Part 2

According to the title page, _The Great Man's Answer_ is by the same author as _Are these things so?_. Once again the setting is Pope's grotto, but this time the poet engages Walpole in a direct dialogue. The poem begins with the poet being disturbed in his retreat by someone "thundering at the gate." It is Walpole who has come to answer the questions asked in _Are these things so?_. He maintains that Britain has not fallen as low as Pope claims and that the Honour of the Fleet is still intact. He defends his handling of Parliament, his fiscal policies, his appointment of Placemen and Pensioners, his attitude to Commerce, and the self-aggrandisement involved in many of his contracts. These defences, which only bring out a severer irony in Pope, lead up to Walpole's version of his own epitaph in contrast to that given him in _Are these things so?_. Where Pope had stressed his role as the grave-digger of British Liberty, Walpole sees himself as the healer of factions. Finally he falls back on his ultimate weapon of bribery. But his offers of money, pension, place, title, and honour are turned down by the poet with increasing scorn, and the poem ends with appropriate focus on Pope' incorruptibility.

The following notes are offered to help with the topical allusions.[36] The poem opens with Pope directing his servant, John Serle (l. 7, p. 1), to see who is thundering at his gate. This is a playful allusion to the famous opening of _An Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot_ where Serle had been urged to an exactly opposite course of action. The "_Gazetteer_ Abuse" scornfully mentioned by Pope (l. 37, p. 3) is a reference to _The Daily Gazetteer_, a pro-Government newspaper which ran from 30 June 1735-20 June 1745. The incomplete words, "Se--s" (l. 66, p. 4) and "P------ts!" (l. 79, p. 5) refer to Senates and Parliaments respectively. Walpole's claim (l. 89, p. 5) that "_Gin_ would then be drank without control" refers to the government's Gin Act of 1736, which placed an excise of five shillings a gallon on gin. His later claim that there would be "No _License_ on the _Press_, or on the _Stage_" (l. 98, p. 6) refers to the Stage Licensing Act of 1737, which placed the theatre under the control of the Lord Chamberlain.

For Pope's ironic application of the epithet "sturdy" (l. 164, p. 9) to the London Merchants see the notes to _Are these things so?_. Pope's mention of "_Angria_" (l. 204, p. 11) is a comparison of Walpole to a Mahrattan pirate chief of the early part of the century. Walpole's introduction to his own epitaph, "They _best_ can speak it, who will _feel_ it most" (l. 223, p. 12) is an allusion to Pope's _Eloisa to Abelard_ (l. 366): "He best can paint 'em who shall feel 'em most."

UNIVERSITY OF WESTERN ONTARIO London, Ontario, Canada

NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION

[1] H. R. Plomer, _A Dictionary of the Printers and Booksellers Who Were at Work in England. 1726-1775_ (Oxford, 1932), p. 61.

[2] _The London Daily Post and General Advertiser_, 23 October 1740. "This Day is Published. Are these things so? The previous question from an Englishman in his Grotto, to a Great Man at Court."

[3] _The London Daily Post and General Advertiser_, 8 November 1740. "This Day is Published. Yes, they are: Being an answer to Are these things so?"

[4] _The Daily Gazetteer_, 15 November 1740. "This Day is Published. What of That! Occasioned by a Pamphlet intituled Are these things so? And its Answer, Yes, They are:"

[5] _The London Daily Post and General Advertiser_, 17 November 1740. "Tomorrow will be published. The Weather-Menders. A proper Answer to Are these things so? By Mr. Spiltimber."

[6] _The Daily Gazetteer_, 22 November 1740. "This Evening will be Published; The Second Edition of What of That!"

[7] I have been unable to find an advertisement for this pamphlet, but it must have been published at the end of November or very early in December since _Have at you All_ (see following footnote) lists it as one of the pamphlets it is replying to.

[8] _The London Magazine_, December 1740. The Monthly Catalogue. Item 13. "Have at you all. By the Author of Yes they are."

This listing can only be taken as giving a terminal date. The pamphlet may well have been published in late November. _Are these things so?_, for example, is listed in the Monthly Catalogue for November.

[9] _The London Daily Post and General Advertiser_, 1 December 1740. "Tomorrow, at Noon, will be published. What Things? or, An Impartial Inquiry What Things are so, and What Things are not so. Occasion'd by two late Poems, the one entitled Are these things so? And the other entitled Yes, they are."

[10] _The Daily Post_, 6 December 1740. "This Day is Published. (The Second Edition, corrected; with the Addition of twenty lines omitted in the former Impressions) Are these things so? The previous question from an Englishman in his Grotto to a Great Man at Court."

[11] _The Daily Post_, 18 December 1740. "This Day is Published. The Great Man's Answer. In a Dialogue between his Honour and the Englishman in his Grotto. By the author of Are these things so?"

[12] _The London Daily Post and General Advertiser_, 20 December 1740. "This Day is Published. A Supplement to a late excellent Poem, entitled Are these things so?"

[13] _The Daily Post_, 23 January 1741. "This Day is Published. The Third Edition. They are Not."

[14] At the same time the South Sea Company agreed to pay a duty of 25% on all profits to the King of Spain. It was the question of the payment of this duty for illegal trips that became the basis of Spain's later claim for reparation. These details are taken from William Coxe, _Memoirs of the Life and Administration of Sir Robert Walpole, Earl of Orford_, 3 vols. (London, 1798), I, 589.

[15] Coxe, I, 579.

[16] These figures are taken from H.W.V. Temperley, "Chapter II, The Age of Walpole and the Pelhams," _The Cambridge Modern History_, ed. A. W. Ward, G. W. Prothero, and Stanley Leathes (Cambridge, 1909), VI, 66.

[17] Coxe, I, 617.

[18] Coxe, I, 618 _n_.

[19] I have been unable to do any more to settle the authorship and have had to be content here with presenting the evidence.

[20] D. E. Baker, I. Reed, and S. Jones, _Biographia Dramatica_, 3 vols. (London, 1812), I, ii, 512-515.

[21] Robert Watt, _Bibliotheca Britannica_, 4 vols. (Edinburgh, 1824), II, 670.

[22] Most of the details in this brief biography, including these quotations, are taken from "The Life of the Revd. Mr. James Millar," _The Lives of the Poets of Great-Britain and Ireland_, By Mr. Theophilus Cibber, and other hands (London, 1753), V, 332-334.

[23] One of these, _The Man of Taste_, 1735, has sometimes been mistakenly confused with a pamphlet written three years earlier, _Mr. Taste, The Poetical Fop_, which viciously attacked Pope. See James T. Hillhouse, "The Man of Taste," _MLN_, XLIII (1928), 174-176. There is no evidence that Miller ever attacked Pope and, indeed, his political and literary sympathies put him strongly on Pope's side.

[24] Cibber, p. 333.

[25] Maynard Mack, _The Garden and the City_ (Toronto, 1969), p. 190. Mack is the first critic to pay any attention to these pamphlets and this reprint is largely offered to supplement his illuminating and suggestive book.

[26] A. Pope, _The First Satire of the Second Book of Horace Imitated_ (London, 1733), l. 121. It is perhaps interesting to note that according to J. V. Guerinot, _Pamphlet Attacks on Alexander Pope 1711-1744_ (London, 1969), p. xlviii, "No other line more infuriated the dunces, it was for them Pope's ultimate hypocrisy."

[27] Walpole visited Pope sometime in the summer of 1725. See Pope's letter to Fortescue, 23 September 1725. _The Correspondence of Alexander Pope_, ed. G. Sherburn (Oxford, 1956), II, 323.

[28] For a full account of the ways in which Pope's actual retired life in his Twickenham villa, garden, and grotto became, in the 1730's, emblematic of the ideal of cultivated virtue, see Maynard Mack, _The Garden and the City_, especially Chapter VI. According to Mack, Pope becomes "spiritual patron of the poetical opposition to Walpole" (p. 190).

[29] James Boswell, _Life of Johnson_, ed. R. W. Chapman (Oxford, 1953), p. 91.

[30] This assumption is based on Johnson's comment in his life of Pope that "the whole process was probably intended rather to intimidate Pope than to punish Whitehead." S. Johnson, _Lives of the English Poets_, ed. G. Birkbeck Hill (Oxford, 1905), III, 181.

[31] _The Gentleman's Magazine_, IX, 104.

[32] _The London Daily Post and General Advertiser_, Saturday, 15 November 1740. "WHEREAS it has been generally reported that I am the Author of a Poem, lately publish'd, entitled ARE THESE THINGS SO? I think it necessary to assure the Public, that the said Report is without any Foundation, being entirely a Stranger both to that Piece and the Author of it. P. Whitehead."

[33] "There is just now come out another imitation of the same original [_Ars Poetica_], _Harlequin Horace_, which has a good deal of humour." Sherburn, III, 173.

[34] See _Fog's Weekly Journal_, 14 April 1733.

[35] For an account of the publication of these verses see Mack, p. 70, _n_. 1.

[36] It should be noted that the pamphlet is full of typographical errors. Lines 104-106, p. 6, should be prefixed by "G.M.," since Walpole must be the speaker, as should the last two lines in the poem, lines 251-252, p. 13. Page ten mistakenly carries the number twelve at the top of the page.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

The facsimiles of _Are these things so?_ (1740; the Second Edition, corrected; 163.n.57) and of _The Great Man's Answer_ (1740; 11630.h.50) are reproduced from copies in the British Museum by kind permission of the Trustees.

Are these Things So?

THE PREVIOUS QUESTION, FROM AN ENGLISHMAN in his GROTTO, TO A GREAT MAN at COURT.

_Lusisti Satis, edisti Satis, atque_[A] _bibisti_, TEMPUS ABIRE TIBI----Horat.

The Second Edition corrected:

With the Addition of Twenty Lines omitted in the former Impressions.

_LONDON:_

Printed for T. Cooper, at the _Globe_ in _Paternoster-Row_. MDCCXL.

[A] Some great and erudite Criticks, instead of _Bibisti_, read Bribisti in this Place. Which of the two is the most applicable, our Querist does not pretend to determine.

Are these Things So?

The Second Edition.

With great Additions and Corrections.

(Price One Shilling.)

ADVERTISEMENT.

The first Publication of the following Poem having been entrusted to the Care of the Printer, it came, thro' either his Ignorance or Timorousness, extremely mutilated, and incorrect from the Press. The twenty last Lines were left out, which made the Conclusion very abrupt, and in a great measure destroy'd the Intention, as well as Unity, of the whole Piece. The Characters of some great Personages were entirely omitted, and fictitious Names placed to others, instead of the real ones inserted by the Author, who was always of Opinion, that deserved Praise, as well as just Satire, should disdain a Mask. As to the Pointing, it was false in almost every Line, and there were many Words either mis-plac'd or mis-spell'd in almost every Page. Notwithstanding its appearing under these many Disadvantages, the Public were pleas'd to shew their Approbation of it in general, and to give it such a generous and uncommon Reception, that a large Number were obliged to be printed off, to supply the present Demand, before there was Leisure to restore or correct any thing. The following Edition was at length undertaken by the Author Himself, and is entirely agreeable to the Manuscript which he at first put into the Hands of the Printer.

Are these Things So?

THE PREVIOUS QUESTION, From an ENGLISHMAN in his GROTTO, To a GREAT MAN at COURT.

Dead to the World's each Scene of Pomp or Care, Wrapp'd up in Apathy to all that's there; My sole _Ambition_ o'er myself to reign, My _Avarice_ to make each Hour a Gain; My _Scorn_--the Threats or Favours of a Crown, A Prince's Whisper, or a Tyrant's Frown; My _Pride_--forgetting and to be forgot; My _Lux'ry_--lolling in my peaceful Grot. All Rancour, Party, Pique, expung'd my Mind, Free or to _laugh_ at, or _lament_ Mankind; Here my calm Hours I with the Wise employ, And the great _Greek_, or _Roman_ Sage enjoy; Or, gayly bent, the Mirth-fraught Page peruse, Or, pensive, keep a _Fast-Day_ with the Muse. Close shut my Cottage-Gate, where none pretends To lift the Latch, but Virtue and her Friends; Tho' pardon me--a Word, Sir, in your Ear, Once, _long ago_, I think I saw You here.

Yet to the World, all Hermit as I live, From all its vain Regards a Fugitive; Still in my Breast my _Country_ claims a Part, And Love of _Britain_ clings about my Heart: Then tell me, Sir, for You, 'tis said, best know, Is She, as Fame reports her, _fall'n so low_? Is _She_, who for so many Ages rode _Unquestion'd_ Monarch of the _Water-Flood_; Whose freighted Barks were hail'd in ev'ry Zone, And made each _India's_ envy'd Wealth her own; Protected still by such a Guardian Force, That were they e'er molested in their Course, Sure _Vengeance_ on th' Aggressor straight was pour'd, Unless _Seven-fold_ was for the Wrong restor'd? Is She now sunk to such _low Degree_, That _Gaul_ or _Spain_ must _limit_ out her _Sea_? That She must ask _what Winds_ her Sails shall fill, And steer by _Bounty_ who once steer'd _at Will_? Whilst the vast _Navies_ rais'd for her Support, _Nod_ on the _Main_, or _rot_ before the _Port_; With Hands _ty'd up_ vain _Menaces_ retail, Or try by meek _Perswasion_ to prevail?

And is there--_What!_--So many _Millions_ gone, So _many_,--Heavens! yet nothing, _nothing_ done? Do then her Pow'rs this drowsy Sabbath keep? Is there no Trump will rouse 'em from their Sleep? Are they, quite lost to Empire and Renown, Bemus'd at Home, or sunk in _foreign Down_? Or, is it true, what Fame pretends to say, That You, Sir, are the _Author_ of To-day? That You're the fatal Cause of _Britain_'s Shame, The _Spend-thrift_ of her Freedom and her Fame? That _Albion_'s Sons are, by your Arts, become The _Dupes_ of Foreigners, and _Slaves_ of Home; That her fam'd S--te, on whose sage Debate, And _free_ Resolves, depended _Europe_'s Fate, Now meanly on your Nod _dependent_ sit, And _Yea_ or _No_ but just as you think fit; Nay, that the _Chiefs_ of even _Levi's Tribe_, Bow down to you, the _Converts_ of a _Bribe_? Whilst our trim _Warriors_, deaf to Honour's Call, Now wage no War but in the Senate-Hall; There wait your _Generalissimo_ Command, To fight _your_ Battles 'gainst the Patriot Band?

And that should One more noble than the rest, Disdain to truckle to your high Behest, Speak what he thinks, and freely plead the Cause Of _Britain's_ Commerce, Liberty, and Laws; Exert his Pow'r to check Corruption's Swing, And serve, at _once_, his Country and his King, His _dang'rous_ Virtues are discarded straight, As sure as they are Vertues of your Hate; Stripp'd of all Honour, Dignity, and Rule, To cloath some _Kindred_ Oaf, or _Titled_ Tool.

Or should a brave and honest _Adm'ral_ dare To make one Conquest tho' in Time of War, Without _your Leave_ to risk a vig'rous Blow, And shew what _Britons_, if they _might_, could do, Whilst ev'ry raptur'd Voice resounds his Praise, And grateful Hands triumphal Columns raise, Your venal Scribes are order'd all they can To _lessen_ and _prophane_ the _godlike Man_.

That thus the _Fountain_ of _Britannia's_ Health, _Source_ of her Grandeur, Liberty, and Wealth, Polluted by your _all-corrupting_ Hand, With rank Infection deluges the Land; Parent at once of _Want_ and _Luxury_, Of open Rapine and dark Treachery; The Knaves _Elixir_, and the Just Man's _Bane_, _Food_ to the _Locust_, _Mildew_ to the _Swain_; Pouring on those who once in _Goshen_ dwelt; More deadly Plagues than _Ægypt_ ever felt, And _worse_ than _Israel's heaviest_ Task inflicts Tho' _gone_ our _Straw_ yet claiming _double Bricks_ Whilst _Commerce_ flies before th' oppressive Weight, And seeks in _Gaul_ a more indulgent Fate; Where, Shame to _Britain_! the fair Stranger Guest Is hail'd with Raptures, and her _Wrongs_ redress'd.

"What then?" I'm told you say, "we nothing lose, "If they've our Commerce we've their wooden Shoes; "And since our _Merchants_ are so _fancy_ grown, "'Tis Time to pull _sturdy Beggars_ down; "They mutiny'd for _War_, and _War_ they have, "But _such a one_ that soon a _Peace_ they'll crave; "_Peace_ shall be Theirs, but _such a Peace_, that then "They'll curse their Prayers and wish for War again; "Thus pois'ning to 'em what they ask as best, "I'll ruin 'em by _granting_ their Request.

Are these Things so? Or is it Fiction all? A _sland'rous Picture_ drawn in Soot and Gall? Offspring of Disappointment or Disgrace, Of Those who _want_ or who have _lost_ a _Place_? If so, why lives the Scandal? up for Shame, Confront your Foes, and vindicate your Fame; For, trust me Sir, to wink at such Offence, Rather proclaims a _Fear_ than _Innocence_; "No one is guilty 'till he's guilty prou'd---- Come then, be this wild Clamour strait remov'd; In _conscious Justice_ cloath'd assert your Right, Shake off this Load of Obloquy and Spite, Like _Samuel_ dauntless cry, _Lo here I am_! "Witness against me if I'm ought to blame. "Before the Lord and his Anointed say "Whose _Rights_ or _Honours_ have I ta'en away? "Whom, speak, have I _defrauded_ or _oppress_'d, "Or ever pilfer'd _Forage_ from whose Beast? "Of what vile _Contract_ was I e'er the Scribe, "Or of whose Hands have I receiv'd a _Bribe_? "What _Scheme_ did ever I at Home propose "But whence some _nameless_ Profit would have rose? "Or what _C--n----n_ e're devise abroad "But such as _Britain_'s Se--e did applaud? "What of my _Country_'s Money e'er bestow'd "Except in _secret Service_ for her Good? "Or what _Incumbrance_ on her _Commerce_ laid, "But for th' Increase of _our_ Revenues made? "In my dear Country's Service now _grown gray_ "_Spotless_ I've walk'd before you to this Day "My Thoughts laid out my precious Time all spent "In the hard _Slavery_ of _Government_; "My Brother too the _fruitless_ Bondage shares, "And all your _Peace_ is owing to his Cares, "Girding his Loins he Travels far and near "And brings home some _rare Treaty_ ev'ry Year. "You have my Sons too with you who bow down "Beneath the weighty Service of the Crown; "My Cousins and their Cousins too--hard Fate! "Are _loaded_ with the Offices of State; "And not _one Soul_ of all my Kindred's free "From _sharing_ in the Public Drudgery:

"Why then these Shafts of Calumny you throw, "This groundless _Odium_ cast on all I do? "Speak out with Freedom what you have to say, "Aside all _Influence_, _Pow'r_, and _Skreen_ I lay, } "And put my Conduct on the Proof To-day. } This Sir, if you dare stand the Inquest, do, And then if you've but _Samuel_'s _Answer_ too, If all this heavy Charge is void of Ground, And by the _publick Voice_ you're _guiltless_ found, Resume your Power, with Terrors arm'd go forth, And blast the Villains that traduc'd your Worth; Who basely durst your Righteous Course Arraign, And Soil the Glory's of great _Brunswick_'s Reign.

But if you _know_ your Cause is not the _best_ Know that you have Defrauded and Oppress'd, That you have ta'en and giv'n many a Bribe, And of a _wicked Contract_ been the Scribe. That you _have_ pilfer'd _Forage_ from the Beast, And with the _Publick Wealth_ your _own_ encreas'd; That a dire _Scheme_ you laid t' _Excise_ the Land, And to a vile C--v----n set your Hand; That you've _Monopoliz'd_ each Post and Place, To aggrandize your self and _Mushroom_ Race, That all your Kindred--Brother, Sons, and Cousins, Have _Titles_ and _Employments_ by the _Dozens_; And for as many _Sidesmen_ as are wanted, _New Places_ are contriv'd, _new Pensions_ granted. If you are travell'd in these _crooked_ Ways With a long Train of black _et Cetera's_; Whilst the _whole Nation_ loaths your very Name, And Babes and Sucklings your _Dispraise_ proclaim; Turn your Eyes inward, on yourself reflect, Think what you _are_, then what you're to _expect_: Pass a few Years the _Sisters_ cut your Thread, And rank you in the Number of the Dead; But of what _Dead_? not those whose Memory, Bloom with sweet Savour through Posterity. Those deathless Worthies, who, as Good as Great, Or rais'd a fall'n, or prop'd a sinking State; Or in the breach of Desolation stood, And for their Country's Welfare pledg'd their Blood. No! with the _Curs'd_ your Tomb shall foremost stand, The GAVESTON'S and WOLSEY'S of the Land.

Your Epitaph--_In this foul Grave lies HE_, _Who dug the grave of_ British _Liberty_.

Since then your Glass has but few Hours to run, Quit quit the Reins before we're quite undone. Why should you torture out your Dregs of Life, In publick Tumult, Infamy and Strife? To the last gasp maintain a baneful Power Only to see your Country die before? If not for _us_--for your _own_ Family, And as you've made 'em _Great_, pray leave 'em _Free_.

But if there's nothing that can bribe your Will, From this perverse Propensity to Ill; If to the Grave you are on Mischeif bent. By growth in Crimes too harden'd to Repent. If, whilst _perhaps_ you may, you _won't Retreat_, Resolv'd the Nations _Ruin_ to compleat, On _Britain_'s Downfall to erect a Name, And trust to an _immortal Guilt_ for Fame, May'nt the _Just Vengeance_ of an injur'd Land, Thus greatly urg'd, exert a glorious _Stand_? Drive not the _Brave_ and _Wretched_ to Despair, For though of Freedom, Wealth and Power left bare, The Plunder'd still have _Tongues_--and they may rear, Their loud Complaints to reach their _Sovereign's_ Ear, Lay, with one Voice, their _Wrongs_ before the _Throne_, Whilst HE whose _Fame_ to both the Poles is known, All Europe's Arbiter, all Asia's Theme, Affrick's Delight, America's Supreme; HE who does still express his Royal Care, His loving Subjects Injuries to repair; To their _Addresses_ graciously attends, And above all their _Liberty_ defends, Who is as Wise as Pious, Mild as Great, And whose sole Business is to nurse the State; _May_ judge their Cause and, greatly rous'd, command, The _Staff_ of _Power_ from thy _polluted_ Hand, And to some _abler Head_ and _better Heart_, His long _dishonour'd Stewardship_ impart.

Perhaps to Thee! great _Carteret_, who can'st boast. Talents quite equal to the arduous Post; A keen Discernment; strong, yet bridled Thought, One Natures Dow'r, one by just Learning taught: Calm Fortitude, unwarp'd Integrity, And Flame divine to keep thy Country Free.

Or to thy Conduct, _Pultney_! whose just Zeal, Is still exerted for the publick Weal; Whose boundless Knowledge and distinguish'd Sense, Flow in full Tides of rapid Eloquence; And to the native Treasures of whose Mind, We see form'd Worth, and wide Experience join'd.

With these the darling _Chesterfield_ may sit An _able_ Partner--if his _rebel Wit_ } Can to such _Pains_ and _Penalties_ submit. }