University of Virginia Library

TO A
CERTAIN GENTLEMAN.[1]

BECAUSE I know it would give you less Concern to find your Name in an impertinent Satyr, than before the daintiest Dedication of a modern Author, I conceal it.

Let me talk never so idly to you, this way; you are, at least, under no necessity of taking it to yourself: Nor when I boast, of your favours, need you blush to have bestow'd them. Or I may now give you

all the Attributes that raise a wise and good-natur'd Man to Esteem and Happiness, and not be censured as a Flatterer by my own or your Enemies.

— I place my own first; because as they are the greater Number, I am afraid of not paying the greater Respect to them. Yours, if such there are, I imagine are too well-bred to declare themselves: But as there is no Hazard or visible Terror in an Attack upon my defenceless Station, my Censurers have generally been Persons of an intrepid Sincerity. Having therefore shut the Door against them while I am thus privately addressing you, 1 have little to apprehend from either of them.

Under this Shelter, then, I may safely tell you, That the greatest Encouragement I have had to publish this Work, has risen from the several Hours of Patience you have lent me at the Reading it. It is true, I took the Advantage of your Leisure in the Country, where moderate Matters serve for Amusement ; and there, indeed, how far your Good-nature for an old Acquaintance, or your Reluctance to put the Vanity of an Author out of countenance, may have carried you, I cannot be sure; and yet Appearances give me stronger Hopes: For was not the Complaisance of a whole Evening's Attention as much as an Author of more Importance ought to have expected ? Why then was I desired the next Day to give you a second Lecture? Or why was I kept a third Day with you, to tell you more of the same Story ? If these Circumstances have made

me vain, shall I say, Sir, you are accountable for them ? No, Sir, I will rather so far flatter myself as to suppose it possible, That your having been a Lover of the Stage (and one of those few good judges who know the Use and Value of it, under a right Regulation) might incline you to think so copious an Account of it a less tedious Amusement, than it may naturally be to others of different good Sense, who may have less Concern or Taste for it. But be all this as it may; the Brat is now born, and rather than see it starve upon the Bare Parish Pro-vision, I chuse thus clandestinely to drop it at your Door, that it may exercise One of your Many Virtues, your Charity, in supporting it.

If the World were to know into whose Hands I have thrown it, their Regard to its Patron might incline them to treat it as one of his Family : But in the Consciousness of what I am, I chuse not, Sir, to say who you are. If your Equal in Rank were to do publick justice to your Character, then, indeed, the Concealment of your Name might be an unnecessary Diffidence: But am I, Sir, of Consequence enough, in any Guise, to do Honour to Mr. —? Were I to set him in the most laudable Lights that Truth and good Sense could give him, or his own Likeness would require, my officious Mite would be lost in that general Esteem and Regard which People of the first Consequence, even of different Parties, have a Pleasure in paying him. Encomiums to Superiors from Authors of lower Life, as

they are naturally liable to Suspicion, can add very little Lustre to what before was visible to the publick Eye : Such Offerings (to use the Stile they are generally dressed in) like Pagan Incense, evaporate on the Altar, and rather gratify the Priest than the Deity.

But you, Sir, are to be approached in Terms within the Reach of common Sense: The honest Oblation of a chearful Heart is as much as you desire or I am able to bring you: A Heart that has just Sense enough to mix Respect with Intimacy, and is never more delighted than when your rural Hours of Leisure admit me, with all my laughing Spirits, to be my idle self, and in the whole Day's Possession of you ! Then, indeed, I have Reason to be vain; I am, then, distinguish'd by a Pleasure too great to be conceal'd, and could almost pity the Man of graver Merit that dares not receive it with the same unguarded Transport! This Nakedness of Temper the World may place in what Rank of Folly or Weakness they please; but 'till Wisdom can give me something that will make me more heartily happy, I am content to be gaz'd at as I am, without lessening my Respect for those whose Passions may be more soberly covered.

Yet, Sir, will I not deceive you; 'tis not the Lustre of your publick Merit, the Affluence of your Fortune, your high Figure in Life, nor those honourable Distinctions, which you had rather deserve than be told of, that have so many Years made my plain

Heart hang after you: These are but incidental Ornaments, that, 'tis true, may be of Service to you in the World's Opinion; and though, as one among the Crowd, I may rejoice that Providence has so deservedly bestow'd them; yet my particular Attachment has risen from a meer natural and more engaging Charm, The Agreeable Companion! Nor is my Vanity half so much gratified in the Honour, as my Sense is in the Delight of your Society! When I see you lay aside the Advantages of Superiority, and by your own Chearfulness of Spirits call out all that Nature has given me to meet them then 'tis I taste you! then Life runs high! I desire possess you !

Yet, Sir, in this distinguish'd Happiness I give not up my farther Share of that Pleasure, or of that Right I have to look upon you with the publick Eye, and to join in the general Regard so unanimously pay'd to that uncommon Virtue, your Integrity! This, Sir, the World allows so conspicuous a Part of your Character, that, however invidious the Merit, neither the rude License of Detraction, nor the Prejudice of Party, has ever once thrown on it the least Impeachment or Reproach. This is that commanding Power that, in publick Speaking, makes you heard with such Attention! This it is that discourages and keeps silent the Insinuations of Prejudice and Suspicion; and almost renders your Eloquence an unnecessary Aid to your Assertions: Even your Opponents, conscious of your Integrity,

hear you rather as a Witness than an Orator-But this, Sir, is drawing you too near the Light, Integrity is too particular a Virtue to be cover'd with a general Application. Let me therefore only talk to you, as at Tusculum (for so I will call that sweet Retreat, which your own Hands have rais'd) where like the fam'd Orator of old, when publick Cares permit, you pass so many rational, unbending Hours: There! and at such Times, to have been admitted, still plays in my Memory more like a fictitious than a real Enjoyment! H ow many golden Evenings, in that Theatrical Paradise of water'd Lawns and hanging Groves, have I walk'd and prated down the Sun in social Happiness! Whether the Retreat of Cicero, in Cost, Magnificence, or curious Luxury of Antiquities, might not out-blaze the simplex Munditiis, the modest Ornaments of your Villa, is not within my reading to determine: But that the united Power of Nature, Art, or Elegance of Taste, could have thrown so many varied Objects into a more delightful Harmony, is beyond my Conception.

When I consider you in this View, and as the Gentleman of Eminence surrounded with the general Benevolence of Mankind; I rejoice, Sir, for you and for myself; to see You in this particular Light of Merit, and myself sometimes admitted to my more than equal Share of you.

If this Apology for my past Life discourages you not from holding me in your usual Favour, let me

quit this greater Stage, the World, whenever I may, I shall think This the best-acted Part of any I have undertaken, since you first condescended to laugh with,

SIR,
Your most obedient,
most obli'ged, and
most humble Servant,
COLLEY CIBBER.
Novemb. 6. 1739