n by Will Honeycomb to a rehearsal (_Spectator_, January 31, 1712),
and Sir Roger de Coverley himself attended one of the performances
(_Ib._, March 25) and was profoundly affected by its pathos. The last
paper was of course by Addison, and is a real triumph of art as a most
delicate application of humour to the slightly unworthy purpose of
puffing a friend and disciple. Addison had again praised Philips's
Pastorals in the _Spectator_ (October 30, 1712), and amongst the early
numbers of the _Guardian_ were a short series of papers upon pastoral
poetry, in which the fortunate Ambrose was again held up as a model,
whilst no notice was taken of Pope's rival performance. Pope, one may
believe, had a contempt for Philips, whose pastoral inanities, whether
better or worse than his own, had not the excuse of being youthful
productions. Philips has bequeathed to our language the phrase
"Namby-pamby," imposed upon him by Henry Carey (author of _Sally in our
Alley_, and the clever farce _Chrononhotonthologos_), and years after
this he wrote a poem to Miss Pulteney in the nursery, beginning,--

"Dimply damsel, sweetly smiling,"

which may sufficiently interpret the meaning of his nickname. Pope's
irritable vanity was vexed at the liberal praises bestowed on such a
rival, and he revenged himself by an artifice more ingenious than
scrupulous. He sent an anonymous article to Steele for the _Guardian_.
It is a professed continuation of the previous papers on pastorals, and
is ostensibly intended to remove the appearance of partiality arising
from the omission of Pope's name. In the first paragraphs the design is
sufficiently concealed to mislead an unwary reader into the belief that
Philips is preferred to Pope; but the irony soon becomes transparent,
and Philips's antiquated affectation is contrasted with the polish of
Pope, who is said even to "deviate into downright poetry." Steele, it is
said, was so far mystified as to ask Pope's permission to publish the
criticism. Pope generously permitted, and accordingly Steele printed
what he must soon have discovered to be a shrewd attack upon his old
friend and ally. Some writers have found a difficulty in understanding
how Steele could have so blundered. One might, perhaps, whisper in
confidence to the discreet, that even editors are mortal, and that
Steele was conceivably capable of the enormity of reading papers
carelessly. Philips was furious, and hung up a birch in Button's
Coff