vindicating myself.

It has been said, that I spirited up the Scholars to prevent Mr. CIBBER's preforming last Thursday.—In answer to this, I most solemnly declare, that upon reading the Advertisement which they had put in Faulkner's Journal, without my Knowledge, out of Zeal to my Interest, I made it my Business to find out the Gentlemen who had drawn it up, and by all the Arguments I was Master of, drew a Promise from them that they would not go to the Play-House the above Night. For the Truth of this, I appeal to themselves. They have already publish'd an Advertisement in Reilly's Paper of last Saturday, in which they have entirely clear'd me, and given Reasons why they altered their Resolution. Most of these Gentlemen I was hardly known to; if I had had a Design to have form'd a Party in the College, I think it was most probable that I should have applied to such as I had the Pleasure of knowing: I appeal to them then, or any of them, whether I ever spoke to them on that Head, unless it was to use their Endeavours to prevent any such Resolution being enter'd into.

Tho' the Publick may have but little Regard to my bare Word on this Occasion, yet if they consider that after so solemn a Declaration, if what I say be false, I put it in the Power of any one of these Gentlemen, at any Time, to prove me a Scoundrel, if they consider how low I must fall, even in their Opinions, should I give what they know to be a Lie, under my Hand in a publick Manner, I hope no one will think that I would with my Eyes open commit such a Piece of Folly.

I well knew the fatal Consequences of forming a Party, and too well foresaw the Use my Enemies would make of it, to my Disadvantage. For, indeed, what could I propose to myself by it, but to bring the Hatred of the Publick upon me, and what End would it answer? I never look'd on Mr. CIBBER as an Antagonist of mine; I always had so mean an Opinion of him in his Characters in Tragedy, that I would not even wish that he should have the Reputation of being such by any Opposition made on my Part; I hope the Publick will readily believe that I had no Cause to be afraid of his appearing in any Character of mine.

As to the impudent and scurrilous Epistle which Mr. CIBBER publish'd, I was determined to take no Notice of it, for I thought him in every Respect beneath my lowest Resentment; I did not care to wrestle with a Sweep-chimney: But as I find there are a few who do not know the Man, led away by his false Representations, and as he has endeavoured to abuse that noble Principle, for which this Kingdom is so justly famed, and which I hope we shall never lose, I mean that generous Spirit of Hospitality derived to us from our Forefathers, to his own wicked Ends and Purposes, I think it necessary for my own Sake, and for the Sake of the Publick, to unmask this Jago, and lay him open to the World. In order to do this I shall beg Leave to state one Fact.

The Night that I was to have performed Cato (an unfortunate Night for me) when a thousand unforeseen Accidents had thrown me into such a disorder'd State of Mind as I had never known before, I found of a sudden Mr. CIBBER's Behaviour, which before was very complaisant, or rather meanly submissive, was totally changed; instead of trying all Methods to appease a Person beside himself with Passion, he did all he could to aggravate Matters: When I asked him what I should do in this Exigence, for want of a Robe? He answered, somewhat shortly, play without a Robe: When, upon that, I laid open to him what a despicable Figure I should make, he turn'd upon his Heel, and said, D—n me if I care what you do, the Play shall not stand still for you; and immediately went and ordered the Prompter to draw up the Curtain. When I heard this, I was stunn'd at the Insolence of the Fellow, who neither had any Right to command in that House, nor was in any Shape interested in the Event of that Night. It put me past all Patience, and the Terror I was under, lest the Curtain should be drawn up before I had Time to make an Apology, at a Time that I found myself incapable of playing, made me rush like a Madman precipitately on the Stage, before I had considered what I should say to the Audience. Mr. CIBBER, to my great Surprize, came on immediately after me, and very officiously (to give it no harsher Term) offered to read the Part of Cato, at the same Time that he was to play Syphax. I say officiously; for if I can make it appear that he was no way concerned, either in Point of Interest or Money, the World will judge so too.

Mr. CIBBER knows, that the Actors had determined to seize on the Receipts of that Night, and all the succeeding ones, except the next, (the entire Receipts of which were to have been mine) to pay themselves their Salaries, of which they had been defrauded by the Roguery of some of the Managers. He knows, that the Reason of his continuing to play on afterwards, was only to fulfil his Agreement, that he might have an Opportunity of suing the Persons he contracted with for the Sum stipulated. He knows (notwithstanding his plausible Pretence in his Epistle, for chusing the Characters which he gave out) that he intended to perform, in these Words, "And was it not reasonable for us to propose acting such Pieces as might excite the greatest Curiosity in the Town, whereby the Managers might be enabled to pay us and the rest of the Company." I say, he knows that not a Shilling of this was either to go to the Managers or to them. He knows, that he had a Lawyer's Opinion, That it was not necessary for him to perform the Number of Nights mentioned tn their Agreement, it was sufficient if he was ready io perform them in the limited Time. He knows, that he reckoned into one of the Number the Play of the Rehearsal, which was dismissed the Night before. What then could prompt Mr. CIBBER to make such an extravagant and impudent Proposal to the Audience, as that of reading the Character of Cato, when at the same Time he was to play Syphax. I say, what could prompt him to give himself so much unnecessary Trouble, if he was no way obliged to it, either in Point of Duty, Interest, or Money. It was a malicious and wicked Scheme which he had long had in Agitation, and which my Misfortune that Night first gave him an Opportunity of putting in Practice. It was a Design of building his Fame upon my Ruin.

In order to prove this I shall, first of all, give a short Account of my Behaviour to Mr. CIBBER, since his Arrival in this Kingdom. To proceed in his own Method, I shall beg Leave to ask him a few Questions.

Is he not conscious, that had it not been for me he could not have set his Foot on any Stage in this Kingdom?

Did I not quash a Cartel, which was signed by the Managers of both Companies, under severe Penalties, to exclude him from acting on either Stage?

Did I not, as a Stranger, treat him with all Civility, tho' the unhappy Character he labour'd under prevented my having any Friendship with him?

Was I not a principal Means of preventing the Trial between Mr. Sloper and him, and the Letters which passed between him and his Wife, from being reprinted here soon after his Arrival: And did I not commission a Friend to offer the Expence of the Impression, out of my own Pocket, rather than a Stranger should be hurt?

Did I not promise him to study any new Character for his second Benefit? (A Favour which I had refused to others much more worthy of it.)

Did I not, when I found Mr. Philips trifling with him, and refusing to perform the Contract, before his Face declare, that I never would in any Shape be concern'd with Mr. Philips hereafter, if he did not pay him, nay, more, offer'd to play with Mr. Cibber in the other House; to try by that Means to make up his Loss?

Did not Mr. Cibber say on that Occasion, that I behav'd with such Honour, and laid him under such Obligations, that he only wish'd for an Opportunity to return them?

The first he had was the above mention'd unhappy Night. Might not one reasonably expect after all this, that Mr. Cibber would not try to injure me if I did nothing to injure him? But he had worn the Mask too long, he found an Opportunity of throwing it off, and leap'd at it with the greatest Eagerness, notwithstanding the many Obligations I had laid him under to me; he could not forgive me, that my Name brought full Houses when he was obliged to dismiss, or to play to empty Benches. His Envy, Spleen, and Malice, which long lay smother'd in his Breast, now burst forth into a Blaze. He saw me under the Necessity of disappointing an Audience, and consequently disobliging them. He contributed as far as in him lay to the one, and was determin'd to improve the other.

I have already shewn that he was not obliged, by any Principle of Duty or Profit, to this Work of Supererogation; it must be then from some other Motive, Complaisance to the Audience, perhaps.—Impudent as he is he cannot think that the doing so unprecedented a Thing, as that of reading a capital Part, and playing another at the same Time, could give them any Pleasure; an Attempt which no one but himself could ever have thought of, and which even his own Hardiness must have been shocked at had he not had the blackest Malice in his Heart to prompt him to it. He saw the Audience greatly offended at the Disappointment they met with in my not being able to perform, and very justly too, fince it was not in my Power to give them the Reasons which prevented it. He laid hold of this Opportunity, at once, to run me down in the Opinion of the World, and ingratiate himself by the Appearance of an officious Zeal to do every Thing that might give Pleasure to the Publick. He hoped by this Means to drive me out of the Kingdom, and to establish himself here for the next Winter, as he knows it is impossible for him to return to London. This is the more probable, as I had often declar'd in Confidence to him, that I should never be able to stand the Shock of any Party form'd against me. His subsequent Behaviour is a manifest Proof of his Design: For after I had left the Playhouse, and sent Word, in the Heat of Passion, that I should never play there again, Mr Cibber, for fear I should cool upon it, or try to reconcile the Favour of the Town to me again, in a violent Hurry gave out three Plays together (a most unusual Thing, unless in case of Benefits) in two of which he was to appear in Characters of mine. By this Means, let me have been ever so innocent, had not the other Company been in Town, I must have quit the Field to him, and left him triumphant.

This was not all—

When I endeavour'd to vindicate myself to the Publick, and make an Apology for not performing, Mr. Cibber undertook to answer me. What Right, or what Colour like to Right, had he to undertake it? I made no mention of him in the Paper which I publish'd, tho' I had a just Reason to do it; because I did not care to be embroil'd with a Man of his trouble some Temper, who has always kept every Theatre in which he was engag'd, in hot Water. I had hitherto had no Quarrel to him, I had done him some Favours, should he not if he had the least Humanity (to leave Gratitude out of the Question) have endeavour'd rather to clear me in the Opinion of the Town than endeavour to hurt me, I cannot find that he himself has given any tolerable Colour for his entering so eavalierly a Volunteer in the Cause. His setting out, where certainly he ought to have given some Reason for his undertaking such a Part, is no more than this; "Mr. Sheridan, Your injudicious Disappointment of the Company last Thursday, who expected to see you in the Character of Cato, and your indiscreet Attempt to dismiss the Audience, having, as you confess, become a Town-talk, and given Rise to many idle Falshoods, merely calculated to injure the Innocent, you must excuse me if I relate the Fact, strictly adhering to Truth." So that here he does not pretend to give any Reason, only, You must excuse me.

Here and thro' the whole Epistle, you may observe by his ill-natur'd and bitter Expressions, his personal Pique and Spleen to me, who never had injur'd him. Mr. Cibber mentions in the Course of his Letter, that he heard I had spread about several Reports to his Disadvantage, but why did Mr. Cibber, whose Motto to this Epistle is, It is a kind of Slander to trust to Rumour, so readily believe those Reports of one with whom he had hitherto liv'd on a good Footing. Mr. Giffard had heard the same Thing in regard to himself, but he, like a Gentleman, came and ask'd me the Truth of it, and I satisfy'd him. Why did not Mr. Cibber, if he had the least of a Gentleman about him, behave in the same Manner, before he ventur'd to publish them to the World, and draw Conclusions from them, as Truths, to my Disadvantage? No, Mr. Cibber neither wanted, nor wish'd that I should justify myself; his Affairs were grown so desperate, that he had no Hope left but, by a Train of villainous Calumnies, and a Prosusion of scurrilous Language, to try to make me do something monstrous, to plunge me still deeper in the Displeasure of the Town; at least he had Hopes that this Conduct might rouze (perhaps) the indiscreet Zeal of some of my Friends or Well-wishers, to attempt something against him which he would be sure to lay at my Door. Unhappily for me, the latter Part succeeded to his Wish.

To prove that this was his Principle, I shall only make use of one Argument. I shall not pretend to justify or condemn the Gentlemen of the College, it is not my Business, and the World may easily see how ticklish a Point that would be for me to handle. All I shall endeavour to do, is, to prove that Mr. Cibber, knowingly and willingly, brought it upon himself. He treated the Advertisement which they had put into the Journal, in a contemptuous and insolent Way, on a Supposition that they were mine. But no one shall make me believe that any Man of common Sense, as I will allow Mr. Cibber to be, could suppose me either foolish enough or base enough to do it. Had I wrote such an Advertisement in the Name of the Gentlemen of the College, was it not natural for them to enquire who it was that dar'd to make use of their Name, and had I done it, what Punishment would have been too great for my Presumption?

Mr. Cibber might easily have known of Mr. Faulkner, whether they had left it there or no. Upon this Probability then, that he must have known it was theirs, what could Mr. Cibber expect from a Set of young Gentlemen, who are, thro' their Youth, warm? What could he hope for, but that they would shew their Resentment for this contemptuous Manner of treating what they had wrote? Nay, must he not expect, that probably they would think themselves bound in Honour to take some publick Method of convincing him that they had wrote it, lest the Calumny which he had cast upon me, thro' their Silence, should be fix'd upon me. People may wonder that Mr. Cibber should run such a Risque from such a Motive; but he has been so accustom'd to Things of this Nature, that they appear to him but as common Matters. The Pleasure he proposed to himself in having an Opportunity of displaying his Eloquence the next Day, of throwing at the Feet of the Publick an unfortunate Stranger unhospitably us'd, and above all the joyful Hope of being able to fix this Disturbance upon me, as it's Author, wou'd, he thought, more than compensate for any Thing he could suffer.

Mr. Cibber is the more inexcusable, as I took all Pains to prevent his doing any rash Thing, which might draw more Odium on him from the Gentlemen of the College; I told Mr. Wright and several others of the Players, that it might reach his Ears, that I had been with the Gentlemen of the College, to prevent any Mischief, not for Mr. Cibber's sake, (for I owed him no Favour) but my own: That I had laid open to them the ill Consequences that would attend me, should any Disturbance happen at the Theatre, that upon this, they had all promised in a solemn Manner not to go; and I bid them assure Mr. Cibber, that he need not fear any Interruption. Notwithstanding this, he published his Epistle afterwards, wherein the Gentlemen of the College thought themselves personally ill-treated, and were rouz'd into such a Rage, as no Endeavours of mine or all Mankind could have appeas'd.

Does not this Conduct of his evidently prove, that he shut his Eyes to Conviction, that he was determin'd at all Events to pursue the Scheme he had laid down; it either must be owing to this, or to the strangest Infatuation that ever possessed Man. As to Mr. Cibber's Postscript, I read it without any Emotion, and heartily thank him for it. He has there painted himself in stronger Colours than either I could, or my Humanity would suffer me to do. His ridiculous Challenge, in the true Stile of an Ancient Pistol, sent to me by all the News-Boys in Town, I despise. He has put himself, by his Behaviour, far beneath the Footing of a Gentleman. I shall go about my Business as usual; if I am attack'd, I shall endeavour to defend myself, nor shall I ever be afraid of any who dare do Wrong. And now I have done with him—I am sorry I have been compelled to shew any Man in so bad a Light, but the World must do me the Justice, to own, he has forced me to do it in my own Defence. I shall trouble my Head no farther with him, but leave him to Heav'n,

And to the Thorns which in his Bosom lodge,

To goad and sting him.

It is now Time I should address myself to the Publick. There are two Things laid to my Charge; one is, That I spirited up the Gentlemen of the College to raise a Disturbance in the Theatre.—A heavy Charge indeed, if true: I have done all that is in the Power of Man to clear myself of it, and I hope there is none of the least Humanity but will acquit me. The other is, That I willingly disobliged the Publick in not playing the Part of Cato.

I published an Apology, not without consulting a Gentleman, of great Knowledge and Experience in the World, in it, which, perhaps, the over Easiness of my Friends thought a sufficient Defence. Perhaps, indeed, I imposed on myself as well as them.

If there be any who think I meant them an Offence, that I did it thro' Wantonness, or thro' Contempt of the Audience, I heartily ask their Pardon; and the only Way I have left to make them Amends, is to exert myself in that Character on Thursday next, if they will honour me with their Company that Night. The Matter is come to this Issue, that I must either rise or fall in the Opinion of the World by the Event of that Night. If I am the Person Mr. Cibber represents; if I was an unworthy Member of the College; (which my old Cotemporaries there, and those Ornaments of Learning, the Fellows, who knew my Behaviour, will hardly take his Word for) if I am not fit to be received in a Company of Strollers (for which Compliment the many People of Fashion, who have honoured me with their Acquaintance in private, and their Approbation in publick, are much obliged to him) I am not, indeed, worthy of your Countenance: You all know me; I have lived amongst you; if I have the least Title to your Favour, I hope the Good-nature of my Friends, and the Benevolence of the Publick, which I have so often, and in so extraordinary a Manner, experienced, will not desert me in this Exigence, nor suffer me to fall a Sacrifice to the mean Artifices, and be banished my Country by the wicked Schemes of a—no, I will not put myself so much on a Level with him as to call him by the Name he deserves—who, I am well assur'd, dare not shew his Face in his own.

If any Expressions too warm or indiscreet have drop'd from me, in the Course of this Address, I hope for the Indulgence of the Publick, when I inform them that I have been obliged to draw it up almost in the space of one Day, and that too in no very easy state of Mind. For I question whether the innocent Man, tho' he has great Advantages over the other, feels less than the Man of Guilt, while he is labouring under a Load of Calumny. My whole Intention was to endeavour to clear myself, with all Duty, Deference and Submission to the Publick, whose humble Servant I am,

THOMAS SHERIDAN.

A proper REPLY to a late scurrilous LIBEL, entitled, Mr. SHERIDAN's ADDRESS to the Town.

Parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus!

What damn'd costive Poet hast thou been reading?

CONGREVE.

Pray, Sir, when you write, do you let Blood and take Physicke, or make use of stew'd Pruants only?
Vide the REHEARSAL.

And write about it, Goddess, and about it.

POPE.

Wednesday Afternoon, July 27, 1743.

WHEN I call this a Proper Reply, I mean such a one as may be fitting for the Publick to read, and not such a one as Sheridan ought to receive. Without playing the Critick on his nonsensical, tautological Stile, and rambling Inconnections, I shall only take this Notice of his Scurrility: Foul Language, in an Address to the Publick, is an Affront to their Ears: 'tis a Breach of good Manners, and almost as unpardonable as throwing Glasses, &c. in Company. There's neither Wit, Sense, Pleasantry, or Bravery in either.—That it is said by many that Mr. Sheridan spirited up some Persons to create a Disturbance in the Theatre, is a known truth, and it is also a truth that many firmly believe it, from well-grounded Reasons. SHERIDAN's pretending to know nothing of the Advertisement and Letter, first publish'd in Mr. Faulkner's Journal, is not at all surprising, after many other Things he has modestly ventur'd to assert, even when Numbers know the contrary. Mr. ARNE told me at the Rainbow Coffee-house, on Wednesday last, in Company with several others, that he had been just talking with Mr. Faulkner at the Globe Coffee house, who, among other Things, declared his Opinion, That it was indiscreet in Mr. Sheridan to cause, or suffer, such Things to be publish'd; 'twould be more likely to prejudice than serve him, &c. and that he had advis'd Mr. Sheridan to the contrary—whose Reply was—He was determin'd.—Besides this, 'tis notorious he had several Persons to dine or sup with him, on different Days, and had lost no Time, nor spared any Money in Chair Hire, &c. to alarm all Parts of the Town, as well as his particular Intimates, he was an injur'd Person, forsooth! tho' in what, has not yet appear'd. Add to this his previous Declarations to any one's appearing in any Part he had thought of playing; his threatning them with an ill Reception from his Friends, over whom he boasted a particular Sway (no great Compliment to them by the way) and what must we think of this Man; or what Regard ought the Publick to have either to his Word or Oath?

The Riot that ensued on the Thursday following, is known to the whole Town; their Sentiments of it will better come from their Mouths than my Pen.—The Town's generous and uncommon Reception and Protection of me since, was an Instance what an Abhorrence they had of the former rash Behaviour of a few, misled by a very bad Man:—I must have Recourse to his Vocabulary, e'er I can find Words low enough to paint him. The extraordinary kind Treatment the Publick afforded me on Monday Night in the Character of Othello, I am conscious, was more owing to their spirited hospitable Usage of a Stranger, than any Merits, my Attempts to please them, could lay claim to:—I have a sincere and grateful Sense of their Favours; it warms my Heart, and I shall always think it a Duty incumbent on me, loudly to acknowledge an Act so much to their Honour: I confess it here, and shall not forget it when in England, to which Place I propose returning speedily;—tho' the modest, the brave Mr. Sheridan, whose Veracity is to be ranked with his other Virtues, is pleased to assert the Impossibility of my returning. I shall contradict him by Facts, not by dirty Language.

Let me inform him, all bad Expressions retort upon the Slanderer; let then his own scurrilous Libel stick on himself, till he wipes it off like a Gentleman. His Affectation of treating me with Contempt, as an Actor, is such a pretty Piece of presumptive Vanity, that his choice Opinion alone should lead the Town, and such a paltry Puff of his own Praise, as is only fit to be laugh'd at—But how, if the Great Sheridan should have given something, under his own Hand, quite contradictory to this mean Opinion of a Man whom, he says, he had no Cause to be afraid of? What will Gentlemen think of Tommy then? Why,—as they think of him already.—As I chuse Facts, rather than meer Assertions, to contradict his Calumny and Falshoods, I desire the Patience of the Publick to read the following Letter, sent from Mr. Sheridan to me, in a Letter inclos'd to Mr. Giffard, then in London; the Date says when.

A true Copy of Mr. Sheridan's Letter to Mr. Cibber.

March 22d. 1742.
SIR,

THO' I have not the favour of being known to you, yet I make bold to write to you about an Affair, in which you are concern'd as well as I. I hear the Gentlemen of Aungier-street Theatre, intend to make Proposals to you about a Summer Expedition to this Kingdom; as I had some Thoughts of doing the same in favour of the People of Smock-alley, this Intelligence has hasten'd my Application to you personally, which otherwise might appear too abrupt. There are many Reasons why I should think it our mutual Interest to play in one House. In the first place, if we act in different Houses, the Town will possibly be divided, and the Receipts of both will necessarily be much lessen'd. Not that I should expect this upon the footing of Merit, but I know not how it is, whether it be their Partiality to their Countryman, or whether it be owing to the powerful Interest of a Number of Friends that I have in this City, but there never was known such Encouragement, such Applause given to any Actor, or such full Houses as since I appear'd on the Stage. Mr. Giffard will inform you that Dublin is not like London, we have not two Audiences in the whole City, especially as the Town is now more empty than it has ever been known. Besides, as it is not improbable, but that we may be together next Winter, it will be a great Advantage to practice such Plays together, as we can both appear in I am commission'd to assure you from the Managers of Smock-alley, and I will also do it from myself, that you shall have all the Encouragement that you can expect, they are as willing, and they are as well able to do it as those in Aungier-street. I should be obliged to you, if you would let me know as soon as possible, whether you have any design of coming hither, what are your Terms, and how soon it would be convenient for you to come. You may think, it is my own Interest that has prompted me to write to you, 'tis very true, I have no small Cause to be afraid of so potent an Antagonist, but I believe upon mature Deliberation, you will also find it your Interest to be with us. If you will favour me with a speedy Answer, you will extremely oblige

Your Admirer and very humble Servant THOMAS SHERIDAN.

To this I wrote an Answer, I believe, not unbecoming a Gentleman to send, or a Gentleman to receive:—Sheridan may print it, if he pleases; I hope he won't alter it tho'.—As I have been honoured with a Message from the Heads of the College, to signify their Detestation of the outrageous Proceedings at the Theatre, on the Night Othello was first intended; and those Gentlemen having absolutely disclaimed any of the Advertisements being any Act of the College; but, on the contrary, look on 'em as a Reflection and Affront on that worthy Body, let Sheridan make 'em Libellers, not I; I say Sheridan,—Sheridan who carried that Piece of Rhetorick last Friday to Mr. Faulkner, who prudentially chose not to affront his worthy Fellow Citizens, as he declar'd to Sheridan:—indeed, Master Tommy, to soften it, it seems, alter'd the Word Butchers to Ruffians; a tender Apellation! and then was angry with Mr. Faulkner, who positively refused to insert it: Some other Printers did insert it, who have confessed, Sheridan brought it to 'em. Here it may not be improper to transcribe Sheridan's third Paragraph of his modest Address, &c.

Tho' the Publick may have but little Regard to my bare Word on this Occasion, yet if they consider that after so solemn a Declaration, if what I say be false, I put it in the Power of any one of these Gentlemen, at any Time, to prove me a SCOUNDREL, if they consider how low I must fall, even in their Opinions, should I give what they know to be a LIE, under my Hand in a publick Manner, I hope no one will think that I would with my Eyes open commit such a Piece of Folly.

O Sheridan! Sheridan! Quae te dementia caepit?

You little thought, when you wrote this, that Mr. Faulkner had declar'd his refusing the Advertisement, or that Mrs. Reilly had sent Word to the College, that You brought the Advertisement to her, in which you chang'd the Word Butchers to Ruffians; and by which, in the Name of the abus'd College, you clear yourself of knowing any thing of the Matter: Any one may be satisfied of the Truth of this, who will give themselves the Trouble to call at the Printers.

As to the Insinuation of my procuring Ruffians (as the well bred Sheridan may stile them) to be at the Theatre, I appeal to the Publick, if I have not always, in any Discouse I ever held on the Subject, made it my earnest Request, every Step should be avoided that might disturb the publick Peace; and I hoped none would be omitted to preserve it. If any honest Man will step forth, and say, I have not acted thus, or ever desir'd any one to be present, to give me a forced Applause, let this, I say, be proved, and I'll bow me to the Shame Tom Sheridan deserves for all his Falshoods.

In answer to the Message I was favour'd with from the College, as aforementioned, I begg'd my humble Respects might be acceptable; and tho' I was pressed to mention the Names of those who were concerned in the Disturbance, I desir'd to be excus'd, since, as I was a Stranger to their Persons, I might possibly be misinform'd; and, tho' I had been advised to address the Provost on this Occasion, nay, farther, to apply for a Lord Chief Justice's Warrant, to be served on the Aggressors—I declin'd all Proceedings of this Sort; tho' I have an undoubted Right to the Protection of the Laws, equal with any of my fellow Subjects. I had Charity enough to consider this, as an inconsiderate Act of warm Blood, and more the Effect of Partiality to this artful Man, than any ill will to me; I imagined their cooler Reason would disprove it, I believed their Judgments would not repeat it, and I declared, without fresh Occasion, never to disturb any one about it; I have kept my Word.

But, to go on with you, Sir, Pray what were those thousand unforeseen Accidents that so disorder'd your dear Mind, on the fatal Night you mention? Why have you not recited 'em? I call'd on you to do it in my Epistle to you. Did you not appear to every one very tranquil, till there was no great Hopes of a crouded Audience; still your Philosophy prevailed, till it appear'd the Robe did not appear; that indeed "inflam'd your noble Liver and made you rage;" well, but "on a sudden Mr. Cibber's Behaviour, which before was complaisant, or rather meanly submissive (a generous and grateful Expression, for my treating you all along, with more Breeding than you deserv'd, or probably ever understood or practis'd) "was totally changed:" This Assertion every one, behind the Scenes that Night, can deny; I appeal to Mr. Giffard, Mr. Wright, and many others there, if I did not advise you, like a Friend and a Gentleman, not to do an indiscreet uncivil Thing toward the Audience, let Philips or any one be to blame;—and so, "on my ordering the Curtain to be drawn up, you rush'd precipitately on the Stage:" These Lies are as monstrous as the Father of 'em. I never ordered the Curtain to rise till the Audience accepted my Offer of having Cato read. Did you not undress yourself from Head to Foot, and positively swear, to me and several, you would inform the Audience you would not play, on account of your Disappointment? Were you not in your own Cloaths when you appeared? And did you not farther, even then, [*] abuse the Ears of the Audience, with saying, Philips had lock'd up your Cloaths, tho' many saw you dressed for the Part, as aforementioned?

If I chose to Play on, to fulfil my Agreement, which the Managers would not release me from, was I not right?—The Actors, you say, determin'd to seize on the Receipt of that Night, to pay their Salaries; 'Tis true, You, Mr. Morris, and Mr. Wright agreed, they should have that House, not having received any Salary for three Weeks;—But, you propos'd to receive the next for your self alone: And had taken care to seize the best Receipt taken at your Playing (viz. the first Night of Cato) which did not amount to forty Pounds.—Who then acted honestly, I, whochose not to dismiss the Audience, or you, who to the disappointment of the poor unpaid People, would have depriv'd 'em of the Receipt of that House, by a Dismission? What could I propose by Playing on, but justly to fulfil the Agreements on my part, which the unfair Managers would neither release us from, nor Pay us for? Certainly I ought to take all legal means to recover, what I have been so unjustly depriv'd of. The Dismission of the Rehearsal, (a Play too often repeated, given out by Philips, on a By-Day, against the Sense of the Company, when you were yourself afraid of Playing) was the imprudent Act of Philips; tho' at the time the Audience were sent away, every one allows, there was a better Prospect of an Audience, than there was at the same Hour, to the Play of Cato—If my offering to the Audience to read Cato and Play Syphax, was, as your Wit and Modesty terms it, an impudent and extravagant Proposal; what sort of Language would you bestow on them who allow'd of it if you durst? The trouble was not unnecessary, tho' fatiguing enough; it was both my Duty and Interest to act, as the Audience directed: And, by their Appointment I play'd Syphax, and read Cato. I wonder you have not publish'd your Displeasure towards them, for the terrible Mortification your little Pride, mean Vanity, poor Envy, and rancarous Heart felt, from the unbounded Good-nature they shew'd me on that Occasion—But this it seems. Tommy says, was a malicious wicked Scheme, I had long in Agitation. Sure, I must have dealt with the Devil, Tommy, to have foreknown you could have acted, so suddenly as you did, the part of such an extravagant Fool: Who could have suspected it? And why should I, Chicken, wish to build my Fame on thy poor Ruin? I question if I did not pass for an Actor of Reputation, when you probably eat Spoon-Meat; to build my Fame upon such Ruins, were as low, as a General's hoping to gain Reputation, from his laying siege to, and demolishing a set of, Cotts or Cabins. I ask pardon for the sudden Extravaganza of the Comparison, as far as it relates to the Officer; but shall not apologize for what part relates to you: You will be honour'd by any Comparison.—

Well but, Tommy says, my Fame was design'd on his Ruin; to prove it, he'll give an Account of his Behaviour to Mr. Cibber, since his Arrival in this Kingdom—very pretty Reasoning this, truly! How was your Behaviour to prove my Design?—Prithee, Boy, go to School again; learn to make Themes, and to mend your Manners.—Well, to proceed, Tommy will ask Mr. Cibber a few Questions, which have no Analogy, nor are at all apposite to any Question Mr. Cibber has made Tommy; no, Sophister Tommy, can't answer 'em:—Very well, Child, go on, I'll answer your Questions. They are as follow.

Quest. 1. Is he (Mr. Cibber) not conscious, that had it not been for me he could not have set his Foot on any Stage in this Kingdom?

Answ. How could I be conscious I could not, without your Assistance, set my foot on any Stage here, after you had by Letter of Complement, invited me to one Theatre; and Mr. DESBRISAY, and other Gentlemen (Men of Worth and Honour) had, by Message, and Letter of Attorney granted to Mr. SWAN (who came to England on purpose) invited me to the other? Needs there more be said to this?

Quest. 2. Did I not quash a Cartel, which was signed by the Managers of both Companies, under severe Penalties, to exclude him from acting on either Stage?

Answ. How came your Power to quash a [*] Cartel? Or, who had a Right to make such Cartel? That Mr. Swan (he is absent, therefore to be treated tenderly) drew one is certain; that some injudicious People sign'd it, I believe: But still, Aungier-street was open to receive me—the same Terms proffer'd me,—nay, would I have engag'd alone, double the Terms, which I am now to get when I can. But, Mr. Sheridan's particular Application, and Perswasions, have drawn me into an Agreement I have but too much Reason to Repent.

Quest. 3. Did I not, as a Stranger, treat him with all civility, tho' the unhappy Character he labour'd under prevented my having any Friendship with him?

Answ. And so, thou, condescending Creature, didst treat me with all Civility. And, pray, why should not you?—or could you suppose, you would not hear of it, whenever you behav'd otherwise? I think you have, and I believe you will still:—Oh! but my unhappy Character prevented your having any particular Friendship with me; I shall always think it a happy Part of my Character, not to have been too far inveigled by you; and a Happiness in my Circumstances, that you have given me timely Warning, not to enter into any Intimacy, into which, my good-natur'd Credulity, and your wheedling Cunning, might have betray'd me: I have suffered too much already, 'tis well known, by such Caitiffs.

Quest. 4. Was I not a principal Means of preventing the Trial between Mr. Sloper and him, and the Letters which passed between him and his Wife, from being reprinted here soon after his Arrival: And did I not commission a Friend to offer the Expence of the Impression, out of my own Pocket, rather than a Stranger should be hurt?

Answ. You say, but we have only your bare Word for it (which is now in no great Estimation) you prevented the Trial between Sloper and me, being printed; I don't know you did, nor do I believe you did; and I am sure, I don't care whether it's printed or no: Time, Truth, and undeniable Facts, have open'd the Eyes of Mankind, so much, in my Behalf, on account of that unhappy Affair, that I have no farther Anxiety about it, nor dread any Imputation on my Honour, or Honesty thereby.—As to the Letters, between me, and my Wife, whenever they are read, all sensible impartial Readers will readily allow me to be, tho'a weak, an unfortunate Man; a hurt Lover, an injur'd Husband, and a Friend betray'd.—But, how dare you, thou unspeakable Wretch, mention my Wife,—or what wouldst thou intimate? I defy my direst Enemy, who dares speak Truth, to say, that ought ever happened between us, but what, too fatally, has prov'd me to be ‘One, who lov'd not wisely, but too well!’

As to Mrs. CIBBER, I shall only at present say of her, the Amendment of her Conduct, joined to her Merits as an Actress, having gained her the Good will of many, and restor'd her to the charitable Thoughts of a kind World, I will scorn (tho' wounded in the deepest Manner Human Nature can feel) ever to use any low Invectives against a Woman, or to obstruct her future Quiet, or her Happiness, unless (and I hope there will be no Occasion) some future Cause should call upon my Honour, as a Husband, to put that Power in force, which my Humanity would be shock'd to be driven to the Necessity of executing.—But say, thou unnatural Thing, of Nothing, unknowing (as your nearest Friends aver) either of the Joys, or Pains of Love, thou hateful Stranger to the Ties of Kindred, or real Joy of Social Friendship, what, but the most rancrous Heart of the most base, infamous Villain, and notorious Poltroon, could have drawn this disgraceful Paragraph, from the Gall of thy invidous Pen? Those Epithets I many Times have us'd in most publick Places, in publick Print, or viva voce, and ever shall, join'd to the Name of Sloper: Nor will the Name of THOMAS SHERIDAN, henceforward, be ever mention'd by me, but the same Epithets will be heard or understood. That a Gentleman of Honour, in this City, did prevent the Re-publishing of the above-mention'd Letters, I have reason to believe, and must think it design'd as an Act of good Nature in him, as not willing either should be hurt:—But your stopping 'em I know nothing of, any more than I do of the Obligations, you would intimate, I have to you, unless you mean it an Obligation—that I have accidentally done you the favour to dine with you, when I might have pass'd my Time more agreeably in better Company.

Quest. 5. Did I not promise him, to study any new Character for his second Benefit? (A Favour which I had refused to others much more worthy of it.)

Ans. You did promise to study a Part for my Benefit, tho' I did not want you to do it; but you since said you'd play no more; and if you have refused that mountainous Favour, as your own vain Imagination paints it, to worthier Persons, I think, as every one will, you were very much to blame.

Quest. 6. Did I not, when I found Mr. Philips trifling with him, and refusing to perform the Contract, before his Face declare, that I never would in any Shape be concern'd with Mr. Philips hereafter, if he did not pay him, nay more, offer'd to play with Mr. CIBBER in the other House; to try by that Means to make up his Loss?

Quest. 7. Did not Mr. CIBBER say on that Occasion, that I behav'd with such Honour, and laid him under such Obligations, that he only wish'd for an Opportunity to return them?

Ans. 6 and 7. When Philips trifled, and behaved ill enough (as he knows not how to behave well) you did talk of being concern'd no more with Philips, and of playing with me in another House (which you thought it would be your Interest to do) I made you several Compliments on that Account, which, on Reflection, were more than you deserv'd, for a Proposition you had no Right to make, since you were then actually engaged with Philips, in Articles for some Time, so could not keep your Word. And whenever you play, the Players too well know how much your own Interest will be consider'd, before the Welfare of any one Person, or the Interest of the whole Body.

May one not reasonably suggest, you rather chose to play with me, that my good Nature, or good Manners (call it Indolence, if you will) might decline any Part you wish'd? And if the all-sufficient Tommy held my Playing in Tragedy so cheap, whence all these unnecessary Cautions of his, against my playing in that Light? Or his Endeavours, before I appeared in the Kingdom, to imprint in the Minds of some People (these Things can be proved Tommy) my Incapacity for such Performance? Or whence his present Anger avow'd against any Attempts of Mine of that Sort? Indeed, Child, your Heat betrays you here; it out-runs your Cunning. And so, your Name brought full Houses, when we play'd to empty Benches: The worst Houses I have seen here, were when you play'd; indeed, Youth, you should remember the Old Saying, Fibbers should have good Memories: Not one full House have I seen you Play to, since I came.—The first Time I ever saw you on the Stage, was in the Play of Julius Caesar, when the Curiosity of seeing your Brother, in Cassius, was what the Managers depended on for bringing the Audience: I was told there was then about 50l.—You play'd Lord Townly, for a Widows Benefit, to about 20l. Hamlet I believe to less, tho' for a Benefit too: Richard to less than 30l. and caus'd about 15l's. worth of Tickets to be given away to Puff for you, &c. The best Receipt you had was to Cato, which I have mention'd; and the first Night of your appearing in the Character of Horatio in the Fair Penitent, was worse than any of these; and, I believe, the very worst Audience they have known a long while.—Why, you're bewitch'd sure;‘Sed, Quos Jupiter Vult perdere, prius dementat.’

That you have disoblig'd an Audience, by not performing, more than once, that you have created Disturbances more than once, the whole Town knows: But, that you were always under the Necessity of so doing, nothing but the Nonsense of thy own peerless Pericranium, could ever persuade you to assert:—Can any one in their Senses, suppose I could undertake so wild a Project, as to attempt driving you out of a Kingdom, you were born in, and in which you had, as you often boasted, such a strong natural Interest? Or why, were I to stay, or ever to return, must my Establishment be grounded on your Removal? Upon my Word, Incomparable Sir, I cannot pay you so great a Compliment as to think that necessary: Nor do I think, thou egregious Mock Monarch, like thee, of monopolizing Kingdoms, or, as you in your Letter to Mr. G—k, ridiculously enough phras'd it, of dividing 'em; or that, we are to be (as you farther said to him) The Twin Stars of Heaven, &c. and such like Trash, which, his better Sense, as I am credibly inform'd, smil'd at. But I suppose the Town here are to dread your threatning to depart, and join in a Petition for your Stay; should you, cruel Man, leave this weeping Nation, to deplore your Absence for a while; I'll venture to affirm, your Return will be pretty quick. Unless you can persuade every body in England to hold every Performer, as low in their Opinion, as you do, when comparing 'em to your inimitable self.—All Men have some Degree of Vanity, without it there would be but little Emulation: But yours is so barefac'd, so stupidly apparent, a Schoolboy would act with more Discretion:—However cordially partial you may be, to your dainty, delicate self, I shall not forfeit my Understanding so much, ever to hint, you have the least Right to stand in any Degree of Comparison, with Mr. Quin, or Mr. Garrick, (whatever your critical Noddle may be pleased to alledge) or with many more there, or some here, who, in their different Walks, will always be your Superiors.—

As an Actor (tho' I have more to say to you as a Man) I shall yet, leave you for a while, This Answer already swelling to a large Size; But shall take an Opportunity, of shewing you, impartially, what you are, and what you are not: When, probably, the judging World will take their farewel of thee, with this Parody.

Thou art but a stalking Shadow, a Poor, poor Player!

Who hast strutted, and fretted, thy hour upon the Stage,

And now,—Thou'rt heard no more! 'Twas a Tale,

Told by an Ideot, full of Sound and Fury,

Signifying—Nothing.

'Twere endless to trace you thro' your repeated Falshoods, or to take Notice of all your Sheridaninian rhetorick: Numbers can confront you, as to the First; and as to the Latter, 'tis fit only to be laugh'd at.—But, out of thy own Mouth will I condemn thee, wicked Scribler! You say yourself, Page 9th, "The Audience was greatly offended at the Disappointment they met with, in your not being able to perform, and very justly too, since it was not in your Power to give them the Reasons which prevented it."—No, nor ever was, Nor ever will be.—Now, if Tommy will but correct it boldly, and instead of, not being able to perform, read thus, Not willing to perform; why then, the Fact will be truly stated, I believe.

You say, being equally skill'd in theatrical Affairs, as you are in Laws of Hospitality, and good Breeding,—"The giving out three Plays together is a most unusual Thing."—No, Tommy, it has been frequently done in England, where the Theatres are somewhat better conducted than here, (or they would be in a woeful Plight) and the Company, on such Occasions, have been greatly serv'd thereby. Oh! But some of the Characters were yours. Pray, who are you? What do you mean, that they fitted you in private Life? I'll readily allow you all the Virtues you can find cram'd into Richard or Macheth,—their Valour and their Policy excepted; (little cunning that betrays it self is no Policy) but, the Pangs, and Pleasures, of Othello, sure, you don't pretend to have known.—Oh! But you mean, they were your Parts, and pray, why the Property of you particularly, any more than of many others, who have acted 'em before you, and 'tis possible don't play 'em worse.—But, you would not play, and nobody else must—Pert enough that!

You say, what Right had I to answer your first Address to the Town?—Why, Child, I never did answer it. My Epistle was ready for the Press, before I ever saw your Paper, as a Gentleman can testify, who brought it to me, just as I was going to send away my Letter: 'Twas your idle Reports, which Numbers have known you guilty of, and the two ill-natur'd Advertisements (which no one believes you innocent of) calculated to create a Disturbance, and the silly threatning Papers posted up about the Town: All these made me think it necessary to break Silence.

Your Nonsense, in saying, I keep every Theatre in hot Water, is very pretty, to be sure, if you did but know what you meant; but, as to my troublesome Temper, there is not, I believe, a Player that will not contradict you.—I am confident, there's none of the Profession, here, that will find Fault with my want of Manners, good Nature, or good Humour: But, is there any of 'em, that have not laugh'd at your ridiculous Tyranny, or been astonish'd at your ill Usage, even of the Women?—But, they should excuse you there, Tommy: How can you tell properly to treat a Sex, every Body believes you're scarce acquainted with?—and so, "You cannot find out any tolerable Colour I had, to be so cavalier a Volunteer, in the Cause."—Really, too many publick and private Libels, press'd me to the Service.—But, 'tis no Matter whether you can find the Cause or no, if the Publick finds it; and if they are pleas'd.—"Must I be fright'ned 'cause a Spalpeen Stares? As to your pretty Compliment to your Friends, by calling their Zeal indiscreet, that Blunder needs no Remark,—and to say, I knowingly, and willingly, brought the Anger of any Set of People upon me, is an Assertion so absurd, nothing can equal the Folly of it, but the Falshood;—'Tis a pretty plump Contradiction to the forc'd Compliment you make, when you are pleas'd to allow me a Man of common Sense: But your Effronterie in denying all Knowledge of the Advertisements, or having even the least Knowledge of the Gentlemen, whom you pretend were angry on your Account,—tho' living Witnesses have prov'd, and will farther, your being deeply concern'd in publishing the first; and that you were daily and hourly in Company with the latter, as you confess in your own Libel, is matchless indeed.—Such glaring Contradictions prove, you thought your Readers must be as silly as your self, and would over-look them.

'Tis notorious, the College resenting the Freedom of the Printers, in publishing Papers as coming from them, which they disclaim, have on Enquiry found, SHERIDAN brought 'em, SHERIDAN set 'em on. For this Truth, let any one appeal to Mr Faulkner, Mr. Exshaw, Mrs. Reilly, and their Servants, &c. You talk of a Message you sent me by Mr. Wright, of your having endeavour'd to appease the Anger of your Friends, &c. You took care to send the Message late enough: For I received none, till within half an Hour, or thereabouts, of my Letter being cry'd about the •treets.—But I no more believe your Sincerity in this, than I do in every thing else.—The Impatience of those itinerant Gentry, the Flying Stationers, being great, I must hasten to a Conclusion; they farther inform me, if I swell this to an enormous Size, 'twill not be so portable as they could wish: Nor can they afford it for so small a Price as a Penny. That I may therefore, neither inconvenience their Traffick, or incur their Mightinesses Displeasure, I shall give you but a few Words more, and then leave thee.

To those Thorns, which in thy Bosom lodge,

To goad and sting thee.

And so, the whole Intention of thy long elaborate Piece, is to introduce a whining, begging Paragraph, in behalf of your Benefit; thou Prince of Canters, and thou King of Maunders! Is it come to this? Does this agree with Tommy's dauntless Declarations? he never did, nor ever would ask any one to come to see him: 'Twas to oblige themselves, not him, they came, &c. &c. "Is that too modest and gentle: Mr. Bays? No, but 'tis very great, and as far-fetch'd a Fancy as ever was known.

How are the Mighty fallen!

But this prodigious Work, the learned Tommy did not take up much above a whole Day (tho', by his late Publishing it, 'tis possible he may sib there too) to draw up.—Miraculous! Why, what an amazing Author you may prove in Time! But, prithee, how could'st thou be so long about it? I have a Child, shall write twice as much Nonsense, in half the Time, and be more asham'd of it when done.—And was its state of Mind uneasy? Good Lack! You question, whether the innocent Man feels less than the Man of Guilt, while he is labouring under a Load of Calumny—Really I can't readily answer you. Calumny you have endeavour'd to load me with, but, as I know no Guilt, I cannot say I have felt much Anxiety of Mind: Nay, I am so innocent of any base Intentions, that I solemnly declare I sleep very sound, and am very easy: Try if you can do so too. And Rest, perturbed Spirit. Farewel, Remember me!

T. C.

Notes

*
He will out-lie a Chamber-maid, or a Woman of Quality's Porter.

CONG. Way o'the World.

↵

*
This Cartel was idly design'd to exclude all English Actors from the Theatres here.
↵

A Letter from Antient PISTOL, to Young PISTOL; who acted that Part on Monday the 1st of August, 1743, at the Theatre in S—k-A—y. Being an Epistle From the Dead to the Living.

Thou Dog in Forehead.

POPE's Hom.

SIRRAH,

IT is with no small Discomfort and Anxiety of Mind, I hear so exploded a Rascal as you, should by imitating my noble Character, endeavour to recommend your self to the World as a second Pistol; a Fellow! so little Heroick, either in Mind or Gesture, that even the Character of Scrub had been debas'd by you; had not there been other inferior Parts in Plays, such as Footmen, Bailiffs and Tapsters, thy Impudence in assuming mine had been more excusable, but every other Act of your Life, as well as this, demonstrates, you were born to bring that Vice to Perfection, which before did but faintly appear in the awkward Gestures of half impudent, and half bashful Men. Nay, to such a Pitch of Transcendency have you carried Impudence, that even thine own Father, Old Colley, (whom none will charge of being over modest) begins to be asham'd of you: But, Sirrah, neither thy commencing Pimp, Sharper, Poet, (or what is baser still, a self will'd Cuckold) carries such Aggravations of Impudence with them, as your affecting to play my other Parts, you might have play'd without having straining for, or deviating from the common Course of your Lise, but surely Heroism as little becomes you as Majesty would a Clown, or Military Weapons a Taylor, yet under all these Disadvantages of Body and Mind, must I forsooth be personated.

I whose lofty Stile employ'd on greatest Things,

Might well become the Mouths of mightiest Kings.

Thou prophane unmeritable Wretch! may the mighty Gods condemn me to the lowest Tortures, if I am not sick when I think of you, and yet, such is my cursed Destiny, I cannot put thee out off my Thoughts, so much thy Impudence provokes me,—Well, you cannot live always,—a Time will come when thy ugly Soul, freed from that Cage thy Body shall descend to these gloomy and dread-creating Shores; then shalt thou find, Wretch, (yea even then! When all thy worldly Debts shall be paid) thou shalt here find a Score, the payment of which shall anniliate your Soul even to Horror, thy worst Fears (at which you are pretty apt) will not let you conceive how I'll use you.

I'll spurn you under my big Boot, as an Elephant would a Bear's Cub, or the Jackcal of a Lyon, it shall avail thee little that thou art the Son of a Laureat, such Laureats as he I despise, you are as good a Poet yourself, and yet by G—! if you can find me any earthly Scribler besides him who writes as ill as you, I'll forgive you (however injur'd I may be) from the very Bottom of my Heart. But this Ingagement you will never be able to perform, and so the Enmity still holds.—I hear you are now after selling your Native Country, arrived in Ireland, and thinking thy self far enough removed from the Scene of your former Roguery, settest up for a new Man of Honour, well, of all thy Impudences this is without Dispute the greatest. To say, there were one or two greater Rascals in the World than yourself, were a Brag might easily be dispens'd with, but to defy any Man, to find a Flaw in your Honour, who never was known to have any, is like Playing (as you Actors Phrase it,) the Double, for who the Devil, that was but half Sober, would look for a House in a Pepper-Corn; but perhaps thou takest Honour and Baseness to be like the two halves of one Circle, and he who comes to the Extremity of one, must of Consequence be at the Beginning of the other; if it be so, Grammercy! Right Honourable!—I wish you Joy of your new Title, which I promise you (fresh as it is) will last no longer than you have an Opportunity of contracting a new Debt, or the persuading some few credulous Creatures, you are capable of being a sincere Friend, or an innocent Companion. No! no! Sirrah, would you ever hope to come at the Character of an honest Man, it must be by inverting the present Notions concerning Virtue and Vice; could you by any cunning Sophistry, pesuade Mankind that Falshood was Truth, Dissimulation, Sincerity, and Malice, good Nature, and so of other Vices, you might stand fair sor the first Place in the List of honourable Gentlemen, but while the present set of Maxims prevail, you must content yourself to be held, and that deservedly, as the basest of Mankind.

Thus I think, I have given you some Reasons why, I should resent your appearing in my Character, seeing the Nobleness of it cannot but suffer, thro' the vile Action and worse Fame of the Performer. Desist therefore from ever assuming that Part, nor Cowardly take the Advantage of my Absence to Insult me, least too far provok'd, I may be tempted to trespass upon the Edict of Pluto, and quitting these Shores, resist once more the Mansions of my former earthly Habitation, in order to the obtaining due Satisfaction.

NOR think the Space that is our Shores between,

Shall thy vile Carcase from my Fury screen,

Wing'd with fierce Wrath, and Wrath's a Mountain thing,

From this to thee, as Lightening, quick I'd spring;

And when thou dost supine at Midnight snore,

Lock'd in the Embraces of some favourite Whore,

Or if too poor to keep a Drab in pay,

Thou liest alone, and dreamest of some Play;

I'll come, and cloath'd with Terrors of the Night,

Thy trembling Soul, from its base Lodgings Fright.

Me, as a Gorgon, trembling, thou shalt own,

And quick convert your brazen Face to Stone;

Or if my noble Soul, disdains a Slave,

So base as you, should fall by one so Brave,

Some Imp directed by my high Commands,

Seizing the brimful Jordan where it stands,

Shall down thy gaping Mouth, its Freightage pour,

And quench your Soul in an unsavoury Show'r,

So shall Men say, when you've resign'd your Breath,

Who stinking liv'd, has dy'd a stinking Death.

PISTOL.

A Letter from a Young LADY to Mr. CIBBER.

Mr. CIBBER,

I BELIEVE you will think this comes very late by Way of Answer to a Paper you publish'd, dated 11th of July, entitled, A Proper Reply to a late scurrillous Libel, &c. I have been in the Country for this good while past, and heard nothing of your Quarrel with Mr. SHERIDAN till the Day before Yesterday, when the above-named Paper was put into my Hands, by a Gentleman, who, at the same Time, related the Occasion of your Dispute to me. I must confess, when I first cast my Eyes on your Reply, I imagined I should have been of your Party; but when I had read a few Pages of it. I own I changed my Mind, and began to suspect that the Gentleman had been a little partial in his Account.

You begin with letting the Publick know, "that to address them in foul Language is an Affront to their Ears, and a Breach of good Manners."—A very hopeful Beginning.—And would not one imagine, that a Gentleman who thought thus would write nothing contradictory to such an Opinion, but would, at least, keep within the Bounds of common Decency in his Expressions? Yes, certainly, and Mr. CIBBER is so conscious of the Heinousness of using ill Language, that he most religiously avoids it, as I shall take Notice of more at large presently: In the mean while I shall proceed in Order to your several Paragraphs.

"Mr. Arne (say you) told me at the Rainbow Coffee-house, that he had been just talking with Mr. Faulkuer at the Globe Coffee-house, who, among other Things, declared his Opinion, that it was indiscreet in Mr. Sheridan, to cause or suffer such Things to be publish'd, &c. &c."—A Printer's Opinion!—Why, Man, if it was a Stadtholder's, you could not deliver it with more Solemnity; poor Faulkner is an honest Fellow, but for God's Sake don't talk of his Opinion!

Well, in the next Place, you inform us "Mr. SHERIDAN spar'd no Money in Chair-hire, to alarm all Parts of the Town."—Why, this is not like London, Chair-hire is very cheap here, and you may go almost from one End to the other of our poor little City in an Hour's Time, and it won't cost you Nineteen Pence; if you don't believe me, prithee, for once, make the Experiment.

Now, to come to your Promise of good Manners again.—You say, "you will contradict Mr. SHERIDAN by Facts, not by dirty Language."—Very good still; I am in Hopes you will keep your Word; but we shall see that presently: In a few Lines after this you call him the Great Sheridan, and by and by Master Tommy; there is no Scurrillity in this, I grant you, but indeed, my Friend, there is a little Malice, and a little Childishness in it.—But, to come to a more material Place.—You ask Mr. SHERIDAN, "Why he did'nt recite those thousand unforeseen Accidents that disorder'd his dear mind, &c."—Why, indeed Mr. SHERIDAN should, in Justice to himself, have been a little more explicit, with Respect to them Accidents, whatever they were; but is it not possible (I speak to you as a Man of common Sense now, and leave the Dispute quite out of the Question) is it not very possible that a Man may, by a hundred little concurring Incidents (so trivial in themselves that they would scarce bear a Repetition, yet at the same time may make a great Impression on a delicate Mind) be really so disordered that it would be actually impossible for him to exert himself properly at some particular Junctures? Certainly nothing is more true, Instances of this Nature are seen frequently; and I knew a Lady who put off her Marriage Day, and dismissed the impatient Bridegroom with all his Train, because she was disappointed of her Wedding Slippers.—I think this is a parallel Case with the one in Question.

But to go on.—You say, "you treated Mr. SHERIDAN with more good Breeding than he deserved, or probably ever understood or practised." An admirable Instance of your good Breeding this, and a great Compliment to the College where Mr. SHERIDAN received his Education. Do you remember you are talking to a Gentleman, one who was born such, and educated such, and, it is to be presumed, conversed with none other, till the Narrowness of his Fortune reduced him to the sad Necessity of being Company for the Gentry of the Stage. This Kingdom, I own, is much honour'd by your Presence, and is likely, by your Means, to improve as much in good Breeding as it will in the Regulation of the Theatres. The Man of Manners is a Character I find you affect, and keep up notably; but really, till you undeceiv'd me, I always thought a Player's Politeness was much of a Size with a Printer's Opinion.

You tell us, "You offer'd to play Syphax and read Cato." I will not call this an impudent and extravagant Proposal, but I cannot help saying, there seems to be a good Deal of Art and Design in it: What could you propose by such an Offer? but to make Mr. SHERIDAN's Behaviour in refusing to act, appear in the worst Light, when opposed to your kind Candescension in taking upon you to act two Parts (which was the Case in Effect) when he totally refused to appear in one. You knew the Audience must have an ill Impression made on them for the present from such a Refusal: You take them in the Mood, and, out of your great Affection to them, like an obliging Creature, chuse the Fatigue of playing two Characters (a Thing perhaps not so new to you) where that little, obstinate, perverse Chit, SHERIDAN, wou'dn't, as I said before, play one.—Kind, indeed, but, between you and I, I suspect you in this plausible Intention, and am apt to believe, there was more Illnature than Complaisance in it.

But come, you advance a-pace with your Court Breeding. "The Good Nature, you say, was shew'd you on this Occasion, you wonder didn't provoke Mr. SHERIDAN to publish his Displeasure against the People, for the terrible Mortification, his little Pride, mean Vanity, poor Envy, and rancarous Heart, felt on this dismal Account."—Now from Envy, Hatred, Malice, and all Uncharitableness, good Lord deliver us. Pray, how do you know that Mr. SHERIDAN was so much mortify'd? Softly, or you will betray yourself, and easily discover that the Pleasure you propos'd to yourself in mortifying your Antagonist, was a Motive much more prevailing with your social, humane Heart, to act as you did, than that of obliging your Audience;—is not this true?—Well, here you quote Mr. SHERIDAN's Expressions, "Tommy (as you call him) says your Fame was design'd on his Ruin, and to prove it, he will give an Account of his Behaviour to you since your Arrival in this Kingdom."—Very pretty Reasoning this, say you, how was his Behaviour to prove my Design? This it seems was a high Joke to you, but pray have a little Patience, had Mr. SHERIDAN only related his own Conduct towards you, without mentioning any Part of your Behaviour with respect to him, I own that wou'd be a Method of proving a little new, it might indeed make the Ingratitude, or Insincerity of a Man, appear in blacker Colours, but that it could not prove his Design, must be allowed; but if I don't mistake Mr. Sheridan, he gives us some Account of your Conduct as well as his own, but there was no need of that, the Town have been Witnesses to it, and I think it is very obvious from what you have said, done, and wrote, that your Intentions were none of the most charitable; your Behaviour in the Affair of Cato, prov'd your Designs, and Mr. Sheridan's Behaviour towards you, prov'd how little he deserv'd such Treatment.—Where's the Absurdity of this?—I suppose it was thus, that every body (but yourself) understood Mr. Sheridan, tho' perhaps he did not consider it so distinctly—.

I shall pass over that Part of your Reply which is by way of Dialogue between you and Mr. Sheridan, because there are some private Reflections in it, of a Nature too tender to be trifled with; but I long to come to the Place where you shew yourself the very Pink of Courtesie, I mean where you salute Mr. Sheridan by the Name of the most base, infamous Villain and notorious Poltroon.—Courteous and polite, I confess.—You told us, "Fibbers should have good Memories."—So should Railers too. You seem to forget, that all bad Expressions retort upon the Slanderer. If you believe this you have them for your Pains; but you should have considered this before you gave your Pen such a Liberty.

But I had like to have forgot your lofty Manner of addressing him before this,—

But say, thou unnatural Thing of Nothing,

Unknowing (as your nearest Friends aver)

Either of the Joys or Pains of Love,

Thou hateful Stranger to the Ties of Kindred,

Or real Joy of social Friendship.

Very sublime! I had some Thoughts of throwing it into Metre, but I was afraid it would lose its Dignity, and therefore chose to let it remain in Blank Verse. Pray who gave you this odd Character of Mr. Sheridan? I am his Country-Woman, have always liv'd in the same City with him, and have been acquainted with his Name for some Years, and yet I never heard that he had such a little adamantine Heart, as to be insensible both to Love and Friendship; he has Kindred, who I have been inform'd are in some Measure oblig'd to his Tenderness for their Support—I think this is not an Argument, that he has so savage a Breast as you wou'd intimate, so that 'tis probable them near Friends you speak of, have misinform'd you.

You give us to understand that "you have not seen Mr. Sheridan play to one full House since you came." I can't tell, indeed, what particular Fatality may have attended him since you came, but I know his Name (whatever Jest you are pleased to make of it) seldom fail'd to bring a numerous and polite Audience. Nor is it, let me tell you, over and above civil in you, to point out any particular Night, when, as you say, there was the very worst Audience that has been known a long Time; how do you know how many Persons of Distinction and Merit might have been there? I presume you are not well enough acquainted here to assirm this upon your own Knowledge. Pray what do you call the worst Audience? Did you mean the thinnest? If you did, you should have said so, for the other Word, I think, affronts the whole Audience at once, be it good or bad: Mr. Sheridan himself didn't do worse than this.

You think proper to speak with great Contempt of his Stile, and (as a competent Judge) at once pronounce it, nonsensical, tautological, and inconnected; to be sure you can never be guilty of any such notorious Faults; but pray let me ash you a Question: I must first make use of your own Words to Mr. Sheridan, "I shall not (say you) forfeit my Understanding so much, as ever to hint you have the least right to stand in any Degree of Comparison with Mr. Quin or Mr. Garrick, or with many more THERE." Where pray, Mr. Cibber? One would imagine by your Way of putting it, that Quin and Garrick were the Names of two Cities. But I suppose you were dreaming of London when you made this Mistake, and indeed I believe you were sleepy when you wrote the whole. But you go on with your Comparison: "He is not on a Footing you tell us with Quin or Garrick, (but this is the best of it) or with some here, who in their different Walks will always be his Superiors." O lamentable! if by their different Walks, you mean their different Gaits, or Manner of treading the Stage, I don't know but some of them may have the Advantage of Mr. Sheridan, but as Players, I dare say not one of them would have the Vanity to offer such an Assertion.

I am almost tired of you, but I will go on. You tell us (very obligingly) "that the Theatres in England are somewhat better conducted than those here, or they would be in a woeful Plight." Is this a Reflection on Mr. Sheridan in particular, or on the whole Body of the Managers? Which do you think? really I don't know that it affronts Mr. Sheridan at all, but you fancy you will do it compleatly by and by, where you tell us of his ill Usage to the Women, "a Sex he can't tell properly how to treat, being scarce acquainted with." If this were true, I can't see how he is the worse for it, and really, the less he is acquainted with that Part of the Sex which his present Method of Life must unavoidably throw in his Way, I must say he will be the better for it; but let me inform you, I know some Ladies of Sense and Reputation that are acquainted with him, and never found him wanting either in that Complacency which is natural to a Man of a good Understanding, or that Respect which is due to a Woman of Honour; for my own Part, I never exchanged a Word with him in my Life, and therefore can't possibly speak out of any particular Prejudice; you will not believe this probably, but, with all due Submission to you, I am very easy about that.

I thank my Stars I am come to your lost Page, but there is an Expression here that stops me short, "Must I be frightened because a Spalpeen stares?" What do you take a Spalpeen to be, Mr. Cibber? a Bear, may be, or a Bug-a-bow; I believe you are not rightly apprized of the Sense of the Word, and yet it may be properly enough applied to a Player; they are People who labour in one Season, and are Beggars in the other; that is all.

But it's Time to take my Leave of you, which I shall do anon, tho' the Flying Stationers don't press me to a Conclusion as they did you; but indeed, I am afraid you had to do with great Knaves, for they would make you believe, that if you encreased the Bulk of your Paper, they could not afford it for a Penny, but let me tell you as a Friend, that, in so cheap a Country as Ireland, they cou'd afford ten times as much of the same Wit for half the Price.

A Word or two more and then adieu: I find you take the Liberty of playing upon sacred Verse as well as the Tag Ends of Comedies, I should think this almost unpardonable, but having a Precedent of so great a Genius, I hope I may, without offending, venture to insert the Verse which you left incompleat; your Exclamation is,‘How are the Mighty fallen?’ Pray give me Leave to add,‘And the Weapons of War perish'd.’ For, believe me, all the Papers you have pen'd on the present Occasion have been put to their proper Use.—

I am, &c.

An Answer to the young Lady; or, a Letter from Mrs. SLAMMEKIN to Miss TABITHA TAMMY, &c.

Miss TABBY,

I DO indeed think your Answer comes very late; and if it had not come at all, Miss, I don't see any great Loss the World would have had of it, Miss; but since you have scribled to amuse yourself, why should not I do so too, my dear? And as I have been a great Frequenter of the Theatres, both at London and here, I think I have as good a Right to prattle, and judge of Playhouse Disputes as Mrs. Anybody; for really, Miss, I always pay for my Place, and was ever above excepting an Order from any of the Fellows, whether I sat in the Green Box, the Balcony, or the Lattices, I'll assure you, Miss.

So you have been in the Country for this good while past; why really, Miss Tammy, I heard you retir'd to Country Solitude the Day after your Cousin Tommy's Benefit: You were lately seen at Laughlinslown in your Jockey Cap, and a Hunting Pole in your Hand (an unbecoming Weapon for a young Miss, by the way) and you know how the Ladies there laugh'd at the uncouth Figure you made. Dear Creature, don't have any more such Flights I beg of you.—But pray, Miss Tabitha, why are you so free with poor Mr. Faulkner? What has he done to deserve any Fleer from you.—Oh! I forgot, he ungraciously rejected one of Tommy's polite Advertisements: a heinous and unpardonable Crime, I grant you.—But, dear Angel! Why may not a Printer's Opinion, if he's an honest sensible Man, be of as much Weight as a Stadtholder's?—Lud! that's a filthy hard Word, how could you think of it!—As Mr. Faulkner's Opinion was not wrong, sure it had been better for Tommy to have paid more Regard to it; but if Tommy is such a Coxcomb to regard no body's Opinion but his own, why—Tommy must take the Consequence.

Pray, Miss Tabby, advise Tommy never more to commit such paw Tricks; never more to tell horrid Fibs, and write a whole Paragraph to prove himself a sad Fellow, and then make you sully your pretty Fingers with Ink, to excuse them. But does not Cibber fairly charge TOMMY that HE knew and approved of the two Letters in Faulkner's Journal? To prove this, he mentions Mr. Faulkner's telling him his Opinion, That it would be better not to have them printed: I grant it may be nothing to the Publick, what was Faulkner's Opinion; but it proves, that Mr. Faulkner knew Sheridan to be so much interested in the Advertisements, that he thought his Resolution alone necessary, as to the putting them in or leaving them out; and Sheridan's Answer to Mr. Faulkner accordingly, was, "I AM DETERMINED:" Yet asterwards, frontless Sheridan, in his silly Address, solemnly declares, "It was all without his Knowledge."—matchless Impudence!—Tommy cannot answer this, nor has attempted it.

Cibber surther charges Sheridan, that he himself carried the other Advertisement to Faulkner's, where it was refused; that he himself altered the Word Butchers to Ruffians, and afterwards himself carried it to Reilly's; and in which, as you may see, he himself declares, That He himself is innocent of the former Advertisements or Letters, and knew nothing at all of the Matter. This is a Truth Mr. Faulkner, Mrs. Reilly, and other living Witnesses can prove.

Thus then stands the Fact,—Mr. Sheridan disappointed, either at not having a particular Robe, or at the thinness of the Audience, or, perhaps, desirous to indulge his Vanity in making an Audience be dismissed, though Mr. Cibber and Mrs. Giffard were in the Play, (who by that Means were to be thought os no Consequence) or from Tommy's uneasy delicate Mind, He did not chuse there should be any Play, then says, it was ungrateful and insincere in any Man to attempt any Character he had play'd: Thus he forms wild Ideas in his Noddle, of his being injured; sets a Man up as an imaginary Enemy; cruelly persecutes him; and endeavours, by Means the most unjustifiable to Society (no less than the endangering of Lives) to hinder any one from doing what Tommy, through Spleen, Pique, Pride and Impertinence, would not do himself.

By several Passages in your Letter, Miss, I shrewdly suspect Tommy has gone farther in the Character of Congreve's Petulant, which Cibber mentions in his first Letter;—I question whether Tommy, like Petulant, besides having wrote to himself, has not put on a Hood, Mask and Scarf, and called for himself; positively, it looks mighty like it. I protest I'll not forgive it, if like Slender in the Play, I am to be deceived, and instead of sweet Mrs. Anne Page, am to be put upon by a great lubberly Boy.—I hear, when Cibber read your Letter, he burst into a loud Laugh, and cried, Stap my Vitals, Tam again! then added, with the compos'd Serenity of Lord Foppington, Tam is the impudentest Fellow that Nature ever spawn'd into the World, strike me speechless!—Did Cibber guess right, or how, dear Creature?

But pray, Miss Tabby, why did you give yourself the needless Trouble of telling Cibber the Price of Chairhire here? Sure you can't but suppose he has been idly indolent enough to have rode in one several times here, as he frequently used in London, when your Cousin Tommy found it much more convenient to walk on foot; when Tommy was not plagued with the Incumbrance of a Chair, a Horse, a Footman, or any other impertinent Equipage, nor knew the Fatigue of being levee'd by Wine-merchants, Tradesmen, &c. which his late Luck made him unexpectedly acquainted with.

That Cibber calls Tommy the great Sheridan, and afterwards Master Tommy, is not at all inconsistent; since all the World must suppose, the first can be but Irony. Had Cibber said, Sheridan was brave, just, witty, generous, handsome, genteel, polite, a pretty Fellow, a compleat Gentleman, or an excellent Actor, would any one have supposed Cibber in earnest?—To be sure, my Dear, you know they could not.—I again question whether Tommy, not caring to shew his Face like a Man, has not hid himself under a Petticoat.—

You own, Miss Tabby, Tommy should, in Justice to himself, have been a little more explicit, with regard to them Accidents,—A little more explicit!—why, he has said nothing at all, but that he had not his fine Play-things: As childish a Reason as we, when we wore Bibs and Aprons, ever gave for not eating our Bread and Butter, when, perhaps, it wanted Glass Windows upon it, or because our Dolls were not dressed to our Minds. But I wish, Miss Tabby, you had let us into a few, or any one, of those little concurring trifling Incidents, that made so great an Impression on the delicate Mind of the dainty Deary, as RENDR'D HIM INCAPABLE AT A PARTICULAR JUNCTURE. Oh! the critical Minute! how has Tommy lost it! Oh Ged! I wish he may ever get over it! Well, I vow, Miss Tabby, you brought all the Blood of my Body into my Face; you wicked Creature! You gauky Romp! You wild Toad! How can you give one such comical naughty Ideas?

Well, that Parallel of the Lady dismissing her impatient Bridegroom, for want of her Slippers, is apt enough, and was very near as ridiculous as disappointing an Audience for want of a particular Robe: 'Twas a dangerous Trial of the Bridegroom's Love; Did he ever return to the Lady?—And, was the Lady as handsome as pretty Tommy?—Sure Tommy wou'dn't disappoint a Bride for want of white Gloves and a lac'd Nightcap.

But, Miss Tabby, why do you lug the College into your Epistle? (that's so like Tommy) What Reflection is it on them, that Tommy does not understand good Breeding? I have heard of a Parson's being hang'd, and a Soldier's being drumm'd out of a Regiment, yet neither brought any Reflection on the Gown or the Army. Though you and I are two prate-a-pace Baggages, does it follow, none of our Sex know when to hold their Tongues? But of what Consequence is it to the Publick, whether Cibber is a Gentleman by Birth, or whether any of Sheridan's Relations were ever transported, or made their Exits at the tripple Tree? But sure Tommy won't pretend to say he acted like a Gentleman, when he did all he could to set the whole Town in a Blaze, and laid Schemes for very fatal Consequences; while he has had Recourse to the meanest Falshoods, basest Equivocations and Misrepresentations, to shelter himself from the Tumults he wish'd to create.—The Town are greatly oblig'd to him; a pretty grateful Return this, for the charitable Assistance they have afforded him, when the Narrowness of his Fortune reduced him to the Necessity of gaining more from a Theatre (through the Indulgence, Compassion and Benevolence of the Gentlemen and Ladies here) than ever his boasted Merits can pretend to lay claim to.

Well, your playing upon the Players Politeness and Printer's Opinion, is prodigious pleasant and pretty, I protest; ah! how the P's come in there!—P upon P, or Pay upon Pay, as Bays says, as good as ever was wrote.

What were Cibber's real Motives for reading Cato, and playing Syphax, I won't pretend to determine, any more than you, Miss Tabby, or your Cousin Tommy, ought;—that it was fatiguing, is certain,—that it requir'd some Art, as an Actor, I suppose,—that it prevented the Audience from being disappointed thro' Tommy's Vanity and Caprice, is undeniable,—who one may reasonably suggest wish'd, as there was not a great Audience, to dismiss them, that it might be said, there could be no Play without Tommy. Why should we suppose any ill-natur'd Design in Mr. Cibber's Offer, of giving himself so much Trouble? 'Twas allow'd by the Audience, an Act of Complaisance; they thought he acquitted himself well: And their repeated Applauses shew'd their Opinion.—Now, as I told you, Miss, I have seen Plays often in London, I shall farther inform you, I have heard it said there, that Mr. Cibber has frequently manag'd a Theatre with such Success, that both the Town and the Players have been well pleas'd: Nay, I have heard it allow'd, no Actor better knows how to conduct a Theatre than he does:—I suppose, he did not come hither to learn that Art, if there is any in it.—Nor can any of the Directors, here, boast much of the regular Conduct of their Play-houses, I believe.—

I vow, Miss Tabby, I must chide you, for taking the L—d's Name in vain, and making so free with any Thing out of a good Book;—how could you say, from Envy, Hatred, Malice, &c. good L—d deliver us! indeed, Miss, my Mama would have been angry with me for talking so prophanely and ludicrously:—I'll assure you, Miss, I'm no Prude, but I know when to be decent to.—

You say, if you don't mistake Mr. Sheridan, he gives some Account of Mr. Cibber's Conduct, as well as his own.—Why, my Dear, you do mistake; he gives no account:—I allow with you, all Tommy could say were needless,—for the Town will always judge for themselves.—That Cibber has join'd the Words, base, infamous Villain, and notorious Poltroon, to Tommy Sheridan's Name, is undeniable; and, after Tommy had impudently, and impertinently, mention'd Family Distresses (quite foreign to the Purpose) what less could Tommy expect? or what Gentleman or Lady, will be offended with Mr. Cibber, for bestowing such Appellations on Tommy, after so just a Provocation? Why does not Tommy shake 'em off? 'Tis his own Fault if they stick upon him—But has he not dealt as freely with himself, in the third Paragraph of his own Letter? Does he not there under his own Hand, in a publick manner, prove himself an unfit Companion for any Gentleman whatever.

Bad Expressions certainly retort upon the Slanderer, but when the Person pointed at deserves those Expressions (which I don't hear any one deny but that Tommy did) they'll remain where they are plac'd; and are only bold Truths, not Slander.—As you grow critical, Miss Tabby, on Cibber's lofty and sublime manner of addressing Tommy; give me leave to suppose, Cibber might grow a little warm, on so nice a Point as the mention of a Woman; The Occasion appears just enough, and 'tis excusable, if his Stile swells a little: If you, or I, were in a Passion, 'tis possible we might elevate our Dialect, as well as raise our Voices.

You desire to know, who gave Cibber that odd Character of Sheridan; Cibber tells you, his nearest Relations and Friends.—You declare, Miss, you have been acquainted with Sheridan's Name (nothing more I hope) for some Years; so may every Shoeboy, my Dearest, that can read: For, it is to be met with, underneath many an Alehouse Sign in this City, and many Parts adjacent.—But why, dear Child, will you be so cruel, to mention any of his indigent Relations, for such they must be who could submit to be oblig'd to him for Support; not that Poverty is any Crime;—but 'tis not quite pretty to hint at the Narrowness of their Circumstances:—And, should Tommy boast of any Relief he may have afforded 'em, would not Tommy by such Declaration, cancel the Obligation? And may we not conclude Tommy has more Ostentation than Generosity?—Sure Tommy does not pretend to talk of any Favours he ever conferr'd on his Brother.—Tho' Tommy condescended to share, with the Managers, the Profits of his Brothers Playing; it is not yet apparent, Tommy ever refunded any Part thereof to his Brother.—That Tommy has not play'd to a full House, since Mr. Cibber's Arrival in this Kingdom, is certain; nor had for some time before his Arrival:—The Joke was over.—Tho' the Gentry here, are as benevolent and generous, as any Nation; yet it was not to be suppos'd they could throw away their Charity, in one Quarter, for ever.

Well, I vow and protest, Miss, that was comically thought of you, to find out, calling a thin Audience a bad Audience, was an Affront;—but I believe, you'll not easily persuade the Undertakers of any Play-house, to think a thin Audience agood one:—Nor would any half dozen Persons of the greatest Distinction, or Merit, be angry at the Expression, if they were the only Spectators. I have seen the royal Family at an Opera in London, and so thin a House, the few that were there, all allow'd it to be a very bad Audience, and not one thought themselves affronted by the Declaration.

Why, as you say, Cibber does find Fault (and pretty justly I believe) with Sheridan's Stile, and calls it, properly enough, nonsensical and tautological; and adds, his Matter is inconnected, &c. Now were Cibber's Stile, and Matter worse, would that prove Tommy's good? No sure.—When you quote Mr. Cibber's Words, viz. "I shall not forfeit my Understanding so much, as ever to hint, you have the least right to stand in any Degree of Comparison with Mr. Quin, or Mr. Garrick, or with many more there."—You add,—where Mr. Cibber? Why, in England, Miss Tabby, England, my Dearest, mention'd a few Lines before.—Laud! Child, sure this must be a wilful Oversight of yours; if you don't own that,—I shall suspect you (tho' you stile yourself a young Lady) to be really an old Gentlewoman: If your Sight is dim call for your Spectacles.

Well, you're charmingly pleasant again, on 'the Words different Walks, (sure you must be mighty pretty Company) I'll swear you're a provoking Creature, you agreeable Devil you!—You own some of the Actors may have the Advantage of Tommy, in treading the Stage; and I am sure many others will allow, tho' the Actors do not vainly and foolishly, like Tommy, puff their own Praises, yet the judicious, I say, easily discern, there are Players who, in their different Walks or Casts of Playing, are so much superior to Tommy, they would be paid no great Compliment by being put in Competition with him.

When Cibber says, the Theatres in England are somewhat better conducted than the Play-houses here, I don't suppose he means a Compliment either to Sheridan, or the Managers. Might he not, by such Compliment, arraign his Judgment, should he either extol Tommy as an Actor, or the others as Managers?—most People are of Opinion he would.

That Cibber knew what the Word Spalpeen meant, is pretty certain, by his applying it to Sheridan; and your Explanation of it fully shews, Miss, that it fits Tommy very well: How near he was to being a Beggar, 'till he labour'd, last Season, in his Vocation, as a Player, is pretty notorious.

Well, as you say, I am tir'd of you, and my Tea waits. But oh! you dirty thing, you! what do you mean, by Cibber's Papers having been put to their proper Use? If you mean curling your Hair—Why, you know, Child, we do that with our Love-Letters.—Sure,—Lud bless me!—Why, Miss you don't mean any naughty Nastiness, do you?—oh fie! O Ged! I must leave you,—Why, you filthy Hoyden,—you'll scent the Room, Child;—well, I did not think such a thing could have come out of your Mouth: Good-by-to-you!—oh paw paw!—I wash my Hands of you.

Yours, SLAMMY.

VERSES address'd to Mr. SHERIDAN, on his late Affair in the Theatre.

I.

ENVY will Merit still pursue,

As Shade succeeds to Light;

And tho' a Shade obscures the view,

It proves the Substance right.

II.

If worth appears and gets its due,

(But Oh how rare that Gain!)

The Satyrs and the mimic Crew

Shall grin behind the Scene.

III.

Tho' you be prais'd by half the Globe,

And charm its Factions dumb;

Yet spite shall soil your newest Robe,

And Cato dread Tom Thumb.

IV.

Some Artifice shall find a way,

Some secret Whisper dwell;

But to defeat such Arts, you say

The Maxim is—Do Well.

V.

Now hear a Tale, a Moral too,

Allow it poor or pretty;

The Owls one Day (if Fame says true)

Compos'd a sage Committee:

VI.

'Twas there resolv'd in cool Debate,

Each offering his true Sense,

That Phaebus, Source of Light and Heat!

Was nothing but a Nuisance.

VII.

To whom the glorious Lamp of Day

In mildest Radiance spoke,

" Shall I withdraw my genial Ray

" Because your Vigil's broke?

VIII.

" Shall Nature's Frame and Nature's Laws

" By me be unattended,

" Because (forsooth!) a noble Cause!

" An Owl or two's offended?

IX.

" O Sons of Gloom! yet brighter Sense,

" More conscionably speak,

" Why shou'd my Beams be less intense

" Because your Eyes are weak?

X.

" The Fault is yours, (if Faults you see)

" The punishing be mine,

" And my compleat Revenge shall be,

" I still will Rise and Shine.

An EPILOGUE, spoke by Mr. CIBBER, in the Character of Nobody.

He enters in a Cloak.

WELL, Sirs, to keep my Word, tho' as I take it,

You're all but fairly bit, if I should break it;

For what's an Epilogue when Nobody's to speak it?

But least the Humour with the Cheat should lye,

Thus I transform myself to Nobody[*].

In this vile punning form some ancient Noddy,

At first presum'd to represent Nobody.

My Birth from long before the World I trace,

From whence the proudest Mortals give me Place:

No Interests can from such Allegiance move 'em;

For who's not pleas'd when Nobody's above 'em?

France's Monarch, whose Aims unbounded, he

Wou'd give just Terms of Peace, nay, keep his Word with me;

For all he toils for is the Good of Nobody.

The Ties of Friendship 'twixt us well is known,

To me he wishes the Imperial Crown;

For while he seems to let two Rivals share it,

He really means that Nobody shou'd wear it.

Thus, 'tis the Aim of great Men still you see,

In greatest Actions to have Regard to me;

For which they're equally belov'd by Nobody.

Now as I've Merit, so too, I've my Errors;

One is, I hold to all Mankind true Mirrors:

Tis I, plain dealing Nobody, can tell,

The secret Price for which Preferments sell;

Or, when wrong Steps in Government are made,

Besure the Faults on my strong Shoulders laid,

Which when to publick Grievances they mount,

Why then poor Nobody is call'd to an Account.

Thus still of great or lowest facts, you see

The universal Faults still charg'd on Nobody.

And yet how deep some Cheeks wou'd blush, were I

To tell what Pranks are play'd when Nobody is by.

Oh! the stolen Raptures you receive and give,

The Vows you swear, which only I believe:

Here many strugling Nymphs o'er power'd appear,

When the warm Lover whispers in their Ear;

By Heavens! My Angel! Nobody can hear.

But hold, Sir Negative, for at this Rate,

A Man for ever might of nothing prate;

So let the Fit of Praise or Censure seize you,

You still must own that Nobody could please you.

Notes

*
Throwing off his Cloak, he appears habited in a large pair of Breeches—as the Character of Nobody is often represented in Pictures, &c.
↵

A PROLOGUE Spoken by Mr. CIBBER, on the 11th of June, being the Anniversary of his Majesty's Accession to the Throne.

WHEN Great Augustus bore Imperial Sway,

Wanton in Ease the happy Nations lay;

Oft as the rolling Year, the Day restor'd.

The fav'rite Day which gave the World a Lord;

The grateful Muse her willing Tribute pay'd,

And joyous sung the Heroe she obey'd.

Bless'd be this Day, which shall for ever bear

The whitest Mark, and dignisy the Year;

From whose fair Beams united Glories spring;

And form at once, a HEROE and a KING.

Greatly intent, He scorns inglorious Rest,

Whilst Europe's Fate lies struggling in his Breast;

Her Peace, her Safety, all his Thoughts controul,

And touch the strongest Passions of his Soul;

While in full Stream his Royal Pity flows.

He points his Thunder only 'gainst his Country's Foes.

Britains, with Shame! their factious Schemes give o'er,

And now their idle Fears are heard no more;

Securely they their Monarch's Wisdom trust,

Who knows a King's best Praise is to be Just.

Hence shall he stand, our Bulwark in Alarms,

Our Ornament in Peace, our Shield in Arms;

Rebellion's Sons their impious League shall cease,

And party Storms be hush'd into a Peace.

Fair Property shall raise her cheerful Head,

And o'er our fruitful Plains her Influence shed;

Each tuneful Bard shall touch his sounding Lyre,

And sing the British Arms with Grecian Fire:

The Muse once more shall quit her fav'rite Skies.

And see in GEORGE's Praise a Second ILIAD rise.

A PROLOGUE, address'd to the Gentlemen and Ladies of this Kingdom, by Mr. CIBBER, at his Benefit.

WHEN I behold such radiant Circles there,

Enrich'd with all that's Good, or Wise, or Fair;

While Wit, and Beauty, amiably unite,

I'm aw'd, I'm charm'd, and dazzled with the Sight:

And own, no Kingdom, with Hibernia vies,

For Elegance of Taste, and brightest Eyes.

Ambitious of your Praise, I hither came,

Your Praise is Merit, your Applause is Fame;

Those little Talents my poor Skill displays,

Your Goodness suffers, and your Bounty pays:

For this, ye generous Minds, my Thanks receive,

Those Thanks are all you ask, or I can give.

O! did my Genius with my Will conspire,

Did That but equal half my fond Desire;

My Actions then might some Proportion bear,

To bring your Favours and my Merits near:

I own, m'Ambition is to charm your Taste,

Yet plead no Title to your Favours past,

But wish for future Worth to make them last;

Proud if my utmost Toil might justly claim,

The smallest Portion of impartial Fame:

If all the Care and Industry I show,

Shall merit half those Honours you bestow.

An EPILOGUE, Wrote by Jo. HAINS, a celebrated Comedian, of facetious Memory: And spoken by Mr. CIBBER, riding on an Ass.

YOU've seen (before now) since this Shape showing Age,

More Asses than mine, on a Beau-crowded Stage;

Wherefore by the Example of fam'd Pinky, my Brother,

〈◊〉 shew this Stage has Asses, as well as an other;)

〈◊〉 mounted, I'm come, to invite you oft hither,

〈◊〉 Beaumont and Fletcher, thus coupled together:

〈◊〉 Fancy, his Judgment, my Person, his Face,

•ith the mighty good Interest he has in this Place;

•or, indeed I've been told, pray let me not wrong ye,

My Ass has Relations, and great ones among ye:

In the Galleries, Side-Boxes, on the Stage, in the Pit,

What's your Critick, your Beau, your Keeper, your Wit?

Your Fighting Ass is a Bully,

Your Sneaking Ass is a Cit;

Your Keeping Ass is a Cully,

But your Top-prime Ass is your Wit:

They all fool Cit of his Wife,

He fools them all of their Pelf,

But your Wit's so damn'd an Ass,

He only fools himself.

Why am not I an Ass now, thus to ride my Brother,

And he that's pleas'd with it too, is not he another?

Since then, so many Asses here abound,

Where an eternal Link of Wit goes round,

There's no one sure, will think it a Disgrace—

To be allied to this accomplish'd Ass,

He's a great Courtier—you may read it in his Face.

Ladies I'm sure, you like his spruce Behaviour;

I ne'er knew ought but Asses in your Favour:

Fair ones, at what I say, take no Offence,

When his Degree a Lover does commence,

You coin an Ass, out of a Man of Sense.

The Beaux that softens most your flinty Hearts,

Are Asses—Taylors make them Men of Parts.

Now some have told me, this might give Offence,

That riding my Ass thus,—Is riding the Audience:

But what of that, the Brother rides the Brother,

The Son the Father, We all ride one another:

Then as a Jest, for this Time let it pass,

And he that likes it not—May kiss my Ass.

A PROLOGUE Spoken by 〈◊〉 CIBBER, August 18th, on the Ba•… Dettingen.

TOO long has Britain been by France amus'd,

Her Peace invaded, and her Faith abus'd;

While Europe's Freedom in the Ballance hung,

And faithless Lewis, like a Syren, sung;

To sooth our Monarch, whose Supplies alone

Repell'd his Force, and shook the Gallic Throne;

Tho' slow to Vengeance, pow'rful in the Fight,

The great Assertor of all Europe's Right.

Such Brunswick is, and such alone his Aim,

How great the Motive! and how just the Fame!

If to repel obtruding Force he draws,

Heav'n sanctifies the Justice of his Cause;

Secure, he thunders thro' the thick Array,

Unhurt amidst the Dangers of the Day.

While Cumberland with early Valour proves,

A Champion for that Liberty he loves;

From Rank to Rank, the active HERO flies,

The foremost, where the greatest Dangers rise.

Toils o'er the Field where Numbers most engage,

And heedless of his Wounds renews his Rage.

So British Courage warms a British Soul!

So Gallia trembles when our Thunders roll!

So all our Sons of Liberty afar

Spread a wide Waste, and push destructive War!

Foul breach of Faith, and violated Laws,

With weighty Woes vindictive Vengeance draws;

WILLIAM, LORRAIN, and KHEVENHULLER strike,

For Britain's Wrongs, and Hungary's alike!

The common Cause, united Force requires;

The common Cause the Prince and Peasant Fires;

This Britain has of old, will still maintain,

While Lewis trembles distant from the Plain.

Bavaria, wisely changes now the Scene,

Too weak a Foe, for that Heroic Queen!

Compell'd to Justice, Feuds at length shall cease,

And France, unthank'd restore the World to Peace.

An Act of Grace, the Poet's Release, by Mr. WORSDALE.

I.

JOY, Joy to all Mortals who got a Release,

From their Prisons and Cares, by the new Act of Grace,

Who from Bailiffs, and Spungers, and Straw-beds are freed,

And may shake a loose Leg now on each side the Tweed.

Derry Down Down.

II.

Tho' our Creditors rail, we may heartily laugh,

And a Health to both Houses of Parliament quaff,

For the Parliament saw that those miserly Knaves,

Being Slaves to their Money, would make us all Slaves.

Derry Down Down.

III.

Why should our Oppressors put poor Men in Goal,

Who have not a Farthing, nor Friend to be Bail?

And they're paid as they ought, when we're freed from our Debt,

Since they had nothing to hope for and nothing they get.

Derry Down Down.

IV.

What use is in Wealth but to purchase Content,

Since Gold's but a Curse, if not pleasantly spent;

Then a Fig for Confinement, tho' Fools make a Route,

For if poor we're put in, and if poor we get out.

Derry Down Down.

V.

Adieu to all Jailors, those blood-sucking Elves,

Who never can lock up such Rogues as themselves;

They grind and oppress us, but yet I can tell,

They'll be hamper'd by Satan, the Turn-key of Hell.

Derry Down Down.

VI.

Pettyfoggers adieu, and all Quacks of the Law,

Who plunder and rob us, yet keep us in Awe;

Who for Money sollicit each villainous thing,

And grow wealthy, while honester High-way-men swing.

Derry Down Down.

VII.

Away then we'll go for our Country to fight,

And venture where Danger and Honour invite;

'Tis glorious to die when with Foes we engage,

But 'tis two Deaths in one for to starve in a Cage.

Derry Down Down.

VIII.

Then God bless our King and our Parliament too,

And prosper the generous Schemes they pursue.

Their true British Spirit we plainly may see,

Is to humble Oppressors, and keep us all free.

Derry Down Down.

The Routing of the French Forces, made and sung by Mr. WORSDALE: Tune, Do del, do del do, pap pap pa pa.

I.

HARK I'll tell you a Welcome Story,

To our conquering Nation's Glory;

France and Spain so close united,

Now by all the World are slighted.

Do del, &c.

II.

Fleury's Schemes so late was dreaded,

Prove all France but empty headed;

His Schemes are broke, his Millions wasted,

His Troops by nasty Hussars beasted.

Do del, &c.

III.

See fierce Mallebois pursuing

Empty Fame and certain ruin;

With thirty thousand Men compleat,

He march'd to—view his Country Seat.

Do del, &c.

IV.

Next you see Bellisle the Hector,

France's Guard and Spain's Protector;

While Austrian Cannons play,

From Prague he boldly sneaks away.

Do del, &c.

V.

Here you see the Fleet have got in

Into Thouloon and there lies rotting:

For their wise Commanders think,

'Tis just as good to starve as sink.

Do del, &c.

VI.

From Prince Charles see Broglio running,

All Europe must applaud his Cunning;

The Austrian Force at such a Pitch is,

Once more he'll lose or daub his Breeches.

Do del, &c.

VII.

There Noailles the Hero thunders,

All his Captains, threat'ning Wonders;

Impatient, long'd, to give their Foes,

A Sample of their—fine lac'd Cloaths.

Do del, &c.

VIII.

See all France with Bonefires blazes,

The Jest is—what this Triumph raises!

They've learn'd the Knack from Lewis the Great,

To sing Te Deum—whene'er they're beat.

Do del, &c.

IX.

See thro' all the hottest Fireing,

While GEORGE rush'd on, his Foes retiring;

Too late they mourn their Grand faut-pa,

While GEORGE and Britains shout Huzza!

Do del, &c.

Information about this book

Title statement

Cibber and Sheridan: or, the Dublin miscellany. Containing all the advertisements, letters, ... Lately publish'd, on account of the theatric squabble. To which are added, several prologues and epilogues, spoke at the theatre in Smock Alley, ... by Mr. Cibber, ... Also two songs by Mr. Worsdale,

Cibber, Theophilus, 1703-1758.

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
Oxford University Computing Services
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OX2 6NN
ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/4657

ID [isbn10]

1106016564

ID [isbn13]

9781106016560

ID [TCP]

K066457.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3324574173

ID [ECGR]

0063700200

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— Cibber and Sheridan: or, the Dublin miscellany. Containing all the advertisements, letters, ... Lately publish'd, on account of the theatric squabble. To which are added, several prologues and epilogues, spoke at the theatre in Smock Alley, ... by Mr. Cibber, ... Also two songs by Mr. Worsdale,, Cibber, Theophilus, 1703-1758., Sheridan, Thomas, 1719-1788.. 79,[1]p. ; 12⁰. Dublin :: printed for Peter Wilson,. 1743.. [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT80958.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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