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ANON. in The Tryal of Skill, 1704

ANON. in The Tryal of Skill, 1704

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In the Year, MDCCIV. The extract below jibes at Congreve’s

intimacy with the celebrated actress Anne Bracegirdle, and his

share in the writing of Squire Trelooby, a play now lost but

acted early in 1704. It was an adaptation of Molière’s Monsieur

de Pourceaugnac, Congreve’s collaborators being Vanbrugh

and Dryden’s former protégé, William Walsh. The Yale editor

suggests as a possible author of The Tryal of Skill William Pittis.

When Congreve brim full of his Mistresses Charms,

Who had likewise made bold with Molier,

Came in piping hot from his Bracegirdle’s Arms,

And would have it his Title was clear.

What he rendred in English, was nothing like Smut;

For he wisely had taken his Choice;

And though the first Act in this Version might not,

Yet his Prudence should give him their Voice.

Said Apollo, You did most discreetly to take

A Part that was easiest and best;

Though the Rules of Behaviour Distinction should make,

And you’d not done amiss to chuse last.

But never pretend to be Modest or Chast,

Th’ Old Batchelor speaks you Obscene,

And Love for Love shews, notwithstanding your hast,

That your Thoughts are Impure and Unclean.

That meaning’s Lascivious your Dialogues bear,

Fit to grace the foul Language of Stews,

And though you are said to make a Wife of a Play’r,

You in those make a Whore of your Muse.

(ll. 481–500)


44. Richard Steele on The Old

Batchelour and ‘Doris’


The two extracts from The Tatler are quoted from The

Lucubrations of Isaac Bickerstaff Esq;, 4 vols (London: 1710–

11): (a) I, p. 76, misnumbered 68; (b) IV, p. 20. Extract (c) is

quoted from The Spectator, ed. Donald F.Bond, 5 vols (Oxford:

Clarendon Press, 1965), III, pp. 585–6. The text of (d) is taken

from Poetical Miscellanies (London: 1714), sig. A2r-A5v. The

latter was actually published on 29 December 1713.

(a) From The Tatler No. 9, Thursday 28 April to Saturday 30 April


This Evening we were entertained with The Old Batchelor, a Comedy

of deserved Reputation. In the Character which gives Name to the

Play, there is excellently represented the Reluctance of a battered

Debauchee to come into the Trammels of Order and Decency: He

neither languishes nor burns, but frets for Love. The Gentlemen of

more regular Behaviour are drawn with much Spirit and Wit, and the

Drama introduced by the Dialogue of the first Scene with uncommon,

yet natural, Conversation. The Part of Fondlewife is a lively Image of

the unseasonable Fondness of Age and Impotence. But instead of such

agreeable Works as these, the Town has this half Age been tormented

with Insects called Easie Writers, whose Abilities Mr. Wycherly one

Day described excellently well in one Word: That, said he, among

these Fellows is called Easy Writing, which any one may easily write.

(b) From The Tatler No. 193, Saturday 1 July to Tuesday 4 July


I had hardly entered the Room, when I was accosted by Mr. Thomas

Dogget, who desired my Favour in Relation to the Play which was

to be acted for his Benefit on Thursday. He pleased me in saying it

was The Old Batchelor, in which Comedy there is a necessary



Circumstance observed by the Author, which most other Poets either

overlook or do not understand, that is to say, the Distinction of

Characters. It is very ordinary with Writers to indulge a certain

Modesty of believing all Men as witty as themselves, and making all

the Persons of the Play speak the Sentiments of the Author, without

any manner of Respect to the Age, Fortune, or Quality, of him that

is on the Stage. Ladies talk like Rakes, and Footmen make Similes:

But this Writer knows Men, which makes his Plays reasonable

Entertainments, while the Scenes of most others are like the Tunes

between the Acts. They are perhaps agreeable Sounds, but they have

no Idea’s affixed to them.

(c) From The Spectator No. 422, Friday 4 July 1712.

After these several Characters of Men who succeed or fail in Raillery,

it may not be amiss to reflect a little further what one takes to be

the most agreeable Kind of it; and that to me appears when the

Satyr is directed against Vice, with an Air of Contempt of the Fault,

but no ill Will to the Criminal. Mr. Congreve’s Doris is a Masterpiece in this Kind. It is the Character of a Woman utterly abandoned,

but her Impudence by the finest Piece of Raillery is made only


Peculiar therefore is her Way,

Whether by Nature taught,

I shall not undertake to say,

Or by Experience bought.

For who o’er Night obtain’d her Grace,

She can next Day disown,

And stare upon the strange Man’s Face,

As one she ne’er had known.

So well she can the Truth disguise,

Such artful Wonder frame,

The Lover or distrusts his Eyes,

Or thinks ’twas all a Dream.

Some censure this as lewd or low,

Who are to Bounty blind;

But to forget what we bestow,

Bespeaks a noble Mind.

[‘Doris’, ll. 49–64]



(d) Dedication of Poetical Miscellanies




MY Name, as Publisher of the following Miscellanies, I am sensible,

is but a slight Recommendation of them to the Publick; but the Town’s

Opinion of them will be raised, when it sees them address’d to Mr.

Congreve. If the Patron is but known to have a Taste for what is

presented to him, it gives an hopeful Idea of the Work; how much

more, when He is an acknowledg’d Master of the Art He is desired

to Favour? Your just Success in the various Parts of Poetry, will make

Your Approbation of the following Sheets a Favour to many Ingenious

Gentlemen, whose Modesty wants the Sanction of such an Authority.

Men of your Talents oblige the World, when they are studious to

produce in others the Similitude of their Excellencies. Your great

Discerning in distinguishing the Characters of Mankind, which is

manifested in Your Comedies, renders Your good Opinion a just

Foundation for the Esteem of other Men. I know, indeed, no

Argument against these Collections, in Comparison of any other

Tonson has heretofore Printed; but that there are in it no Verses of

Yours: That gentle, free, and easie Faculty, which also in Songs, and

short Poems, You possess above all others, distinguishes it self whereever it appears. I cannot but instance Your inimitable DORIS, which

excels, for Politeness, fine Raillery, and courtly Satyr, any Thing we

can meet with in any Language.

Give me leave to tell You, that when I consider Your Capacity

this Way, I cannot enough Applaud the Goodness of Your Mind,

that has given so few Examples of these Severities, under the

Temptation of so great Applause, as the ill-natured World bestows

on them, tho’ addressed without any Mixture of Your Delicacy.

I cannot leave my Favourite DORIS, without taking Notice how

much that short Performance discovers a True Knowledge of Life.

DORIS is the Character of a Libertine Woman of Condition, and

the Satyr is work’d up accordingly: For People of Quality are seldom

touched with any Representation of their Vices, but in a Light which

makes them Ridiculous.

As much as I Esteem You for Your Excellent Writings, by which

You are an Honour to our Nation; I chuse rather, as one that has

passed many Happy Hours with You, to celebrate that easie



Condescention of Mind, and Command of a pleasant Imagination,

which give You the uncommon Praise of a Man of Wit, always to

please, and never to offend. No one, after a joyful Evening, can reflect

upon an Expression of Mr. Congreve’s, that dwells upon him with


In a Man capable of Exerting himself any Way, this (whatever the

Vain and Ill-natured may think of the Matter) is an Excellence above

the brightest Sallies of Imagination.

The Reflection upon this most equal, amiable, and correct

Behaviour, which can be observed only by your intimate

Acquaintance, has quite diverted me from acknowledging your several

Excellencies as a Writer; but to dwell particularly on those Subjects,

would have no very good Effect upon the following Performances of

my Self and Friends: Thus I confess to You, your Modesty is spared

only by my Vanity, and yet I Hope You will give me leave to indulge

it yet further, in telling all the World, I am, with great Truth,


Your most Obedient, and

most Humble Servant,


45. John Dennis in Remarks upon Mr.

Pope’s Translation of Homer


From The Critical Works of John Dennis, ed. E.N.Hooker, 2

vols (Baltimore, Md: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1943),

II, pp. 121–2.

The following tribute occurs in Dennis’s hostile critique of

Pope’s Homer, which, perhaps not coincidentally, had been

dedicated to Congreve. Dennis’s animosity towards Pope does



not seem to have soured his relations with Congreve, who for

his part remained on good terms with both men.

There is a Gentleman, the living Ornament of the Comick Scene,

who after he had for several Years entertain’d the Town, with that

Wit and Humour, and Art and Vivacity, which are so becoming of

the Comick Stage, produced at last a Play, which besides that it was

equal to most of the former in those pleasant Humours which the

Laughers so much require, had some certain Scenes in it, which were

writ with so much Grace and Delicacy, that they alone were worth

an entire Comedy. What was the Event? The Play was hiss’d by

Barbarous Fools in the Acting; and an impertinent Trifle was brought

on after it, which was acted with vast Applause. Which rais’d so

much Indignation in the foresaid Writer, that he quitted the Stage in

Disdain, and Comedy left it with him. And those nice great Persons,

whose squeamish Palates rejected Quails and Partridges, have pin’d

ever since in such a Dearth, that they greedily feed upon Bull-Beef.

Thus have I set before the Readers Eyes, in as short a Method as

I could, the cruel Treatment that so many extraordinary Men have

received from their Countrymen for these last hundred Years. If I

should now shift the Scene, and show all that Penury, and that Avarice

chang’d all at once to Riot and Profuseness, and more squander’d

away upon one Object, than would have satisfied the greater part of

those extraordinary Men, the Reader to whom this one Creature

should be altogether unknown, would fancy him a Prodigy of Art

and Nature, would believe that all the great Qualities of those

extraordinary Persons were centred in him alone; that he had the

Capacity and Profoundness of BACON, the fine Painting of

SPENSER, the Force and Sublimity, and Elevation of MILTON; the

fine Thinking and Elegance, and Versification of DRYDEN; the Fire

and Enthusiasm of LEE; the moving melting Tenderness of OTWAY;

the Pleasantry of BUTLER; the Wit and Satire of WYCHERLEY;

and the Humour and Spirit, and Art and Grace of



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