This difference grows, Betwixt our fools in verse, and yours in prose. Poets and painters must appeal to the world at large. Wretched indeed would be their fate, if their merits were to be decided only by their rivals. It is on the general opinion of persons of taste that their individual estimation must ultimately rest, and if the public were excluded from judging, poets might write and painters paint for each other.—Roscoe. The execution of a work and the appreciation of it when executed are separate operations, and all experience has shown that numbers pronounce justly upon literature, architecture, and pictures, though they may not be able to write like Shakespeare, design like Wren, or paint like Reynolds. Taste is acquired by studying good models as well as by emulating them. Pope, perhaps, copied Addison, Tatler, Oct. 19, 1710: "It is ridiculous for any man to criticise on the works of another who has not distinguished himself by his own performances." Many are spoiled by that pedantic throng, Who with great pains teach youth to reason wrong. Tutors, like virtuosos, oft inclined By strange transfusion to improve the mind, Draw off the sense we have, to pour in new; Which yet, with all their skill, they ne'er could do. —Pope. The transfusion spoken of in the fourth verse of this variation is the transfusion of one animal's blood into another.—Wakefield. For fools are doubly fools endeav'ring to be wise. Pope contradicts himself when he says in the text that the men made coxcombs by study were meant by nature but for fools, since they are among his instances of persons upon whom nature had bestowed the "seeds of judgment," and who possessed "good sense" till it was "defaced by false learning." The wretch turned loyal in his own defence. Those hate as rivals all that write; and others But envy wits as eunuchs envy lovers. The inaccuracy of the rhymes excited him to alteration, which occasioned a fresh inconvenience, that of similar rhymes in the next couplet but one.—Wakefield. Dryden's Prologue to the Second Part of the Conquest of Granada: They who write ill, and they who ne'er durst write, Turn critics out of mere revenge and spite. Though such with reason men of sense abhor; Fool against fool is barb'rous civil war. Though MÆvius scribble and the city knight, &c. The city knight was Sir Richard Blackmore, who resided in Cheapside. "In the early part of Blackmore's time," says Johnson, "a citizen was a term of reproach, and his place of abode was a topic to which his adversaries had recourse in the penury of scandal." Who would be poets in Apollo's spite. The omission of "them" after "call" exceeds the bounds of poetic licence. For this a hundred voices I desire To tell thee what an hundred tongues would tire. "I have often thought," says the author of the Supplement to the Profound, speaking of Pope's couplet, "that one pert fellow's tongue might tire a hundred pair of attending ears; but I never conceived that it could communicate any lassitude to the tongues of the bystanders before." The evident meaning of Pope is that it would tire a hundred ordinary tongues to talk as much as one vain wit, but the construction is faulty. Sumite materiam vestris, qui scribitis, Æquam Viribus; et versate diu, quid ferre recusent, Quid valeant humeri.—Wakefield. But when the milder beams of mercy play.— Wakefield. The structure of the passage requires the interpretation put upon it by Warton, in which case the language is incorrect. The statement is not even true of the imagination proper, as the example of Milton would alone suffice to prove. His imagination was grand, and the numberless phrases he adopted from preceding writers evince that it was combined with a memory unusually tenacious. The standard of excellence in any art or science, must always be that which is attained by the persons who follow it with the greatest success; and those who give themselves up to a particular pursuit will, with equal talents, eclipse the rivals who devote to it only fragments of time. For this reason men can rarely attain to the highest skill in more than one department, however many accomplishments they may possess in a minor degree. The native power to shine in various callings may exist, but the practice which can alone make perfect, is wanting. Truth still is one: Truth is divinely bright; No cloudy doubts obscure her native light.— Wakefield. Love reason then, and let whate'er you write Borrow from her its beauty, force, and light. That art is best which most resembles her, Which still presides, yet never does appear. ———one common soul Inspires, and feeds, and animates the whole.—Wakefield. causa latet; vis est notissima.—Wakefield. Duke of Buckingham's Essay on Poetry: A spirit which inspires the work throughout, As that of nature moves the world about; Itself unseen, yet all things by it shown. There are whom heav'n has blest with store of wit, Yet want as much again to manage it. The idea was suggested by a sentence in Sprat's Account of Cowley: "His fancy flowed with great speed, and therefore it was very fortunate to him that his judgment was equal to manage it." Pope gave a false sparkle to his couplet by first using "wit" in one sense and then in another. "Wit to manage wit," says the author of the Supplement to the Profound, "is full as good as one tongue's tiring another. Any one may perceive that the writer meant that judgment should manage wit; but as it stands it is pert." Warburton observes that Pope's later version magnified the contradiction; for he who had already "a profusion of wit," was the last person to need more. Direct us how to back the winged horse, Favour his flight, and moderate his force.—Wakefield. And afar off hold up the glorious prize.—Wakefield. How are these blessings thus dispensed and giv'n? To us from William, and to him from heav'n. Set up themselves, and drove a sep'rate trade.—Wakefield. The entire passage seems to be constructed on some remarks of Dryden in his Dedication to Ovid: "Formerly the critics were quite another species of men. They were defenders of poets, and commentators on their works, to illustrate obscure beauties, to place some passages in a better light, to redeem others from malicious interpretations. Are our auxiliary forces turned our enemies? Are they from our seconds become principals against us?" The truth of Pope's assertion, as to the matter of fact, will not bear a rigorous inquisition, as I believe these critical persecutors of good poets to have been extremely few, both in ancient and modern times.—Wakefield. him who took the doctor's bill, And swallowed it instead of the pill. The story ran that a physician handed a prescription to his patient, saying, "Take this," and the man immediately swallowed it. Keep to each man his proper character; Of countries and of times the humours know; From diff'rent climates diff'ring customs grow. The principle here is general. Pope, in terms and in fact, applied it only to the ancients. Had he extended the precept to modern literature he would have been cured of his delusion that every deviation from the antique type arose from unlettered tastelessness. You may confound, but never criticise, which was an adaptation of a line from Lord Roscommon: You may confound, but never can translate. Zoilus, had these been known, without a name Had died, and Perrault ne'er been damned to fame; The sense of sound antiquity had reigned, And sacred Homer yet been unprophaned. } None e'er had thought his comprehensive mindTo modern customs, modern rules confined; Who for all ages writ, and all mankind. Be his great works, &c.—Pope. Perrault, in his Parallel between the ancients and the moderns, carped at Homer in the same spirit that Zoilus had done of old. vos exemplaria GrÆca Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna. Tate and Brady's version of the first psalm: But makes the perfect law of God His business and delight; Devoutly reads therein by day, And meditates by night.—Wakefield. And upward follow Fame's immortal spring.—Wakefield. Consult your author with himself compared. When first young Maro sung of kings and wars, Ere warning Phoebus touched his trembling ears. Cum canerem reges et prÆlia, Cynthius aurem Vellit. Virg. Ecl. vi. 3. It is a tradition preserved by Servius, that Virgil began with writing a poem of the Alban and Roman affairs, which he found above his years, and descended, first to imitate Theocritus on rural subjects, and afterwards to copy Homer in heroic poetry.—Pope. The second line of the couplet in the note was copied, as Mr. Carruthers points out, from Milton's Lycidas: Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears. The couplet in the text, with the variation of "great Maro" for "young Maro," was Pope's original version, but Dennis having asked whether he intended "to put that figure called a bull upon Virgil" by saying that he designed a work "to outlast immortality," the poet wrote in the margin of his manuscript "alter the seeming inconsistency," which he did, by substituting the lines in the note. In the last edition, he reinstated the "bull." The objection of Dennis was hypercritical. The phrase only expresses the double fact that the city was destroyed, and that its fame was durable. The manuscript supplies another various reading, which avoids both the alleged bull in the text, and the bad rhyme of the couplet in the note: When first his voice the youthful Maro tried, Ere Phoebus touched his ear and checked his pride. And did his work to rules as strict confine.—Pope. "Arms and the Man," then rung the world around, And Rome commenced immortal at the sound As if the Stagyrite o'erlooked each line, how can he avoid the force of his own ridicule, where a little further, in this very piece, he laughs at Dennis for Concluding all were desp'rate sots and fools, Who durst depart from Aristotle's rules.—Dr. Aikin. The argument of Pope is sophistical and inconsistent. It is inconsistent, because if Virgil found Homer and nature the same, his work would not have been confined within stricter rules when he copied Homer than when he copied nature. It is sophistical, because though Homer may be always natural, all nature is not contained in his works. Mean soul, and dar'st not gloriously offend!—Steevens. Her generous style at random oft will part, And by a brave disorder shows her art. And again: A generous Muse, When too much fettered with the rules of art, May from her stricter bounds and limits part.—Wakefield. The criticism of Bowles does not apply to the passage in Sprat's Account of Cowley, from which Pope borrowed his comparison: "He knew that in diverting men's minds there should be the same variety observed as in the prospects of their eyes, where a rock, a precipice, or a rising wave is often more delightful than a smooth even ground, or a calm sea." But care in poetry must still be had; It asks discretion ev'n in running mad: And though, &c. which is the insanire cum ratione taken from Terence by Horace, at Sat. ii. 3, 271.—Wakefield. The boldest strokes of art we may despise, Viewed in false lights with undiscerning eyes. Ut pictura, poesis erit: quÆ, si propiÙs stes, Te capiat magis; et quÆdam, si longiÙs abstes: HÆc amat obscurum; volet hÆc sub luce videri. He was also indebted to the translation of Boileau's Art of Poetry by Dryden and Soame: Each object must be fixed in the due place, And diff'ring parts have corresponding grace. ——Far the greatest part Of what some call neglect is studied art. When Virgil seems to trifle in a line, 'Tis but a warning piece which gives the sign, To wake your fancy and prepare your sight To reach the noble height of some unusual flight.—Warton. Variety and contrast are necessary, and it is impossible all parts should be equally excellent. Yet it would be too much to recommend introducing trivial or dull passages to enhance the merit of those in which the whole effort of genius might be employed.—Bowles. Lord Roscommon was not disposed to be so diffident in those excellent verses of his Essay: For who, without a qualm, hath ever looked On holy garbage, though by Homer cooked? Whose railing heroes, and whose wounded gods, Make some suspect he snores as well as nods.—Wakefield. Pope originally wrote in his manuscript, Nor Homer nods so often as we dream, which was followed by this couplet: In sacred writ where difficulties rise, 'Tis safer far to fear than criticise. Secured by higher pow'rs exalted stands Above the reach of sacrilegious hands.—Wakefield. I like the original verse better— Destructive war, and all-devouring age,— as a metaphor much more perspicuous and specific.—Wakefield. In his epistle to Addison, Pope has "all-devouring age," but the epithet here is more original and striking, and admirably suited to the subject. This shows a nice discrimination. "All-involving" would be as improper in the Essay on Medals as "all-devouring" would be in this place.—Bowles. A couplet in Cooper's Hill suggested the couplet of Pope: Now shalt thou stand, though sword, or time, or fire, Or zeal more fierce than they, thy fall conspire. ——There rival chiefs combine To fill the gen'ral chorus of her reign.—Wakefield. Hail, bard triumphant. Virg. Æn. vi. 649: Magnanimi heroes! nati melioribus annis.—Wakefield. Dryden's Religio Laici: Those giant wits in happier ages born. From Pope's manuscript it appears that he had originally written: Hail, happy heroes, born in better days. In a note he gave the line from Virgil of which his own was a translation. Round the whole earth his dreaded name shall sound And reach to worlds that must not yet be found.—Wakefield. What nature has in bulk to me denied. Fired with the charms fair science does impart. Though "does" is removed, "with what" is less dignified and graceful than "with the charms." The diction of the couplet is prosaic and devoid of elegance.—Wakefield. Nor need we tempt those heights which angels keep.—Wakefield. [Much we begin to doubt and much to fear Our sight less trusting as we see more clear.] So pleased at first the tow'ring Alps to try, Filled with ideas of fair Italy, The traveller beholds with cheerful eyes The less'ning vales, and seems to tread the skies.—Pope. The couplet between brackets is from the manuscript. The next couplet, with a variation in the first line, was transferred to the epistle to Jervas. I will own I am not of this opinion. The simile appears evidently to have been suggested by the following one in the works of Drummond: All as a pilgrim who the Alps doth pass, Or Atlas' temples crowned with winter's glass, The airy Caucasus, the Apennine, Pyrene's cliffs where sun doth never shine, When he some heaps of hills hath overwent, Begins to think on rest, his journey spent, Till mounting some tall mountain he doth find More heights before him than he left behind.—Warton. The simile is undoubtedly appropriate, illustrative, and eminently beautiful, but evidently copied.—Bowles. A frozen style, that neither ebbs or flows, Instead of pleasing makes us gape and doze. So nicely tasteless, so correctly dull.—Wakefield. Nor this part musk, or civet can we call, Or amber, but a rich result of all. Greater than whate'er was, or is, or e'er shall be.—Holt White. Epilogue to Suckling's Goblins: Things that ne'er were, nor are, nor ne'er will be.—Isaac Reed. Verum ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis Offendar maculis. As e'er could D——s of the laws o' th' stage. In all besides let Aristotle sway, But knighthood's sacred, and he must give way. Yet 'tis not to adorn, and gild each part; That shows more cost than art. Jewels at nose and lips but ill appear; Rather than all things wit, let none be there. Dryden's preface to the State of Innocence: "The definition of wit, which has been so often attempted, and ever unsuccessfully, by many poets, is only this, that it is a propriety of thoughts and words." The error was in stating a partial as an universal truth; for the second line of the couplet correctly describes the quality which gives the charm to numberless passages both in prose and verse. Instead of "ne'er so well," the reading of the first edition was "ne'er before," which was not equally true. But Pope followed the passage in Boileau, from which the line in the Essay on Criticism was derived: "Qu'est-ce qu'une pensÉe neuve, brillante, extraordinaire? Ce n'est point, comme se le persuadent les ignorants, une pensÉe que personne n'a jamais eu, ni dÛ avoir. C'est au contraire une pensÉe qui a dÛ venir À tout le monde, et que quelqu'un s'avise le premier d'exprimer. Un bon mot n'est bon mot qu'en ce qu'il dit une chose que chacun pensoit, et qu'il la dit d'une maniÈre vive, fine et nouvelle." Justly to think, and readily express, A full conception, and brought forth with ease. Opus est, ut verba a vetustate repetita neque crebra sint, neque manifesta, quia nil est odiosius affectatione, nec utique ab ultimis repetita temporibus. Oratio cujus summa virtus est perspicuitas, quam sit vitiosa, si egeat interprete? Ergo ut novorum optima erunt maxime vetera, ita veterum maxime nova. Idem.—Pope. Dryden's Dedication to the Assignation: "He is only like Fungoso in the play, who follows the fashion at a distance." Quis populi sermo est? quis enim? nisi carmina molli Nunc demum numero fluere, ut per lÆve severos Effundat junctura ungues: scit tendere versum Non secus ac si oculo rubricam dirigat uno.—Pers., Sat. i.—Pope. Garth in the Dispensary: Harsh words, though pertinent, uncouth appear; None please the fancy who offend the ear. Vowels were said to open on each other when two words came together of which the first ended, and the second commenced with a vowel. Pope has illustrated the fault by crowding three consecutive instances into his verse. The poets diminished the conflict of vowels by a free recourse to elisions. The most usual were the cutting off the "e" in "the," as "th' unlearned," ver. 327; and the "o" in "to," as "t' outlast," ver. 131, "t' examine," ver. 134, "t' admire," ver. 200. The two words were thus fused into one, and the old authors combined them in writing as well as in the pronunciation. The manuscripts of Chaucer have "texcuse," not "t' excuse;" "thapostle," not "th' apostle." The custom has not kept its ground. Whatever might be supposed to be gained in harmony by the conversion of "to examine" into "texamine," or of "the unlearned" into "thunlearned" was more than lost by the departure from the common forms of speech. A collection of monosyllables when it arises from a correspondence of subject is highly meritorious. Let a single example from Milton suffice: O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens and shades of death. How successfully does this range of little words represent to our imaginations, The growing labours of the lengthened way.—Wakefield. "It is pronounced by Dryden," says Johnson, "that a line of monosyllables is almost always harsh. This is evidently true, because our monosyllables commonly begin and end with consonants." As Dryden expressed it, "they are clogged with consonants," and "it seldom," he says, "happens but a monosyllable line turns verse to prose, and even that prose is rugged and inharmonious." The authority of Dryden has led many persons to mistrust their own ears, and imagine, like Johnson and Wakefield, that monosyllables were only fitted at best to produce some special effect. Numerous examples in Dryden's poetry contradict his criticism, and Milton abounds in sweet and sonorous monosyllabic lines, as Par. Lost, v. 193: His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines, With ev'ry plant, in sign of worship wave. And ver. 199: ye birds, That singing up to heaven gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. Melodious lines, such as the first verse in the first of these passages, which have the monosyllables relieved but by a single dissyllable, are past counting up. Addison praised Pope for exemplifying the faults in the language which condemned them. "The gaping of the vowels in the second line, the expletive 'do' in the third line, and the ten monosyllables in the fourth, give such a beauty to this passage, as would have been very much admired in an ancient poet." The feat was too easy to call for much admiration. There was more difficulty in eschewing than in mimicking the vicious style of bad versifiers. Pope himself has not avoided the frequent use of "low words" and "feeble expletives." No tame nor savage beast dwells there; no breeze Shakes the still boughs, or whispers thro' the trees: Here easy streams with pleasing murmurs creep, At once inviting and assisting sleep.—Wakefield. Pope uses these trite ideas and "unvaried chimes" himself. In the fourth Pastoral we have "gentle breeze, trembling trees, whispering breeze, dies upon the trees," and in Eloisa we have "the curling breeze, panting on the trees."—Croker. Pope took the idea from Boileau: Si je louois Philis "en miracles fÉconde," Je trouverois bientÔt, "À nulle autre seconde;" Si je voulois vanter un objet "nonpareil," Je mettrois À l'instant, "plus beau que le soleil;" Enfin, parlant toujours d' "astres" et de "merveilles," De "chefs-d'oeuvres des cieux," de "beautÉs sans pareilles." So glides the trodden serpent on the grass, And long behind his wounded volume trails.—Wakefield. Those tuneful readers of their own dull rhymes. Bowles adds his testimony to "the extraordinary melody and vigour" of the versification of Sandys. Ruffhead, in his life of Pope, having called the Ovid of Sandys an "indifferent translation," Warburton has written on the margin, "He was not an indifferent, but a very fine translator and versifier." The sound is still a comment to the sense.—Warburton. The whole of this passage on the adaptation of the sound to the sense is imitated, and, as may be seen by the references of Warburton, is in part translated, from Vida's Art of Poetry. Tum is lÆta canunt, &c. Vida, Poet. 1. iii. ver. 403.—Warburton. Tum longe sale saxa sonant, &c. Vida, Poet. 1. iii. v. 388.—Warburton. Atque ideo si quid geritur molimine magno, Adde moram et pariter tecum quoque verba laborent Segnia.Vida, ib. 417.—Warburton. At mora si fuerit damno, properare jubebo, &c.Vida, ib. 420.—Warburton. Wakefield says that "the tripping word labours, in ver. 371, is unhappy," and Aaron Hill contended that three at least of the five concluding words of the line "danced away upon the tongue with a tripping and lyrical lightness." Beholds th' alternate billows all and rise.—Wakefield. And now and then, a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow. Dryden.—Wakefield. men of sense retire, The boys abuse, and only fools admire. Aaron Hill says, that Pope was very fond of the line in the text, and often repeated it. Hill, who "abhorred the sentiment," once asked him if he still adhered to the opinion of Longinus, that the true sublime thrilled and transported the reader. On Pope replying in the affirmative, his interrogator pressed him with the contradiction, and the perplexed poet, according to Hill's report, took refuge in nonsense, and made this unintelligible answer,—"that Longinus's remark was truth, but that, like certain truths of more importance, it required assent from faith, without the evidence of demonstration." It must be evident that Shakespeare, Milton, and scores besides, are worthy of admiration; and no man would show his sense by protesting that he did not admire but only approved of them. Pope is inconsistent, for at ver. 236 he speaks of "rapture warming the mind," and of "the generous pleasure to be charmed with wit." And neither gives increase, nor brings decay. And while to thoughts refined they make pretence, Hate all that's common, ev'n to common sense. The rhyming clowns that gladded Shakespear's age, No more with crambo entertain the stage. Who now in anagrams their patron praise, Or sing their mistress in acrostic lays? Ev'n pulpits pleased with merry puns of yore; Now all are banished to th' Hibernian shore! [And thither soon soft op'ra shall repair, Conveyed by Sw——y to his native air. There, languishing awhile, prolong its breath, Till like a swan it sings itself to death.] Thus leaving what was natural and fit, The current folly proved their ready wit: And authors thought their reputation safe, Which lived as long as fools were pleased to laugh.—Pope. The lines between brackets are from the manuscript, and were not printed by Pope. The whole passage was probably written after the poem was first published, since the topics seem to have been suggested by Addison's papers upon false wit in the Spectator of May, 1711, where the anagrams, acrostics, and punning sermons of the reign of James I. are all enumerated. Swiney was the director of the Italian opera, which, at the commencement of 1712, failed to meet with adequate support, and he withdrew, not to Ireland, but to the continent. "He remained there," says Cibber, "twenty years, an exile from his friends and country." To be spoke ill of, may good works befall, But those are bad of which none speak at all. But she returned no more to bless his longing eyes.—Wakefield. Into the melting pot when Dryden comes What horrid stench will rise, what noisome fumes! How will he shrink when all his lewd allay And wicked mixture shall be purged away! When once his boasted heaps are melted down, A chestful scarce will yield one sterling crown. This is exaggerated, but the censure is directed against the indecency which was really infamous. The invectives of Milbourne in his Notes on Dryden's Virgil, 1698, had not the same excuse. The strictures are confined to the translation of the Eclogues and Georgics, and are throughout rabid, insolent, coarse, and contemptible. To demonstrate his own superiority, Milbourne inserted specimens of a rival translation, which is on a par with his criticisms. He was in orders, and acknowledges that one of his reasons for not sparing Dryden was that Dryden never spared a clergyman. "I am only," replied the poet, with exquisite sarcasm, "to ask pardon of good priests, and am afraid his part of the reparation will come to little." Dryden retaliated upon both antagonists together in the couplet, Wouldst thou be soon dispatched, and perish whole? Trust Maurus with thy life, and Milbourne with thy soul. Pope's line in the first edition was New Bl——s and new M——s must arise. In the second edition he substituted S——s, which meant Shadwells, for Bl——s, but in the quarto of 1717 he again coupled Blackmore with Milbourne, and printed both names at full length. Blackmore was living, and the changes indicate Pope's varying feelings towards him. Boileau's Art of Poetry, translated by Soame and Dryden: Let mighty Spenser raise his reverend head, Cowley and Denham start up from the dead. The passage originally stood thus in the manuscript: Wit, as the sun, such pow'rful beams displays, It draws up vapours that obscures its rays, But, like the sun eclipsed, makes only known The shadowing body's grossness, not its own; And all those clouds that did at first invade The rising light, and interposed a shade, When once transpierced with its prevailing ray Reflect its glories, and augment the day. The treach'rous colours in few years decay.—Pope. The next line is from Addison: And all the pleasing landscape fades away. Like some fair flow'r that in the spring does rise.—Pope. This line was an example both of the "feeble expletive" and of the "ten low words." "Supplies" in the amended version is, as Wakefield observes, a poor expression. The dearest care that all my thought employs. The more his trouble as the more admired, Where wanted scorned, and envied where acquired. Against this Pope wrote, "To be altered. See Dennis, p. 20." "How," said Dennis, "can wit be scorned where it is not? The person who wants this wit may indeed be scorned, but such a contempt declares the honour that the contemner has for wit." Pope, in a letter to Caryll, admitted that he had been guilty of a bull, and the reading in the second edition was, 'Tis most our trouble when 'tis most admired, The more we give, the more is still required. Maintained with pains, but forfeited with ease; and in the second edition, The fame with pains we gain, but lose with ease. The original version appears better than the readings which successively replaced it. Learning and wit were friends designed by heav'n; Those arms to guard it, not to wound, were giv'n. Be kind to wit, which but endeavours well, And, where you judge, presumes not to excel. The feelings of antiquity were doubtless represented truly by Horace when he said that indifferent poets were not tolerated by anybody. There is not the least foundation for Pope's statement that it was the habit of old to praise bad authors for endeavouring well, and if it had been, the authors would not have cared for commendations on their abortive industry to the disparagement of their intellect. aspire to gain renown By standing up and pulling others down. Never debase yourself by treach'rous ways Nor by such abject methods seek for praise. Pope's own life is the strongest example upon record of the degradation he deplores. quid non mortalia pectora cogis Auri sacra fames? Geor. i. 37: Nec tibi regnandi veniat tam dira cupido, which Dryden translates, Nor let so dire a thirst of empire move. If his indecorums had been the failing of youth and thoughtlessness, and he had publicly recanted his errors, his self-condemnation would be meritorious. The larger portion of his offences were, on the contrary, committed after he had declared indecency to be unpardonable. Any man, however persistently reprobate, might earn "great praise" on terms like these. 'tis just The author blush, there where the reader must. And duller shoulds't thou be than the fat weed.—Bowles. The cancelled couplet was as follows: Then first the Belgian morals were extolled, We their religion had, and they our gold. This sneer was dictated by the poet's dislike to William III. and the Dutch, for displacing the popish king James II.—Croker. This ingenious and religious author seems to have had two particular antipathies—one to grammatical and verbal criticism, the other to false doctrine and heresy. To the first we may ascribe his treating Bentley, Burman, Kuster, and Wasse with a contempt which recoiled upon himself. To the second we will impute his pious zeal against those divines of king William, whom he supposed to be infected with the infidel, or the socinian, or the latitudinarian spirit, and not so orthodox as himself, and his friends Swift, Bolingbroke, etc. Thus he laid about him, and censured men of whose literary, or of whose theological merits or defects, he was no more a judge than his footman John Searle.—Dr. Jortin. Lurida prÆterea fiunt quÆcunque tuentur Arquati. Besides, whatever jaundice-eyes do view, Looks pale as well as those, and yellow too.—Creech. This notion of the transfusion of the colour to the object from a jaundiced eye, though current in all our authors, is, I believe, a mere vulgar error.—Wakefield. It is still a disputed point whether jaundice ever affects the eye in a degree to permit only the passage of the yellow rays. The instances are at least very rare; but popular belief is a sufficient ground for a poetical comparison. Pope had just exemplified his simile; for everything looked yellow to him in the reign of William III. Speak when you're sure, yet speak with diffidence. Dennis objected that a man when sure should speak "with a modest assurance," and Pope wrote on the margin of the manuscript, "Dennis, p. 21. Alter the inconsistency." Pope's maxim was commended by Franklin. He found that his overbearing, dictatorial manner roused needless opposition, and he resolved never "to use a word that imported a fixed opinion," but he employed instead the qualifying phrases, "I conceive," "I imagine," or "it so appears to me at present." "To this," he says, "after my character of integrity, I think it principally owing that I had early so much weight with my fellow citizens when I proposed new institutions or alterations in the old; for I was but a bad speaker, subject to much hesitation, and yet I generally carried my point." He admits that his humility was feigned. Had it been real there would have been no need for "I conceive," "I imagine," which are implied without a tiresome, superfluous repetition. Unless the dogmatism is in the mind opinions have not the tone of decrees. Pope's acrimonious note on his early antagonist first appeared in the edition of 1743, when Dennis had been some years dead. "His book against me," the poet wrote to Caryll, Nov. 19, 1712, "made me very heartily merry in two minutes' time," and here we find him still smarting with resentment after thirty years and upwards had gone by, and his enemy was in the grave. The original reading in the manuscript of ver. 585 was "But D—— reddens." The substituted name is taken from Dennis's tragedy of "Appius and Virginia," which appeared in 1709. The stare was one of his characteristics. "He starts, stares, and looks round him at every jerk of his person forward," says Sir Richard Steele, when describing his walk. The "tremendous" was not only a sarcasm on his appearance, but on his partiality for the epithet, which was an old topic of ridicule. "If," said Gildon, in 1702, "there is anything of tragedy in the piece, it lies in the word 'tremendous,' for he is so fond of it he had rather use it in every page than slay his beloved Iphigenia." Gay, in 1712, jeeringly dedicated his Mohocks to Mr. D[ennis], and assigned, among the reasons for the selection, that his theme was "horrid and tremendous." And though his face be as ill As theirs, which in old hangings whip Christ, still He strives to look worse.—Wakefield. The privilege is now abolished. But who can rail so long as he can sleep? But t'other day I heard this rhyming fop Say critics were the whips, and he the top: For as a top spins best the more you baste her, So ev'ry lash you give, he writes the faster, The author of the Epilogue was more exact than Pope, whose application of the simile is inaccurate, for the top is in full spin when it is popularly said to be asleep. The dregs and droppings of enervate love.—Steevens. It has been suggested that he alludes to Wycherley.—Warton. Whom else could the lines suit at that period, when Pope says, "Such bards we have?" If Wycherley was intended, what must we think of Pope, who could wound, in this manner, his old friend, for whom he professed so much kindness, and who first introduced him to notice and patronage.—Bowles. The application was too obvious for Pope to have ventured on the lines unless he had designed to expose his former ally. The original reading of ver. 610 in the manuscript was, But if incorrigible bards we view, Know there are mad, &c. And the alteration turned an unappropriated description into a particular censure on living men. Wycherley would be the last person to detect the likeness, and relaxing, some months after the Essay appeared, in his indignation against Pope, "he praised the poem," according to a letter of Cromwell, dated Oct. 26, 1711, but which rests on the authority of Pope alone. The accusation from which he defended Garth was brought against Pope himself. "This poem," says Johnson, of Cooper's Hill, "had such reputation as to excite the common artifice by which envy degrades excellence. A report was spread that the performance was not Denham's own, but that he had bought it of a vicar for forty pounds. The same attempt was made to rob Addison of his Cato and Pope of his Essay on Criticism." The story told was that Wycherley sent the Essay to Pope for his revision, and that Pope published it as his own. Authors are not the only persons who are exposed to such calumnies. The victories of a great general are almost invariably imputed to some subordinate officer, and it was long a favourite theory of the malignant that Napoleon owed his successes to Berthier, and the Duke of Wellington to Sir George Murray. In vain you shrug and sweat and strive to fly: These know no manners but in poetry. They'll stop a hungry chaplain in his grace, To treat of unities of time and place.—Pope. Gardez-vous d'imiter ce rimeur furieux, Qui, de ses vains Écrits, lecteur harmonieux, Aborde en rÉcitant quiconque le salue, Et poursuit de ses vers les passants dans la rue. Il n'est temple si saint, des anges respectÉ, Qui soit contre sa muse un lieu de sÛretÉ. Which lines allude to the impertinence of a French poet called Du Perrier, who finding Boileau one day at church, insisted upon repeating to him an ode during the elevation of the host.—Warton. Boileau tells the incident of an individual poetaster. Pope generalises the exceptional trait, and represents it to have been the usual practice of foppish critics to talk criticism at the altar. The probability is that he had never known an instance. The line "For fools rush in," is certainly fashioned, says Bishop Hurd, on Shakespeare, Richard iii. Act 1, Sc. 3: Wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. Excursusque breves tentant. Nor forage far, but short excursions make. Dryden.—Wakefield. Such did of old poetic laws impart, And what till then was fury turned to art. That bold Columbus of the realms of wit, Whose first discovery's not exceeded yet. Led by the light of the MÆonian star, He steered securely, and discovered far. He, when all nature was subdued before, Like his great pupil, sighed and longed for more; Fancy's wild regions yet unvanquished lay, A boundless empire, and that owned no sway. Poets, &c.—Warburton. Hoist sail, bold writers! search, discover far; You have a compass for a polar star.—Wakefield. Not only nature did his laws obey, But fancy's boundless empire owned his sway. Dennis denied that nature obeyed the laws of Aristotle. "The laws of nature," he said, "are unalterable but by God himself." Pope's language is inaccurate. The longest tyranny that ever swayed Was that wherein our ancestors betrayed Their free-born reason to the Stagyrite, And made his torch their universal light. Had we still paid that homage to a name, Which only God and nature justly claim, The western seas had been our utmost bound, Where poets still might dream the sun was drowned, And all the stars that shine in southern skies Had been admired by none but savage eyes. Each strain a graceful negligence does wear.—Wakefield. He judged with spirit as he sung with fire. He subsequently affixed to the original reading the note, "Not to be altered. Horace judged with coolness as Longinus with fire." Thus make the proper use of each extreme, And write with fury, but correct with phlegm. The construction of the last line is deplorably faulty. "Horace does not suffer more by wits than he suffers by critics" is Pope's meaning, but interpreted by his language, he would be read as asserting that Horace did not suffer more by wrong translations than critics suffered by wrong quotations. These prosaic lines, this spiritless eulogy, are much below the merit of the critic whom they are intended to celebrate.—Warton. A most meagre account of a very excellent and judicious critic. But what can we expect when men overstep the limit of their enquiries, and rush in where learning has not authorised them to tread.—Wakefield. The lines first appeared in the second edition. In a pretended letter to Addison, dated October 10, 1714, Pope speaks of having found a particular remark in one of the treatises of the Greek critic, but he had probably never looked into the original when this couplet was written, and seems to have falsely inferred from chance quotations that the comments upon Homer were the special characteristic of the works of Dionysius. Pope was indebted for the leading phrase in his couplet to a passage of Rochester, quoted by Wakefield: Compare each phrase, examine ev'ry line, Weigh ev'ry word, and ev'ry thought refine. It is to be suspected that Pope had never read Petronius, and mentioned him on the credit of two or three sentences which he had often seen quoted, imagining that where there was so much, there must necessarily be more. Young men, in haste to be renowned, too frequently talk of books which they have scarcely seen.—Johnson. If Pope had been acquainted with the general tenor of the fragments which remain of Petronius, he would not have celebrated the most corrupt and disgusting writer of antiquity for an unalloyed combination of charming qualities. Nor thus alone the curious eye to please, But to be found, when need requires, with ease. The Muses sure Longinus did inspire.—Pope. The taste and sensibility of Longinus were exquisite; but his observations are too general, and his method too loose. The precision of the true philosophical critic is lost in the declamation of the florid rhetorician. Instead of showing for what reason a sentiment or image is sublime, and discovering the secret power by which they affect a reader with pleasure, he is ever intent on producing something sublime himself, and strokes of his own eloquence.—Warton. He, monarch-like, gave those his subjects law; And is that nature, which they paint and draw.—Wakefield. Wakefield calls ver. 680 "ungrammatical," because, literally construed, it reads, "And whose own example is himself, etc." All was believed, but nothing understood.—Pope. Vain wits and critics were no more allowed, When none but saints had licence to be proud.—Pope. Pope told Caryll that he did not speak in this couplet "of learning in general, but of polite learning,—criticism, poetry, etc.—which was the only learning concerned in the subject of the Essay." He at the same time confessed his belief that the learning which the monks possessed "was barely kept alive by them." The explanation would not contribute to conciliate the offended catholics. Oldham in his Satire: On Butler, who can think without just rage, The glory and the scandal of the age.—Wakefield. Pope avowed his conviction to Caryll that the priests had openly accused him of heterodoxy in other passages of his poem, because they were secretly exasperated at his eulogy upon Erasmus. "What in their own opinion," he said, "they are really angry at is that a man whom their tribe oppressed and persecuted should be vindicated after a whole age of obloquy by one of their own people, who is free and bold enough to utter a generous truth in behalf of the dead, whom no man sure will flatter, and few do justice to." Or teach their animated rocks to live. And for the expression in the first half, he quotes Dryden's Religio Laici: Or various atoms, interfering dance, Leaped into form. Wakefield ascribes the origin of the phrase to the fable that the stones of Thebes moved into their places at the music of Amphion, and it is thus used by Waller in his poem upon his Majesty's Repairing of St. Paul's: He like Amphion makes those quarries leap Into fair figures from a confused heap. But Vida was by no means the most celebrated poet that adorned the age of Leo X. His merits seem not to have been particularly attended to in England till Pope had bestowed this commendation upon him, although the Poetics had been correctly published at Oxford by Basil Kennet some time before. They are perhaps the most perfect of his compositions; they are excellently translated by Pitt.—Warton. "Mantua, vÆ miserÆ, nimium vicina CremonÆ." Virg.—Warburton. This application is made in Kennet's edition of Vida.—Warton. To say that the birth-place of Vida would be next in fame to the birth-place of Virgil was to rank him before all the other poets that Italy had produced—before Dante, Petrarch, Tasso, and Ariosto. The antithesis is marred by its want of truth. Boileau is said by Pope to sway in right of Horace because the Frenchman avowed that he based his Art of Poetry on that of the Roman. The English poet has been indebted to both. The Tyber now no courtly Gallus sees, But smiling Thames enjoys his Normanbys; though afterwards omitted, when parties were carried so high in the reign of Queen Anne, as to allow no commendation to an opposite in politics. The duke was all his life a steady adherent to the church of England party, yet an enemy to the extravagant measures of the court in the reign of Charles II. On which account, after having strongly patronized Mr. Dryden, a coolness succeeded between them on that poet's absolute attachment to the court, which carried him some length beyond what the duke could approve of. This nobleman's true character had been very well marked by Mr. Dryden before: The muse's friend, Himself a muse. In Sanadrin's debate True to his prince, but not a slave of state. Abs. and Achit. Our author was more happy; he was honoured very young with his friendship, and it continued till his death in all the circumstances of a familiar esteem.—Pope. The Duke of Buckingham, in his Essay, has followed the method of Boileau, in discoursing on the various species of poetry in their different gradations, to no other purpose than to manifest his own inferiority. His reputation was owing to his rank. In reading his poems one is apt to exclaim with our author, "What woeful stuff this madrigal would be," &c.—Warton. Pope must have been well aware that, amongst all the poetic triflers of the day, there was not one more ripe for the Dunciad. The fact, I fear, is that Pope admired him, in spite of his verses, as a man rich and prosperous.—De Quincey. The couplet in which the duke is mentioned was first inserted in the quarto of 1717, and the note on him in the edition of 1743. In the original manuscript Pope had made the same character serve for him and Lord Roscommon: Such learn'd and modest, not more great than good, With manners gen'rous as his noble blood, E'er saints impatient snatched him to the sky, Roscommon was, and such is Normanby. When Warton wrote, some traditional reputation still lingered round the poems of Roscommon. His feeble platitudes are now forgotten. to her was known Every one's fault or merit but her own.—Cunningham. In the manuscript, the eulogy on Walsh was at first somewhat different: Such late was Walsh—nor can'st thou, Muse, offend, Next these to name the Muse's judge and friend; Who free from envious censure, partial praise, Showed ancient candour in malicious days To frailties mild, &c. The Muse did offend notwithstanding. After speaking of the irritation he excited by his commendations of Erasmus, Pope thus continued in his letter to Caryll of July 19, 1711:—"Others, you know, were as angry that I mentioned Mr. Walsh with honour, who as he never refused to any one of merit of any party the praise due to him, so honestly deserved it from all others of never so different interests or sentiments." The objections seem to have come from the Roman Catholics, and to have been made on religious or political grounds, from which it may be inferred that Walsh was an active opponent of the exiled family. Neither the laudation of Dryden, who said he was "the best critic of our nation," nor the poetical tribute of Pope, could do more than preserve the bare name of an author whose literary qualifications were of the most trivial kind. Dennis, who was acquainted with him, and who admits that he was an indifferent poet, adds that "he was learned, candid and judicious, and a man of a very good understanding in spite of his being a beau." He was a country gentlemen of fortune, and a member of parliament, which were the principal circumstances that conferred lustre upon his small talents in the eyes of the wits. Yet neither praise expect, nor censure fear. The second verse of the couplet seems to be an adaptation of a line in Prior's Henry and Emma: Joyful to live yet not afraid to die. Censeur un peu fÂcheux, mais souvent nÉcessaire; Plus enclin À blÂmer, que savant À bien faire.—Warton. Or Gallus song, so tender and so true, As e'en Lycoris might with pity view.—Wakefield. The subject's humble, but not so the praise, If any muse assists the poet's lays. Dryden's Translation: Slight is the subject, but the praise not small If heav'n assist, and Phoebus hear my call.—Wakefield. All these persons were Roman Catholics. The marriage of Lord Petre to Miss Warmsley took place in March, 1712, and he died the year after in March, 1713, at the age of 22. Miss Fermor married Mr. Perkins, of Ufton Court, near Reading, in 1714. Her husband died in 1736, and she herself in 1738.—Croker. ———tantÆne animis coelestibus irÆ? And dwell such passions in coelestial minds?—Wakefield. It was in the first editions: And dwells such rage in softest bosoms then, And lodge such daring souls in little men?—Pope. The second line of the rejected reading was from Addison's translation of the fourth Georgic: Their little bodies lodge a mighty soul. Pope probably altered the couplet in consequence of an objection of the author of the Supplement to the Profound, who remarked upon the mean effect which resulted from throwing the rhyme upon "then;" "for the rhyme," says Dr. Trapp, "draws out the sound of little and ignoble words, and makes them observed." Sol through white curtains did his beams display, And ope'd those eyes which brighter shine than they: Shock just had giv'n himself the rousing shake, And nymphs prepared their chocolate to take; Thrice the wrought slipper knocked against the ground, And striking watches the tenth hour resound.—Pope. And, as Mr. Croker observes, Pope, in adding them, did not perceive that he introduced an inconsistency. At ver. 14 Belinda is represented as waking, and at ver. 20 we have her still sleeping. The box at the theatre, and the ring in Hyde Park, are frequently mentioned as the two principal places for the public display of beauty and fashion. Thus Lord Dorset, in his lines on Lady Dorchester: Wilt thou still sparkle in the box Or ogle in the ring. And Garth, in the Dispensary, speaking of a deceased young lady, says: How lately did this celebrated thing Blaze in the box, and sparkle in the ring. For after death we sprites have just such natures We had, for all the world, when human creatures.—Steevens. QuÆ gratia currÛm Armorumque fuit vivis, quÆ cura nitentes Pascere equos, eadem sequitur tellure repostos. Virg. Æneid, vi.—Pope. To Dryden's version of which passage our poet was indebted: The love of horses which they had alive, And care of chariots, after death survive.—Wakefield. The realms of ocean and the fields of air.—Wakefield. In Le Comte de Gabalis the salamanders who dwelt in fire, the nymphs who peopled the seas and rivers, the gnomes who filled the earth almost to the centre, and the sylphs who in countless multitudes floated in the air, are said to be formed of the purest portion of the elements they respectively inhabit. But their moral and mental natures are not, as in the Rape of the Lock, the counter-part of their corporeal qualities, and they are a race of beings distinct from man, and not deceased mortals, as with Pope, who was indebted for this circumstance to the account of the fairy train in Dryden's Flower and Leaf: And all those airy shapes you now behold Were human bodies once, and clothed with earthly mould. For spirits when they please Can either sex assume, or both.... ... In what shape they choose, Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, Can execute their aery purposes, And works of love or enmity fulfill. Dryden, Hind and Panther, 3rd part: Immortal pow'rs the term of conscience know, But int'rest is her name with men below.—Holt White. Jam clypeus clypeis, umbone repellitur umbo. Ense minax ensis, pede pes, et cuspide cuspis, &c. Statius.—Warburton. To drive a coach has an exclusive technical meaning, which renders Pope's phrase improper for expressing that the thought of a second coach obliterates from the minds of belles the thought of a previous coach. Up rose the sun, and up rose Emily, everyone feels the matchless charm of the allusion. "The rest, the winds dispersed in empty air;" all after, to the end of this Canto, being additional.—Pope. Look on her face and you forget them all. One hair of thine in fetters ties. Buchanan, Epigram, lib. i. xiv.: Et modo membra pilo vinctus miser abstrahoruno.—Steevens. Dryden's Persius, v. 247: She knows her man, and when you rant and swear, Can draw you to her with a single hair. ———dolus, an virtus, quis in hoste requirat?—Wakefield. Dryden's Translation: Apollo heard, and granting half his pray'r, Shuffled in winds the rest, and tossed in empty air. So Dryden's version of Ceyx & Alcyone, Ovid. Met. x.: This last petition heard of all her pray'r The rest dispersed by winds were lost in air.—Wakefield. the moon was bright And the sea trembled with her silver light.—Holt White. Pope, says Wakefield, has put "tides" in the plural "merely to accommodate the rhyme." The tides are the ebb and the flow, and cannot be applied to only one of the two. And music dying in remoter sounds.—Steevens. Pope's own translation of the commencement of the tenth book has a close resemblance to the lines in the Rape of the Lock: All night the chiefs before their vessels lay, And lost in sleep the labours of the day: All but the king; with various thoughts oppressed His country's cares lay rolling in his breast. ———The fine nets which oft we woven see Of scorched dew. And colours dipped in heav'n; Sky-tinctured grain.—Wakefield. Hover, and catch the shooting stars by night. Dryden's Flower and Leaf: At other times we reign by night alone, And posting through the skies pursue the moon. The angel in Addison's Rosamond, Act 3, says, In hours of peace, unseen, unknown I hover o'er the British throne. Sandys's Translation: Uprose the master of the seven-fold Shield. Then drooped the fading flow'rs, their beauty fled, And rivelled up with heat, lay dying in their bed.—Wakefield. And trembling at the waves which roll below.—Wakefield. In various talk the cheerful hours they passed, Of who was bit, or who capotted last.—Pope. When one party has won all the tricks of cards at picquet, he is said to have capotted his antagonist.—Johnson. Dryden's Æn. vi. 720: While thus in talk the flying hours they pass. Ne'er chuse a screen, and never touch a fan, Till it has sailed from India or Japan. The sun now mounted to the noon of day Began to shoot direct his burning ray. A repulsive and unfounded couplet. Judges never sign sentences, and if a juryman is in haste to dine it is at least as easy to acquit as to condemn.—Croker. And the long labours of your voyage end.—Wakefield. Owing to the change of fashion the particulars in the text no longer serve to mark the time of the day. From Swift's Journal of a Modern Lady, written in 1728, we learn that the fashionable dinner-hour, when "the long labours of the toilet ceased," was four o'clock. Cards were reserved for after tea; but the holiday-makers, who in the Rape of the Lock, go by water to Hampton Court, are represented as playing from the usual dinner-hour till coffee is brought in, which may have been a common arrangement in these pleasure-parties. Sudden the board with cups and spoons is crowned.—Pope. Pope not only borrowed the general conception of representing the game under the guise of a battle, but he has imitated particular passages of his Latin prototype. Vida's poem is a triumph of ingenuity, when the intricacy of chess is considered, and the difficulty of expressing the moves in a dead language. Yet the original is eclipsed by Pope's more consummate copy. The hoary prince in majesty appeared. Just in the gate, and in the jaws of hell.—Wakefield. If either of the antagonists made more tricks than the ombre, the winner took the pool, and the ombre had to replace it for the next game. This was called codille. With groans the Latins rend the vaulted sky, Woods, hills, and valleys to the voice reply. Nescia mens hominum fati sortisque futurÆ; Et servare modum, rebus sublata secundis! Turno tempus erit magno cum optaverit emptum Intactum Pallanta; et cum spolia ista diemque Oderit. Virg.—Warburton. Dryden's Translation, x. 698: O mortals! blind of fate; who never know To bear high fortune, or endure the low! The time shall come, when Turnus, but in vain, Shall wish untouched the trophies of the slain: Shall wish the fatal belt were far away; And curse the dire remembrance of the day.—Wakefield. "There was a side-board of coffee," says Pope, in his letter describing Swift's mode of life at Letcombe in 1714, "which the Dean roasted with his own hands in an engine for that purpose." Nisus had a purple hair on which depended the safety of himself and his kingdom. When the Cretans made war upon him, his daughter Scylla fell in love with their leader Minos, whom she saw from a high tower. Hurried away by her passion, she plucked out her father's hair as he slept, and carried it to Minos, who was victorious in consequence, and Scylla was turned for her crime into a bird. The line of Pope is made up from a passage in Dryden's translation of the first Georgic, where, having applied the epithet "injured" to Nisus, he adds, And thus the purple hair is dearly paid. But when to sin our blessed nature leans The careful devil is still at hand with means. As o'er the fragrant steams she bends her head.—Ver. 134. First he expands the glitt'ring forfex wide T' inclose the lock; then joins it to divide; The meeting points the sacred hair dissever, From the fair head, for ever, and for ever.—Ver. 154. All that is between was added afterwards.—Pope. As, for instance, Dryden's Æn. vi. 950: Then thrice around his neck his arms he threw; And thrice the flitting shadow slipped away. But th' ethereal substance closed Not long divisible. Dum juga montis aper, fluvios dum piscis amabit, Semper honos, nomenque tuum, laudesque manebunt. Virg.— Pope. Mrs. Manley, the author of it, was the daughter of Sir Roger Manley, Governor of Guernsey, and the author of the first volume of the famous Turkish Spy, published from his papers, by Dr. Midgley. She was known and admired by all the wits of the times. She died in the house of Alderman Barber, Swift's friend; and was said to have been the mistress of the alderman.—Warton. Her actions were even more infamous than her writings. One Mary Thompson had been kept by a person named Pheasant, and at his death, in 1705, she endeavoured to pass herself off for his wife, that she might have a right of dower out of his estate. According to Mr. Nichols, in a note to Steele's Letters, Mrs. Manley was bribed by the promise of 100l. a-year for life, to aid Mrs. Thompson in getting a forged entry of the marriage inserted in a register. The case was heard in Doctors' Commons, and Mrs. Manley's guilt was proved. But neither her profligacy nor her frauds could deprive her of the countenance of political partisans like Swift and Prior, or of good-natured men of pleasure like Steele. So long thy honoured name and praise shall last. Dryden, Æn. i. 857: Your honour, name, and praise shall never die!— Wakefield. Quandoquidem data sunt ipsis quoque fata sepulchris.—WAKEFIELD. And laid the labour of the gods in dust.—Wakefield. Thrice should my favourite Greeks his works confound, And hew the shining fabric to the ground.—WAKEFIELD. Ille quoque eversus mons est, &c. Quid faciant crines, cum ferro talia cedant? Catull. de Com. Berenices.—Pope. At regina gravi, &c.—Virg. Æn. iv. 1.—Pope. But anxious cares already seized the queen; She fed within her veins a flame unseen. Dryden's Transl.— Wakefield. Not beauties fret so much if freckles come, Or nose should redden in the drawing-room. While her racked soul repose and peace requires, The fierce Thalestris fans the rising fires. And continued at the 94th verse of this Canto.—Pope. The bat with sooty wings flits through the grove. the unhealthful east That breathes the spleen. Protinus InvidiÆ nigro squallentia tabo Tecta petit. Domus est imis in vallibus antri Abdita, sole carens, non ulli pervia vento. Shut from the winds and from the wholesome skies, In a deep vale the gloomy dungeon lies; Dismal and cold, where not a beam of light Invades the winter, or disturbs the night. Addison's Trans.— Wakefield. Not dying saints enjoy such ecstacies When they in visions antedate their bliss. The ancients believed the spleen to be the seat of mirth, and hence a disordered spleen was supposed to produce melancholy and moroseness. The second sense, in modern usage, has driven out the first, and spleen has become synonymous with surliness and gloom, but Pope in prose as well as verse gave it a wider range, and appears to ascribe to it those creations of the imagination which are mistaken for realities. "Methinks," he writes to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, "I am imitating in my ravings the dreams of splenetic enthusiasts and solitaires, who fall in love with saints and fancy themselves in favour of angels and spirits." In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas Corpora. Of bodies changed to various forms I sing.—Dryden's Trans.—Wakefield. Van Swieten, in his Commentaries on Boerhaave, relates that he knew a man who had studied till he fancied his legs to be of glass. His maid bringing wood to his fire threw it carelessly down. Our sage was terrified for his legs of glass. The girl, out of patience with his megrims, gave him a blow with a log on the parts affected. He started up in a rage, and from that moment recovered the use of his glass legs.—Warton. They're fair, 'tis true, they're cheerful, and they're green, But I, though sad, procure a gladsome mien. The plant has lost the little credit it once possessed as a remedy for hypochondriacal affections. O thou my voice inspire Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire, either "thou" should be "you," or else "touched" should be "touchedst, didst touch." Pope has committed the same error in this speech to the Queen of Spleen; for that "thou," and not "you," is, or ought to be, the pronoun understood follows from the expression "thy power" at ver. 65. Hence "who rule" should be "who rulest," or "who dost rule," and so with the other verbs in the second person. Thy clime is rude, Replete with vapours, and disposes much All hearts to sadness, and none more than mine. Takes a large dram of citron-water. Garth, Dispensary, Canto iii.: The tow'ring Alps shall sooner sink to vales, And leeches in our glasses swell to whales; Or Norwich trade in instruments of steel, And Bromingham in stuffs and druggets deal. This is one instance out of many in which Pope took unwarrantable liberties with private character. Spence had been told that the description "was the very picture of the man." The "nice conduct" of canes is ridiculed by Addison in No. 103 of the Tatler. A man of fashion, with "a cane very curiously clouded, and a blue ribbon to hang it on his wrist," protests that the "knocking it upon his shoe, leaning one leg upon it, or whistling with it on his mouth are such great reliefs to him in conversation that he does not know how to be good company without it." A second beau is warned that his cane must be forfeited if "he walks with it under his arm, brandishes it in the air, or hangs it on a button." But by this scepter solemnly I swear Which never more green leaf or growing branch shall bear. Dryden's Trans.—Wakefield. If yet he lives and draws this vital air. The long contended honours of the field.—Holt White. At ver. 91, Umbriel empties the bag which contains the angry passions over the heads of Thalestris and Belinda. At ver. 142 he breaks the phial of sorrow over Belinda alone, whence Belinda's anger is turned to grief, and Thalestris remains indignant. Felix heu nimium felix! si litora tantum Nunquam DardaniÆ tetigissent nostra carinÆ.—Wakefield. 'Twas this the morning omens did foretell. He altered the verse, together with one or two others of the same kind, to get rid of the "did". Some sprinkled freckles on his face were seen Whose dusk set off the whiteness of his skin. No longer shall thy comely tresses break In flowing ringlets on thy snowy neck.— Wakefield. And in their rulers fate bewail their own. Fata obstant, placidasque viri deus obstruit aures. Fate and great Jove had stopped his gentle tears.—Waller.— Wakefield. Virgil says that the pathetic entreaties to stay sent a thrill of grief through the mighty breast of Æneas, but that his resolution was unshaken. Pope's couplet supposes that he inwardly wavered. The parody first appeared when the Rape of the Lock was inserted in the quarto of 1717. In the previous enlarged editions, which contained the machinery, the sixth verse was followed by what is now verse thirty-seven: To arms, to arms! the bold Thalestris cries. Why boast we, Glaucus! our extended reign, Where Xanthus' streams enrich the Lycian plain; Our num'rous herds that range each fruitful field, And hills where vines their purple harvest yield; Our foaming bowls with gen'rous nectar crowned, Our feasts enhanced with music's sprightly sound; Why on those shores are we with joy surveyed, Admired as heroes, and as gods obeyed; Unless great acts superior merit prove, And vindicate the bounteous pow'rs above? 'Tis ours, the dignity they give, to grace; The first in valour, as the first in place: That while with wond'ring eyes our martial bands Behold our deeds transcending our commands, Such, they may cry, deserve the sov'reign state, Whom those that envy, dare not imitate. Could all our care elude the greedy grave, Which claims no less the fearful than the brave, For lust of fame I should not vainly dare In fighting fields, nor urge thy soul to war. But since, alas! ignoble age must come, Disease, and death's inexorable doom; The life which others pay, let us bestow, And give to fame what we to nature owe; Brave though we fall, and honoured if we live, Or let us glory gain, or glory give.—Warburton. The passage quoted by Warburton is from Pope's own translation of the Episode of Sarpedon, which appeared in Dryden's Miscellany, in 1710. The young men's vision, and the old men's dream.—Wakefield. Why all the tributes land and sea affords?— As gods behold us, and as gods adore.—Wakefield. Nor shall side-boxes watch my restless eyes, And, as they catch the glance in rows arise With humble bows; nor white-gloved beaux approach In crowds behind to guard me to my coach.—Wakefield. In Steele's Theatre, No. 3, January 9, 1720, his "representatives of a British audience" are "three of the fair sex for the front boxes, two gentlemen of wit and pleasure for the side-boxes, and three substantial citizens for the pit." "The virgin ladies," he said, in the Guardian, No. 29, April 14, 1713, "usually dispose themselves in the front of the boxes, the young married women compose the second row, while the rear is generally made up of mothers of long standing, undesigning maids, and contented widows."—Cunningham. ——So spoke—and all the heroes applauded.—Pope. ———ferit Æthera clamor. Their shouting strikes the skies.—Wakefield. ———trebidentque immisse lumine manes. And the ghosts tremble at intruding light.—Wakefield. The concluding line of the paragraph is from Addison's translation of a passage in Silius Italicus: Who pale with fear the rending earth survey And startle at the sudden flash of day. There is more of bathos than of humour from ver. 43 to ver. 52. The exaggeration is carried so far that even the similitude of caricature is lost. Or else like bells, eternally they chime They sigh in simile, and die in rhyme. "Here," said Dennis, speaking of the death of the beau and witling, "we have a real combat, and a metaphorical dying," and he did the lines no injustice when he added that they were but a "miserable pleasantry." Sic ubi fata vocant, udis abjectus in herbis, Ad vada MÆandri concinit albus olor. Ov. Ep.—Pope. The passage in Homer to which the poet refers is where Jupiter, before the conflict between Hector and Achilles, weighs the issue in a pair of scales. A diamond bodkin in each tress, The badges of her nobleness, For every stone, as well as she, Can boast an ancient pedigree. And still burn on, in Cupid's flames, alive. A present deity! they shout around: A present deity! the vaulted roofs rebound.—Steevens. From the catalogue which follows it appears that, by "all things lost on earth," Pope meant only such things as, in his opinion, were hypocritical, foolish, and frivolous. These mounted to the lunar sphere when they had finished their course here below,—a career very short in instances like the "tears of heirs," and, perhaps, very long in instances like the butterflies preserved in the cabinets of collectors. The smiles of courtiers, and the harlot's tears, The tradesman's oaths, and mourning of an heir, Are truths, to what priests tell.—Holt White. their airy shape All but a quick poetic sight escape.—Wakefield. Flammiferumque trahens spatioso limite crinem Stella micat. Ovid.—Pope. Dryden, Æneis, v. 1092: Descends, and draws behind a trail of light.—Wakefield. Dryden's Æneis, v. 691: And as it flew A train of following flames ascending drew; Kindling they mount, and mark the shiny way Across the skies, as falling meteors play. He had been made the subject of ridicule by Swift, Steele, Addison and others.—Croker. Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye. Not so, quoth I: let baser things devise To die in dust, but you shall live by fame: My verse your virtues rare shall eternise, And in the heavens write your glorious name. And Cowley, in his imitation of Horace, Ode iv. 2: He bids him live and grow in fame Among the stars he sticks his name.—Wakefield. And beck'ning woos me, from the fatal tree To pluck a garland for herself or me. What gentle ghost besprent with April dew, Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew? And beck'ning woos me?—Warton. the battle swerved With many an inroad gored. And I, what is my crime, I cannot tell, Unless it be a crime t' have loved too well.—Steevens. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition; By that sin fell the angels. And where imprisoned in so sweet a cage A soul might well be pleased to pass an age. Where their vast court the mother-waters keep, And undisturbed by moons in silence sleep.—Wakefield. Without one virtue to redeem his fame.—Wakefield. But thou dull husband of a wife too fair.—Wakefield. Love-darting eyes or tresses like the morn.—Wakefield. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll. The furies that relentless breast have steeled And cursed thee with a heart that cannot yield. The soul by pure religion taught to glow At others' good, or melt at others' woe.—Wakefield. Nor was I near to close his dying eyes, To wash his wounds, to weep his obsequies.—Wakefield. The cruelties of the lady's relations, the desolation of the family, the being deprived of the rights of sepulture, the circumstance of dying in a country remote from her relations, are all touched with great tenderness and pathos, particularly the four lines from the 51st, "By foreign hands," &c.—Warton. Poor Ariadne! thou must perish here, Breathe out thy soul in strange and hated air, Nor see thy pitying mother shed one tear; Want a kind hand, which thy fixed eyes may close, And thy stiff limbs may decently compose. So Gay in his Dione, Act ii. Sc. 1: What pious care my ghastful lid shall close? What decent hand my frozen limbs compose.—Wakefield. De Quincey assumes that the term "decent limbs" refers to the lady's shape, and he remarks that the language "does not imply much enthusiasm of praise." Pope had perhaps the same idea in his mind as the translator he imitated, and "thy decent limbs were composed" may be put inaccurately for "thy limbs were composed decently." How light would lie the turf upon my breast. A. Philips in his third Pastoral: The flow'ry turf lie light upon thy breast. This thought was common with the ancients.—Wakefield. Of silver wings he took a shining pair Fringed with gold.—Wakefield. The ghost of the injured person appears to excite the poet to revenge her wrongs. He describes her character, execrates the author of her misfortunes, expatiates on the severity of her fate, the rites of sepulture denied her in a foreign land. Then follows, "What though no weeping," &c. Can anything be more naturally pathetic? Yet the critic tells us he can give no quarter to this part of the poem. Well might our poet's last wish be to commit his writings to the candour of a sensible and reflecting judge, rather than to the malice of every short-sighted and malevolent critic.—Warburton. Thus unlamented pass the proud away; and it is to these same relations, whose pride was their vice, that he reverts in the line, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be. The persecutors who have hunted you into the grave, shall one day share your fate. You are the queen all flow'rs among, But die you must, fair maid, ere long, As he, the maker of this song.—Wakefield. And when I say Sebastian, dear Sebastian! I kiss the name I speak.—Steevens. Clear Ankor, on whose silver-sanded shore My soul-shrined saint, my fair idea lies.—Wakefield. Nomenque beatum InjussÆ scripsere manus.—Wakefield. My hapless name with Henry's name I found— Then do I strive to wash it out with tears, But then the same more evident appears.—Holt White. By grots and caverns shagged with horrid shades.—Wakefield. Where feeble tapers shed a gloomy ray And statues pity feign; Where pale-eyed griefs their wasting vigils keep.—Wakefield. A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine for October, 1836, quotes a parallel couplet from a poem by the Duke of Wharton: Where kneeling statues constant vigils keep, And round the tombs the marble cherubs weep. Forget thyself to marble.—Wakefield. Heloisa to Abelard: "O vows! O convent! I have not lost my humanity under your inexorable discipline. You have not made me marble by changing my habit." With the exception of a passage or two quoted by Wakefield, all the extracts in the notes are from Pope's chief text-book, the English work of Hughes, which is very unfaithful to the Latin original. Heav'n claims me all in vain while he has part. A day for ever sad, for ever dear.—Wakefield. For sure that flame is kindled from below Which breeds such sad variety of woe.—Wakefield. Steevens quotes from Dryden's State of Innocence the expression "sad variety of hell," and the writer in the Gentleman's Magazine quotes from Yalden's Force of Jealousy the expression "a large variety of woe." Now warm in love, now with'ring in the grave.—Wakefield. Ambition is the passion, and fame is the object of the passion. To live and die is all we have to do.—Wakefield. Prior's Celia to Damon: And these poor eyes No longer shall their little lustre keep, And only be of use to read and weep. Thus secrets safe to farthest shores may move: By letters foes converse, and learn to love.—Wakefield. In vain I strove to check my growing flame, Or shelter passion under friendship's name. So faultless was the frame, as if the whole Had been an emanation of the soul.—Wakefield. Dryden, Epistle, 14: The fair themselves go mended from thy hand.—Wakefield. And backward trod the paths I sought to shun. And own no laws but those which love ordains.—Wakefield. Heloisa to Abelard: "The bonds of matrimony, however honourable, still bear with them a necessary engagement, and I was very unwilling to be necessitated to love always a man who perhaps would not always love me." Love will not be confined by maisterie: When maisterie comes, the lord of Love anon Flutters his wings, and forthwith is he gone. Chaucer.—Pope. Hudibras, Part iii. Cant. i. 553: Love that's too generous to abide To be against its nature tied, Disdains against its will to stay, But struggles out and flies away.—Wakefield. Dryden's Aurengezebe: 'Tis true of marriage bands I'm weary grown, Love scorns all ties but those that are his own.—Steevens. The passage cited by Pope from Chaucer is in the Franklin's Tale. Spenser copied and altered the lines, which led Wakefield to imagine that Pope had committed the double error of falsely imputing them to Chaucer, and quoting them incorrectly. Happy when both to the same centre move, When kings give liberty, and subjects love.—Cunningham. A dying lover pale and gasping lies.— Wakefield. Like a verse of Drummond's: The grief was common, common were the cries.—Wakefield. Heloisa to Abelard: "You alone expiated the crime common to us both. You only were punished though both of us were guilty." Muly Hamet.—Speak. Empress.—Let my tears and blushes speak the rest. Thy lips all trembling, and thy cheeks all pale.—Wakefield. And drank in poison from her lovely eye. Creech, at the beginning of his Lucretius: Where on thy bosom he supinely lies, And greedily drinks love at both his eyes.—Wakefield. Smith's PhÆdra and Hippolytus, Act i.: Drank gorging in the dear delicious poison.—Steevens. Heloisa to Abelard: "You only are the founder of this house. You by inhabiting here have given fame and sanctity to a place known before only for robbers and murderers." And Paradise was opened in his face. The original of the image in the text is in Isaiah li. 3: He will make her wilderness like Eden, And her desert like the garden of Jehovah. Whence Milton derived it, Par. Reg. i. 7: And Eden raised in the waste wilderness.—Wakefield. LÀ les salons sont peints, les meubles sont dorÉs Des larmes et du sang des pauvres devorÉs. And storied windows richly dight Casting a dim religious light.—Wakefield. His eyes diffused a venerable grace.—Wakefield. And kindling glories brighten all the skies.—Wakefield. My love, my life, And every tender name in one, my wife.—Wakefield. The hollow murmurs of the winds that blow. Nor dropping waters which from rocks distil, And welly grots with tinkling echoes fill.—Wakefield. When the gust hath blown his fill Ending on the rustling leaves.—Wakefield. When western winds on curling waters play. Most upbraid The madness of the visionary maid.—Wakefield. To arched walks of twilight groves.—Wakefield. A death-like quiet, and deep silence fell. Dryden's AstrÆa Redux: A dreadful quiet felt.—Wakefield. Charles Bainbrigg on the death of Edward King: Abyssum Terribilis requies et vasta silentia cingant.—Steevens. With him the caves were cool, the grove was green, But now his absence withers all the scene.—Wakefield. With deeper brown the grove was overspread.—Steevens. Dryden, Æn. vii. 40: The Trojan from the main beheld a wood, Which thick with shades and a brown horror stood.—Wakefield. I know I ought to hate you for the fault; But oh! I cannot do the thing I ought.—Wakefield. Then impotent of mind, with altered sense She hugged th' offender, and forgave th' offence.—Wakefield. Oblitusque meorum, obliviscendus et illis. My friends forgetting, by my friends forgot.—Wakefield. Wakefield gives the complete couplet from Crashaw's Description of a religious House: A hasty portion of prescribed sleep; Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep. Æthereal music did her death prepare, Like joyful sounds of spousals in the air; A radiant light did her crowned temple gild, And all the place with fragrant scents was filled; Of charming notes we heard the last rebounds, And music dying in remoter sounds. As star-light is dissolved away And melts into the brightness of the day. For guilty pleasure gives a double gust. She seems, alone, To wander in her sleep through ways unknown, Guideless and dark; or in a desert plain To seek her subjects, and to seek in vain. No more severely kind affect to put That lovely anger on. Then, with a breath, he gave the winds to blow, And bade the congregated waters flow.—Wakefield. Smooth as the face of waters first appeared, Ere tides began to strive, or winds were heard; Kind as the willing saints, and calmer far Than in their sleeps forgiven hermits are.—Wakefield. Cut from the root my perished joys I see, And love's warm tide for ever stopped in thee. Love in your heart as idly burns As fire in antique Roman urns To warm the dead, and vainly light Those only that see nothing by 't.—Wakefield. The gentle nymph, Drops tears with every bead.—Wakefield. The force of the line is, however, in the phrase "too soft" which Pope has added. "With every bead I drop a tear of tender love instead of a tear of bitter repentance." All the idle pomp, Priests, altars, victims swam before my sight.—Steevens. While prostrate here, &c.—Bowles. "I am a miserable sinner prostrate before my judge, and with my face pressed to the earth I mix my tears and sighs in the dust when the beams of grace and reason enlighten me. Come, see me in this posture and solicit me to love you! Come, if you think fit, and in your holy habit thrust yourself between God and me, and be a wall of separation! Come and force from me those sighs, thoughts, and vows which I owe to him only! Assist the evil spirits and be the instrument of their malice! But rather withdraw yourself and contribute to my salvation." Drive 'em somewhere, as far as pole from pole; Let winds between us rage, and waters roll. Fair hope! our earlier heaven.—Wakefield. And issuing sighs that smoked along the wall.—Wakefield. Addison's translation of a passage from Claudian: Oft in the winds is heard a plaintive sound Of melancholy ghosts that hover round. Here, while by sorrow lulled to sleep I lay, Thus said the guardian nymph, or seemed to say.—Wakefield. Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, Act iv. Sc. 4: Hark! you are called: some say, the Genius so Cries, "Come!" to him that instantly must die. Oft when she visited this lonely dome Strange voices issued from her husband's tomb: She thought she heard him summon her away, Invite her to his grave, and chide her stay. The imitation of the passage in Ovid, Epist. vii. 101, similar to this from Virgil, is still more palpable: Hinc ego me sensi noto quater ore citari: Ipse sono tenui dixit, "Elissa, veni!" Nulla mora est; venio; venio, tibi debita conjux.—Wakefield. But all is there serene in that eternal sleep.—Wakefield. I come ye ghosts.—Wakefield. And to the dead our last sad duties pay. Dryden, Æn. xi. 322: Perform the last sad office to the slain.—Wakefield. I thought before you drew your latest breath, To sooth your passage, and to soften death. Kiss, while I watch thy swimming eye-balls roll, Watch thy last gasp, and catch thy springing soul. Dryden's Virg. Æn. iv. 984: While I in death Lay close my lips to hers, and catch the flying breath. And in his Cleomenes, the end of Act iv.: ———sucking in each other's latest breath.—Wakefield. When e'er it comes, may'st thou be by, Support my sinking frame, and teach me how to die.—Wakefield. And from her cheeks the rosy colour flies. Cause of my new grief, cause of new joy.—Wakefield. Abelard and Heloisa are said to have been both sixty-three when they died. They were buried in the same crypt, but it was not till 1630, or near five hundred years after the death of Heloisa, that their remains were consigned to the same grave. Then their bones are reported to have been put into a double coffin, divided by a partition of lead. They subsequently underwent various disinterments and removals, till in 1817 the alleged relics were transferred to the cemetery of PÈre-Lachaise, at Paris, and have not since been disturbed. I restrained my cries And drunk the tears that trickled from my eyes.—Wakefield. There let the pealing organ blow To the full-voiced choir below. Marlb'rough's exploits appear divinely bright— Raised of themselves their genuine charms they boast, And those who paint them truest, praise them most. This Pope had in his thoughts; but not knowing how to use what was not his own, he spoiled the thought when he had borrowed it. Martial exploits may be painted; perhaps woes may be painted; but they are surely not painted by being well sung: it is not easy to paint in song, or to sing in colours.—Johnson. Johnson's criticism of a poem like this, cannot be compared with his futile declamation against the imagery of the Penseroso. For in speaking of the Penseroso, Johnson spoke of what I do not hesitate to say he did not understand. He had no congenial feelings properly to appreciate the character of such poetry; but the case is different where he brings his great mind to try, by the test of truth, arguments and doctrines which appeal to the understanding. Johnson was not an inadequate judge of Pope's philosophy, though he was certainly so of Milton's poetry. But no composition could possibly stand before his contemptuous declamation.—Bowles. But of this frame, the bearings and the ties, The strong connections, nice dependencies, Gradations just, &c. What appeared a defect to Lord Kames will seem to many persons an advantage. The want of accent softens the rhyme, and relieves the monotonous, cloying effect of a full concord of sound. In most of Pope's imperfect rhymes the similarity of sound is too slight, and the ear is disappointed.
In a letter to Swift, Dec. 19, 1734, Pope says that the couplet was a monitory, and ineffectual hint to Bolingbroke, to give up politics for philosophy. If the censure was directed against the party vices of the man the reproof is inconsistent with the eulogy on his patriotism, Epist. iv. ver. 265, and if against his pursuit in the abstract, it is folly to say that statesmanship is one of the "meaner things" which should be left to "low ambition," and empty "pride." Since life, my friend, can, etc. Learn to live well, that thou may'st die so too: To live and die is all we have to do: the latter of which verses our poet has inserted without alteration in his Prologue to the Satires, ver. 262.—Wakefield. "The whole work" was to have been in four books, and the phrase "this book" means the four published Epistles of the Essay on Man, which were to form the first book of the full design. A mighty maze of walks without a plan. This Pope altered because, says Johnson, "if there was no plan it was vain to describe or to trace the maze." The four published Moral Essays were a portion of the projected second book. This Epistle was never written, but some part of the matter was incorporated into the fourth Book of the Dunciad. Of all that blindly creep the tracts explore, And all the dazzled race that blindly soar. Those who "blindly creep" are the ignorant and indifferent; those who "sightless soar" are the presumptuous, who endeavour to transcend the bounds prescribed to the intellect of man. while he with watchful eye Observes, and shoots their treasons as they fly.—Wakefield. Dryden, Aurengzebe, Act iii.: Youth should watch joys and shoot 'em as they fly. They are the more so as Pope is not content with barely touching the metaphor of shooting en passant, but pursues it with so much minuteness. Let us "beat this ample field,"—"try what the covert yields,"—"eye nature's walks,"—"shoot folly." An illustration, if not at all dignified, or in correspondence with the theme, should not be pursued so minutely that the mind must perforce observe its meanness.—Bowles. Milton, Par. Lost, i. 26: And justify the ways of God to men.—Warton. Through endless worlds His endless works are known, But ours, etc. He who can all the flaming limits pierce, Of worlds on worlds that form one universe. What other habitants in ev'ry star. May tell why heav'n made all things as they are. Pope's assertion in the text that it is impossible for us to "tell why heaven has made us as we are," unless we had a complete insight into the plan of universal creation, contradicts ver. 48, where he says that "it is plain there must be somewhere such a rank as man." Warburton, to evade Voltaire's criticism, put a strained and paraphrastic interpretation upon Pope's lines. Their natural meaning is, that man is too ignorant to comprehend why he is not less instead of greater,—nay, that he cannot even tell why oaks are taller than weeds, why Jupiter's satellites are less than Jupiter, and all his investigations into the earth and the heavens will not supply him with the answer. The theory of a chain of beings was adopted by Bolingbroke and Pope from Archbishop King's Essay on the Origin of Evil. Arguing from the analogy of our own world, King contended that a universe fully peopled with superior natures would leave room for an inferior grade, and these for lower grades still, in a continuously descending scale. There must either be inferior creatures, or else voids in creation, and we may presume that the maximum of existence is most conducive to the ends of benevolence and wisdom. Is but if God has placed his creature wrong. The sentence quoted by Wakefield was copied by Bolingbroke from Leibnitz. Lord Shaftesbury adopted the same hypothesis in his Inquiry concerning Virtue. If, he says, our earth is a part only of some other system, and if what is ill in our system makes for the good of the general system, then there is nothing ill with respect to the whole. Rousseau, who heartily embraced the doctrine, remarks that "we cannot give direct proofs for or against, because these proofs depend on a complete knowledge of the constitution of the universe, and of the ends of its author." How clearly and closely is this sentiment expressed by Pope, and yet how difficult to render into verse with precision and effect.—Bowles. In the first line the phrase "one single," for "one single movement," is especially inelegant. Bowles might have selected many couplets from the Essay on Man more deserving of the commendation. The thought which Pope owed to Bolingbroke, Bolingbroke owed to Leibnitz, who says in his ThÉodicÉe, "Everything in nature is connected, and if a skilful artizan, engineer, architect, statesman, often makes the same contrivance serve for several purposes, we may affirm that God, whose wisdom and power are perfect, does so always." Hence Pope contends that what is defective in man considered separately, may be advantageous in relation to the hidden ends he is intended to serve. We see but here a part, etc. When the proud steed shall know why man now reins His stubborn neck, now drives, etc. Now wears a garland an Egyptian god.—Warburton. A bull was kept at Memphis by the Egyptians, and worshipped, under the name of Apis, as a god. Other oxen were sacrificed to him, which brought the bovine "victims" and the bovine "god" into direct contrast. Lord of a span, and hero of a day, In one short scene to strut and pass away, What then, imports it whether here or there? If to be perfect in a certain state, What matter here or there, or soon or late? And he that's bless'd to-day as fully so, As who began ten thousand years ago. Omitted in the subsequent editions.—Pope. This note appeared, 1735, in vol. 2 of the quarto edition of Pope's Poetical Works. The lines originally followed ver. 98, and when they re-appeared in the text in 1743 they were shifted to their present position. They are especially bad,—elliptical and prosaic in expression, and sophistical in argument. The suffering which matters nothing when it is over is not unimportant while it lasts. A prolonged imprisonment in a noisome dungeon does not cease to be a penalty because the captive will one day be free. The Bible recognises the bitterness of human misery, but teaches that christians are to be reconciled to it on account of the moral purposes it subserves, and the endless felicity which ensues. Pope notes in his MS. that ver. 76 is "reversed from Lucretius on death," and Wakefield quotes the translation of Dryden which Pope copied: The man as much to all intents is dead Who dies to-day, and will as long be so, As he who died a thousand years ago. Ipsi principes Illam osculantur, qu sunt oppressi, manum.—Wakefield. Pope, in the MS., had expanded the idea, and added this couplet: No great, no little; 'tis as much decreed That Virgil's Gnat should die as CÆsar bleed. It is doubtful whether Virgil was the author of the Culex or Gnat, which, says Mr. Long, "is a kind of Bucolic poem in 413 hexameters, often very obscure." Pope's assertion that there is "no great, no little," is contradicted by the passage in St. Matthew to which Warburton refers. Our Lord there assures us that "we are of more value than many sparrows," and the ruin of a world, with its myriad of sentient beings, must be of infinitely greater moment in the sight of the Deity than the bursting of a bubble. Pope repeats, ver. 279, a statement which is repugnant to reason, to revelation, and to his own system of a scale of beings. Systems like atoms into ruin hurled. What bliss above he gives not thee to know, But gives that hope to be thy bliss below. Further opened in Epist. ii. ver. 283. Epist. iii. ver. 74. Epist. iv. ver. 346, etc.—Pope. Seeks God in clouds or on the wings of wind. The savage, that is, being ignorant of scientific laws, supposes the wind and the rain to be produced directly by the Deity without the interposition of secondary causes. Out of the solar walk and heaven's highway.—Hurd. Virtue is in Cicero the title of admission into the milky way, but the version which Manilius gives of the popular creed assumes that the milky way is the general receptacle for earthly celebrities, without any special regard to their morals. From that dire deluge through the wat'ry waste.—Wakefield. MS.: This hope kind nature's flattery has giv'n, Behind his cloud-topp'd hills he builds a heav'n; Some happier world which woods on woods infold, Where never christian pierced for thirst of gold. Pope must have assumed that the Indian's hope of a blissful immortality was an unsubstantial dream, or he would not have called it "nature's flattery." Where gold ne'er grows, and never Spaniards come, Where trees bear maize, and rivers flow with rum. Exiled or chained he lets you understand Death but returns him to his native land; Or firm as martyrs, smiling yields the ghost, Rich of a life that is not to be lost. But does he say the Maker is not good, Till he's exalted to what state he would: Himself alone high heav'n's peculiar care, Alone made happy when he will and where? There is an earlier form of the last couplet: He waits for bliss in a remoter sphere Nor proudly claims it when he will and where. Of nine large dogs, domestic at his board, Fall two, selected to attend their lord.—Wakefield. Pronounce He acts too little or too much. Yet if unhappy think tis He's unjust, which is the reading of the first edition, except that "thou" is substituted for "if." Sir Fulk Greville, "Works, 1633, p. 73: Men would be tyrants, tyrants would be gods."—Hurd. For me young nature decks her vernal bow'r, Suckles each bud, and pencils ev'ry flow'r. His couch a trench, his canopy the skies.—Wakefield. Pope remembered Isaiah lxvi. 1: "Thus saith the Lord, The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool." No sane man could ever pretend that "earth was his footstool," and Pope alone is responsible for the unbecoming misapplication of the prophet's language. or when oceans When earth quick swallows, inundations sweep. Where now the throng That pressed the beach, and hasty to depart, Looked to the sea for safety? They are gone, Gone with the refluent wave into the deep, A prince with half his people. Blame we for this the wise Almighty Cause; No, 'tis replied, he acts by gen'ral laws. The government by general laws, we are told, has "a few exceptions," which must either refer to the scripture miracles, which Pope did not believe when he wrote the Essay on Man, or to the doctrine of a special providence, which he opposes in the fourth epistle. From whence all physical or moral ill? 'Tis nature wand'ring from the eternal will. Pope plainly avows that physical evil is the disobedience of inanimate nature to the Creator, as moral evil arose from the disobedience of man. The couplet, in an altered form, was transferred to Epist. iv. ver. 111, where the context confirms the interpretation which the present version appears to require. Pope is answering the objections to moral evil. The passions for which he has undertaken to account are vicious in kind or in degree—they are the passions which are contrary to "virtue," ver. 166,—the passions of Borgia, Catiline, CÆsar, and Alexander,—and these are not elements essential to human life. In saying that the "general order" had been "kept," Pope did not mean that there were no exceptions, for he held that there had been "some change" since the beginning of things, which was to reject the fanciful principle of Bolingbroke. Infinite wisdom cannot err, but change is not necessarily the reparation of error, and a progressive may be preferable to a stationary system. Bishop Butler, like Crousaz, did not believe that such "fools" existed. "Who," he asked, "ever felt uneasiness upon observing any of the advantages brute creatures have over us?" Pope's authority was The Moralists of Lord Shaftesbury. "Why, says one, was I not made by nature strong as a horse? Why not hardy and robust as this brute creature? or nimble and active as that other?" This is an error. The most powerful race-horses are often the fleetest. So justly all proportioned to each state. Each beast, each insect, happy as it can, Is heav'n unkind to nothing but to man? Shall man, shall reasonable man alone Be or endowed with all, or pleased with none? No self-confounding faculties to share, No senses stronger than his brain can bear. This rejected couplet embodied a fancy from Lord Shaftesbury's Moralists that the leading qualities in any being are always provided at the expense of other organs, and that if man had been endowed with greater and more numerous bodily capacities his brain would have been starved. What the advantage if his finer eyes Study a mite, not comprehend the skies. The second edition has some further variations: Why has not man a microscopic sight? For this plain reason, man is not a mite: Say what th' advantage of so fine an eye? T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the sky. Pope owed the thought, and the expression "microscopic eye" to Locke, Essay on the Human Understanding, bk. ii. chap. 23, sect. 12: "If by the help of microscopical eyes, a man could penetrate into the secret composition of bodies, he would not make any great advantage by the change if he could not see things he was to avoid at a convenient distance." Butler, Hudibras, ii. 1, 617. Her voice, the music of the spheres, So loud, it deafens mortal ears.—Wakefield. It was an ancient fancy that the planets rolled along spheres, emitting music as they went. Pope's supposition that the music would stun us, alludes to the remarks of Cicero, Somnium Scipionis, that the crash of harmony is so tremendous that human ears cannot receive it, just as human eyes cannot gaze at the sun. Warburton remarks that Pope should not have illustrated a philosophical argument by the example of an unreal sound. Through gen'ral life, behold the scale arise Of sensual and of mental faculties! Vast range of sense from man's imperial race To the green myriads, etc. A very little observation would have satisfied Pope that "green" is not the prevailing hue of the "myriads in the peopled grass." Wakefield says that the expression "man's imperial race," in ver. 209, is from Dryden's Virg. Geo. iii. 377, and that the general argument is from Bolingbroke's Fragments: "There is a gradation of sense and intelligence here from animal beings imperceptible to us for their minuteness, without the help of microscopes, and even with them, up to man." This is what Leibnitz called "the law of continuity." "Nature," he said, "never proceeds by leaps." Pope was mistaken in his notion that the lion hunted by ear alone, and that his sense of smell was obtuse. His scenting powers are very acute. The account which Pope gives would not, if it were true, explain why the jackal should have been singled out for the office of lion's provider. The real reason is told by Livingstone. When the lion is devouring his prey, "the jackal comes sniffing about, and sometimes suffers for his temerity by a stroke from the lion's paw laying him dead." The persevering attempt of the lesser animal to share the spoils with the greater, led to the belief that the two worked in concert—that the jackal was the pioneer, and the lion the executioner. There are two other readings of ver. 213 in the MS.: smell the stupid ass Degrees of scent the vulgar brute between. All the versions are deformed by the license of putting the preposition "between" after its noun. And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tender'st touch.—Wakefield. These lines are admirable patterns of forcible diction. The peculiar and discriminating expressiveness of the epithets ought to be particularly regarded. Perhaps we have no image in the language more lively than that of ver. 218. "To live along the line," is equally bold and beautiful. In this part of the epistle the poet seems to have remarkably laboured his style, which abounds in various figures, and is much elevated. Pope has practised the great secret of Virgil's art, which was to discover the very single epithet that precisely suited each occasion. If Pope must yield to other poets in point of fertility of fancy, or harmony of numbers, yet in point of propriety, closeness, and elegance of diction, he can yield to none.—Warton. How instinct varies! What a hog may want Compared with thine, half-reasoning elephant.—Warton. Great wits are sure to madness near allied And thin partitions do their bounds divide. Pope is illustrating his proposition that there must be grades of capacity for animal to be subject to animal, and all animals to man. The application of the couplet to his argument is obscure, and the couplet itself very vague. The "remembrance" closely "allied to reflection" appears to be the effort of attention by which we recall the dormant stores of memory. "Thought" is a dubious term, but seems to be put by Pope for the acts of mind which take their rise in the mind itself, as willing, imagining, reasoning, etc., in contradistinction to seeing, feeling, taste, etc., which are produced by the operation of external things upon the senses. Ethereal essence, spirit, substance, man.—Pope. Has any seen The mighty chain of beings, lessening down From infinite perfection, to the brink Of dreary nothing.—Warton. Kennet's Pascal, p. 166: "He will find himself hanging, in the material scale, between the two vast abysses of infinite and nothing." in nature what it hates, a void; Or leave a gap in the creation void; The scale is broken if a step destroyed. Great nature, break thy chain, that links together The fabric of this globe, and make a chaos. Yet more ev'n systems in gradation roll. And earth self-balanced on her centre hung. The tendency of the earth to move in a straight line is balanced by the attraction of the sun, and Pope supposes this attraction to cease. Planets and suns rush lawless through the sky.—Wakefield. Ruffhead says "there is no reading these lines without being struck with a momentary apprehension." Without quite allowing this, we cannot but feel their great beauty and force. Line rises upon line, with greater effect and nobler imagery, and in the conclusion the poet has touched the idea with propriety, as well as dignity and sublimity. If he had been more particular, the passage would have been unworthy the grandeur of the subject; had he been less it would have been obscure. He has at once evinced judgment and poetry. If there be a word or two not quite suitable, perhaps it is "run," and "foundations nod." I could have wished such a word as "rushed lawless," or "flamed lawless through the sky."—Bowles. The worker from the work distinct was known. He's all in all: his wisdom, goodness, pow'r, Spring in each blade, and bloom in ev'ry flow'r; } Glide in the stream, and murmur in the rill: All nature moves obedient to his will. Dryden, in the State of Innocence, Act v., was probably also in our poet's recollection: Where'er thou art, he is: th' eternal mind Acts through all places, is to none confined; Fills ocean, earth, and air, and all above, And through the universal mass does move.—Wakefield. As the rapt Seraphim that sings and burns. The name Seraphim, says Warburton, signifies burners, and Wakefield quotes, in illustration, from Spenser's Hymn of Heavenly Beauty, stanza 14: And those eternal burning Seraphims Which from their faces dart out fiery light. The concluding lines appear to be a false jingle of words which neutralise the whole of Pope's argument. If there is to Providence "no high, no low, no great, no small," the gradation of beings is a delusion. What things are in the sight of God, that they are in reality, and since no one thing in creation is superior or inferior to any other thing, Pope's language throughout this epistle is unmeaning. The final phrase of the couplet is bathos. God is not only the "equal" of "all" his works, he is immeasurably beyond them. Cease then, nor order imperfection call On which depends the happiness of all. Reason, to think of God when she pretends, Begins a censor, an adorer ends. See and confess, this just, this kind degree Of blindness, etc. In the same hand, the same all-plastic pow'r. Sir T. Browne, Relig. Med. Part i. 16: "In brief all things are artificial; for nature is the art of God." And spite of pride, and in thy reason's spite. Pope afterwards, says Johnson, discovered, or was shown, that the "truth" which subsisted "in spite of reason" could not be very "clear." Learn we ourselves, not God presume to scan, But know the study, etc. The only science of mankind is man. Ed. 2.: The proper study, etc.—Pope. "The true science and true study of man is man," says Charron in his treatise on Wisdom; and Pascal, in his thoughts translated by Dr. Kennet, 1727, p. 248, says, "The study of man is the proper employment and exercise of mankind." But Pascal is maintaining that man should study himself in preference to mathematics, and not to the exclusion of God, which is a doctrine that would have filled him with horror. Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up betwixt two eternities.—Warton. To deem himself a part of God or beast. Kennet's Pascal, p. 30, furnished the hint for the line: "What, then, is to be the fate of man? Shall he be equal to God, or shall he not be superior to the beasts?" For more perfection than this state can bear In vain we sigh; heav'n made us as we are. [If gods we must because we would be, then Pray hard ye monkies, and ye may be men.] As wisely sure a modest ape might aim To be like man, whose faculties and frame He sees, he feels, as you or I to be An angel thing we neither know nor see. Observe how near he edges on our race; What human tricks! how risible of face! "It must be so—why else have I the sense Of more than monkey charms and excellence? Why else to walk on two so oft essayed? And why this ardent longing for a maid?" So Pug might plead, and call his gods unkind, Till set on end, and married to his mind. Go, reas'ning thing! assume the Doctor's chair, As Plato deep, as Seneca severe: Fix moral fitness, and to God give rule, Then drop, etc.—Warburton. The couplet between brackets was omitted by Warburton. There is still another reading in the MS. of the couplet, "Observe how near," etc. Observe his love of tricks, his laughing face; An elder brother, too, to human race. Go, reas'ning man, go mount, etc. Instruct erratic planets where to run. Show by what rules the wand'ring planets stray, Correct old Time, and teach the sun his way.—Pope. "Go, teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule," exclaims Pope, ver. 29, and Warburton correctly remarks that the sarcastic summary is "a conclusion from all that had been said before from ver. 18 to this effect." The illustrations which go before should consequently be examples of the wild attempts to show how the world might have been better contrived, and Pope points to such schemes when he says, "Instruct the planets in what orbs to run." But he has perplexed his meaning by improperly mixing up with instances of ignorant presumption, those real discoveries in science, which are the result of a patient investigation of God's works, and have no connection with the pretence of "teaching Eternal Wisdom how to rule." And proudly rave of imitating God. Bolingbroke, Fragment 2: "I dare not use theological familiarity and talk of imitating God." Frag. 4: "I hold it to be worse than absurd to assert that man can imitate God." The Platonists taught that if we would know and imitate God we must withdraw the mind from the things of sense, and contemplate the spiritual and the perfect. Pope's object was to ridicule those who thought that the perfections of the Deity were to be the model for the imperfect efforts of man. The notion, he says, is not less preposterous than the Eastern absurdity of twisting in a circle to imitate the apparent revolution of the sun. So Eastern madmen in a circle run. Pope referred to the sacred dance of the Mahometan monks. "They turn on their left foot," says Thevenot, "like a wind-mill driven by a strong wind," and Lady Mary W. Montagu, who witnessed the ceremony, states that they whirled round with an amazing swiftness for above an hour without any of them showing the least appearance of giddiness, which, she adds, is not to be wondered at when it is considered they are all used to it from their infancy. Of moral fitness fix th' unerring rule. Angels themselves, I grant it, when they saw One mighty man, etc. Admired an angel in a human shape. Simia coelicolum, risusque jocusque deorum est Tunc homo, cum temerÈ ingenio confidit, et audet Abdita naturÆ scrutari, arcanaque divum.—Warton. This image gives an air of burlesque to the passage, notwithstanding all that can be said. It is degrading to the subject, to the idea of the "superior beings," and to the character on whom it is meant as a panegyric.—Bowles. The author of a Letter to Mr. Pope, 1735, says that the lines on Newton had been "generally admired and repeated." From this praise he justly dissents. Either the angels could not have "admired" Newton in the proper sense of the word, or they could not have "shown him as we show an ape," when he would have appeared a grotesque and ludicrous object. The idea is altogether a poor conceit, and was not worth borrowing. In the MS. an additional couplet followed ver. 34: Ah, turn the glass! it shows thee all along As weak in conduct, as in science strong. Could he who taught each planet where to roll, Describe or fix one movement of the soul? Who marked their points to rise or to descend, Explain his own beginning or his end?—Pope. Who saw the stars here rise, and here descend?—Pope. Or more of God, or more of man can find, Than this that one is good, and one is blind? There is a kindred antithesis in the last verse of the Epistle, but the exaggeration of the statement is less strongly marked. Unchecked may mount thy intellectual part From whim to whim,—at best from art to art. Joins truth to truth, or mounts There mounts unchecked, and soars from art to art. Two different principles our nature move; One spurs, one reins; this reason, that self-love. Cicero's Offices, i. 28: "The powers of the mind are twofold; one consists in appetite, by the Greeks called ??? (impulse), which hurries man hither and thither; the other in reason, which teaches and explains what we are to do, and what we are to avoid." Of good and evil gods what frighted fools, Of good and evil, reason puzzled schools, Deceived, deceiving taught, to these refer; Know both must operate, or both must err.—Warburton. Self-love the spring of action lends the force; Reason's comparing balance states the course: The primal impulse, and controlling weight To give the motion, and to regulate. Bolingbroke, Fragment 3, says that "appetite and passion are the spring of human nature; reason the balance to control and regulate it." The image is borrowed from the works of the watch, where the spring is the moving power, and the balance regulates the motion. Self-love yet stronger as its objects near; Reason's diminished as remote appear. "The sensual man," says Crousaz in illustration of the principle, "indulges in the pleasures of a luxurious table regardless of the diseases that may be the consequence of his gluttony, but the reasoner prefers a lasting tranquillity to transient enjoyment." Let metaphysics common reason split. Too nice distinctions honest sense will shun, Know pleasure, good, and happiness are one. Both fly from pain, to pleasure both aspire, With one aversion, and with one desire. Pope charges the schoolmen with being at war about a name when they distinguished between "sense" and "reason," and the distinction is a capital article in his own moral creed. He charges them with maintaining that sense and reason were not merely separate, but contending powers, and he too has insisted on the universality of the strife. "Sense," or, in his language, "self-love," "looks," ver. 73, to "immediate," "reason" to "future good," and in this difference of view the "temptations" of self-love "throng thicker than the arguments" of reason. The contest is the subject of a long disquisition further on, and Pope laments, ver. 149-160, that passion should conquer in the fight. When he interjected the paragraph, in which he contradicted himself, he rested his case on the proposition that reason, which pursues interest well-understood, and self-love, which gratifies present passion, "aspire to one end,—pleasure." But the pleasure sought by reason and self-love respectively is not the same pleasure, and so incompatible were the two pleasures in his estimation that he calls one, ver. 92, "our greatest evil," the other "our greatest good." Reason itself more nicely shares in all. Passions whose ends are honest, means are fair. For "court" Pope had at first written "boast." Honour is ever the reward of pain: A lazy virtue no applause will gain.—Wakefield. Virtue dispassioned naked meets the fight, Comes without arms, and conquers but by flight. Passions like tempests put in act the soul. On life's wide ocean diversely launched out, Our minds alike are tossed on waves of doubt, Holding no steady course, or constant sail, But shift and tack with ev'ry veering gale.—Wakefield. A troop of deities came down to guide Our steerless barks in passion's swelling tide, By virtue's card.—Wakefield. After ver. 108 in the MS.: A tedious voyage! where how useless lies The compass, if no pow'rful gusts arise!—Warburton. Dryden's Ceyx and Alcyone: And now sublime she rides upon the wind.—Warton. Pope held that "fierce ambition" was instigated by the Almighty, Epist. i. ver. 159, and compared his inspiration of such tumultuous passions to his "heaving old ocean, and winging the storm." The poet must be understood as upholding the same extended and licentious doctrine when he returns to the comparison, and talks of "God mounting the storm" of the passions, and "walking upon the wind." The soft, reward the virtuous or invite; The fierce, the vicious punish or affright.—Warburton. With all the num'rous family of death. Garth, Dispensary, vi. 138: And all the faded family of care.—Wakefield. To blend them well, and harmonise their strife Makes all etc. Present to seize, or future to obtain The whole employ of body and of brain. On stronger senses stronger passions strike. Hence passions rise, and more or less inflame, Proportioned to each organ of the frame, Nor here internal faculties control, Nor soul on body acts, but that on soul. Pope derived the notion from Mandeville, who says that the diversity of passions in different men "depend only upon the different frame,—the inward formation of either the solids or the fluids." According to Pope the strongest organ gives rise to some passion of corresponding strength, which finally absorbs all other passions. Pope refers to Moral Essays, Epist. 1. Of the Knowledge and Characters of Men. One, with cruel art, Makes Colon suffer for the peccant part.—Wakefield. This comparison, which might be very proper in philosophy, has a mean effect in poetry.—Bowles. In the MS. this couplet is added: Its own best forces lead the mind astray, Just as with Teague his own legs ran away. Two lines, which do not appear in the subsequent editions, were inserted after ver. 148 in the quarto of 1735: The ruling passion, be it what it will, The ruling passion conquers reason still. And we who vainly boast her rightful sway In our weak etc. Can reason more etc. The plague, we know, drives all diseases out.—Wakefield. Ruffhead and Bowles unite in condemning the colloquial familiarity of Pope's simile. The "succeeding book" is the Moral Essays, which are almost entirely made up of satiric sketches. Pope dilated upon the evil resulting from "the mind's disease, the ruling passion," but barely touched upon "the general good." Th' Eternal Art that mingles good with ill. Hypocrisy at last should enter in, And fix this floating mercury of sin.—Wakefield. The noblest fruits the planter's hope may mock, Which thrive inserted on the savage stock. As dulcet pippins from the crabtree come, As sloes' rough juices melt into a plum. Vain-glory, courage, justice can supply. Envy, in critics and old maids the devil, Is emulation in the learn'd and civil. "Emulation," says Bishop Butler, "is merely the desire of equality with, or superiority over others, with whom we compare ourselves. To desire the attainment of this equality, or superiority, by the particular means of others being brought down to our level, or below it, is, I think, the distinct notion of envy." A man who was made up of rivalry, which is Pope's supposition, would be an odious character, even without the additional taint of envy, from which, nevertheless, he could hardly be free. How oft with passion, virtue points her charms! Then shines the hero, then the patriot warms. Peleus' great son, or Brutus who had known Had Lucrece been a whore, or Helen none? But virtues opposite to make agree, That, reason, is thy task, and worthy thee. Hard task, cries Bibulus, and reason weak, "Make it a point, dear Marquess, or a pique. Once for a whim, persuade yourself to pay A debt to reason, like a debt at play. For right or wrong have mortals suffered more? B[lount] for his prince, or B** for his whore? Whose self-denials nature most control? His who would save a sixpence, or his soul. Web for his health, a Chartreux for his sin, Contend they not which soonest shall grow thin? What we resolve we can: but here's the fault, We ne'er resolve to do the thing we ought."—Warburton. There is another version of the last couplet but one in the MS.: Which will become more exemplary thin, W[eb] for his health, De RancÉ for his sin? Web may have been the General Webb who got considerable reputation for his defeat of the French at Wynendale in 1708. Swift in his Journal to Stella, April 19, 1711, speaks of him as "going with a crutch and a stick." RancÉ was born at Paris in 1626, and died in 1700. In 1662 he assumed the government of the monastery of La Trappe, and was noted for the austerities he imposed and practised. Mr. Croker thinks that "B." who "suffered for his prince" was Edward Blount, the Roman Catholic Devonshire squire. He went into voluntary exile after the rebellion of 1715, but did not remain abroad many years. Thus every ruling passion of the mind Stands to some virtue and some vice inclined. Check but its force or compass short of ill. Turn but the bias from the side of ill. And either makes a patriot or a knave. Divide, before the genius of the mind. or, 'Tis reason's task to sep'rate in the mind. The idea expressed in the couplet is an adaptation of a passage in the first chapter of Genesis. As God in the chaos of the world "divided the light from the darkness," so the God within us, which is our reason, does the same with the chaos of the mind. The chaos, on Pope's system, was in the actions, and not in the motives. The sweet water and the bitter flowed from the same tainted fountain,—from ambition, pride, sloth, etc. Extremes in man concur to gen'ral use. Pope's meaning seems to be that in all terrestrial things, except man, extremes or contraries produce opposite and uncompounded effects. In man, extremes, in the shape of virtue and vice, join and mix together. There is no force in the distinction. Hot water, for instance, mixes with cold, and a mean temperature is the result. To strangle in its birth each rising crime Requires but little,—just to think in time. In ev'ry vice, at first, in some degree We see some virtue, or we think we see. Our vices thus are virtues in disguise, Wicked but by degrees, or by surprise. Of the last couplet there is a second version: Thus spite of all the Frenchman's witty lies Most vices are but virtues in disguise. The witty Frenchman was La Rochefoucauld. Pope's counter-maxim is only a form of La Rochefoucald's principle, converted into an apparent contradiction by an equivocal use of the phrase "virtues in disguise." Those who pursue vicious objects are reluctant to allow that they are the slaves of vice. "Hence," says Hutcheson, in a passage quoted by Warton, "the basest actions are dressed in some tolerable mask. What others call avarice, appears to the agent a prudent care of a family or friends; fraud, artful conduct; malice and revenge, a just sense of honour; fire and sword and desolation among enemies, a just defence of our country; persecution, a zeal for truth." Pope assumes that the vice is inspired by genuine virtue, whereas the virtue is a pretence, a flimsy pretext to excuse wrong-doing. The vice is real, the virtue fictitious, and this is the principle of La Rochefoucauld. For truth has such a face and such a mien, As to be loved needs only to be seen.—Wakefield. The lines from ver. 217 to 221 are thus varied in the MS.: Vice all abhor, the monster is too foul; Naked, indeed, she shocks us to the soul; But dressed too well, with tempting time and place, That but to pity her is to embrace. Where art thou, Vice? 'twas never yet agreed, etc. A cheat, a whore, who starts not at the name, In all the Inns of Court, or Drury Lane? These two omitted in the subsequent editions.—Pope. The dishonest lawyer, and woman of the town, applied soft names to their vices, and were startled to be called by their proper appellations. The couplet was followed in the MS. by some further illustrations:— B[lun]t but does K—— brings matters on; Rogues but do business; spies but serve the crown; Sid has the secret, Chartres H[e]r[ve]y the court, and Huggins knows the town; Kind-hearted Peter helps the rich in want, Nero's a wag, and Messaline gallant. The last couplet assumed a second form: Nero's a wag, Faustina some suspect Of gallantry, and Sutton of neglect. Sutton, Peter Walter, Hervey, Huggins, Chartres, and Blunt will reappear in connection with the offences for which they are satirised here. Sid was Lord Godophin, who was lampooned under the name of Sid Hamet by Swift. Pope, in his Moral Essays, Epist. 1, ver. 86, speaks of his Newmarket fame, and judgment in a bet; and the phrase, "Sid has the secret" is an insinuation that his "judgment in a bet" sometimes arose from his being privy to the tricks of the turf. The Col'nel swears the agent is a dog; The scriv'ner vows th' attorney is a rogue; Against the thief th' attorney loud inveighs, For whose ten pound the county twenty pays; The thief damns judges, and the knaves of state, And dying mourns small villains hanged by great.—Warburton. The agent of whom the Colonel complained was the army agent. The scrivener, who drew contracts, and invested money, hated the attorneys because they were in part competitors for the same class of business. Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, says, that Mr. Ellis, who died in 1791, aged 93, was the last of the scriveners. Their occupation had gradually lapsed to other professions, legal or monetary. Pope's remaining instances are forced. The attorney did not pay more than his neighbours to the county expenditure for prosecuting thieves, and as the trials were much to his own profit, he was the last person who had an interest in inveighing against thievery. As little did the thief at his execution denounce "the knaves of state," of whom he commonly knew nothing. Pope has put the satire of the Beggar's Opera into the mouth of the veritable pick-pockets and highwaymen. Ev'n those who dwell in Vice's very zone. Some virtue in a lawyer has been known, Nay in a minister, or on a throne. MS.: That draws a virtue out of ev'ry vice. Or, And public good extracts from private vice. The last version is taken from the title of Mandeville's work, "The Fable of the Bees, or Private Vices, Public Benefits." Johnson's interpretation of the text does not agree with Pope's assertion, that "imperfections are usefully distributed to all orders of men." Each frailty wisely to each rank applied. The line is disfigured by the clumsy transition from the present tense to the past for the sake of the rhyme, which is a trifle in comparison with the doctrine that "heaven applies happy frailties to all ranks." If the "frailties" specified by Pope are "happy," fear must be a recommendation in a statesman, rashness in a general, presumption in a king, and a credulous faith in the presumption the best condition for the people. What partly pleases, totally will shock; Nor Ross would be Argyle, nor Toland I question much if Toland would be Locke. The Duke of Argyle and General Ross were both soldiers, both politicians, and both Scotchmen. Ross was a member of the House of Commons. Toland introduced metaphysics into his infidel works, and Pope signifies by his couplet that the inferior in a particular department would not desire on the whole to change characters with a superior in the same department. The learn'd are blessed such wonders to explore. The chemist's happy in his golden views, Payn in his madness, Welsted in his muse. MS.: With ev'ry age of man new passions rise, Hope travels through nor quits him when he dies. Children at toys as men at titles aim, And in effect both covet but the same, This Philip's son proved in revolving years, And first for rattles, then for worlds shed tears. At last he sleeps, and all the care is o'er. Observant then, how from defects of mind Spring half the bliss, or rest of humankind! How pride rebuilds what reason can destroy, &c. Of certainty by faith, of sense by pride. These still repair what wisdom would destroy. Through life's long dream new prospects entertain. Life's prospects alter ev'ry step we gain, And Nature gives no vanity in vain. Confess one comfort ever will arise. Learn, Dulness, learn! "The Universal Cause," etc.—Warburton. Must act by gen'ral not by partial laws. Look nature through, and see the chain of love. See lifeless matter moving to one end.—Pope. "Plastic," or as Bolingbroke called it, "fashioning nature," was in its etymological and popular sense, the power in nature which gave things their shape or figure. This seems to be the meaning in Pope. The philosophic sense of the phrase was more extensive. The laws of matter may have been made self-acting, or they may be maintained by the direct and constant interposition of God. Cudworth, and some other writers, who held the first of these opinions, called "plastic nature" the inward energy, the operative principle which is as a sort of life to the laws. The "plastic nature" of Cudworth is, in reality, nothing more than the laws of matter, with the proviso that they work by an inherent virtue infused into them by the Creator once for all. Press to one centre of commutual good. As the inorganic, or lifeless matter, of which he had previously spoken, gravitates to a centre, so the "matter" which is "endued with life" also "presses" to a "centre"—"the general good." The comparison of the general good to the centre of gravity is inaccurate. The centre of gravity is a point; the general good is diffused good. More pow'rful each as needful to the rest, Each in proportion as he blesses blessed. Who winged the winds, and gave the streams to flow, And raised the rocks, and spread the lawns below.—Wakefield. MS.: Think'st thou for thee he feeds the wanton fawn And not as kindly spreads for him the lawn? Think'st thou for thee the sky-lark mounts and sings? Know, Nature's children with one care are nursed; What warms a monarch, warmed an ermine first. What care to tend, to lodge, to cram, to treat him! All this he knew; but not that 'twas to eat him, As far as goose could judge he reasoned right; But as to man, mistook the matter quite.—Warburton. Cowley, in his Plagues of Egypt, stanza 1: All creatures the Creator said were thine: No creature but might since say, "Man is mine." Gay, Fable 49: The snail looks round on flow'r and tree, And cries, "All these were made for me."—Wakefield. The goose is taken from Peter Charron; but such a familiar and burlesque image is improperly introduced among such solid and serious reflections.—Warton. Pope copied Charron's predecessor, Montaigne, Book ii. Chap. 12: "For why may not a goose say thus, 'The earth serves me to walk upon, the sun to light me. I am the darling of nature. Is it not man that keeps, lodges, and serves me? It is for me that he both sows and grinds.'" "The pampered goose," says Southey, "must have been forgetful of plucking time, as well as ignorant of the rites that are celebrated in all old-fashioned families on St. Michael's Day." The goose's ignorance of his future fate was part of Pope's argument, and he contended that the men who exclaimed, "See all things for my use," were equally blind to the purposes for which they were destined. The illustration is poor both poetically and philosophically. 'Tis true the strong the weaker still control, And pow'rful man is master of the whole: Him therefore nature checks; he only knows, etc. Turns he his ear when Philomela sings? Admires her eye the insect's gilded wings? The superior mercy with which Pope accredits men is of an unreflecting description, since he implies that it is regulated by gaiety of colour, and sweetness of song, and not by the capacities of creatures for pleasure and pain. The claim itself is unfounded under the circumstances of his comparison. The falcon and the jay must eat their natural prey or starve, and when hunger or gratification solicits him, man never hesitates to kill the animals which are needful for his support or delicious to his palate. If he had a taste for "insects with gilded wings," the gilding on their wings would not restrain him. Martial, Lib. xiii. Ep. 70, says of the peacock, "You admire him every time he displays his jewelled wings, and can you, hard-hearted man, deliver him to the cruel cook?" and Pope in his celebrated lines on the pheasant had commemorated the impotence of brilliant plumage to touch the compassion of the sportsman. The poet, in this Epistle, forgot that in Epist. i. ver. 117, he had accused man of "destroying all creatures for his sport or gust," which is to place him below the animals. He is undoubtedly without an equal in his destructive propensities, and too often abuses his power over the sentient world. Wherever fountain or fresh current flowed Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure With touch ethereal of heav'n's fiery rod, I drank.—Wakefield. Plutarch mentions that persons struck with lightning were held in honour, which did not accord with the concurrent belief that lightning was the instrument of Jove's vengeance. Superstitions often clash. While man with op'ning views of various ways Confounded, by the aid of knowledge strays: Too weak to choose, yet choosing still in haste, One moment gives the pleasure and distaste.—Warburton. One in their act to think and to pursue, Sure to will right, and what they will to do. Pope's meaning is, that there is no conflict in animals, as in man, between passion and reason, between desire and judgment, that there is not in the operations of animals, as in man's contrivances, a studied adaptation of means to ends, nor a balancing of method against method, and of end against end, but that animals are endowed with singleness of purpose, know instinctively what to do, and how to do it. Reason prefer to instinct if you can. The cramp-fish, remora what secret charm To stop the bark, arrest the distant arm? The cramp-fish is the torpedo. "She has the quality," says Montaigne, "not only to benumb all the members that touch her, but even through the nets transmits a heavy dullness into the hands of those that move them; nay, it is further said, that if one pour water upon her, he will feel this numbness mount up the water to the hand, and stupify the feeling through the water." The remora, or sucking-fish, sticks by the disc on the top of its head, to ships and other fishes, and "renders immoveable," says Pliny, "the vessels which no chain could stay, no weighty anchor moor." The mighty prowess ascribed to the remora is imaginary, and the electrical capacity of the torpedo greatly exaggerated. The story of halcyon, cramp-fish, and remora are all in Book ii. chap. 12 of Montaigne's Essays. He was born in France in 1667. Driven from his native country in 1685 by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, he settled in London, and died there in 1754. He got his living mainly by teaching mathematics, in which his skill was consummate, and his publications on the subject attest the acuteness and originality of his genius. He was on terms of friendship with Newton. Through air's vast oceans see the storks explore, Columbus-like, a world unknown before. Boast we of arts? a bee can better hit The squares than Gibbs, the bearings than Sir Kit. To poise his dome a martin has the knack, While bold Bernini lets St. Peter's crack. Gibbs was born about 1674 and died in 1754. He designed St. Martin's church in London, and the Radcliffe library at Oxford. Sir Kit is Sir Christopher Wren. A century after the dome of St. Peter's was erected, Bernini inserted staircases in the hollow piers which support the cupola, and the cracks in the dome were falsely ascribed to his operations. The martins are not more infallible than man, and, unlike man, they do not profit by experience. White of Selborne relates that they built in the window corners of a house in his neighbourhood, where the recess was too shallow to protect their work, which was washed down with every hard rain, and yet year after year they persevered through the summer in their useless drudgery. Dryden, Absalom and Achitophel: Our fond begetters who would never die, Love but themselves in their posterity. The lines from ver. 115 to ver. 124 are varied in the MS.: Quick with this spirit new-born nature moved, Itself each creature in its species loved; Each sought a pleasure not possessed alone, Each sex desired alike till two were one. This impulse animates; one nature feeds The vital lamp, and swells the genial seeds: All spread their image with like ardour stung, All love themselves, reflected in their young. Dr. George Campbell remarks, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric, that to talk of creatures loving themselves in their progeny is nonsensical rant. Of many fathers and mothers it would be nearer the truth to say that they love their children almost to the exclusion of themselves. Neither Pope nor Bolingbroke had children, and not having experienced, they misapprehended, the parental feeling. Till taught to range the wood, or wing the air, There instinct ends its passion and its care. And ev'ry tender passion takes its turn. The line in the text alludes to Pope's hypothesis that every virtue is grafted upon a ruling passion. Scarce had the last the parents' care outgrown Before they saw those parents want their own. Dryden, Palamon and Arcite, Book iii.: and issuing into man, Grudges their life from whence his own began. Stretch the long interest, and support the line. She spake, and man her high behests obeyed; Harmless amidst his fellow-beasts he strayed; For pride was not; joint tenant of the shade He shared with beasts his table and his bed; No murder etc. "He speaks," says M. Crousaz, "of what passed in the earliest ages of the world no less positively than an eye-witness." Pope followed the ancient fable which he may have read, among other places, in Montaigne's Essays, Book ii. Chap. 12: "Plato, in his picture of the golden age under Saturn, reckons, among the chief advantages that a man then had, his communications with beasts, by which he acquired a very perfect intelligence and prudence, and led his life more happily than we could do." Then crept in pride, and peevish covetise, And man grew greedy, discordous, and nice. Now man that erst hail-fellow was with beast, Woxe on to ween himself a god at least.—Wakefield. The woolly fleece that clothed her murderer. He called on heav'n for blessing, they for food. Unstained with gore the grassy altar grew, Priests yet were temperate, yet no passions knew; Nor yet would glutton zeal devoutly eat, Nor faithful av'rice hugged his god in plate. The pagans feasted upon the meat they offered to idols, which is what we are to understand by the "glutton zeal" that "devoutly eats." Ah how unlike the living is the dead.—Wakefield. Of half that live himself the living tomb. Who, foe to nature, other kinds o'erthrown Restless he seeks dominion o'er his own. Or, Who deaf to nature's universal groan, Murders all other kinds, betrays his own. This is the same amiable being who is celebrated, ver. 51, for "helping the wants and woes of other creatures," and sparing singing-birds and gilded insects out of pure compassion. Th' essay of bloody feasts on brutes began, And after forged the sword to murder man.—Wakefield. MS.: While nature, strict the injury to scan, Left man the only beast to prey on man. In early times when man aspired to art. The lines from ver. 161 to 168 are parenthetical, and Pope now goes back to the primitive age in which uncorrupted man associated freely with the beasts, and profited by their teaching. 'Twas then the voice of mighty nature spake. The instances are all fanciful or fabulous. Behold the rabbit's fortress in the sands, The beaver's storied house not made with hands. A rabbit-burrow has no resemblance to a military fortress, and Pope prudently omitted the incongruous comparison. Martial, Lib. xiii. Ep. 60, had used the illustration in a directly opposite sense, and said that rabbits, by teaching the art of mining, had shown the enemy how fortresses could be taken. The paper-nautilus, or Argonauta Argo, has eight arms. The first pair in the female expand at their extremities, so that each of the two arms terminates in a broad thin membrane. These broad membranes do not exist in the male, and modern naturalists reject the idea that they are used for sails. There, too, each form of social commerce find, So late by reason taught to human kind. Behold th' embodied locust rushing forth In sabled millions from th' inclement north; In herds the wolves, invasive robbers, roam, In flocks, the sheep pacific, race at home. What warlike discipline the cranes display, How leagued their squadron, how direct their way. Pope upbraids men for enacting laws too strong for the weak instead of following the laws of bees, which are "wise as nature, and as fixed as fate." Such is their superior consideration for the weak that the workers kill the drones when they become burthensome to them, and so far are we behind them in our poor law legislation that we are compelled to maintain the useless members of society,—the old, the crippled, the hopelessly sick, the insane, the idiotic—all of whom, if we would only learn mercy and wisdom of the bee, we should immediately put to death. The doctrine of Pope is altogether childish. The contracted routine of a bee's existence has too little in common with the complicated relations of human life for bee-hive usages to displace the statutes of the realm. Who for those arts they learned of brutes before, As kings shall crown them, or as gods adore.—Pope. Cities were built, and useful laws were made.—Wakefield. The neighbours leagued to guard their common spot, And love was nature's dictate, murder not. For want alone each animal contends; Tigers with tigers, that removed, are friends. Plain nature's wants the common mother crowned, She poured her acorns, herbs, and streams around. No treasure then for rapine to invade, What need to fight for sunshine, or for shade? And half the cause of contest was removed, When beauty could be kind to all who loved.—Warburton. Of the first couplet there are two other versions in the MS.: Fear would forbid th' unpractised to engage, And nature's dictate love, not blood and rage. Or, Unpractised man, that knew no murd'ring skill, And nature's dictate was to love, not kill. Commerce, convenience, change might strongly draw. The second line of the couplet had already appeared in the Epistle of Eloisa to Abelard, ver. 92, in connection with sentiments which leave no doubt of Pope's meaning. In the primitive and golden age he held that love had full liberty to obey its inclinations, or, as he expressed it in the passage of the MS. quoted by Warburton, "beauty could then be kind to all who loved." In other words there was a community of women regulated by no other law than natural impulse. These states had lords 'tis true, but each its own, Not all subjected to the rule of one, Unless where from one lineage all began, And swelled into a nation from a man. The nature of the distinction which Pope draws between the lordship over the early states, and kingly rule, is clear from ver. 215, where he says that till monarchy was established patriarchal government prevailed, and each state was only a collection of relations who obeyed the family chief. In a monarchy two or more states were joined together, and the national began to take the place of the family tie. The effect of the change would be great. The social bond between the governor and the governed would be weakened, and the official dignity, the harsh authority, and selfish impulses of the ruler would be quickly increased. Warton's criticism appears to be wrong throughout. He says the lines describe "the manner in which the four elements were subdued;" but we learn nothing of "the manner" by being told that "fire" was "commanded," and water "controlled." He says "there is not an useless word;" but as either "command" or "control" would apply with equal propriety to both fire and water, the second verb is added solely to eke out the line, and the adjective "profound," when joined to "abyss," is weak tautology for the sake of the rhyme. He says that the epithets "are placed precisely with the very substantive that is of most consequence;" but why is the "fire" less important than the "abyss?" The verses might pass without comment if Warton had not extolled them for imaginary merits. The first line is an example of the sacrifice of truth and picturesqueness to hyperbolical, affected forms of speech. To talk of "calling food from the wond'ring furrow" conveys a false idea of agricultural processes. He crowned the wond'ring earth with golden grain, Taught to command the fire, control the main, Drew from the secret deep the finny drove, And fetched the soaring eagle from above. The first couplet is again varied: He taught the arts of life, the means of food, To pierce the forest, and to stem the flood. Till weak, and old, and dying they began. This couplet is followed in the MS. by a second which Pope omitted: Saw his shrunk arms, pale cheeks, and faded eye, Beheld him bend, and droop, and sink, and die. At ver. 148 we are told that "the state of nature was the reign of God," and at ver. 156 that "all vocal beings"—man, bird, and beast—joined then in "hymning" their Creator. This condition of things, we learn from ver. 149, dated from the "birth" of nature, which is contrary to Pope's present conjecture that the primitive families may, perhaps, have had no conception of a Deity. The poet's language is irrational. If God did not reveal himself to them in any direct way, they might yet be supposed capable of inferring from their own existence and that of the universe, a truth which their posterity deduced from the death of patriarch after patriarch. He adverts to it in this passage, where he contrasts primitive virtue with subsequent license. 'Twas simple worship in the native grove, Religion, morals, had no name but love. Milton's "enormous bliss" was bliss "wild, above rule or art." The persons who misunderstood the epithet in Pope's poem must have been those who read the MS.; for the explanatory couplet appeared in the first edition of the Epistle. He obviously meant by "enormous faith" that the faith was an enormity, and it is difficult to conjecture what other sense could be attached to his phrase. Split the huge oak, and rocked the rending ground. Wakefield points out that the lines, ver. 249-252, are from Lucretius, v. 1217. From op'ning earth showed fiends infernal nigh, And gods supernal from the bursting sky. An umpire, partial, and unjust, And a lewd woman's impious lust. The native wood seemed sacred now no more. People no longer held sacred the natural temple in which, ver. 155, men and beasts formerly "hymned their God," but it was thought necessary to worship in costly buildings, and sacrifice animals on "marble altars." The glutton priest first tasted living food. Bolingbroke, Fragment 24: "As if God was appeased whenever the priest was glutted with roast meat." Wakefield remarks that Pope followed Pythagoras in calling food "living," because it had once been alive. A meat diet is said, ver. 167, to have been the origin of wars, and here we are told that the "flamen first tasted living food" after war and tyranny had over-spread the earth, which is an inconsistency, unless Pope believed that his "glutton priests" were more abstemious than the rest of mankind till animals were sacrificed in the name of religion. The poet, in this Epistle, is loud in denouncing the practice of eating animal food, but he ate it without scruple himself. First Moloch, horrid king, besmeared with blood Of human sacrifice, and parent's tears, Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud Their children's cries unheard, that passed through fire To his grim idol. Many of Pope's writings are strewed with Miltonic phrases, though they need not be pointed out, and certainly do not detract from his general merit. Such interweavings of significant and forcible expressions have often a striking effect.—Bowles. In the MS. there is this couplet after ver. 272: For say what makes the liberty of man? 'Tis not in doing what he would but can. The lines were intended to give the reason why law is not an infringement of liberty, and were probably cancelled because the reason was as applicable to cruel as to salutary laws. Upon Pope's principle the worst despotism would not interfere with the liberty of the subject, provided only that resistance was hopeless. Wisely she knew the harmony of things, As well as that of sounds, from discord springs.—Hurd. His path, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right. The position is demonstrably absurd in both poets. All conduct originates in principles. Where the principles, therefore, are not strictly pure, and accurately true, the conduct must deviate from the line of perfect rectitude.—Wakefield. "I prefer a bad action to a bad principle," says Rousseau, somewhere, and Rousseau was right. A bad action may remain isolated; a bad principle is always prolific, because, after all, it is the mind which governs, and man acts according to his thoughts much oftener than he himself imagines.—Guizot. He whose life is in the right cannot, says Pope, in any sense calling for blame, have a wrong faith. But the answer is that his life cannot be in the right unless in so far as it bends to the influences of a true faith. How feeble a conception must that man have of the infinity which lurks in a human spirit, who can persuade himself that its total capacities of life are exhaustible by the few gross acts incident to social relations, or open to human valuation? The true internal acts of moral man are his thoughts, his yearnings, his aspirations, his sympathies or repulsions of heart. This is the life of man as it is appreciable by heavenly eyes.—De Quincey. Prefer we then the greater to the less, For charity is all men's happiness. But charity the greatest of the three. 1 Cor. xiii. 13: "And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." Th' extended earth is but one sphere of bliss To him, who makes another's blessing his. None think the great unhappy but the great. The change from a person to a thing commences at the third verse, where Pope calls happiness "that something," and he changes back to the person in the eighth verse, where he addresses happiness as "thou." O happiness! to which we all aspire, Winged with strong hope, and borne with full desire; That good, we still mistake, and still pursue, Still out of reach, yet ever in our view; That ease, for which in want, in wealth we sigh, That ease, for which we labour and we die; Tell me, ye sages, (sure 'tis yours to know), Tell in what mortal soul this ease may grow. An iron harvest mounts, and still remains to mow.—Wakefield. Pope's image is not sufficiently distinctive. There is only one word, the epithet "iron," to indicate that he is speaking of military renown, and this epithet, drawn from the material of which swords are made, is also applicable to the sickle. Heav'n plants no vain desire in human kind, But what it prompts to seek, directs to find, From whom, so strongly pointing at the end, To hide the means it never could intend. Now since, whatever happiness we call, Subsists not in the good of one, but all, And whosoever would be blessed must bless, Virtue alone can form that happiness. A sentence in Hooker's Eccl. Pol., Book i. Chap. viii. Sect. 7, will explain Pope's idea in the last four lines: "If I cannot but wish to receive all good at every man's hand, how should I look to have any part of my desire satisfied, unless myself be careful to satisfy the like desire in other men?" And none can boast sincere felicity. Philemon Holland talks of "sincere vermillion," Arbuthnot of "sincere acid," and Hooker speaks of keeping the Scriptures "entire and sincere." Pope's account of the epicureans is the exact opposite of the truth. He says they "placed bliss in action," whereas Seneca tells us, Benef. iv. 4: "QuÆ maxima Epicure felicitas videtur, nihil agit." The poet's account of the stoics is equally wrong. Instead of placing "bliss in ease" they inculcated the sternest self-denial, and untiring efforts to fulfil all virtue. The true stoic did not, as Pope asserts, "confess virtue vain." He contended that it was all-sufficient. Till the edition of 1743 this couplet was as follows: One grants his pleasure is but rest from pain; One doubts of all; one owns ev'n virtue vain. The two lines which conclude the paragraph, and which first appeared in the edition of 1743, were written at Warburton's suggestion. The object of the addition was to represent the credulous man who trusted everything as equally deceived with the sceptic who trusted in nothing. Of the last line there is a second version: One trusts the senses, and one doubts of all. Pyrrho and his followers held that we can only know things as they appear, and not as they are. Thence they maintained that appearances must be absolutely indifferent, and that we could be equally happy in all conditions,—in sickness, for instance, Cicero, Fin. ii. 13, as in health. The one reality which Pyrrho admitted was virtue, and this he said (Cicero, Fin. iv. 16), was the supreme good which he who possessed had nothing left to desire. For opinion creates the fantastic wants of fashion and luxury. True happiness, 'tis sacred truth I tell, Lies but in thinking, &c. The man who always "thinks right" is infallible in wisdom, and if he always "means well" he must act in obedience to his infallible convictions, when he will also be impeccable. There needs but this, says Pope, to secure happiness. He scoffs at the vague definitions of philosophers, and substitutes the luminous direction that we should be infallible in our views, and impeccable in our conduct. In no extreme lies real happiness, Not ev'n of good or wisdom in excess. "Good" and "wisdom" in the last line might be supposed to mean something that was not true wisdom and goodness if Pope had not argued, ver. 259-268, that real wisdom was injurious to happiness. He would have the "right thinking" alloyed with error, and the "meaning well" with evil. And though it in the centre sit, Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans, and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. 'Tis not in self it can begin and end, The bliss of one must with another blend: The strongest, noblest pleasures of the mind All hold of mutual converse with the kind. Can sensual lust, or selfish rapine, know Such as from bounty, love, or mercy flow? Of human nature wit its worst may write, We all revere it in our own despite. To rob another's is to lose our own, And the just bound once passed the whole is gone. inference if you make, That such are happier, 'tis a gross mistake. Say not, "Heav'n's here profuse, there poorly saves, And for one monarch makes a thousand slaves;" You'll find when causes and their ends are known, 'Twas for the thousand heav'n has made that one. Ev'n mutual want to common blessings tends, One labours, one directs, and one defends, While double pay benevolence receives, Is blessed in what it takes, and what it gives. In what (heav'n's hand impartial to confess) Need men be equal but in happiness. The bliss of all, if heav'n's indulgent aim, He could not place in riches, pow'r or fame. In these suppose it placed, one greatly blessed, Others were hurt, impoverished, or oppressed; Or did they equally on all descend, If all were equal must not all contend? Tis peace of mind alone is at a stay: The rest mad fortune gives or takes away: All other bliss by accident's debarred, But virtue's, in the instant, a reward; In hardest trials operates the best, And more is relished as the more distressed.—Warburton. There is still another couplet in the MS.: Virtue's plain consequence is happiness, Or virtue makes the disappointment less. "Heaven's just balance" is made "equal," says this writer, because men are harassed with fears in proportion to their elevation, and amused with hopes in a state of distress. But a man may be good either in high or low rank; and God does not, to make the happiness of mankind equal, fill the heart of one with idle fears, and of the other with chimerical hopes.—Crousaz. How widely then at happiness we aim By selfish pleasures, riches, pow'r or fame! Increase of these is but increase of pain, Wrong the materials, and the labour vain. The gods with laughter on the labour gaze, And bury such in the mad heaps they raise. Behold the blessing then to none denied But through our vice, by error or by pride; Which nothing but excess can render vain, And then lost only when too much we gain. The good, the bad may fortune's gifts possess; The bad acquire them worse, enjoy them less. Secure to find, ev'n from the very worst, If vice and virtue want, compassion first. Men not intrinsically virtuous have often had the good opinion of the world; the happiness they want is a good conscience. Let sober moralists correct their speech, No bad man's happy: he is great, or rich.—Warburton. Brave Sidney falls amid the martial strife, Not that he's virtuous, but profuse of life. Not virtue snatched Arbuthnot's hopeful bloom, And sent thee, Craggs, untimely to the tomb. Say not 'tis virtue, but too soft a frame, That Walsh his race, and Scud'more ends her name. Think not their virtues, more though heav'n ne'er gave, Unites so many Digbys in a grave. Fierce love, not virtue, Falkland, was thy doom, Her grief, not virtue, nipped Louisa's bloom. The Arbuthnot mentioned here was Charles, a clergyman, and son of the celebrated physician. His death in 1732 was supposed to have been occasioned by the lingering effects of a wound he received in a duel he fought while at Oxford with a fellow-collegian, his rival in love. James Craggs died of the small-pox Feb. 14, 1721, aged 35. Virtue had certainly no share in his death, for he was licentious in private life, and in his public capacity accepted a bribe from the South Sea directors. Walsh died in 1708, at the age of 49. His virtue may be estimated by his confession that he had committed every folly in love, except matrimony. Lady Scudamore, widow of Sir James Scudamore, and daughter of the fourth Lord Digby, died of the small-pox, May 3, 1729, aged 44. She left only a daughter, who married, and hence Pope's expression, "Scud'more ends her name." The many Digbys united in one grave were the children of the fifth Lord, the father of the poet's friend, Robert. I do not know what is meant by the "fierce love" which was Falkland's "doom," nor can I identify the Louisa who died of grief. When nature sickens, and with fainting breath Struggles beneath the bitter pangs of death.—Wakefield. O Rhoebus! we have lived too long for me, If life and long were terms that could agree.—Wakefield. Yet hemmed with plagues, and breathing deathful air, Marseilles' good bishop still possess the chair; And long kind chance, or heav'n's more kind decree, Lends an old parent, etc. Pope's mother died June 7, 1733. She was said by the poet to be 93, but was only 91, if the register of her baptism, June 18, 1642, gives the year of her birth, which is doubtless the case, since an elder sister was baptised in 1641, and a younger in 1643. Pope's justification of the partial ill which is not a general good is, in substance, that Providence has not supreme dominion over his physical laws, that change and nature act independently of him, and vitiate his work. In place of ver. 113-16 the earlier editions have this couplet: God sends not ill, 'tis nature lets it fall, Or chance escape, and man improves it all. The notion that the disturbing operations of "chance" could explain the existence of evil was intrinsically absurd, and inconsistent with Ep. i., ver. 290, where Pope says that "all chance is direction." Chance is, in strictness, a nonentity, and merely signifies that the cause of an effect is unknown to us, or beyond our control. Neither supposition could apply to the Almighty. Warburton quotes a couplet from the MS., which could not be retained without a glaring contradiction, when Pope had discovered two other evil-doers besides man,—nature and chance: Of every evil, since the world began The real source is not in God, but man. T' explore Vesuvius if great Pliny aims, Shall the loud mountain call back all its flames? At the eruption of Vesuvius in 79, Pliny, the naturalist, was commanding the Roman fleet in the Gulf of Naples. He made for the coast in the neighbourhood of the volcano, till checked by the falling stones and ashes, he sailed to StabiÆ, and landed. In a few hours the tottering of the houses, shaken by the earthquake, warned him to fly, and according to his nephew he was overtaken by flames and sulphurous vapours, and suffocated. StabiÆ is ten miles from Vesuvius, and the flame and vapour could hardly have been propelled from the mountain. Or shall some ruin, as it nods to fall, For Chartres' brains reserve the hanging wall? No,—in a scene far higher heav'n imparts Rewards for spotless hands, and honest hearts. The last couplet is a direct acknowledgment of a future state, and was probably omitted to avoid contradicting the infidel tenets of Bolingbroke. This way, I fear, your project too must fall, Will just what serves one good man serve 'em all? Give each a system, all must be at strife; What diff'rent systems for a man and wife?—Warburton. The very best ambitiously advise. MS.: The best in habits variously incline. E'en leave it as it is; this world, etc. Justice gives way to force: the conquered world Is CÆsar's; Cato has no business in it. And Act v. Sc. 1: This world was made for CÆsar. "If," says Pope, "the world is made for ambitious men, such as CÆsar, it is also made for good men, like Titus." Extreme cases test principles, and to establish his position, that the virtuous in this life have always a larger share of enjoyments than the worldly, Pope should have dealt with some of the numerous instances in which the good have been condemned to tortures in consequence of their goodness. Can God be just if virtue be unfed? Why, fool, is the reward of virtue bread? 'Tis his who labours, his who sows the plain, 'Tis his who threshes, or who grinds the grain. Where madness fights for tyrants or for gain. Where folly fights for kings or drowns for gain. In the early editions Pope adopted the first version; in the later the second, with the change of "dives" for "drowns." Then give him this, and that, and everything: Still the complaint subsists; he is no king. Outward rewards for inward worth are odd: Why then complain not that he is no god? Ver. 162 in the text is inconsistent with ver. 161. Pope supposes the good to rise in their demands until they rebel against receiving external rewards for internal merits, and insist that man should be a god, and earth a heaven, which heaven is one of the externals they have just indignantly repudiated. But come, for virtue the just payment fix, For humble merit say a coach and six, For justice a Lord Chancellor's awful gown, &c. Pope showed his consciousness of the weakness of his cause by raising false issues. Virtue would not be rewarded by swords, gowns, and coaches, but is it rewarded by the cross, the stake, the rack, and the dungeon? Say, what rewards this idle world imparts, Or fit for searching heads or honest hearts.—Warburton. From Warton's note it would appear that the lines were first printed in his own edition in 1797, whereas they were published in Pope's edition of 1743. The poet had then renounced Bolingbroke for Warburton, and ventured to admit that there was a heaven reserved for man. For riches, can they give, but to the just, His own contentment, or another's trust? Let honour and preferment go for gold, But glorious beauty isn't to be sold. The MS. adds: Were health of mind and body purchased here, 'Twere worth the cost; all else is bought too dear. The satirical aggravation here is conducted with great dexterity by an interchange of terms: the gaudy word "flaunt" properly belongs to the sumptuous dress, and that of "flutter" to the tattered garment.—Wakefield. Wakefield did not perceive that the language no longer fitted the facts; for though flimsy rags flutter, the stiff brocade did not. Pope avoided the inconsistency in his first draught: Oft of two brothers one shall be surveyed Flutt'ring in rags, one flaunting in brocade. What differs more, you cry, than gown and hood? A wise man and a fool, a bad and good. The miserable rhyme in the text had the authority of a pun in Shakespeare, 3 Henry VI. Act v. Sc. 6: Why what a peevish fool was that of Crete That taught his son the office of a fowl? And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drowned. To kings or to the favourites of kings.—Hurd. The richest blood, right-honourably old, Down from Lucretia to Lucretia rolled, May swell thy heart and gallop in thy breast, Without one dash of usher or of priest: Thy pride as much despise all other pride As Christ-church once all colleges beside.—Warburton. Et si leur sang tout pur, ainsi que leur noblesse, Est passÉ jusqu'À vous de LucrÈce en LucrÈce.—Warton. The bad rhyme did not appear till the edition of 1743. The couplet had previously stood as follows: Thy boasted blood, a thousand years or so May from Lucretia to Lucretia flow. Or tedious bead rolls of descended blood, From father Japhet since Deucalion's flood.—Wakefield. But to make wits of fools, and chiefs of cowards, What can? not all the pride of all the Howards. And, But make one wise, or loved, or happy man, Not all the pride of all the Howards can. Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain, "Think nothing gained," he cries, "till nought remain." And more contentment honest Sh[ippen] feels Than W[alpole] with a senate at his heels. More loved, more praised, more envied in his doom, Than CÆsar trampling on the rights of Rome.—Wakefield. The exclamation "painful pre-eminence," is from Addison's Cato, Act iii. Sc. 5, where Cato applies the phrase to his own situation. The greatest, bravest, wittiest of mankind.—Bowles. Charmed with the foolish whistlings of a name.—Hurd. That wretch, in spite of his forgotten rhymes, Condemned to live to all succeeding times.—Wakefield. Pope's examples would not bear out his language unless Bacon and Cromwell were generally reprobated, whereas both have distinguished champions and innumerable adherents. In one man's fortune, mark and scorn them all. The "ancient story" was a pretence which Pope inserted when he turned the invective against the Duke of Marlborough into a general satire upon a class. One equal course how guilt and greatness ran. The charges were the calumnies of an infuriated faction. His military career while he was commander-in-chief was free from reproach. He was never known to sanction an act of wanton harshness, or to exceed the recognised usages of war. The pretence that he prolonged the contest for the sake of gain does not require a refutation, for his accusers could never produce a fragment of colourable evidence in support of the allegation. The Duke of Wellington ridiculed the notion, and said that however much Marlborough might have loved money he must have loved his military reputation more. The poet, who denounced him as a man "stained with blood," and "infamous for plundered provinces," could, at ver. 100, call Turenne "god-like," though he gave the atrocious command to pillage and burn the Palatinate, and turned it into a smouldering desert. "Habit," says Sismondi, "had rendered him insensible to the sufferings of the people, and he subjected them to the most cruel inflictions." Let gathered nations next their chief behold, How blessed with conquest, yet more blessed with gold: Go then, and steep thy age in wealth and ease, Stretched on the spoils of plundered provinces. Unless a moderate use refine, A value give, and make it shine. But called it marriage, by that specious name To veil the crime, and sanctify the shame.—Wakefield. And storied windows richly dight Casting a dim religious light. The walls and ceiling of the saloon at Blenheim are painted with figures and trophies, and some rooms are hung with tapestry commemorating the great sieges and battles of the Duke. The tapestry, which was manufactured in the Netherlands, and was a present from the Dutch, is described by Dyer in The Fleece, Book iii. ver. 499-517. A lofty fabric does the sight invade, And stretches o'er the waves a pompous shade.—Wakefield. The "human bliss" does not "stand still," unless we believe that the virtuous man suffers nothing when his virtue subjects him to scorn, persecution, and tortures. it is twice blessed; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes. Ev'n while it seems unequal to dispose, And chequers all the good man's joys with woes, 'Tis but to teach him to support each state, With patience this, with moderation that; And raise his base on that one solid joy, Which conscience gives, and nothing can destroy.—Warburton. The sense in the first line is not completed. Virtue "seems unequal to dispose" something, but we are not told what. More pleasing, then, humanity's soft tears Than all the mirth unfeeling folly wears. There are numerous grades of character between "unfeeling folly" and christian excellence, and many gratifications of the earthly-minded are assuredly more pleasant for the time than the sharp and ennobling pangs of suffering virtue. Which not by starts, and from without acquired, Is all ways exercised, and never tired. But if you ask me now what sect I own, I swear a blind obedience unto none.—Wakefield. Let us, my S[t. John], this plain truth confess, Good nature makes, and keeps our happiness; And faith and morals end as they began, All in the love of God, and love of man. In his second epistle Pope maintains that we are born with the germ of an unalterable ruling passion which grows with our growth, and swallows up every other passion. Among these ruling passions he specifies spleen, hate, fear, anger, etc., which are dispensed by fate, absorb the entire man, and of necessity exclude love. Here, on the contrary, we are told, ver. 327-340, that "the sole bliss heaven could on all bestow," is the virtue which "ends in love of God and love of man." A love so unconfined With arms extended would embrace mankind. Self-love would cease, or be dilated, when We should behold as many selfs as men.—Wakefield. To rise from individuals to the whole Is the true progress of the god-like soul. The first impression the soft passions make, Like the small pebble in the limpid lake, Begets a greater and a greater still, The circle widening till the whole it fill; Till God and man, and brute and reptile kind All wake, all move, all agitate his mind; Earth with his bounteous overflows is blessed; Heav'n pleased beholds its image in his breast. Parent or friend first touch the virtuous mind, His country next, and next all human kind. And now transported o'er so vast a plain, While the winged courser flies with all her rein, While heav'n-ward now her mounting wing she feels, Now scattered fools fly trembling from her heels, Wilt thou, my St. John! keep her course in sight, Confine her fury, and assist her flight?—Warburton. The exaggerated estimate which Pope had formed of the Essay on Man is apparent from this passage. With respect to the poetry, "the winged courser flew with all her rein;" with respect to the argument, "scattered fools flew trembling" from its crushing power. Happy, who in his verse can gently steer From grave to light, from pleasant to severe.—Wakefield. And while the muse transported, unconfined, Soars to the sky, or stoops among mankind, Teach her like thee, through various fortune wise, With dignity to sink, with temper rise; Formed by thy converse, steer an equal flight From grave to gay, from profit to delight Artful with grace, and natural to please, Intent in business, elegant in ease. immensÆ veluti connexa carinÆ Cymba minor, cum sÆvit hyems, pro parte, furentes Parva receptat aquas, et eodem volvitur austro.—Hurd. Mr. Pope forgot while he wrote ver. 383-6, the censures he had so justly cast, ver. 237, upon that vain desire of an useless immortality—Crousaz. That just to find a God is all we can, And all the study of mankind is man.—WARBURTON. The MS. has another version of the couplet in the text: And all our knowledge, all our bliss below, To love our neighbour, and ourselves to know. Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust, Whose attributes were rage, revenge, or lust. Such a divinity was Jupiter, and to worship an abominable phantom, conspicuous for "rage, revenge, and lust," was not to adore "Jehovah." Left conscience free and will. Here followed, if it is genuine, a suppressed stanza, which Mrs. Thrale repeated to Dr. Johnson, and which she said a clergyman of their acquaintance had discovered: Can sins of moments claim the rod Of everlasting fires? And that offend great nature's God Which nature's self inspires Mrs. Thrale called the stanza "licentious," Johnson observed that it was borrowed from the Pastor Fido of Guarini, and Boswell pointed out that a "rod of fires" was an incongruous metaphor. "I warrant you, however," said Johnson, "Pope wrote this stanza, and some friend struck it out." The folly of the lines is transparent. The "sins" with which "nature's self inspires" man, "conscience warns him not to do," ver. 14, and Pope assumes that God will never be "offended" if we disregard conscience, and yield to temptation. Or think Thee Lord alone of man, When thousand worlds are round; but the conclusion is a contrast of littleness, And deal damnation round the land.—Bowles. Estne Dei sedes, nisi terra, et pontus, et aer, Et coelum, et virtus?—Wakefield. 1. Except as noted below, obvious punctuation inconsistencies and typographical errors and spelling errors have been corrected. 2. Except as noted below, spelling and capitalization inconsistencies have been retained. 3. Pope often wrote names with dashes replacing part of the name, as in 'Sw--y'. The dashes look like em-dashes in the original, but they have been changed to long dashes; thus, 'Sw----y'. 4. On p. 60, the first footnote (footnote 195) ('This couplet is succeeded by two...') has nothing in the text pointing to it; however the couplet on lines 426 and 427 is marked in pen at the side. This could be the couplet referred to in footnote 195. 5. On p. 126, the second footnote (footnote 318) ('Spence, p. 178.') has nothing in the text pointing to it; however it seems likely that it refers to the quote ending 'He has an appetite to satire.' 6. On p. 127, 'terrestial' (in the phrase 'Whose shapes seemed not like to terrestial boys,') was changed to 'terrestrial'. 7. On the unnumbered page between p. 144 and p. 146, the line in the third footnote (footnote 369), 'If any muse assists the poet's lays' had 'asists' in the original. 8. On p. 146, in the fourth footnote (footnote 375) the phrase 'I myself, about the year 1790' was 'I myself, about the year year 1790' in the original. 9. On the unnumbered page before p. 186, the line 'Launched on the bosom of the silver Thames' had 'bosm' in the original. 10. On p. 231, the third footnote (footnote 576) ('Introduction to the Literature of Europe, 5th ed. vol. i. p. 33....') has nothing in the text pointing to it. 11. On p. 254, the first footnote (footnote 697) ('The combination "heavenly-fair"...') had nothing in the text pointing to it; a pointer has been added after the first line on the page, which starts 'Oh grace serene!' 12. On p. 263, in the phrase 'With these precautions, in 1732[3] was published...', the '[3]' does not indicate a footnote. Other footnote indicators in the original were superscripts; this '[3]' was not. 13. On p. 274, the word 'beforehand' was broken across two lines; it was arbitrarily made 'beforehand' rather than 'before-hand'. 14. On p. 388, the line 'Through life 'tis followed, ev'en at life's expense' had 'expence' in the original. 15. On p. 513, the phrase 'He subdued the intractability of all the four elements' had 'intractibility' in the original. |