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diff --git a/old/8rplk10h.htm b/old/8rplk10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f4937a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8rplk10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10656 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>The Rape of the Lock and other poems, by Pope</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<meta name="keywords" content= +"'The Rape of the Lock and Other Poems', Pope, Alexander Pope, poem, poems, poetry, literature, English Literature, bibliography, e-book, Public Doman, free e-book"> +<meta name="description" content= +"'The Rape of the Lock and Other Poems', this edition published 1906, edited with introduction and notes by Thomas Marc Parrott, some of the famous eighteenth-century writings of Alexander Pope, now available in html form, as a free download from Project Gutenberg"> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {background:#ffff99; margin:10%; text-align:justify} +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {color:#A82C28} +– > +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Rape of the Lock and Other Poems, by Alexander Pope + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Rape of the Lock and Other Poems + +Author: Alexander Pope + +Release Date: January, 2006 [EBook #9800] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 18, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAPE OF THE LOCK AND OTHER *** + + + + +Produced by Clytie Siddall, Charles Aldarondo, Tiffany Vergon +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<table summary="title" width="100%" cellspacing="10" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"><td width="50%"><h1>Pope's <br> +<br> +<br> +<i>The Rape of the Lock</i></h1> +<br> + +<br> +<h2>and other poems</h2> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> +<br> + + +<b>edited with introduction and notes by<br> +<br> + +Thomas Marc Parrott<br> +<br><br> + +</b><br> + +<br> + +<br> +<i>this edition 1906</i> +<br> + +</td> +<td width="50%"><br> +<img src="images/PI1.gif" width="413" height="630" align="right" border="2" alt="Portrait of Pope"> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + + + +<p><b><a name="toc">Table of Contents</a></b></p> +<ul> +<li><a href="#preface">Preface</a></li> +<li><a href="#introduction">Introduction</a></li> +<li style="list-style: none"> +<ul> +<li><a href="#dates">Chief Dates in Pope's Life</a></li> +</ul> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section1">The Rape of the Lock </a></li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section2">An Essay on Criticism </a></li> +<li style="list-style: none"> +<ul> +<li><a href="#eoccontents">Contents (tabulated)</a></li> +<li><a href="#eocitself">An Essay on Criticism</a></li> +</ul> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section3">An Essay on Man, Epistle I</a></li> +<li style="list-style: none"> +<ul> +<li><a href="#eomdesign">The Design</a></li> +<li><a href="#eomargepist1">Argument of Epistle I (tabulated)</a></li> +<li><a href="#epist1self">Epistle I</a></li> +</ul> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section4">An Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot</a></li> +<li style="list-style: none"> +<ul> +<li><a href="#advertepist">Advertisement to the First Publication</a></li> +<li><a href="#epiarbself">Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot</a></li> +</ul> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section5">Ode on Solitude</a></li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section6">The Descent of Dullness</a> (from <i>The Dunciad</i>, Book IV)</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section7">Epitaph on Gay</a></li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>Notes on:</li> +<li style="list-style: none"> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section8">The Rape of the Lock</a></li> +<li><a href="#section9">An Essay on Criticism</a></li> +<li><a href="#section10">An Essay on Man, Epistle I</a></li> +<li><a href="#section11">An Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot</a></li> +<li><a href="#section11a">An Ode on Solitude</a></li> +<li><a name="cp2"></a><a href="#section11b">The Descent of Dullness</a></li> +<li><a href="#section11c">The Epitaph on Gay</a></li> +</ul> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a href="#section13">Appendix: First Edition of the <i>Rape of the Lock</i></a></li> +</ul> +<br> +<br> +<hr> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="preface">Preface</a></h2> +<br> +It has been the aim of the editor in preparing this little book to get +together sufficient material to afford a student in one of our high +schools or colleges adequate and typical specimens of the vigorous and +versatile genius of Alexander Pope. With this purpose he has included in +addition to <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>, the <i>Essay on Criticism</i> +as furnishing the standard by which Pope himself expected his work to be +judged, the <i>First Epistle</i> of the <i>Essay on Man</i> as a +characteristic example of his didactic poetry, and the <i>Epistle to +Arbuthnot</i>, both for its exhibition of Pope's genius as a satirist +and for the picture it gives of the poet himself. To these are added the +famous close of the <i>Dunciad</i>, the <i>Ode to Solitude</i>, a +specimen of Pope's infrequent lyric note, and the <i>Epitaph on Gay</i>.<br> +<br> +The first edition of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> has been given as an +appendix in order that the student may have the opportunity of comparing +the two forms of this poem, and of realizing the admirable art with +which Pope blended old and new in the version that is now the only one +known to the average reader. The text throughout is that of the Globe +Edition prepared by Professor A. W. Ward.<br> +<br> +The editor can lay no claim to originality in the notes with which he +has attempted to explain and illustrate these poems. He is indebted at +every step to the labors of earlier editors, particularly to Elwin, +Courthope, Pattison, and Hales. If he has added anything of his own, it +has been in the way of defining certain words whose meaning or +connotation has changed since the time of Pope, and in paraphrasing +certain passages to bring out a meaning which has been partially +obscured by the poet's effort after brevity and concision.<br> +<br> +In the general introduction the editor has aimed not so much to recite +the facts of Pope's life as to draw the portrait of a man whom he +believes to have been too often misunderstood and misrepresented. The +special introductions to the various poems are intended to acquaint the +student with the circumstances under which they were composed, to trace +their literary genesis and relationships, and, whenever necessary, to +give an outline of the train of thought which they embody. + +In conclusion the editor would express the hope that his labors in the +preparation of this book may help, if only in some slight degree, to +stimulate the study of the work of a poet who, with all his limitations, +remains one of the abiding glories of English literature, and may +contribute not less to a proper appreciation of a man who with all his +faults was, on the evidence of those who knew him best, not only a great +poet, but a very human and lovable personality.<br> +<br> +T. M. P. + +<i>Princeton University</i>, <i>June</i> 4, 1906. +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + + +<h2><a name="introduction">Introduction</a></h2> +<br> +Perhaps no other great poet in English Literature has been so +differently judged at different times as Alexander Pope. Accepted almost +on his first appearance as one of the leading poets of the day, he +rapidly became recognized as the foremost man of letters of his age. He +held this position throughout his life, and for over half a century +after his death his works were considered not only as masterpieces, but +as the finest models of poetry. With the change of poetic temper that +occurred at the beginning of the nineteenth century Pope's fame was +overshadowed. The romantic poets and critics even raised the question +whether Pope was a poet at all. And as his poetical fame diminished, the +harsh judgments of his personal character increased. It is almost +incredible with what exulting bitterness critics and editors of Pope +have tracked out and exposed his petty intrigues, exaggerated his +delinquencies, misrepresented his actions, attempted in short to blast +his character as a man.<br> +<br> +Both as a man and as a poet Pope is sadly in need of a defender to-day. +And a defense is by no means impossible. The depreciation of Pope's +poetry springs, in the main, from an attempt to measure it by other +standards than those which he and his age recognized. The attacks upon +his character are due, in large measure, to a misunderstanding of the +spirit of the times in which he lived and to a forgetfulness of the +special circumstances of his own life. Tried in a fair court by +impartial judges Pope as a poet would be awarded a place, if not among +the noblest singers, at least high among poets of the second order. And +the flaws of character which even his warmest apologist must admit would +on the one hand be explained, if not excused, by circumstances, and on +the other more than counterbalanced by the existence of noble qualities +to which his assailants seem to have been quite blind.<br> +<br> +Alexander Pope was born in London on May 21, 1688. His father was a +Roman Catholic linen draper, who had married a second time. Pope was the +only child of this marriage, and seems to have been a delicate, +sweet-tempered, precocious, and, perhaps, a rather spoiled child.<br> +<br> +Pope's religion and his chronic ill-health are two facts of the highest +importance to be taken into consideration in any study of his life or +judgment of his character. The high hopes of the Catholics for a +restoration of their religion had been totally destroyed by the +Revolution of 1688. During all Pope's lifetime they were a sect at once +feared, hated, and oppressed by the severest laws. They were excluded +from the schools and universities, they were burdened with double taxes, +and forbidden to acquire real estate. All public careers were closed to +them, and their property and even their persons were in times of +excitement at the mercy of informers. In the last year of Pope's life a +proclamation was issued forbidding Catholics to come within ten miles of +London, and Pope himself, in spite of his influential friends, thought +it wise to comply with this edict. A fierce outburst of persecution +often evokes in the persecuted some of the noblest qualities of human +nature; but a long-continued and crushing tyranny that extends to all +the details of daily life is only too likely to have the most +unfortunate results on those who are subjected to it. And as a matter of +fact we find that the well-to-do Catholics of Pope's day lived in an +atmosphere of disaffection, political intrigue, and evasion of the law, +most unfavorable for the development of that frank, courageous, and +patriotic spirit for the lack of which Pope himself has so often been +made the object of reproach.<br> +<br> +In a well-known passage of the <i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i>, Pope has +spoken of his life as one long disease. He was in fact a humpbacked +dwarf, not over four feet six inches in height, with long, spider-like +legs and arms. He was subject to violent headaches, and his face was +lined and contracted with the marks of suffering. In youth he so +completely ruined his health by perpetual studies that his life was +despaired of, and only the most careful treatment saved him from an +early death. Toward the close of his life he became so weak that he +could neither dress nor undress without assistance. He had to be laced +up in stiff stays in order to sit erect, and wore a fur doublet and +three pairs of stockings to protect himself against the cold. With these +physical defects he had the extreme sensitiveness of mind that usually +accompanies chronic ill health, and this sensitiveness was outraged +incessantly by the brutal customs of the age. Pope's enemies made as +free with his person as with his poetry, and there is little doubt that +he felt the former attacks the more bitterly of the two. Dennis, his +first critic, called him "a short squab gentleman, the very bow of the +God of love; his outward form is downright monkey." A rival poet whom he +had offended hung up a rod in a coffee house where men of letters +resorted, and threatened to whip Pope like a naughty child if he showed +his face there. It is said, though perhaps not on the best authority, +that when Pope once forgot himself so far as to make love to Lady Mary +Wortley Montague, the lady's answer was "a fit of immoderate laughter." +In an appendix to the <i>Dunciad</i> Pope collected some of the epithets +with which his enemies had pelted him, "an ape," "an ass," "a frog," "a +coward," "a fool," "a little abject thing." He affected, indeed, to +despise his assailants, but there is only too good evidence that their +poisoned arrows rankled in his heart. Richardson, the painter, found him +one day reading the latest abusive pamphlet. "These things are my +diversion," said the poet, striving to put the best face on it; but as +he read, his friends saw his features "writhen with anguish," and prayed +to be delivered from all such "diversions" as these. Pope's enemies and +their savage abuse are mostly forgotten to-day. Pope's furious retorts +have been secured to immortality by his genius. It would have been +nobler, no doubt, to have answered by silence only; but before one +condemns Pope it is only fair to realize the causes of his bitterness.<br> +<br> +Pope's education was short and irregular. He was taught the rudiments of +Latin and Greek by his family priest, attended for a brief period a +school in the country and another in London, and at the early age of +twelve left school altogether, and settling down at his father's house +in the country began to read to his heart's delight. He roamed through +the classic poets, translating passages that pleased him, went up for a +time to London to get lessons in French and Italian, and above all read +with eagerness and attention the works of older English poets, — Spenser, +Waller, and Dryden. He had already, it would seem, determined to become +a poet, and his father, delighted with the clever boy's talent, used to +set him topics, force him to correct his verses over and over, and +finally, when satisfied, dismiss him with the praise, "These are good +rhymes." He wrote a comedy, a tragedy, an epic poem, all of which he +afterward destroyed and, as he laughingly confessed in later years, he +thought himself "the greatest genius that ever was."<br> +<br> +Pope was not alone, however, in holding a high opinion of his talents. +While still a boy in his teens he was taken up and patronized by a +number of gentlemen, Trumbull, Walsh, and Cromwell, all dabblers in +poetry and criticism. He was introduced to the dramatist Wycherly, +nearly fifty years his senior, and helped to polish some of the old +man's verses. His own works were passed about in manuscript from hand to +hand till one of them came to the eyes of Dryden's old publisher, +Tonson. Tonson wrote Pope a respectful letter asking for the honor of +being allowed to publish them. One may fancy the delight with which the +sixteen-year-old boy received this offer. It is a proof of Pope's +patience as well as his precocity that he delayed three years before +accepting it. It was not till 1709 that his first published verses, the +<i>Pastorals</i>, a fragment translated from Homer, and a modernized +version of one of the <i>Canterbury Tales</i>, appeared in Tonson's +<i>Miscellany</i>.<br> +<br> +With the publication of the <i>Pastorals</i>, Pope embarked upon his +life as a man of letters. They seem to have brought him a certain +recognition, but hardly fame. That he obtained by his next poem, the +<i>Essay on Criticism</i>, which appeared in 1711. It was applauded in +the <i>Spectator</i>, and Pope seems about this time to have made the +acquaintance of Addison and the little senate which met in Button's +coffee house. His poem the <i>Messiah</i> appeared in the +<i>Spectator</i> in May 1712; the first draft of <i>The Rape of the +Lock</i> in a poetical miscellany in the same year, and Addison's +request, in 1713, that he compose a prologue for the tragedy of +<i>Cato</i> set the final stamp upon his rank as a poet.<br> +<br> +Pope's friendly relations with Addison and his circle were not, however, +long continued. In the year 1713 he gradually drew away from them and +came under the influence of Swift, then at the height of his power in +political and social life. Swift introduced him to the brilliant Tories, +politicians and lovers of letters, Harley, Bolingbroke, and Atterbury, +who were then at the head of affairs. Pope's new friends seem to have +treated him with a deference which he had never experienced before, and +which bound him to them in unbroken affection. Harley used to regret +that Pope's religion rendered him legally incapable of holding a +sinecure office in the government, such as was frequently bestowed in +those days upon men of letters, and Swift jestingly offered the young +poet twenty guineas to become a Protestant. But now, as later, Pope was +firmly resolved not to abandon the faith of his parents for the sake of +worldly advantage. And in order to secure the independence he valued so +highly he resolved to embark upon the great work of his life, the +translation of Homer. + +<blockquote>"What led me into that," he told a friend long after, "was purely the +want of money. I had then none; not even to buy books." </blockquote> + +It seems that +about this time, 1713, Pope's father had experienced some heavy +financial losses, and the poet, whose receipts in money had so far been +by no means in proportion to the reputation his works had brought him, +now resolved to use that reputation as a means of securing from the +public a sum which would at least keep him for life from poverty or the +necessity of begging for patronage. It is worth noting that Pope was the +first Englishman of letters who threw himself thus boldly upon the +public and earned his living by his pen.<br> +<br> +The arrangements for the publication and sale of Pope's translation of +Homer were made with care and pushed on with enthusiasm. He issued in +1713 his proposals for an edition to be published by subscription, and +his friends at once became enthusiastic canvassers. We have a +characteristic picture of Swift at this time, bustling about a crowded +ante-chamber, and informing the company that the best poet in England +was Mr. Pope (a Papist) who had begun a translation of Homer for which +they must all subscribe, "for," says he, "the author shall not begin to +print till I have a thousand guineas for him." The work was to be in six +volumes, each costing a guinea. Pope obtained 575 subscribers, many of +whom took more than one set. Lintot, the publisher, gave Pope £1200 for +the work and agreed to supply the subscription copies free of charge. As +a result Pope made something between £5000 and £6000, a sum absolutely +unprecedented in the history of English literature, and amply sufficient +to make him independent for life.<br> +<br> +But the sum was honestly earned by hard and wearisome work. Pope was no +Greek scholar; it is said, indeed, that he was just able to make out the +sense of the original with a translation. And in addition to the fifteen +thousand lines of the <i>Iliad</i>, he had engaged to furnish an +introduction and notes. At first the magnitude of the undertaking +frightened him. + +<blockquote>"What terrible moments," he said to Spence, "does one +feel after one has engaged for a large work. In the beginning of my +translating the <i>Iliad</i>, I wished anybody would hang me a hundred +times. It sat so heavily on my mind at first that I often used to dream +of it and do sometimes still."</blockquote> + +In spite of his discouragement, however, +and of the ill health which so constantly beset him, Pope fell gallantly +upon his task, and as time went on came almost to enjoy it. He used to +translate thirty or forty verses in the morning before rising and, in +his own characteristic phrase, "piddled over them for the rest of the +day." He used every assistance possible, drew freely upon the +scholarship of friends, corrected and recorrected with a view to +obtaining clearness and point, and finally succeeded in producing a +version which not only satisfied his own critical judgment, but was at +once accepted by the English-speaking world as the standard translation +of Homer.<br> +<br> +The first volume came out in June, 1715, and to Pope's dismay and wrath +a rival translation appeared almost simultaneously. Tickell, one of +Addison's "little senate," had also begun a translation of the +<i>Iliad</i>, and although he announced in the preface that he intended +to withdraw in favor of Pope and take up a translation of the +<i>Odyssey</i>, the poet's suspicions were at once aroused. And they +were quickly fanned into a flame by the gossip of the town which +reported that Addison, the recognized authority in literary criticism, +pronounced Tickell's version "the best that ever was in any language." +Rumor went so far, in fact, as to hint pretty broadly that Addison +himself was the author, in part, at least, of Tickell's book; and Pope, +who had been encouraged by Addison to begin his long task, felt at once +that he had been betrayed. His resentment was all the more bitter since +he fancied that Addison, now at the height of his power and prosperity +in the world of letters and of politics, had attempted to ruin an +enterprise on which the younger man had set all his hopes of success and +independence, for no better reason than literary jealousy and political +estrangement. We know now that Pope was mistaken, but there was beyond +question some reason at the time for his thinking as he did, and it is +to the bitterness which this incident caused in his mind that we owe the +famous satiric portrait of Addison as Atticus.<br> +<br> +The last volume of the <i>Iliad</i> appeared in the spring of 1720, and +in it Pope gave a renewed proof of his independence by dedicating the +whole work, not to some lord who would have rewarded him with a handsome +present, but to his old acquaintance, Congreve, the last survivor of the +brilliant comic dramatists of Dryden's day. And now resting for a time +from his long labors, Pope turned to the adornment and cultivation of +the little house and garden that he had leased at Twickenham.<br> +<br> +Pope's father had died in 1717, and the poet, rejecting politely but +firmly the suggestion of his friend, Atterbury, that he might now turn +Protestant, devoted himself with double tenderness to the care of his +aged and infirm mother. He brought her with him to Twickenham, where she +lived till 1733, dying in that year at the great age of ninety-one. It +may have been partly on her account that Pope pitched upon Twickenham as +his abiding place. Beautifully situated on the banks of the Thames, it +was at once a quiet country place and yet of easy access to London, to +Hampton Court, or to Kew. The five acres of land that lay about the +house furnished Pope with inexhaustible entertainment for the rest of +his life. He "twisted and twirled and harmonized" his bit of ground +"till it appeared two or three sweet little lawns opening and opening +beyond one another, the whole surrounded by impenetrable woods." +Following the taste of his times in landscape gardening, he adorned his +lawns with artificial mounds, a shell temple, an obelisk, and a +colonnade. But the crowning glory was the grotto, a tunnel decorated +fantastically with shells and bits of looking-glass, which Pope dug +under a road that ran through his grounds. Here Pope received in state, +and his house and garden was for years the center of the most brilliant +society in England. Here Swift came on his rare visits from Ireland, and +Bolingbroke on his return from exile. Arbuthnot, Pope's beloved +physician, was a frequent visitor, and Peterborough, one of the most +distinguished of English soldiers, condescended to help lay out the +garden. Congreve came too, at times, and Gay, the laziest and most +good-natured of poets. Nor was the society of women lacking at these +gatherings. Lady Mary Wortley Montague, the wittiest woman in England, +was often there, until her bitter quarrel with the poet; the grim old +Duchess of Marlborough appeared once or twice in Pope's last years; and +the Princess of Wales came with her husband to inspire the leaders of +the opposition to the hated Walpole and the miserly king. And from first +to last, the good angel of the place was the blue-eyed, sweet-tempered +Patty Blount, Pope's best and dearest friend. + +Not long after the completion of the <i>Iliad</i>, Pope undertook to +edit Shakespeare, and completed the work in 1724. The edition is, of +course, quite superseded now, but it has its place in the history of +Shakespearean studies as the first that made an effort, though irregular +and incomplete, to restore the true text by collation and conjecture. It +has its place, too, in the story of Pope's life, since the bitter +criticism which it received, all the more unpleasant to the poet since +it was in the main true, was one of the principal causes of his writing +the <i>Dunciad</i>. Between the publication of his edition of +Shakespeare, however, and the appearance of the <i>Dunciad</i>, Pope +resolved to complete his translation of Homer, and with the assistance +of a pair of friends, got out a version of the Odyssey in 1725. Like the +<i>Iliad</i>, this was published by subscription, and as in the former +case the greatest men in England were eager to show their appreciation +of the poet by filling up his lists. Sir Robert Walpole, the great Whig +statesman, took ten copies, and Harley, the fallen Tory leader, put +himself, his wife, and his daughter down for sixteen. Pope made, it is +said, about £3700 by this work.<br> +<br> +In 1726, Swift visited Pope and encouraged him to complete a satire +which he seems already to have begun on the dull critics and hack +writers of the day. For one cause or another its publication was +deferred until 1728, when it appeared under the title of the +<i>Dunciad</i>. Here Pope declared open war upon his enemies. All those +who had attacked his works, abused his character, or scoffed at his +personal deformities, were caricatured as ridiculous and sometimes +disgusting figures in a mock epic poem celebrating the accession of a +new monarch to the throne of Dullness. The <i>Dunciad</i> is little read +to-day except by professed students of English letters, but it made, +naturally enough, a great stir at the time and vastly provoked the wrath +of all the dunces whose names it dragged to light. Pope has often been +blamed for stooping to such ignoble combat, and in particular for the +coarseness of his abuse, and for his bitter jests upon the poverty of +his opponents. But it must be remembered that no living writer had been +so scandalously abused as Pope, and no writer that ever lived was by +nature so quick to feel and to resent insult. The undoubted coarseness +of the work is in part due to the gross license of the times in speech +and writing, and more particularly to the influence of Swift, at this +time predominant over Pope. And in regard to Pope's trick of taunting +his enemies with poverty, it must frankly be confessed that he seized +upon this charge as a ready and telling weapon. Pope was at heart one of +the most charitable of men. In the days of his prosperity he is said to +have given away one eighth of his income. And he was always quick to +succor merit in distress; he pensioned the poet Savage and he tried to +secure patronage for Johnson. But for the wretched hack writers of the +common press who had barked against him he had no mercy, and he struck +them with the first rod that lay ready to his hands.<br> +<br> +During his work on the <i>Dunciad</i>, Pope came into intimate relations +with Bolingbroke, who in 1725 had returned from his long exile in France +and had settled at Dawley within easy reach of Pope's villa at +Twickenham. Bolingbroke was beyond doubt one of the most brilliant and +stimulating minds of his age. Without depth of intellect or solidity of +character, he was at once a philosopher, a statesman, a scholar, and a +fascinating talker. Pope, who had already made his acquaintance, was +delighted to renew and improve their intimacy, and soon came wholly +under the influence of his splendid friend. It is hardly too much to say +that all the rest of Pope's work is directly traceable to Bolingbroke. +The <i>Essay on Man</i> was built up on the precepts of Bolingbroke's +philosophy; the <i>Imitations of Horace</i> were undertaken at +Bolingbroke's suggestion; and the whole tone of Pope's political and +social satire during the years from 1731 to 1738 reflects the spirit of +that opposition to the administration of Walpole and to the growing +influence of the commercial class, which was at once inspired and +directed by Bolingbroke. And yet it is exactly in the work of this +period that we find the best and with perhaps one exception, the +<i>Essay on Man</i>, the most original, work of Pope. He has obtained an +absolute command over his instrument of expression. In his hands the +heroic couplet sings, and laughs, and chats, and thunders. He has turned +from the ignoble warfare with the dunces to satirize courtly frivolity +and wickedness in high places. And most important of all to the student +of Pope, it is in these last works that his personality is most clearly +revealed. It has been well said that the best introduction to the study +of Pope, the man, is to get the <i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i> by heart.<br> +<br> +Pope gradually persuaded himself that all the works of these years, the +<i>Essay on Man</i>, the <i>Satires, Epistles</i>, and <i>Moral +Essays</i>, were but parts of one stupendous whole. He told Spence in the +last years of his life: + +<blockquote>"I had once thought of completing my ethic work +in four books. — The first, you know, is on the Nature of Man [the +<i>Essay on Man</i>]; the second would have been on knowledge and its +limits — here would have come in an Essay on Education, part of which I +have inserted in the <i>Dunciad</i> [<i>i.e.</i> in the Fourth Book, +published in 1742]. The third was to have treated of Government, both +ecclesiastical and civil — and this was what chiefly stopped my going on. +I could not have said what <i>I would</i> have said without provoking +every church on the face of the earth; and I did not care for living +always in boiling water. — This part would have come into my +<i>Brutus</i> [an epic poem which Pope never completed], which is +planned already. The fourth would have been on Morality; in eight or +nine of the most concerning branches of it."</blockquote> + +It is difficult, if not impossible, to believe that Pope with his +irregular methods of work and illogical habit of thought had planned so +vast and elaborate a system before he began its execution. It is far +more likely that he followed his old method of composing on the +inspiration of the moment, and produced the works in question with +little thought of their relation or interdependence. But in the last +years of his life, when he had made the acquaintance of Warburton, and +was engaged in reviewing and perfecting the works of this period, he +noticed their general similarity in form and spirit, and, possibly under +Warburton's influence, conceived the notion of combining and +supplementing them to form that "Greater Essay on Man" of which he spoke +to Spence, and of which Warburton himself has given us a detailed +account.<br> +<br> +Warburton, a wide-read, pompous, and polemical clergyman, had introduced +himself to the notice of Pope by a defense of the philosophical and +religious principles of the <i>Essay on Man</i>. In spite of the +influence of the free-thinking Bolingbroke, Pope still remained a member +of the Catholic church and sincerely believed himself to be an orthodox, +though liberal, Christian, and he had, in consequence, been greatly +disconcerted by a criticism of his poem published in Switzerland and +lately translated into English. Its author, Pierre de Crousaz, +maintained, and with a considerable degree of truth, that the principles +of Pope's poem if pushed to their logical conclusion were destructive to +religion and would rank their author rather among atheists than +defenders of the faith. The very word "atheist" was at that day +sufficient to put the man to whom it was applied beyond the pale of +polite society, and Pope, who quite lacked the ability to refute in +logical argument the attack of de Crousaz, was proportionately delighted +when Warburton came forward in his defense, and in a series of letters +asserted that Pope's whole intention was to vindicate the ways of God to +man, and that de Crousaz had mistaken his purpose and misunderstood his +language. Pope's gratitude to his defender knew no bounds; he declared +that Warburton understood the <i>Essay</i> better than he did himself; +he pronounced him the greatest critic he ever knew, secured an +introduction to him, introduced him to his own rich and influential +friends, in short made the man's fortune for him outright. When the +University of Oxford hesitated to give Warburton, who had never attended +a university, the degree of D.D., Pope declined to accept the degree of +D.C.L. which had been offered him at the same time, and wrote the Fourth +Book of the <i>Dunciad</i> to satirize the stupidity of the university +authorities. In conjunction with Warburton he proceeded further to +revise the whole poem, for which his new friend wrote notes and a +ponderous introduction, and made the capital mistake of substituting the +frivolous, but clever, Colley Gibber, with whom he had recently become +embroiled, for his old enemy, Theobald, as the hero. And the last year +of his life was spent in getting out new editions of his poems +accompanied by elaborate commentaries from the pen of Warburton.<br> +<br> +In the spring of 1744, it was evident that Pope was failing fast. In +addition to his other ailments he was now attacked by an asthmatical +dropsy, which no efforts of his physicians could remove. Yet he +continued to work almost to the last, and distributed copies of his +<i>Ethic Epistles</i> to his friends about three weeks before his death, +with the smiling remark that like the dying Socrates he was dispensing +his morality among his friends. His mind began to wander; he complained +that he saw all things as through a curtain, and told Spence once "with +a smile of great pleasure and with the greatest softness" that he had +seen a vision. His friends were devoted in their attendance. Bolingbroke +sat weeping by his chair, and on Spence's remarking how Pope with every +rally was always saying something kindly of his friends, replied: + +<blockquote>"I +never in my life knew a man that had so tender a heart for his +particular friends, or a more general friendship for mankind. I have +known him these thirty years; and value myself more for that man's love +than"</blockquote> + + — here his head dropped and his voice broke in tears. It was +noticed that whenever Patty Blount came into the room, the dying flame +of life flashed up in a momentary glow. At the very end a friend +reminded Pope that as a professed Catholic he ought to send for a +priest. The dying man replied that he did not believe it essential, but +thanked him for the suggestion. When the priest appeared, Pope attempted +to rise from his bed that he might receive the sacrament kneeling, and +the priest came out from the sick room "penetrated to the last degree +with the state of mind in which he found his penitent, resigned and +wrapt up in the love of God and man." The hope that sustained Pope to +the end was that of immortality. + +<blockquote>"I am so certain of the soul's being +immortal," he whispered, almost with his last breath, "that I seem to +feel it within me, as it were by intuition."</blockquote> + +He died on the evening of +May 30, so quietly that his friends hardly knew that the end had come. +He was buried in Twickenham Church, near the monument he had erected to +his parents, and his coffin was carried to the grave by six of the +poorest men of the parish.<br> +<br> +It is plain even from so slight a sketch as this that the common +conception of Pope as "the wicked wasp of Twickenham," a bitter, +jealous, and malignant spirit, is utterly out of accord with the facts +of his life. Pope's faults of character lie on the surface, and the most +perceptible is that which has done him most harm in the eyes of +English-speaking men. He was by nature, perhaps by training also, +untruthful. If he seldom stooped to an outright lie, he never hesitated +to equivocate; and students of his life have found that it is seldom +possible to take his word on any point where his own works or interests +were concerned. I have already attempted to point out the +probable cause of this defect; and it is, moreover, worth while to +remark that Pope's manifold intrigues and evasions were mainly of the +defensive order. He plotted and quibbled not so much to injure others as +to protect himself. To charge Pope with treachery to his friends, as has +sometimes been done, is wholly to misunderstand his character.<br> +<br> +Another flaw, one can hardly call it a vice, in Pope's character was his +constant practice of considering everything that came in his way as +copy. It was this which led him to reclaim his early letters from his +friends, to alter, rewrite, and redate them, utterly unconscious of the +trouble which he was preparing for his future biographers. The letters, +he thought, were good reading but not so good as he could make them, and +he set to work to improve them with all an artist's zeal, and without a +trace of a historian's care for facts. It was this which led him to +embody in his description of a rich fool's splendid house and park +certain unmistakable traces of a living nobleman's estate and to start +in genuine amazement and regret when the world insisted on identifying +the nobleman and the fool. And when Pope had once done a good piece of +work, he had all an artist's reluctance to destroy it. He kept bits of +verse by him for years and inserted them into appropriate places in his +poems. This habit it was that brought about perhaps the gravest charge +that has ever been made against Pope, that of accepting £1000 to +suppress a satiric portrait of the old Duchess of Marlborough, and yet +of publishing it in a revision of a poem that he was engaged on just +before his death. The truth seems to be that Pope had drawn this +portrait in days when he was at bitter enmity with the Duchess, and +after the reconcilement that took place, unwilling to suppress it +entirely, had worked it over, and added passages out of keeping with the +first design, but pointing to another lady with whom he was now at odds. +Pope's behavior, we must admit, was not altogether creditable, but it +was that of an artist reluctant to throw away good work, not that of a +ruffian who stabs a woman he has taken money to spare.<br> +<br> +Finally Pope was throughout his life, and notably in his later years, +the victim of an irritable temper and a quick, abusive tongue. His +irritability sprang in part, we may believe, from his physical +sufferings, even more, however, from the exquisitely sensitive heart +which made him feel a coarse insult as others would a blow. And of the +coarseness of the insults that were heaped upon Pope no one except the +careful student of his life can have any conception. His genius, his +morals, his person, his parents, and his religion were overwhelmed in +one indiscriminate flood of abuse. Too high spirited to submit tamely to +these attacks, too irritable to laugh at them, he struck back, and his +weapon was personal satire which cut like a whip and left a brand like a +hot iron. And if at times, as in the case of Addison, Pope was mistaken +in his object and assaulted one who was in no sense his enemy, the fault +lies not so much in his alleged malice as in the unhappy state of +warfare in which he lived.<br> +<br> +Over against the faults of Pope we may set more than one noble +characteristic. The sensitive heart and impulsive temper that led him so +often into bitter warfare, made him also most susceptible to kindness +and quick to pity suffering. He was essentially of a tender and loving +nature, a devoted son, and a loyal friend, unwearied in acts of kindness +and generosity. His ruling passion, to use his own phrase, was a +devotion to letters, and he determined as early and worked as diligently +to make himself a poet as ever Milton did. His wretched body was +dominated by a high and eager mind, and he combined in an unparalleled +degree the fiery energy of the born poet with the tireless patience of +the trained artist.<br> +<br> +But perhaps the most remarkable characteristic of Pope is his manly +independence. In an age when almost without exception his fellow-writers +stooped to accept a great man's patronage or sold their talents into the +slavery of politics, Pope stood aloof from patron and from party. He +repeatedly declined offers of money that were made him, even when no +condition was attached. He refused to change his religion, though he was +far from being a devout Catholic, in order to secure a comfortable +place. He relied upon his genius alone for his support, and his genius +gave him all that he asked, a modest competency. His relations with his +rich and powerful friends were marked by the same independent spirit. He +never cringed or flattered, but met them on even terms, and raised +himself by merit alone from his position as the unknown son of an humble +shopkeeper to be the friend and associate of the greatest fortunes and +most powerful minds in England. It is not too much to say that the +career of a man of letters as we know it to-day, a career at once +honorable and independent, takes its rise from the life and work of +Alexander Pope.<br> +<br> +The long controversies that have raged about Pope's rank as a poet seem +at last to be drawing to a close; and it has become possible to strike a +balance between the exaggerated praise of his contemporaries and the +reckless depreciation of romantic critics. That he is not a poet of the +first order is plain, if for no other reason than that he never produced +a work in any of the greatest forms of poetry. The drama, the epic, the +lyric, were all outside his range. On the other hand, unless a +definition of poetry be framed — and Dr. Johnson has well remarked that +"to circumscribe poetry by a definition will only show the narrowness of +the definer" — which shall exclude all gnomic and satiric verse, and so +debar the claims of Hesiod, Juvenal, and Boileau, it is impossible to +deny that Pope is a true poet. Certain qualities of the highest poet +Pope no doubt lacked, lofty imagination, intense passion, wide human +sympathy. But within the narrow field which he marked out for his own he +approaches perfection as nearly as any English poet, and Pope's merit +consists not merely in the smoothness of his verse or the polish of +separate epigrams, as is so often stated, but quite as much in the vigor +of his conceptions and the unity and careful proportion of each poem as +a whole. It is not too much to say that <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> is +one of the best-planned poems in any language. It is as symmetrical and +exquisitely finished as a Grecian temple.<br> +<br> +Historically Pope represents the fullest embodiment of that spirit which +began to appear in English literature about the middle of the +seventeenth century, and which we are accustomed to call the "classical" +spirit. In essence this movement was a protest against the irregularity +and individual license of earlier poets. Instead of far-fetched wit and +fanciful diction, the classical school erected the standards of common +sense in conception and directness in expression. And in so doing they +restored poetry which had become the diversion of the few to the +possession of the many. Pope, for example, is preeminently the poet of +his time. He dealt with topics that were of general interest to the +society in which he lived; he pictured life as he saw it about him. And +this accounts for his prompt and general acceptance by the world of his +day.<br> +<br> +For the student of English literature Pope's work has a threefold value. +It represents the highest achievement of one of the great movements in +the developments of English verse. It reflects with unerring accuracy +the life and thought of his time — not merely the outward life of beau +and belle in the days of Queen Anne, but the ideals of the age in art, +philosophy, and politics. And finally it teaches as hardly any other +body of English verse can be said to do, the perennial value of +conscious and controlling art. Pope's work lives and will live while +English poetry is read, not because of its inspiration, imagination, or +depth of thought, but by its unity of design, vigor of expression, and +perfection of finish — by those qualities, in short, which show the poet +as an artist in verse. <br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> +<br> + +<a name="dates"></a><h4>Chief Dates In Pope's Life</h4><br> +<table summary="dates in Pope's life" cellspacing="20" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1688</td> + <td>Born, May 21</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1700</td> + <td>Moves to Binfield</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1709</td> + <td><i>Pastorals</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1711</td> + <td><i>Essay on Criticism</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1711-12</td> + <td>Contributes to <i>Spectator</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1712</td> + <td><i>Rape of the Lock</i>, first form</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1713</td> + <td><i>Windsor Forest</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1713</td> + <td>Issues proposals for translation of Homer</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1714</td> + <td><i>Rape of the Lock</i>, second form</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1715</td> + <td>First volume of the <i>Iliad</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1715</td> + <td><i>Temple of Fame</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1717</td> + <td>Pope's father dies</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1717</td> + <td><i>Works</i>, including some new poems</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1719</td> + <td>Settles at Twickenham</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1720</td> + <td>Sixth and last volume of the <i>Iliad</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1722</td> + <td>Begins translation of <i>Odyssey</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1725</td> + <td>Edits Shakespeare</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1726</td> + <td>Finishes translation of <i>Odyssey</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1727-8</td> + <td><i>Miscellanies</i> by Pope and Swift</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1728-9</td> + <td><i>Dunciad</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1731-2</td> + <td><i>Moral Essays</i>: <i>Of Taste</i>, <i>Of the Use of Riches</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1733-4 </td> + <td><i>Essay on Man</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1733-8 </td> + <td><i>Satires and Epistles</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1735</td> + <td><i>Works</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1735</td> + <td><i>Letters</i> published by Curll</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1741</td> + <td><i>Works in Prose</i>; vol. II. includes the correspondence with Swift</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1742</td> + <td>Fourth book of <i>Dunciad</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1742</td> + <td>Revised <i>Dunciad</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1744</td> + <td>Died, May 30</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>1751</td> + <td>First collected edition, published by Warburton, 9 vols.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<a name="section1"></a><h2>The Rape of the Lock</h2> +<br> +<h3>An heroi-comical poem</h3><br> + +<blockquote><i>Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos; <br> +Sed juvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis.</i><br> +<br> +Mart, [<i>Epigr</i>, XII. 84.] </blockquote><br> +<br> +To Mrs. Arabella Fermor <br> +<br> +Madam,<br> +<br> +It will be in vain to deny that I have some regard for this piece, since +I dedicate it to You. Yet you may bear me witness, it was intended only +to divert a few young Ladies, who have good sense and good humour enough +to laugh not only at their sex's little unguarded follies, but at their +own. But as it was communicated with the air of a Secret, it soon found +its way into the world. An imperfect copy having been offer'd to a +Bookseller, you had the good-nature for my sake to consent to the +publication of one more correct: This I was forc'd to, before I had +executed half my design, for the Machinery was entirely wanting to +compleat it.<br> +<br> +The Machinery, Madam, is a term invented by the Critics, to signify that +part which the Deities, Angels, or Dĉmons are made to act in a Poem: +For the ancient Poets are in one respect like many modern Ladies: let an +action be never so trivial in itself, they always make it appear of the +utmost importance. These Machines I determined to raise on a very new +and odd foundation, the Rosicrucian doctrine of Spirits.<br> +<br> +I know how disagreeable it is to make use of hard words before a Lady; +but't is so much the concern of a Poet to have his works understood, and +particularly by your Sex, that you must give me leave to explain two or +three difficult terms.<br> +<br> +The Rosicrucians are a people I must bring you acquainted with. The best +account I know of them is in a French book call'd <i>Le Comte de +Gabalis</i>, which both in its title and size is so like a Novel, that +many of the Fair Sex have read it for one by mistake. According to these +Gentlemen, the four Elements are inhabited by Spirits, which they call +Sylphs, Gnomes, Nymphs, and Salamanders. The Gnomes or Dĉmons of Earth +delight in mischief; but the Sylphs whose habitation is in the Air, are +the best-condition'd creatures imaginable. For they say, any mortals may +enjoy the most intimate familiarities with these gentle Spirits, upon a +condition very easy to all true Adepts, an inviolate preservation of +Chastity.<br> +<br> +As to the following Canto's, all the passages of them are as fabulous, +as the Vision at the beginning, or the Transformation at the end; +(except the loss of your Hair, which I always mention with reverence). +The Human persons are as fictitious as the airy ones; and the character +of Belinda, as it is now manag'd, resembles you in nothing but in +Beauty.<br> +<br> +If this Poem had as many Graces as there are in your Person, or in your +Mind, yet I could never hope it should pass thro' the world half so +Uncensur'd as You have done. But let its fortune be what it will, mine +is happy enough, to have given me this occasion of assuring you that I +am, with the truest esteem, Madam,<br> +<br> +Your most obedient, Humble Servant,<br> +<br> +A. Pope<br> +<br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<h3>Canto I</h3><br> + +<table summary="Canto I" cellspacing="50" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="90%">What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, <br> +What mighty contests rise from trivial things, <br> +I sing — This verse to <b>Caryl</b>, Muse! is due: <br> +This, ev'n Belinda may vouchsafe to view: <br> +Slight is the subject, but not so the praise,<br> +If She inspire, and He approve my lays. <br><br> + +Say what strange motive, Goddess! could compel<br> +A well-bred Lord t' assault a gentle Belle?<br> +O say what stranger cause, yet unexplor'd,<br> +Could make a gentle Belle reject a Lord?<br> +In tasks so bold, can little men engage,<br> +And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty Rage? <br><br> + +Sol thro' white curtains shot a tim'rous ray,<br> +And oped those eyes that must eclipse the day:<br> +Now lap-dogs give themselves the rousing shake,<br> +And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake:<br> +Thrice rung the bell, the slipper knock'd the ground,<br> +And the press'd watch return'd a silver sound.<br> +Belinda still her downy pillow prest, <br> +Her guardian <b>Sylph</b> prolong'd the balmy rest:<br> +'Twas He had summon'd to her silent bed<br> +The morning-dream that hover'd o'er her head;<br> +A Youth more glitt'ring than a Birth-night Beau,<br> +(That ev'n in slumber caus'd her cheek to glow)<br> +Seem'd to her ear his winning lips to lay,<br> +And thus in whispers said, or seem'd to say. <br> +Fairest of mortals, thou distinguish'd care<br> +Of thousand bright Inhabitants of Air! <br> +If e'er one vision touch.'d thy infant thought, <br> +Of all the Nurse and all the Priest have taught;<br> +Of airy Elves by moonlight shadows seen, <br> +The silver token, and the circled green, <br> +Or virgins visited by Angel-pow'rs, <br> +With golden crowns and wreaths of heav'nly flow'rs; <br> +Hear and believe! thy own importance know,<br> +Nor bound thy narrow views to things below. <br> +Some secret truths, from learned pride conceal'd,<br> +To Maids alone and Children are reveal'd:<br> +What tho' no credit doubting Wits may give? <br> +The Fair and Innocent shall still believe.<br> +Know, then, unnumber'd Spirits round thee fly, <br> +The light Militia of the lower sky: <br> +These, tho' unseen, are ever on the wing, <br> +Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring. <br> +Think what an equipage thou hast in Air,<br> +And view with scorn two Pages and a Chair. <br> +As now your own, our beings were of old, <br> +And once inclos'd in Woman's beauteous mould; <br> +Thence, by a soft transition, we repair <br> +From earthly Vehicles to these of air.<br> +Think not, when Woman's transient breath is fled <br> +That all her vanities at once are dead; <br> +Succeeding vanities she still regards, <br> +And tho' she plays no more, o'erlooks the cards. <br> +Her joy in gilded Chariots, when alive,<br> +And love of Ombre, after death survive. <br> +For when the Fair in all their pride expire, <br> +To their first Elements their Souls retire: <br> +The Sprites of fiery Termagants in Flame <br> +Mount up, and take a Salamander's name.<br> +Soft yielding minds to Water glide away, <br> +And sip, with Nymphs, their elemental Tea. <br> +The graver Prude sinks downward to a Gnome, <br> +In search of mischief still on Earth to roam. <br> +The light Coquettes in Sylphs aloft repair,<br> +And sport and flutter in the fields of Air. <br><br> + +"Know further yet; whoever fair and chaste<br> +Rejects mankind, is by some Sylph embrac'd:<br> +For Spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease<br> +Assume what sexes and what shapes they please.<br> +What guards the purity of melting Maids,<br> +In courtly balls, and midnight masquerades,<br> +Safe from the treach'rous friend, the daring spark,<br> +The glance by day, the whisper in the dark,<br> +When kind occasion prompts their warm desires,<br> +When music softens, and when dancing fires?<br> +'Tis but their Sylph, the wise Celestials know,<br> +Tho' Honour is the word with Men below. <br><br> + +Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their face,<br> +For life predestin'd to the Gnomes' embrace.<br> +These swell their prospects and exalt their pride,<br> +When offers are disdain'd, and love deny'd:<br> +Then gay Ideas crowd the vacant brain,<br> +While Peers, and Dukes, and all their sweeping train,<br> +And Garters, Stars, and Coronets appear,<br> +And in soft sounds, Your Grace salutes their ear.<br> +'T is these that early taint the female soul,<br> +Instruct the eyes of young Coquettes to roll,<br> +Teach Infant-cheeks a bidden blush to know,<br> +And little hearts to flutter at a Beau.<br><br> + +Oft, when the world imagine women stray,<br> +The Sylphs thro' mystic mazes guide their way,<br> +Thro' all the giddy circle they pursue,<br> +And old impertinence expel by new. <br> +What tender maid but must a victim fall<br> +To one man's treat, but for another's ball? <br> +When Florio speaks what virgin could withstand, <br> +If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand? <br> +With varying vanities, from ev'ry part, <br> +They shift the moving Toyshop of their heart;<br> +Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots strive, <br> +Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive. <br> +This erring mortals Levity may call; <br> +Oh blind to truth! the Sylphs contrive it all. <br><br> + +Of these am I, who thy protection claim,<br> +A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name.<br> +Late, as I rang'd the crystal wilds of air,<br> +In the clear Mirror of thy ruling Star<br> +I saw, alas! some dread event impend, <br> +Ere to the main this morning sun descend,<br> +But heav'n reveals not what, or how, or where:<br> +Warn'd by the Sylph, oh pious maid, beware!<br> +This to disclose is all thy guardian can:<br> +Beware of all, but most beware of Man!"<br><br> + +He said; when Shock, who thought she slept too long,<br> +Leap'd up, and wak'd his mistress with his tongue.<br> +'T was then, Belinda, if report say true,<br> +Thy eyes first open'd on a Billet-doux;<br> +Wounds, Charms, and Ardors were no sooner read,<br> +But all the Vision vanish'd from thy head.<br><br> + +And now, unveil'd, the Toilet stands display'd,<br> +Each silver Vase in mystic order laid.<br> +First, rob'd in white, the Nymph intent adores,<br> +With head uncover'd, the Cosmetic pow'rs.<br> +A heav'nly image in the glass appears,<br> +To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears;<br> +Th' inferior Priestess, at her altar's side, <br> +Trembling begins the sacred rites of Pride. <br> +Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here <br> +The various off'rings of the world appear;<br> +From each she nicely culls with curious toil, <br> +And decks the Goddess with the glitt'ring spoil. <br> +This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, <br> +And all Arabia breathes from yonder box. <br> +The Tortoise here and Elephant unite,<br> +Transformed to combs, the speckled, and the white. <br> +Here files of pins extend their shining rows, <br> +Puffs, Powders, Patches, Bibles, Billet-doux. <br> +Now awful Beauty puts on all its arms; <br> +The fair each moment rises in her charms,<br> +Repairs her smiles, awakens ev'ry grace, <br> +And calls forth all the wonders of her face; <br> +Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, <br> +And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes. <br> +The busy Sylphs surround their darling care,<br> +These set the head, and those divide the hair, <br> +Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown: <br> +And Betty's prais'd for labours not her own. </td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<h3>Canto II</h3><br> + +<table summary="Canto II" width="75%" cellspacing="50" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="90%">Not with more glories, in th' etherial plain, <br> +The Sun first rises o'er the purpled main, <br> +Than, issuing forth, the rival of his beams <br> +Launch'd on the bosom of the silver Thames. <br> +Fair Nymphs, and well-drest Youths around her shone.<br> +But ev'ry eye was fix'd on her alone. <br> +On her white breast a sparkling Cross she wore, <br> +Which Jews might kiss, and Infidels adore. <br> +Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose, <br> +Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those:<br> +Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; <br> +Oft she rejects, but never once offends. <br> +Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, <br> +And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. <br> +Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride,<br> +Might hide her faults, if Belles had faults to hide: <br> +If to her share some female errors fall, <br> +Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all. <br><br> + +This Nymph, to the destruction of mankind,<br> +Nourish'd two Locks, which graceful hung behind<br> +In equal curls, and well conspir'd to deck<br> +With shining ringlets the smooth iv'ry neck.<br> +Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains,<br> +And mighty hearts are held in slender chains.<br> +With hairy springes we the birds betray,<br> +Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey,<br> +Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare,<br> +And beauty draws us with a single hair. <br><br> + +Th' advent'rous Baron the bright locks admir'd;<br> +He saw, he wish'd, and to the prize aspir'd.<br> +Resolv'd to win, he meditates the way,<br> +By force to ravish, or by fraud betray;<br> +For when success a Lover's toil attends,<br> +Few ask, if fraud or force attain'd his ends. <br><br> + +For this, ere Phœbus rose, he had implor'd<br> +Propitious heav'n, and ev'ry pow'r ador'd,<br> +But chiefly Love — to Love an Altar built,<br> +Of twelve vast French Romances, neatly gilt.<br> +There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves;<br> +And all the trophies of his former loves;<br> +With tender Billet-doux he lights the pyre,<br> +And breathes three am'rous sighs to raise the fire. <br> +Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes <br> +Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize: <br> +The pow'rs gave ear, and granted half his pray'r,<br> +The rest, the winds dispers'd in empty air. <br><br> + +But now secure the painted vessel glides,<br> +The sun-beams trembling on the floating tides:<br> +While melting music steals upon the sky, <br> +And soften'd sounds along the waters die;<br> +Smooth flow the waves, the Zephyrs gently play,<br> +Belinda smil'd, and all the world was gay.<br> +All but the Sylph — with careful thoughts opprest,<br> +Th' impending woe sat heavy on his breast.<br> +He summons strait his Denizens of air;<br> +The lucid squadrons round the sails repair:<br> +Soft o'er the shrouds aërial whispers breathe,<br> +That seem'd but Zephyrs to the train beneath.<br> +Some to the sun their insect-wings unfold,<br> +Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold;<br> +Transparent forms, too fine for mortal sight,<br> +Their fluid bodies half dissolv'd in light,<br> +Loose to the wind their airy garments flew,<br> +Thin glitt'ring textures of the filmy dew,<br> +Dipt in the richest tincture of the skies,<br> +Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes,<br> +While ev'ry beam new transient colours flings,<br> +Colours that change whene'er they wave their wings.<br> +Amid the circle, on the gilded mast, <br> +Superior by the head, was Ariel plac'd;<br> +His purple pinions op'ning to the sun,<br> +He rais'd his azure wand, and thus begun. <br><br> + +Ye Sylphs and Sylphids, to your chief give ear!<br> +Fays, Fairies, Genii, Elves, and Dĉmons, hear!<br> +Ye know the spheres and various tasks assign'd<br> +By laws eternal to th' aërial kind. <br> +Some in the fields of purest Ĉther play, <br> +And bask and whiten in the blaze of day. <br> +Some guide the course of wand'ring orbs on high, <br> +Or roll the planets thro' the boundless sky.<br> +Some less refin'd, beneath the moon's pale light <br> +Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the night, <br> +Or suck the mists in grosser air below, <br> +Or dip their pinions in the painted bow, <br> +Or brew fierce tempests on the wintry main,<br> +Or o'er the glebe distil the kindly rain. <br> +Others on earth o'er human race preside, <br> +Watch all their ways, and all their actions guide: <br> +Of these the chief the care of Nations own, <br> +And guard with Arms divine the British Throne. <br> +<br> +Our humbler province is to tend the Fair,<br> +Not a less pleasing, tho' less glorious care;<br> +To save the powder from too rude a gale,<br> +Nor let th' imprison'd-essences exhale; <br> +To draw fresh colours from the vernal flow'rs;<br> +To steal from rainbows e'er they drop in show'rs<br> +A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs,<br> +Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs;<br> +Nay oft, in dreams, invention we bestow,<br> +To change a Flounce, or add a Furbelow.<br><br> + +This day, black Omens threat the brightest Fair,<br> +That e'er deserv'd a watchful spirit's care;<br> +Some dire disaster, or by force, or slight;<br> +But what, or where, the fates have wrapt in night.<br> +Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law,<br> +Or some frail China jar receive a flaw;<br> +Or stain her honour or her new brocade;<br> +Forget her pray'rs, or miss a masquerade;<br> +Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball; <br> +Or whether Heav'n has doom'd that Shock must fall.<br> +Haste, then, ye spirits! to your charge repair: <br> +The flutt'ring fan be Zephyretta's care; <br> +The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign; <br> +And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine; <br> +Do thou, Crispissa, tend her fav'rite Lock;<br> +Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock. <br><br> + +To fifty chosen Sylphs, of special note,<br> +We trust th' important charge, the Petticoat:<br> +Oft have we known that seven-fold fence to fail,<br> +Tho' stiff with hoops, and arm'd with ribs of whale;<br> +Form a strong line about the silver bound,<br> +And guard the wide circumference around. <br><br> + +Whatever spirit, careless of his charge,<br> +His post neglects, or leaves the fair at large,<br> +Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins,<br> +Be stopp'd in vials, or transfix'd with pins;<br> +Or plung'd in lakes of bitter washes lie,<br> +Or wedg'd whole ages in a bodkin's eye:<br> +Gums and Pomatums shall his flight restrain,<br> +While clogg'd he beats his silken wings in vain;<br> +Or Alum styptics with contracting pow'r<br> +Shrink his thin essence like a rivel'd flow'r:<br> +Or, as Ixion fix'd, the wretch shall feel<br> +The giddy motion of the whirling Mill, <br> +In fumes of burning Chocolate shall glow,<br> +And tremble at the sea that froths below! <br><br> + +He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend;<br> +Some, orb in orb, around the nymph extend;<br> +Some thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair;<br> +Some hang upon the pendants of her ear:<br> +With beating hearts the dire event they wait,<br> +Anxious, and trembling for the birth of Fate.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<h3>Canto III</h3><br> + +<table summary="Canto II" width="75%" cellspacing="50" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="90%">Close by those meads, for ever crown'd with flow'rs, <br> +Where Thames with pride surveys his rising tow'rs, <br> +There stands a structure of majestic frame, <br> +Which from the neighb'ring Hampton takes its name. <br> +Here Britain's statesmen oft the fall foredoom<br> +Of foreign Tyrants and of Nymphs at home; <br> +Here thou, great <b>Anna</b>! whom three realms obey. <br> +Dost sometimes counsel take — and sometimes Tea.<br> + <br> +Hither the heroes and the nymphs resort,<br> +To taste awhile the pleasures of a Court;<br> +In various talk th' instructive hours they past,<br> +Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last;<br> +One speaks the glory of the British Queen,<br> +And one describes a charming Indian screen;<br> +A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes;<br> +At ev'ry word a reputation dies.<br> +Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause of chat,<br> +With singing, laughing, ogling, and <i>all that</i>. <br><br> + +Mean while, declining from the noon of day,<br> +The sun obliquely shoots his burning ray; <br> +The hungry Judges soon the sentence sign,<br> +And wretches hang that jury-men may dine;<br> +The merchant from th' Exchange returns in peace,<br> +And the long labours of the Toilet cease. <br> +Belinda now, whom thirst of fame invites,<br> +Burns to encounter two advent'rous Knights,<br> +At Ombre singly to decide their doom;<br> +And swells her breast with conquests yet to come.<br> +Straight the three bands prepare in arms to join,<br> +Each band the number of the sacred nine.<br><br> + +Soon as she spreads her hand, th' aërial guard <br> +Descend, and sit on each important card: <br> +First Ariel perch'd upon a Matadore, <br> +Then each, according to the rank they bore; <br> +For Sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race,<br> +Are, as when women, wondrous fond of place. <br> +Behold, four Kings in majesty rever'd,<br> +With hoary whiskers and a forky beard;<br> +And four fair Queens whose hands sustain a flow'r,<br> +Th' expressive emblem of their softer pow'r;<br> +Four Knaves in garbs succinct, a trusty band,<br> +Caps on their heads, and halberts in their hand;<br> +And particolour'd troops, a shining train,<br> +Draw forth to combat on the velvet plain. <br><br> + +The skilful Nymph reviews her force with care:<br> +Let Spades be trumps! she said, and trumps they were. <br><br> + +Now move to war her sable Matadores,<br> +In show like leaders of the swarthy Moors.<br> +Spadillio first, unconquerable Lord! <br> +Led off two captive trumps, and swept the board.<br> +As many more Manillio forc'd to yield,<br> +And march'd a victor from the verdant field.<br> +Him Basto follow'd, but his fate more hard<br> +Gain'd but one trump and one Plebeian card.<br> +With his broad sabre next, a chief in years,<br> +The hoary Majesty of Spades appears,<br> +Puts forth one manly leg, to sight reveal'd,<br> +The rest, his many-colour'd robe conceal'd.<br> +The rebel Knave, who dares his prince engage,<br> +Proves the just victim of his royal rage.<br> +Ev'n mighty Pam, that Kings and Queens o'erthrew<br> +And mow'd down armies in the fights of Lu,<br> +Sad chance of war! now destitute of aid, <br> +Falls undistinguish'd by the victor spade! <br> + <br> +Thus far both armies to Belinda yield;<br> +Now to the Baron fate inclines the field.<br> +His warlike Amazon her host invades,<br> +Th' imperial consort of the crown of Spades.<br> +The Club's black Tyrant first her victim dy'd,<br> +Spite of his haughty mien, and barb'rous pride:<br> +What boots the regal circle on his head,<br> +His giant limbs, in state unwieldy spread;<br> +That long behind he trails his pompous robe,<br> +And, of all monarchs, only grasps the globe? <br> + <br> +The Baron now his Diamonds pours apace;<br> +Th' embroider'd King who shows but half his face,<br> +And his refulgent Queen, with pow'rs combin'd<br> +Of broken troops an easy conquest find.<br> +Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts, in wild disorder seen,<br> +With throngs promiscuous strow the level green.<br> +Thus when dispers'd a routed army runs,<br> +Of Asia's troops, and Afric's sable sons,<br> +With like confusion different nations fly,<br> +Of various habit, and of various dye, <br> +The pierc'd battalions dis-united fall,<br> +In heaps on heaps; one fate o'erwhelms them all. <br> + <br> +The Knave of Diamonds tries his wily arts,<br> +And wins (oh shameful chance!) the Queen of Hearts.<br> +At this, the blood the virgin's cheek forsook,<br> +A livid paleness spreads o'er all her look;<br> +She sees, and trembles at th' approaching ill,<br> +Just in the jaws of ruin, and Codille.<br> +And now (as oft in some distemper'd State)<br> +On one nice Trick depends the gen'ral fate.<br> +An Ace of Hearts steps forth: The King unseen<br> +Lurk'd in her hand, and mourn'd his captive Queen: <br> +He springs to Vengeance with an eager pace, <br> +And falls like thunder on the prostrate Ace. <br> +The nymph exulting fills with shouts the sky; <br> +The walls, the woods, and long canals reply.<br> + <br> +Oh thoughtless mortals! ever blind to fate,<br> +Too soon dejected, and too soon elate.<br> +Sudden, these honours shall be snatch'd away,<br> +And curs'd for ever this victorious day. <br> + <br> +For lo! the board with cups and spoons is crown'd,<br> +The berries crackle, and the mill turns round;<br> +On shining Altars of Japan they raise<br> +The silver lamp; the fiery spirits blaze:<br> +From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide,<br> +While China's earth receives the smoking tide:<br> +At once they gratify their scent and taste,<br> +And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.<br> +Straight hover round the Fair her airy band;<br> +Some, as she sipp'd, the fuming liquor fann'd,<br> +Some o'er her lap their careful plumes display'd,<br> +Trembling, and conscious of the rich brocade.<br> +Coffee, (which makes the politician wise,<br> +And see thro' all things with his half-shut eyes)<br> +Sent up in vapours to the Baron's brain <br> +New Stratagems, the radiant Lock to gain.<br> +Ah cease, rash youth! desist ere't is too late,<br> +Fear the just Gods, and think of Scylla's Fate!<br> +Chang'd to a bird, and sent to flit in air,<br> +She dearly pays for Nisus' injur'd hair! <br> + <br> +But when to mischief mortals bend their will,<br> +How soon they find fit instruments of ill!<br> +Just then, Clarissa drew with tempting grace<br> +A two-edg'd weapon from her shining case:<br> +So Ladies in Romance assist their Knight,<br> +Present the spear, and arm him for the fight.<br> +He takes the gift with rev'rence, and extends <br> +The little engine on his fingers' ends; <br> +This just behind Belinda's neck he spread, <br> +As o'er the fragrant steams she bends her head. <br> +Swift to the Lock a thousand Sprites repair,<br> +A thousand wings, by turns, blow back the hair; <br> +And thrice they twitch'd the diamond in her ear; <br> +Thrice she look'd back, and thrice the foe drew near. <br> +Just in that instant, anxious Ariel sought <br> +The close recesses of the Virgin's thought;<br> +As on the nosegay in her breast reclin'd, <br> +He watch'd th' Ideas rising in her mind, <br> +Sudden he view'd, in spite of all her art, <br> +An earthly Lover lurking at her heart. <br> +Amaz'd, confus'd, he found his pow'r expir'd,<br> +Resign'd to fate, and with a sigh retir'd. <br><br> + +The Peer now spreads the glitt'ring Forfex wide,<br> +T' inclose the Lock; now joins it, to divide.<br> +Ev'n then, before the fatal engine clos'd, <br> +A wretched Sylph too fondly interpos'd;<br> +Fate urg'd the shears, and cut the Sylph in twain,<br> +(But airy substance soon unites again)<br> +The meeting points the sacred hair dissever<br> +From the fair head, for ever, and for ever! <br><br> + +Then flash'd the living lightning from her eyes,<br> +And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies.<br> +Not louder shrieks to pitying heav'n are cast,<br> +When husbands, or when lapdogs breathe their last;<br> +Or when rich China vessels fall'n from high,<br> +In glitt'ring dust and painted fragments lie!<br><br> + +Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine<br> +(The victor cry'd) the glorious Prize is mine! <br> +While fish in streams, or birds delight in air, <br> +Or in a coach and six the British Fair, <br> +As long as Atalantis shall be read,<br> +Or the small pillow grace a Lady's bed, <br> +While visits shall be paid on solemn days, <br> +When num'rous wax-lights in bright order blaze, <br> +While nymphs take treats, or assignations give, <br> +So long my honour, name, and praise shall live!<br> +What Time would spare, from Steel receives its date, <br> +And monuments, like men, submit to fate! <br> +Steel could the labour of the Gods destroy, <br> +And strike to dust th' imperial tow'rs of Troy; <br> +Steel could the works of mortal pride confound,<br> +And hew triumphal arches to the ground. <br> +What wonder then, fair nymph! thy hairs should feel, <br> +The conqu'ring force of unresisted steel? </td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +155<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<h3>Canto IV</h3><br> + +<table summary="Canto IV" width="75%" cellspacing="50" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="90%">But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress'd, <br> +And secret passions labour'd in her breast. <br> +Not youthful kings in battle seiz'd alive, <br> +Not scornful virgins who their charms survive, <br> +Not ardent lovers robb'd of all their bliss, <br> +Not ancient ladies when refus'd a kiss, <br> +Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die, <br> +Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinn'd awry,<br> +E'er felt such rage, resentment, and despair, <br> +As thou, sad Virgin! for thy ravish'd Hair.<br> + <br> +For, that sad moment, when the Sylphs withdrew<br> +And Ariel weeping from Belinda flew,<br> +Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite,<br> +As ever sully'd the fair face of light, <br> +Down to the central earth, his proper scene,<br> +Repair'd to search the gloomy Cave of Spleen. <br><br> + +Swift on his sooty pinions flits the Gnome,<br> +And in a vapour reach'd the dismal dome.<br> +No cheerful breeze this sullen region knows,<br> +The dreaded East is all the wind that blows.<br> +Here in a grotto, shelter'd close from air,<br> +And screen'd in shades from day's detested glare,<br> +She sighs for ever on her pensive bed,<br> +Pain at her side, and Megrim at her head. <br><br> + +Two handmaids wait the throne: alike in place,<br> +But diff'ring far in figure and in face.<br> +Here stood Ill-nature like an ancient maid,<br> +Her wrinkled form in black and white array'd;<br> +With store of pray'rs, for mornings, nights, and noons,<br> +Her hand is fill'd; her bosom with lampoons.<br> +There Affectation, with a sickly mien,<br> +Shows in her cheek the roses of eighteen,<br> +Practis'd to lisp, and hang the head aside.<br> +Faints into airs, and languishes with pride,<br> +On the rich quilt sinks with becoming woe,<br> +Wrapt in a gown, for sickness, and for show.<br> +The fair ones feel such maladies as these,<br> +When each new night-dress gives a new disease. <br><br> + +A constant Vapour o'er the palace flies; <br> +Strange phantoms rising as the mists arise;<br> +Dreadful, as hermit's dreams in haunted shades,<br> +Or bright, as visions of expiring maids.<br> +Now glaring fiends, and snakes on rolling spires,<br> +Pale spectres, gaping tombs, and purple fires:<br> +Now lakes of liquid gold, Elysian scenes,<br> +And crystal domes, and angels in machines. <br><br> + +Unnumber'd throngs on every side are seen, <br> +Of bodies chang'd to various forms by Spleen. <br> +Here living Tea-pots stand, one arm held out, <br> +One bent; the handle this, and that the spout:<br> +A Pipkin there, like Homer's Tripod walks; <br> +Here sighs a Jar, and there a Goose-pie talks; <br> +Men prove with child, as pow'rful fancy works, <br> +And maids turn'd bottles, call aloud for corks. <br><br> + +Safe past the Gnome thro' this fantastic band,<br> +A branch of healing Spleenwort in his hand.<br> +Then thus address'd the pow'r: "Hail, wayward Queen!<br> +Who rule the sex to fifty from fifteen:<br> +Parent of vapours and of female wit, <br> +Who give th' hysteric, or poetic fit,<br> +On various tempers act by various ways,<br> +Make some take physic, others scribble plays;<br> +Who cause the proud their visits to delay,<br> +And send the godly in a pet to pray. <br> +A nymph there is, that all thy pow'r disdains,<br> +And thousands more in equal mirth maintains.<br> +But oh! if e'er thy Gnome could spoil a grace,<br> +Or raise a pimple on a beauteous face,<br> +Like Citron-waters matrons cheeks inflame,<br> +Or change complexions at a losing game;<br> +If e'er with airy horns I planted heads,<br> +Or rumpled petticoats, or tumbled beds,<br> +Or caus'd suspicion when no soul was rude,<br> +Or discompos'd the head-dress of a Prude,<br> +Or e'er to costive lap-dog gave disease,<br> +Which not the tears of brightest eyes could ease:<br> +Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin,<br> +That single act gives half the world the spleen."<br><br> + +The Goddess with a discontented air<br> +Seems to reject him, tho' she grants his pray'r.<br> +A wond'rous Bag with both her hands she binds, <br> +Like that where once Ulysses held the winds; <br> +There she collects the force of female lungs, <br> +Sighs, sobs, and passions, and the war of tongues. <br> +A Vial next she fills with fainting fears,<br> +Soft sorrows, melting griefs, and flowing tears. <br> +The Gnome rejoicing bears her gifts away, <br> +Spreads his black wings, and slowly mounts to day.<br><br> + +Sunk in Thalestris' arms the nymph he found,<br> +Her eyes dejected and her hair unbound.<br> +Full o'er their heads the swelling bag he rent,<br> +And all the Furies issu'd at the vent.<br> +Belinda burns with more than mortal ire,<br> +And fierce Thalestris fans the rising fire. <br> +"O wretched maid!" she spread her hands, and cry'd,<br> +(While Hampton's echoes, "Wretched maid!" reply'd)<br> +"Was it for this you took such constant care<br> +The bodkin, comb, and essence to prepare?<br> +For this your locks in paper durance bound,<br> +For this with tort'ring irons wreath'd around?<br> +For this with fillets strain'd your tender head,<br> +And bravely bore the double loads of lead?<br> +Gods! shall the ravisher display your hair,<br> +While the Fops envy, and the Ladies stare!<br> +Honour forbid! at whose unrivall'd shrine <br> +Ease, pleasure, virtue, all our sex resign.<br> +Methinks already I your tears survey,<br> +Already hear the horrid things they say,<br> +Already see you a degraded toast, <br> +And all your honour in a whisper lost!<br> +How shall I, then, your helpless fame defend?<br> +'T will then be infamy to seem your friend!<br> +And shall this prize, th' inestimable prize, <br> +Expos'd thro' crystal to the gazing eyes, <br> +And heighten'd by the diamond's circling rays,<br> +On that rapacious hand for ever blaze? <br> +Sooner shall grass in Hyde-park Circus grow, <br> +And wits take lodgings in the sound of Bow; <br> +Sooner let earth, air, sea, to Chaos fall, <br> +Men, monkeys, lap-dogs, parrots, perish all!"<br><br> + +She said; then raging to Sir Plume repairs,<br> +And bids her Beau demand the precious hairs;<br> +(Sir Plume of amber snuff-box justly vain,<br> +And the nice conduct of a clouded cane) <br> +With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face,<br> +He first the snuff-box open'd, then the case,<br> +And thus broke out — "My Lord, why, what the devil?<br> +"Z — ds! damn the lock! 'fore Gad, you must be civil!<br> +Plague on't!'t is past a jest — nay prithee, pox!<br> +Give her the hair" — he spoke, and rapp'd his box.<br><br> + +"It grieves me much" (reply'd the Peer again)<br> +"Who speaks so well should ever speak in vain.<br> +But by this Lock, this sacred Lock I swear,<br> +(Which never more shall join its parted hair;<br> +Which never more its honours shall renew,<br> +Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew)<br> +That while my nostrils draw the vital air,<br> +This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear."<br> +He spoke, and speaking, in proud triumph spread<br> +The long-contended honours of her head. <br><br> + +But Umbriel, hateful Gnome! forbears not so;<br> +He breaks the Vial whence the sorrows flow.<br> +Then see! the nymph in beauteous grief appears,<br> +Her eyes half-languishing, half-drown'd in tears;<br> +On her heav'd bosom hung her drooping head,<br> +Which, with a sigh, she rais'd; and thus she said. <br> +"For ever curs'd be this detested day,<br> +Which snatch'd my best, my fav'rite curl away!<br> +Happy! ah ten times happy had I been, <br> +If Hampton-Court these eyes had never seen!<br> +Yet am not I the first mistaken maid,<br> +By love of Courts to num'rous ills betray'd.<br> +Oh had I rather un-admir'd remain'd<br> +In some lone isle, or distant Northern land;<br> +Where the gilt Chariot never marks the way,<br> +Where none learn Ombre, none e'er taste Bohea!<br> +There kept my charms conceal'd from mortal eye,<br> +Like roses, that in deserts bloom and die.<br> +What mov'd my mind with youthful Lords to roam?<br> +Oh had I stay'd, and said my pray'rs at home!<br> +'T was this, the morning omens seem'd to tell,<br> +Thrice from my trembling hand the patch-box fell;<br> +The tott'ring China shook without a wind.<br> +Nay, Poll sat mute, and Shock was most unkind!<br> +A Sylph too warn'd me of the threats of fate,<br> +In mystic visions, now believ'd too late!<br> +See the poor remnants of these slighted hairs!<br> +My hands shall rend what ev'n thy rapine spares:<br> +These in two sable ringlets taught to break,<br> +Once gave new beauties to the snowy neck;<br> +The sister-lock now sits uncouth, alone,<br> +And in its fellow's fate foresees its own;<br> +Uncurl'd it hangs, the fatal shears demands,<br> +And tempts once more thy sacrilegious hands.<br> +Oh hadst thou, cruel! been content to seize<br> +Hairs less in sight, or any hairs but these!"</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +155<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<h3>Canto V</h3><br> + +<table summary="Canto V" width="75%" cellspacing="50" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="90%">She said: the pitying audience melt in tears. <br> +But Fate and Jove had stopp'd the Baron's ears. <br> +In vain Thalestris with reproach assails, <br> +For who can move when fair Belinda fails? <br> +Not half so fix'd the Trojan could remain,<br> +While Anna begg'd and Dido rag'd in vain. <br> +Then grave Clarissa graceful wav'd her fan; <br> +Silence ensu'd, and thus the nymph began. <br><br> + +"Say why are Beauties prais'd and honour'd most, <br> +The wise man's passion, and the vain man's toast?<br> +Why deck'd with all that land and sea afford, <br> +Why Angels call'd, and Angel-like ador'd? <br> +Why round our coaches crowd the white-glov'd Beaux, <br> +Why bows the side-box from its inmost rows; <br> +How vain are all these glories, all our pains,<br> +Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains: <br> +That men may say, when we the front-box grace: <br> +'Behold the first in virtue as in face!' <br> +Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, <br> +Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old-age away;<br> +Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce, <br> +Or who would learn one earthly thing of use? <br> +To patch, nay ogle, might become a Saint, <br> +Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint. <br> +But since, alas! frail beauty must decay,<br> +Curl'd or uncurl'd, since Locks will turn to grey; <br> +Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade, <br> +And she who scorns a man, must die a maid; <br> +What then remains but well our pow'r to use, <br> +And keep good-humour still whate'er we lose?<br> +And trust me, dear! good-humour can prevail,<br> +When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail.<br> +Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll;<br> +Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul."<br><br> + +So spoke the Dame, but no applause ensu'd;<br> +Belinda frown'd, Thalestris call'd her Prude.<br> +"To arms, to arms!" the fierce Virago cries,<br> +And swift as lightning to the combat flies.<br> +All side in parties, and begin th' attack; <br> +Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack;<br> +Heroes' and Heroines' shouts confus'dly rise,<br> +And bass, and treble voices strike the skies.<br> +No common weapons in their hands are found,<br> +Like Gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound. <br><br> + +So when bold Homer makes the Gods engage, <br> +And heav'nly breasts with human passions rage;<br> +'Gainst Pallas, Mars; Latona, Hermes arms;<br> +And all Olympus rings with loud alarms:<br> +Jove's thunder roars, heav'n trembles all around,<br> +Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound: <br> +Earth shakes her nodding tow'rs, the ground gives way.<br> +And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day! <br><br> + +Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's height<br> +Clapp'd his glad wings, and sate to view the fight:<br> +Propp'd on the bodkin spears, the Sprites survey<br> +The growing combat, or assist the fray. <br><br> + +While thro' the press enrag'd Thalestris flies,<br> +And scatters death around from both her eyes,<br> +A Beau and Witling perish'd in the throng,<br> +One died in metaphor, and one in song.<br> +"O cruel nymph! a living death I bear,"<br> +Cry'd Dapperwit, and sunk beside his chair.<br> +A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards cast, <br> +"Those eyes are made so killing" — was his last. <br> +Thus on Mĉander's flow'ry margin lies <br> +Th' expiring Swan, and as he sings he dies. <br><br> + +When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down,<br> +Chloe stepp'd in, and kill'd him with a frown;<br> +She smil'd to see the doughty hero slain,<br> +But, at her smile, the Beau reviv'd again.<br><br> + +Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air,<br> +Weighs the Men's wits against the Lady's hair;<br> +The doubtful beam long nods from side to side;<br> +At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside. <br><br> + +See, fierce Belinda on the Baron flies,<br> +With more than usual lightning in her eyes:<br> +Nor fear'd the Chief th' unequal fight to try,<br> +Who sought no more than on his foe to die.<br> +But this bold Lord with manly strength endu'd,<br> +She with one finger and a thumb subdu'd:<br> +Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew,<br> +A charge of Snuff the wily virgin threw;<br> +The Gnomes direct, to ev'ry atom just,<br> +The pungent grains of titillating dust. <br> +Sudden, with starting tears each eye o'erflows,<br> +And the high dome re-echoes to his nose. <br><br> + +Now meet thy fate, incens'd Belinda cry'd,<br> +And drew a deadly bodkin from her side.<br> +(The same, his ancient personage to deck,<br> +Her great great grandsire wore about his neck,<br> +In three seal-rings; which after, melted down,<br> +Form'd a vast buckle for his widow's gown:<br> +Her infant grandame's whistle next it grew,<br> +The bells she jingled, and the whistle blew;<br> +Then in a bodkin grac'd her mother's hairs,<br> +Which long she wore, and now Belinda wears.) <br><br> + +"Boast not my fall" (he cry'd) "insulting foe!<br> +Thou by some other shalt be laid as low,<br> +Nor think, to die dejects my lofty mind: <br> +All that I dread is leaving you behind!<br> +Rather than so, ah let me still survive,<br> +And burn in Cupid's flames — but burn alive."<br> + <br> +"Restore the Lock!" she cries; and all around<br> +"Restore the Lock!" the vaulted roofs rebound.<br> +Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain<br> +Roar'd for the handkerchief that caus'd his pain.<br> +But see how oft ambitious aims are cross'd,<br> +And chiefs contend 'till all the prize is lost!<br> +The Lock, obtain'd with guilt, and kept with pain,<br> +In ev'ry place is sought, but sought in vain:<br> +With such a prize no mortal must be blest,<br> +So heav'n decrees! with heav'n who can contest? <br> + <br> +Some thought it mounted to the Lunar sphere,<br> +Since all things lost on earth are treasur'd there.<br> +There Hero's wits are kept in pond'rous vases,<br> +And beau's in snuff-boxes and tweezer-cases.<br> +There broken vows and death-bed alms are found,<br> +And lovers' hearts with ends of riband bound,<br> +The courtier's promises, and sick man's pray'rs,<br> +The smiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs,<br> +Cages for gnats, and chains to yoke a flea,<br> +Dry'd butterflies, and tomes of casuistry. <br> + <br> +But trust the Muse — she saw it upward rise,<br> +Tho' mark'd by none but quick, poetic eyes:<br> +(So Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew,<br> +To Proculus alone confess'd in view)<br> +A sudden Star, it shot thro' liquid air,<br> +And drew behind a radiant trail of hair.<br> +Not Berenice's Locks first rose so bright,<br> +The heav'ns bespangling with dishevell'd light.<br> +The Sylphs behold it kindling as it flies, <br> +And pleas'd pursue its progress thro' the skies. <br><br> + +This the Beau monde shall from the Mall survey,<br> +And hail with music its propitious ray. <br> +This the blest Lover shall for Venus take,<br> +And send up vows from Rosamonda's lake.<br> +This Partridge soon shall view in cloudless skies,<br> +When next he looks thro' Galileo's eyes;<br> +And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom<br> +The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome.<br> +Then cease, bright Nymph! to mourn thy ravish'd hair,<br> +Which adds new glory to the shining sphere!<br> +Not all the tresses that fair head can boast,<br> +Shall draw such envy as the Lock you lost.<br> +For, after all the murders of your eye,<br> +When, after millions slain, yourself shall die:<br> +When those fair suns shall set, as set they must,<br> +And all those tresses shall be laid in dust,<br> +This Lock, the Muse shall consecrate to fame,<br> +And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br><br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +150</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + +<a name="section2"></a><h2>An Essay on Criticism</h2> +<br> +<a name="eoccontents"></a><h3>Contents</h3> +<br> +<table summary="contents title eoc" width="100%" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td width="15%"><b>Part</b></td> + <td width="15%">Line</td> + <td width="70%"><i>Topic</i></td> + </tr> +</table> + + +<table summary="contents eoc" width="100%" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10"> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td width="15%"><b>I<br> + Introduction<br></b></td> + <td width="15%">1</td> + <td width="70%">That 'tis as great a fault to judge ill, as to write ill, and +a more dangerous one to the public.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>9-18</td> + <td>That a true Taste is as rare to be found, as a true Genius. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>19-25</td> + <td>That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by +false Education.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>26-45</td> + <td>The multitude of Critics, and causes of them.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>46-67</td> + <td>That we are to study our own Taste, and know the Limits of it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>68-87</td> + <td>Nature the best guide of Judgment.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>88</td> + <td>Improv'd by Art and Rules, — which are but methodis'd Nature.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>id-110</td> + <td>Rules derived from the Practice of the Ancient Poets.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>120-138</td> + <td>That therefore the Ancients are necessary to be studyd, by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>140-180</td> + <td>Of Licenses, and the use of them by the Ancients.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>181 etc.</td> + <td>Reverence due to the Ancients, and praise of them.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td><b>II<br> + 201→</b></td> + <td></td> + <td>Causes hindering a true Judgment</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>208</td> + <td>1. Pride</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>215</td> + <td>2. Imperfect Learning</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>233-288</td> + <td>3. Judging by parts, and not by the whole. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>288, 305, 399 etc.</td> + <td>Critics in Wit, Language, Versification, only. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>384</td> + <td>4. Being too hard to please, or too apt to admire.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>394</td> + <td>5. Partiality — too much Love to a Sect, — to the Ancients or Moderns. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>408</td> + <td>6. Prejudice or Prevention.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>424</td> + <td>7. Singularity.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>430</td> + <td>8. Inconstancy.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>452 etc.</td> + <td>9. Party Spirit. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>466</td> + <td>10. Envy.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>508 etc.</td> + <td>Against Envy, and in praise of Good-nature. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>526 etc.</td> + <td>When Severity is chiefly to be used by Critics.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td><b>III<br> + v. 560→</b></td> + <td></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>563</td> + <td>Rules for the Conduct of Manners in a Critic.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>566</td> + <td>1. Candour, Modesty.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>572</td> + <td>Good-breeding. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>578</td> + <td>Sincerity, and Freedom of advice. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>584</td> + <td>2. When one's Counsel is to be restrained.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>600</td> + <td>Character of an incorrigible Poet.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>610</td> + <td>And of an impertinent Critic, etc.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>629</td> + <td>Character of a good Critic.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>645</td> + <td>The History of Criticism, and Characters of the best Critics, Aristotle,</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>653</td> + <td>Horace,</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>665</td> + <td>Dionysius,</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>667</td> + <td>Petronius,</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>670</td> + <td>Quintilian,</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>675</td> + <td>Longinus.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>693</td> + <td>Of the Decay of Criticism, and its Revival. Erasmus,</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>705</td> + <td>Vida,</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>714</td> + <td>Boileau,</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td></td> + <td>725</td> + <td>Lord Roscommon, etc.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"> + <td><b>Conclusion</b></td> + <td></td> + <td></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> +<br> +<a name="eocitself"></a><h3>An Essay on Criticism</h3> +<br> + +<table summary="eoc main" cellspacing="20" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill <br> +Appear in writing or in judging ill; <br> +But, of the two, less dang'rous is th' offence <br> +To tire our patience, than mislead our sense. <br> +Some few in that, but numbers err in this,<br> +Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss; <br> +A fool might once himself alone expose, <br> +Now one in verse makes many more in prose. <br><br> + +'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none<br> +Go just alike, yet each believes his own.<br> +In Poets as true genius is but rare,<br> +True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;<br> +Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,<br> +These born to judge, as well as those to write.<br> +Let such teach others who themselves excel,<br> +And censure freely who have written well.<br> +Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,<br> +But are not Critics to their judgment too? <br><br> + +Yet if we look more closely, we shall find<br> +Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:<br> +Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;<br> +The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right.<br> +(But as the slightest sketch, if justly trac'd,<br> +(Is by ill-colouring but the more disgrac'd,<br> +(So by false learning is good sense defac'd:<br> +Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,<br> +And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools. <br><br> + +In search of wit these lose their common sense, <br> +And then turn Critics in their own defence: <br> +Each burns alike, who can, or cannot write,<br> +Or with a Rival's, or an Eunuch's spite. <br> +All fools have still an itching to deride, <br> +And fain would be upon the laughing side. <br> +If Mĉvius scribble in Apollo's spite, <br> +There are who judge still worse than he can write.<br><br> + +Some have at first for Wits, then Poets past,<br> +Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain fools at last.<br> +Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,<br> +As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.<br> +Those half-learn'd witlings, num'rous in our isle,<br> +As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;<br> +Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,<br> +Their generation's so equivocal:<br> +To tell 'em, would a hundred tongues require,<br> +Or one vain wit's, that might a hundred tire.<br><br> + +But you who seek to give and merit fame,<br> +And justly bear a Critic's noble name,<br> +Be sure yourself and your own reach to know,<br> +How far your genius, taste, and learning go;<br> +Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet,<br> +And mark that point where sense and dulness meet. <br><br> + +Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit,<br> +And wisely curb'd proud man's pretending wit.<br> +As on the land while here the ocean gains,<br> +In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains;<br> +Thus in the soul while memory prevails,<br> +The solid pow'r of understanding fails;<br> +Where beams of warm imagination play,<br> +The memory's soft figures melt away.<br> +One science only will one genius fit;<br> +So vast is art, so narrow human wit: <br> +Not only bounded to peculiar arts, <br> +But oft in those confin'd to single parts. <br> +Like kings we lose the conquests gain'd before, <br> +By vain ambition still to make them more;<br> +Each might his sev'ral province well command, <br> +Would all but stoop to what they understand. <br><br> + +First follow Nature, and your judgment frame<br> +By her just standard, which is still the same:<br> +Unerring <b>Nature</b>, still divinely bright,<br> +One clear, unchang'd, and universal light,<br> +Life, force, and beauty, must to all impart,<br> +At once the source, and end, and test of Art.<br> +Art from that fund each just supply provides,<br> +Works without show, and without pomp presides:<br> +In some fair body thus th' informing soul<br> +With spirits feeds, with vigour fills the whole,<br> +Each motion guides, and ev'ry nerve sustains;<br> +Itself unseen, but in th' effects, remains.<br> +Some, to whom Heav'n in wit has been profuse,<br> +Want as much more, to turn it to its use;<br> +For wit and judgment often are at strife,<br> +Tho' meant each other's aid, like man and wife.<br> +'T is more to guide, than spur the Muse's steed;<br> +Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed;<br> +The winged courser, like a gen'rous horse,<br> +Shows most true mettle when you check his course. <br><br> + +Those <b>Rules</b> of old discovered, not devis'd,<br> +Are Nature still, but Nature methodiz'd;<br> +Nature, like liberty, is but restrain'd<br> +By the same laws which first herself ordain'd. <br> +Hear how learn'd Greece her useful rules indites,<br> +When to repress, and when indulge our flights: <br> +High on Parnassus' top her sons she show'd, <br> +And pointed out those arduous paths they trod;<br> +Held from afar, aloft, th' immortal prize, <br> +And urg'd the rest by equal steps to rise. <br> +Just precepts thus from great examples giv'n, <br> +She drew from them what they deriv'd from Heav'n. <br> +The gen'rous Critic fann'd the Poet's fire,<br> +And taught the world with reason to admire. <br> +Then Criticism the Muse's handmaid prov'd, <br> +To dress her charms, and make her more belov'd: <br> +But following wits from that intention stray'd, <br> +Who could not win the mistress, woo'd the maid;<br> +Against the Poets their own arms they turn'd, <br> +Sure to hate most the men from whom they learn'd. <br> +So modern 'Pothecaries, taught the art <br> +By Doctor's bills to play the Doctor's part, <br> +Bold in the practice of mistaken rules,<br> +Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools. <br> +Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey, <br> +Nor time nor moths e'er spoil'd so much as they. <br> +Some drily plain, without invention's aid, <br> +Write dull receipts how poems may be made.<br> +These leave the sense, their learning to display, <br> +And those explain the meaning quite away. <br><br> + +You then whose judgment the right course would steer,<br> +Know well each <b>Ancient's</b> proper character;<br> +His fable, subject, scope in ev'ry page;<br> +Religion, Country, genius of his Age:<br> +Without all these at once before your eyes,<br> +Cavil you may, but never criticize.<br> +Be Homer's works your study and delight,<br> +Read them by day, and meditate by night;<br> +Thence form your judgment, thence your maxims bring,<br> +And trace the Muses upward to their spring.<br> +Still with itself compar'd, his text peruse;<br> +And let your comment be the Mantuan Muse. <br><br> + +When first young Maro in his boundless mind<br> +A work t' outlast immortal Rome design'd,<br> +Perhaps he seem'd above the critic's law,<br> +And but from Nature's fountains scorn'd to draw:<br> +But when t' examine ev'ry part he came, <br> +Nature and Homer were, he found, the same.<br> +Convinc'd, amaz'd, he checks the bold design; <br> +And rules as strict his labour'd work confine,<br> +As if the Stagirite o'erlook'd each line.<br> +Learn hence for ancient rules a just esteem;<br> +To copy nature is to copy them. <br><br> + +Some beauties yet no Precepts can declare,<br> +For there's a happiness as well as care.<br> +Music resembles Poetry, in each<br> +Are nameless graces which no methods teach,<br> +And which a master-hand alone can reach.<br> +If, where the rules not far enough extend,<br> +(Since rules were made but to promote their end)<br> +Some lucky Licence answer to the full<br> +Th' intent propos'd, that Licence is a rule.<br> +Thus Pegasus, a nearer way to take,<br> +May boldly deviate from the common track;<br> +From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part,<br> +And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art,<br> +Which without passing thro' the judgment, gains<br> +The heart, and all its end at once attains.<br> +In prospects thus, some objects please our eyes, <br> +Which out of nature's common order rise,<br> +The shapeless rock, or hanging precipice.<br> +Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend, <br> +And rise to faults true Critics dare not mend.<br> +But tho' the Ancients thus their rules invade, <br> +(As Kings dispense with laws themselves have made) <br> +Moderns, beware! or if you must offend <br> +Against the precept, ne'er transgress its End; <br> +Let it be seldom, and compell'd by need;<br> +And have, at least, their precedent to plead. <br> +The Critic else proceeds without remorse, <br> +Seizes your fame, and puts his laws in force. <br> +I know there are, to whose presumptuous thoughts<br> +Those freer beauties, ev'n in them, seem faults.<br> +Some figures monstrous and mis-shap'd appear,<br> +Consider'd singly, or beheld too near,<br> +Which, but proportion'd to their light, or place,<br> +Due distance reconciles to form and grace.<br> +A prudent chief not always must display<br> +His pow'rs in equal ranks, and fair array.<br> +But with th' occasion and the place comply,<br> +Conceal his force, nay seem sometimes to fly.<br> +Those oft are stratagems which error seem,<br> +Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.<br><br> + +Still green with bays each ancient Altar stands,<br> +Above the reach of sacrilegious hands;<br> +Secure from Flames, from Envy's fiercer rage,<br> +Destructive War, and all-involving Age. <br> +See, from each clime the learn'd their incense bring!<br> +Hear, in all tongues consenting Pĉans ring!<br> +In praise so just let ev'ry voice be join'd,<br> +And fill the gen'ral chorus of mankind.<br> +Hail, Bards triumphant! born in happier days;<br> +Immortal heirs of universal praise!<br> +Whose honours with increase of ages grow,<br> +As streams roll down, enlarging as they flow;<br> +Nations unborn your mighty names shall sound, <br> +And worlds applaud that must not yet be found! <br> +Oh may some spark of your celestial fire,<br> +The last, the meanest of your sons inspire, <br> +(That on weak wings, from far, pursues your flights; <br> +Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes) <br> +To teach vain Wits a science little known, <br> +T' admire superior sense, and doubt their own!<br><br> + +Of all the Causes which conspire to blind<br> +Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind,<br> +What the weak head with strongest bias rules,<br> +Is <i>Pride</i>, the never-failing voice of fools. <br> +Whatever nature has in worth denied,<br> +She gives in large recruits of needful pride;<br> +For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find<br> +What wants in blood and spirits, swell'd with wind:<br> +Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence,<br> +And fills up all the mighty Void of sense.<br> +If once right reason drives that cloud away,<br> +Truth breaks upon us with resistless day.<br> +Trust not yourself; but your defects to know,<br> +Make use of ev'ry friend — and ev'ry foe. <br><br> + +A <i>little learning</i> is a dang'rous thing;<br> +Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.<br> +There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,<br> +And drinking largely sobers us again.<br> +Fir'd at first sight with what the Muse imparts,<br> +In fearless youth we tempt the heights of Arts,<br> +While from the bounded level of our mind<br> +Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind;<br> +But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise<br> +New distant scenes of endless science rise! <br> +So pleas'd at first the tow'ring Alps we try,<br> +Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky, <br> +Th' eternal snows appear already past, <br> +And the first clouds and mountains seem the last; <br> +But, those attain'd, we tremble to survey <br> +The growing labours of the lengthen'd way,<br> +Th' increasing prospect tires our wand'ring eyes,<br> +Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise! <br><br> + +A perfect Judge will read each work of Wit<br> +With the same spirit that its author writ:<br> +Survey the <b>Whole</b>, nor seek slight faults to find<br> +Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind;<br> +Nor lose, for that malignant dull delight,<br> +The gen'rous pleasure to be charm'd with Wit.<br> +But in such lays as neither ebb, nor flow,<br> +Correctly cold, and regularly low,<br> +That shunning faults, one quiet tenour keep,<br> +We cannot blame indeed — but we may sleep.<br> +In wit, as nature, what affects our hearts<br> +Is not th' exactness of peculiar parts; <br> +'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,<br> +But the joint force and full result of all.<br> +Thus when we view some well-proportion'd dome,<br> +(The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O Rome!)<br> +No single parts unequally surprize, <br> +All comes united to th' admiring eyes;<br> +No monstrous height, or breadth, or length appear;<br> +The Whole at once is bold, and regular. <br><br> + +Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,<br> +Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.<br> +In every work regard the writer's End,<br> +Since none can compass more than they intend;<br> +And if the means be just, the conduct true, <br> +Applause, in spight of trivial faults, is due; <br> +As men of breeding, sometimes men of wit, <br> +T' avoid great errors, must the less commit:<br> +Neglect the rules each verbal Critic lays, <br> +For not to know some trifles, is a praise. <br> +Most Critics, fond of some subservient art, <br> +Still make the Whole depend upon a Part: <br> +They talk of principles, but notions prize,<br> +And all to one lov'd Folly sacrifice. <br><br> + +Once on a time, La Mancha's Knight, they say,<br> +A certain bard encount'ring on the way,<br> +Discours'd in terms as just, with looks as sage,<br> +As e'er could Dennis of the Grecian stage;<br> +Concluding all were desp'rate sots and fools,<br> +Who durst depart from Aristotle's rules.<br> +Our Author, happy in a judge so nice,<br> +Produc'd his Play, and begg'd the Knight's advice;<br> +Made him observe the subject, and the plot,<br> +The manners, passions, unities; what not?<br> +All which, exact to rule, were brought about,<br> +Were but a Combat in the lists left out.<br> +"What! leave the Combat out?" exclaims the Knight;<br> +Yes, or we must renounce the Stagirite.<br> +"Not so, by Heav'n" (he answers in a rage),<br> +"Knights, squires, and steeds, must enter on the stage."<br> +So vast a throng the stage can ne'er contain.<br> +"Then build a new, or act it in a plain." <br><br> + +Thus Critics, of less judgment than caprice,<br> +Curious not knowing, not exact but nice,<br> +Form short Ideas; and offend in arts<br> +(As most in manners) by a love to parts. <br><br> + +Some to <i>Conceit</i> alone their taste confine,<br> +And glitt'ring thoughts struck out at ev'ry line;<br> +Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit; <br> +One glaring Chaos and wild heap of wit. <br> +Poets like painters, thus, unskill'd to trace <br> +The naked nature and the living grace, <br> +With gold and jewels cover ev'ry part, <br> +And hide with ornaments their want of art. <br> +True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd, <br> +What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd; <br> +Something, whose truth convinc'd at sight we find, <br> +That gives us back the image of our mind.<br> +As shades more sweetly recommend the light, <br> +So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit. <br> +For works may have more wit than does 'em good, <br> +As bodies perish thro' excess of blood. <br><br> + +Others for Language all their care express,<br> +And value books, as women men, for Dress:<br> +Their praise is still — the Style is excellent:<br> +The Sense, they humbly take upon content.<br> +Words are like leaves; and where they most abound,<br> +Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found,<br> +False Eloquence, like the prismatic glass,<br> +Its gaudy colours spreads on ev'ry place;<br> +The face of Nature we no more survey,<br> +All glares alike, without distinction gay:<br> +But true expression, like th' unchanging Sun,<br> +Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon,<br> +It gilds all objects, but it alters none.<br> +Expression is the dress of thought, and still<br> +Appears more decent, as more suitable;<br> +A vile conceit in pompous words express'd,<br> +Is like a clown in regal purple dress'd:<br> +For diff'rent styles with diff'rent subjects sort,<br> +As several garbs with country, town, and court. <br><br> + +Some by old words to fame have made pretence, <br> +Ancients in phrase, mere moderns in their sense;<br> +Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style, <br> +Amaze th' unlearn'd, and make the learned smile. <br> +(Unlucky, as Fungoso in the play,<br> +(These sparks with awkward vanity display<br> +(What the fine gentleman wore yesterday;<br> +And but so mimic ancient wits at best, <br> +As apes our grandsires, in their doublets drest. <br> +In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold; <br> +Alike fantastic, if too new, or old: <br> +Be not the first by whom the new are try'd,<br> +Nor yet the last to lay the old aside. <br><br> + +But most by Numbers judge a Poet's song;<br> +And smooth or rough, with them is right or wrong:<br> +In the bright Muse though thousand charms conspire,<br> +Her voice is all these tuneful fools admire;<br> +(Who haunt Parnassus but to please their ear,<br> +(Not mend their minds; as some to Church repair,<br> +(Not for the doctrine, but the music there.<br> +These equal syllables alone require, <br> +Tho' oft the ear the open vowe's tire;<br> +While expletives their feeble aid do join;<br> +And ten low words oft creep in one dull line:<br> +While they ring round the same unvary'd chimes,<br> +With sure returns of still expected rhymes;<br> +Where-e'er you find "the cooling western breeze,"<br> +In the next line, it "whispers through the trees:"<br> +If crystal streams "with pleasing murmurs creep,"<br> +The reader's threaten'd (not in vain) with "sleep:"<br> +Then, at the last and only couplet fraught<br> +With some unmeaning thing they call a thought,<br> +A needless Alexandrine ends the song <br> +That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along. <br> +Leave such to tune their own dull rhymes, and know <br> +What's roundly smooth or languishingly slow; <br> +And praise the easy vigour of a line,<br> +Where Denham's strength, and Waller's sweetness join. <br> +True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, <br> +As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance. <br> +'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, <br> +The sound must seem an Echo to the sense:<br> +Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, <br> +And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; <br> +But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, <br> +The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar: <br> +When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,<br> +The line too labours, and the words move slow; <br> +Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, <br> +Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main. <br> +Hear how Timotheus' varied lays surprize, <br> +And bid alternate passions fall and rise!<br> +While, at each change, the son of Libyan Jove <br> +Now burns with glory, and then melts with love, <br> +Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow, <br> +Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow: <br> +Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found,<br> +And the world's victor stood subdu'd by Sound! <br> +The pow'r of Music all our hearts allow, <br> +And what Timotheus was, is <b>Dryden</b> now. <br><br> + +Avoid Extremes; and shun the fault of such,<br> +Who still are pleas'd too little or too much.<br> +At ev'ry trifle scorn to take offence,<br> +That always shows great pride, or little sense;<br> +Those heads, as stomachs, are not sure the best,<br> +Which nauseate all, and nothing can digest. <br> +Yet let not each gay Turn thy rapture move;<br> +For fools admire, but men of sense approve:<br> +As things seem large which we thro' mists descry,<br> +Dulness is ever apt to magnify. <br><br> + +Some foreign writers, some our own despise;<br> +The Ancients only, or the Moderns prize.<br> +Thus Wit, like Faith, by each man is apply'd<br> +To one small sect, and all are damn'd beside.<br> +Meanly they seek the blessing to confine,<br> +And force that sun but on a part to shine,<br> +Which not alone the southern wit sublimes,<br> +But ripens spirits in cold northern climes;<br> +Which from the first has shone on ages past,<br> +Enlights the present, and shall warm the last;<br> +Tho' each may feel increases and decays,<br> +And see now clearer and now darker days.<br> +Regard not then if Wit be old or new,<br> +But blame the false, and value still the true. <br><br> + +Some ne'er advance a Judgment of their own,<br> +But catch the spreading notion of the Town;<br> +They reason and conclude by precedent,<br> +And own stale nonsense which they ne'er invent.<br> +Some judge of author's names, not works, and then<br> +Nor praise nor blame the writings, but the men.<br> +Of all this servile herd the worst is he <br> +That in proud dulness joins with Quality,<br> +A constant Critic at the great man's board,<br> +To fetch and carry nonsense for my Lord.<br> +What woful stuff this madrigal would be,<br> +In some starv'd hackney sonneteer, or me?<br> +But let a Lord once own the happy lines,<br> +How the wit brightens! how the style refines!<br> +Before his sacred name flies ev'ry fault, <br> +And each exalted stanza teems with thought! <br> + <br> +The Vulgar thus through Imitation err; <br> +As oft the Learn'd by being singular;<br> +So much they scorn the crowd, that if the throng<br> +By chance go right, they purposely go wrong;<br> +So Schismatics the plain believers quit,<br> +And are but damn'd for having too much wit.<br> +Some praise at morning what they blame at night;<br> +But always think the last opinion right.<br> +A Muse by these is like a mistress us'd,<br> +This hour she's idoliz'd, the next abus'd;<br> +While their weak heads like towns unfortify'd,<br> +'Twixt sense and nonsense daily change their side. <br> +Ask them the cause; they're wiser still, they say;<br> +And still to-morrow's wiser than to-day.<br> +We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow,<br> +Our wiser sons, no doubt, will think us so.<br> +Once School-divines this zealous isle o'er-spread;<br> +Who knew most Sentences, was deepest read;<br> +Faith, Gospel, all, seem'd made to be disputed,<br> +And none had sense enough to be confuted:<br> +Scotists and Thomists, now, in peace remain,<br> +Amidst their kindred cobwebs in Duck-lane.<br> +If Faith itself has diff'rent dresses worn,<br> +What wonder modes in Wit should take their turn?<br> +Oft', leaving what is natural and fit,<br> +The current folly proves the ready wit; <br> +And authors think their reputation safe,<br> +Which lives as long as fools are pleas'd to laugh. <br> +Some valuing those of their own side or mind,<br> +Still make themselves the measure of mankind:<br> +Fondly we think we honour merit then,<br> +When we but praise ourselves in other men.<br><br> + +Parties in Wit attend on those of State,<br> +And public faction doubles private hate.<br> +Pride, Malice, Folly, against Dryden rose,<br> +In various shapes of Parsons, Critics, Beaus;<br> +But sense surviv'd, when merry jests were past;<br> +For rising merit will buoy up at last.<br> +Might he return, and bless once more our eyes,<br> +New Blackmores and new Milbourns must arise:<br> +Nay should great Homer lift his awful head,<br> +Zoilus again would start up from the dead.<br> +Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue;<br> +But like a shadow, proves the substance true;<br> +For envy'd Wit, like Sol eclips'd, makes known<br> +Th' opposing body's grossness, not its own,<br> +When first that sun too pow'rful beams displays,<br> +It draws up vapours which obscure its rays;<br> +But ev'n those clouds at last adorn its way,<br> +Reflect new glories, and augment the day.<br> + <br> +Be thou the first true merit to befriend;<br> +His praise is lost, who stays, till all commend.<br> +Short is the date, alas, of modern rhymes,<br> +And 'tis but just to let them live betimes.<br> +No longer now that golden age appears,<br> +When Patriarch-wits surviv'd a thousand years:<br> +Now length of Fame (our second life) is lost,<br> +And bare threescore is all ev'n that can boast;<br> +Our sons their fathers' failing language see,<br> +And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be.<br> +So when the faithful pencil has design'd <br> +Some bright Idea of the master's mind,<br> +Where a new world leaps out at his command,<br> +And ready Nature waits upon his hand;<br> +When the ripe colours soften and unite, <br> +And sweetly melt into just shade and light; <br> +When mellowing years their full perfection give,<br> +And each bold figure just begins to live, <br> +The treach'rous colours the fair art betray, <br> +And all the bright creation fades away! <br><br> + +Unhappy Wit, like most mistaken things,<br> +Atones not for that envy which it brings.<br> +In youth alone its empty praise we boast,<br> +But soon the short-liv'd vanity is lost:<br> +Like some fair flow'r the early spring supplies.<br> +That gaily blooms, but ev'n in blooming dies.<br> +What is this Wit, which must our cares employ?<br> +The owner's wife, that other men enjoy;<br> +Then most our trouble still when most admir'd,<br> +And still the more we give, the more requir'd;<br> +Whose fame with pains we guard, but lose with ease,<br> +Sure some to vex, but never all to please;<br> +'Tis what the vicious fear, the virtuous shun,<br> +By fools't is hated, and by knaves undone! <br><br> + +If Wit so much from Ign'rance undergo,<br> +Ah let not Learning too commence its foe!<br> +Of old, those met rewards who could excel,<br> +And such were prais'd who but endeavour'd well:<br> +Tho' triumphs were to gen'rals only due,<br> +Crowns were reserv'd to grace the soldiers too,<br> +Now, they who reach Parnassus' lofty crown,<br> +Employ their pains to spurn some others down;<br> +And while self-love each jealous writer rules,<br> +Contending wits become the sport of fools:<br> +But still the worst with most regret commend,<br> +For each ill Author is as bad a Friend. <br> +To what base ends, and by what abject ways,<br> +Are mortals urg'd thro' sacred lust of praise!<br> +Ah ne'er so dire a thirst of glory boast, <br> +Nor in the Critic let the Man be lost. <br> +Good-nature and good-sense must ever join; <br> +To err is human, to forgive, divine.<br><br> + +But if in noble minds some dregs remain<br> +Not yet purg'd off, of spleen and sour disdain;<br> +Discharge that rage on more provoking crimes,<br> +Nor fear a dearth in these flagitious times.<br> +No pardon vile Obscenity should find,<br> +Tho' wit and art conspire to move your mind;<br> +But Dulness with Obscenity must prove<br> +As shameful sure as Impotence in love.<br> +In the fat age of pleasure wealth and ease<br> +Sprung the rank weed, and thriv'd with large increase:<br> +When love was all an easy Monarch's care;<br> +Seldom at council, never in a war:<br> +Jilts rul'd the state, and statesmen farces writ;<br> +Nay wits had pensions, and young Lords had wit:<br> +The Fair sate panting at a Courtier's play,<br> +And not a Mask went unimprov'd away:<br> +The modest fan was lifted up no more,<br> +And Virgins smil'd at what they blush'd before.<br> +The following licence of a Foreign reign<br> +Did all the dregs of bold Socinus drain;<br> +Then unbelieving priests reform'd the nation,<br> +And taught more pleasant methods of salvation;<br> +Where Heav'n's free subjects might their rights dispute,<br> +Lest God himself should seem too absolute:<br> +Pulpits their sacred satire learn'd to spare,<br> +And Vice admir'd to find a flatt'rer there!<br> +Encourag'd thus, Wit's Titans brav'd the skies,<br> +And the press groan'd with licens'd blasphemies.<br> +These monsters, Critics! with your darts engage, <br> +Here point your thunder, and exhaust your rage!<br> +Yet shun their fault, who, scandalously nice,<br> +Will needs mistake an author into vice;<br> +All seems infected that th' infected spy,<br> +As all looks yellow to the jaundic'd eye. <br><br> + +Learn then what <b>Morals</b> Critics ought to show,<br> +For't is but half a Judge's task, to know.<br> +'Tis not enough, taste, judgment, learning, join;<br> +In all you speak, let truth and candour shine:<br> +That not alone what to your sense is due<br> +All may allow; but seek your friendship too.<br><br> + +Be silent always when you doubt your sense;<br> +And speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence:<br> +Some positive, persisting fops we know,<br> +Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so;<br> +But you, with pleasure own your errors past,<br> +And make each day a Critic on the last. <br><br> + +'T is not enough, your counsel still be true;<br> +Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do;<br> +Men must be taught as if you taught them not,<br> +And things unknown propos'd as things forgot.<br> +Without Good Breeding, truth is disapprov'd;<br> +That only makes superior sense belov'd. <br><br> + +Be niggards of advice on no pretence;<br> +For the worst avarice is that of sense. <br> +With mean complacence ne'er betray your trust,<br> +Nor be so civil as to prove unjust.<br> +Fear not the anger of the wise to raise;<br> +Those best can bear reproof, who merit praise. <br><br> + +'T were well might critics still this freedom take,<br> +But Appius reddens at each word you speak,<br> +And stares, tremendous, with a threat'ning eye, <br> +Like some fierce Tyrant in old tapestry.<br> +Fear most to tax an Honourable fool,<br> +Whose right it is, uncensur'd, to be dull;<br> +Such, without wit, are Poets when they please,<br> +As without learning they can take Degrees.<br> +Leave dang'rous truths to unsuccessful Satires,<br> +And flattery to fulsome Dedicators,<br> +Whom, when they praise, the world believes no more,<br> +Than when they promise to give scribbling o'er.<br> +'T is best sometimes your censure to restrain,<br> +And charitably let the dull be vain:<br> +Your silence there is better than your spite,<br> +For who can rail so long as they can write?<br> +Still humming on, their drowsy course they keep,<br> +And lash'd so long, like tops, are lash'd asleep.<br> +False steps but help them to renew the race,<br> +As, after stumbling, Jades will mend their pace.<br> +What crowds of these, impenitently bold,<br> +In sounds and jingling syllables grown old,<br> +Still run on Poets, in a raging vein,<br> +Ev'n to the dregs and squeezings of the brain,<br> +Strain out the last dull droppings of their sense,<br> +And rhyme with all the rage of Impotence. <br><br> + +Such shameless Bards we have; and yet't is true,<br> +There are as mad abandon'd Critics too.<br> +The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read,<br> +With loads of learned lumber in his head,<br> +With his own tongue still edifies his ears,<br> +And always list'ning to himself appears.<br> +All books he reads, and all he reads assails.<br> +From Dryden's Fables down to Durfey's Tales.<br> +With him, most authors steal their works, or buy;<br> +Garth did not write his own Dispensary. <br><br> + +Name a new Play, and he's the Poet's friend,<br> +Nay show'd his faults — but when would Poets mend? <br> +No place so sacred from such fops is barr'd, <br> +Nor is Paul's church more safe than Paul's churchyard: <br> +Nay, fly to Altars; there they'll talk you dead: <br> +For Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread.<br> +(Distrustful sense with modest caution speaks, <br> +(It still looks home, and short excursions makes;<br> +(But rattling nonsense in full volleys breaks,<br> +And never shock'd, and never turn'd aside, <br> +Bursts out, resistless, with a thund'ring tide.<br><br> + +But where's the man, who counsel can bestow,<br> +Still pleas'd to teach, and yet not proud to know?<br> +Unbiass'd, or by favour, or by spite;<br> +Not dully prepossess'd, nor blindly right;<br> +Tho' learn'd, well-bred; and tho' well-bred, sincere, <br> +Modestly bold, and humanly severe:<br> +Who to a friend his faults can freely show,<br> +And gladly praise the merit of a foe?<br> +Blest with a taste exact, yet unconfin'd; <br> +A knowledge both of books and human kind:<br> +Gen'rous converse; a soul exempt from pride;<br> +And love to praise, with reason on his side? <br><br> + +Such once were Critics; such the happy few,<br> +Athens and Rome in better ages knew. <br> +The mighty Stagirite first left the shore,<br> +Spread all his sails, and durst the deeps explore:<br> +He steer'd securely, and discover'd far,<br> +Led by the light of the Mĉonian Star.<br> +Poets, a race long unconfin'd, and free, <br> +Still fond and proud of savage liberty,<br> +Receiv'd his laws; and stood convinc'd 't was fit,<br> +Who conquer'd Nature, should preside o'er Wit. <br><br> + +Horace still charms with graceful negligence,<br> +And without method talks us into sense,<br> +Will, like a friend, familiarly convey<br> +The truest notions in the easiest way.<br> +He, who supreme in judgment, as in wit,<br> +Might boldly censure, as he boldly writ,<br> +Yet judg'd with coolness, tho' he sung with fire;<br> +His Precepts teach but what his works inspire.<br> +Our Critics take a contrary extreme,<br> +They judge with fury, but they write with fle'me:<br> +Nor suffers Horace more in wrong Translations<br> +By Wits, than Critics in as wrong Quotations. <br><br> + + See Dionysius Homer's thoughts refine,<br> +And call new beauties forth from ev'ry line! <br> + Fancy and art in gay Petronius please,<br> +The scholar's learning, with the courtier's ease. <br> + <br> +In grave Quintilian's copious work, we find<br> +The justest rules, and clearest method join'd:<br> +Thus useful arms in magazines we place,<br> +All rang'd in order, and dispos'd with grace,<br> +But less to please the eye, than arm the hand,<br> +Still fit for use, and ready at command. <br> + <br> +Thee, bold Longinus! all the Nine inspire,<br> +And bless their Critic with a Poet's fire.<br> +An ardent Judge, who zealous in his trust,<br> +With warmth gives sentence, yet is always just;<br> +Whose own example strengthens all his laws;<br> +And is himself that great Sublime he draws. <br> + <br> +Thus long succeeding Critics justly reign'd,<br> +Licence repress'd, and useful laws ordain'd.<br> +Learning and Rome alike in empire grew;<br> +And Arts still follow'd where her Eagles flew;<br> +From the same foes, at last, both felt their doom,<br> +And the same age saw Learning fall, and Rome. <br> +With Tyranny, then Superstition join'd, <br> +As that the body, this enslav'd the mind; <br> +Much was believ'd, but little understood, <br> +And to be dull was constru'd to be good;<br> +A second deluge Learning thus o'er-run, <br> +And the Monks finish'd what the Goths begun. <br> + <br> +At length Erasmus, that great injur'd name,<br> +(The glory of the Priesthood, and the shame!)<br> +Stemm'd the wild torrent of a barb'rous age,<br> +And drove those holy Vandals off the stage. <br> + <br> +But see! each Muse, in <b>Leo's</b> golden days,<br> +Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays,<br> +Rome's ancient Genius, o'er its ruins spread,<br> +Shakes off the dust, and rears his rev'rend head.<br> +Then Sculpture and her sister-arts revive;<br> +Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live;<br> +With sweeter notes each rising Temple rung;<br> +A Raphael painted, and a Vida sung. <br> +Immortal Vida: on whose honour'd brow<br> +The Poet's bays and Critic's ivy grow:<br> +Cremona now shal ever boast thy name,<br> +As next in place to Mantua, next in fame! <br> + <br> +But soon by impious arms from Latium chas'd,<br> +Their ancient bounds the banish'd Muses pass'd;<br> +Thence Arts o'er all the northern world advance,<br> +But Critic-learning flourish'd most in France:<br> +The rules a nation, born to serve, obeys;<br> +And Boileau still in right of Horace sways.<br> +But we, brave Britons, foreign laws despis'd,<br> +And kept unconquer'd, and unciviliz'd;<br> +Fierce for the liberties of wit, and bold, <br> +We still defy'd the Romans, as of old. <br> +Yet some there were, among the sounder few <br> +Of those who less presum'd, and better knew,<br> +Who durst assert the juster ancient cause, <br> +And here restor'd Wit's fundamental laws. <br> +Such was the Muse, whose rules and practice tell, <br> +"Nature's chief Master-piece is writing well." <br><br> + +Such was Roscommon, not more learn'd than good,<br> +With manners gen'rous as his noble blood; <br> +To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known, <br> +And ev'ry author's merit, but his own. <br> +Such late was Walsh — the Muse's judge and friend, <br> +Who justly knew to blame or to commend;<br> +To failings mild, but zealous for desert; <br> +The clearest head, and the sincerest heart. <br> +This humble praise, lamented shade! receive, <br> +This praise at least a grateful Muse may give: <br> +The Muse, whose early voice you taught to sing,<br> +Prescrib'd her heights, and prun'd her tender wing, <br> +(Her guide now lost) no more attempts to rise, <br> +But in low numbers short excursions tries: <br> +Content, if hence th' unlearn'd their wants may view, <br> +The learn'd reflect on what before they knew:<br> +Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame; <br> +Still pleas'd to praise, yet not afraid to blame, <br> +Averse alike to flatter, or offend; <br> +Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend. </td> + 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+<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +720<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +725<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +730<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +735<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +740<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + + +<h2><a name="section3">An Essay on Man, Epistle I</a></h2> +<br> + +<i>To H. St. John Lord Bolingbroke</i><br> +<br> + +<a name="eomdesign"></a><h3>The Design</h3><br> + +Having proposed to write some pieces on Human Life and Manners, such as +(to use my Lord Bacon's expression) <i>come home to Men's Business and +Bosoms</i>, I thought it more satisfactory to begin with considering +<i>Man</i> in the abstract, his <i>Nature</i> and his <i>State</i>; +since, to prove any moral duty, to enforce any moral precept, or to +examine the perfection or imperfection of any creature whatsoever, it is +necessary first to know what <i>condition</i> and <i>relation</i> it is +placed in, and what is the proper end and purpose of its <i>being</i>.<br> +<br> +The science of Human Nature is, like all other sciences, reduced to a +<i>few clear points</i>: There are not <i>many certain truths</i> in +this world. It is therefore in the Anatomy of the mind as in that of the +Body; more good will accrue to mankind by attending to the large, open, +and perceptible parts, than by studying too much such finer nerves and +vessels, the conformations and uses of which will for ever escape our +observation. The <i>disputes</i> are all upon these last, and, I will +venture to say, they have less sharpened the <i>wits</i> than the +<i>hearts</i> of men against each other, and have diminished the +practice, more than advanced the theory of Morality. If I could flatter +myself that this Essay has any merit, it is in steering betwixt the +extremes of doctrines seemingly opposite, in passing over terms utterly +unintelligible, and in forming a <i>temperate</i> yet not +<i>inconsistent</i>, and a <i>short</i> yet not <i>imperfect</i> system +of Ethics.<br> +<br> +This I might have done in prose, but I chose verse, and even rhyme, for +two reasons. The one will appear obvious; that principles, maxims, or +precepts so written, both strike the reader more strongly at first, and +are more easily retained by him afterwards: The other may seem odd, but +is true, I found I could express them more <i>shortly</i> this way than +in prose itself; and nothing is more certain, than that much of the +<i>force</i> as well as <i>grace</i> of arguments or instructions, +depends on their <i>conciseness</i>. I was unable to treat this part of +my subject more in <i>detail</i>, without becoming dry and tedious; or +more <i>poetically</i>, without sacrificing perspicuity to ornament, +without wandring from the precision, or breaking the chain of reasoning: +If any man can unite all these without diminution of any of them, I +freely confess he will compass a thing above my capacity.<br> +<br> +What is now published, is only to be considered as a <i>general Map</i> +of <b>Man</b>, marking out no more than the <i>greater parts</i>, their +<i>extent</i>, their <i>limits</i>, and their <i>connection</i>, and +leaving the particular to be more fully delineated in the charts which +are to follow. Consequently, these Epistles in their progress (if I have +health and leisure to make any progress) will be less dry, and more +susceptible of poetical ornament. I am here only opening the +<i>fountains</i>, and clearing the passage. To deduce the <i>rivers</i>, +to follow them in their course, and to observe their effects, may be a +task more agreeable. <br> +<br> +P. <br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> +<a name="eomargepist1"></a><h3>Argument of Epistle I</h3><br> + +Of the Nature and State of Man, with respect to the <b>Universe</b>.<br> +<br> +<i>Of</i> Man <i>in the abstract</i>. <br><br> +<br> + +<br> +<table summary="eomepist1arg" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><th><b>section</b></th><th>lines</th><th><i>topic</i></th> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>I</b></td><td>17 &c.</td><td><i>That we can judge only with regard to our</i> +own system, <i>being ignorant of the</i> relations <i>of systems and things</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>II</b></td><td>35 &c.</td><td><i>That Man is not to be deemed</i> imperfect, <i>but a Being suited to his</i> place +<i>and</i> rank <i>in the creation, agreeable to the</i> general Order <i>of things, and conformable +to</i> Ends <i>and</i> Relations <i>to him unknown</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>III</b></td><td>77 &c.</td><td><i>That it +is partly upon his</i> ignorance <i>of</i> future <i>events, and partly upon the</i> hope <i>of a</i> +future <i>state, that all his happiness in the present depends</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>IV</b></td><td>109 &c.</td><td><i>The</i> pride <i>of aiming at more knowledge, and pretending to more Perfections, +the cause of Man's error and misery. The</i> impiety <i>of putting himself in +the place of</i> God, <i>and judging of the fitness or unfitness, perfection or imperfection, +justice or injustice of his dispensations</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>V</b></td><td>131 &c.</td><td><i>The</i> +absurdity <i>of conceiting himself the </i>final cause <i>of the creation, or expecting +that perfection in the</i> moral <i>world, which is not in the</i> natural.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>VI</b></td><td>173 &c.</td><td><i>The</i> unreasonableness <i>of his complaints against</i> Providence, <i>while on +the one hand he demands the Perfections of the Angels, and on the +other the bodily qualifications of the Brutes; though, to possess any of the</i> +sensitive faculties <i>in a higher degree, would render him miserable</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>VII</b></td><td>207</td><td><i>That throughout the whole visible world, an universal</i> order <i>and</i> gradation +<i>in the sensual and mental faculties is observed, which causes a</i> subordination +<i>of creature to creature, and of all creatures to Man. The gradations +of</i> sense, instinct, thought, reflection, reason; <i>that Reason alone countervails +fill the other faculties</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>VIII</b></td><td>233</td><td><i>How much further this</i> order <i>and</i> subordination <i>of living creatures may extend, above and below us; were any part +of which broken, not that part only, but the whole connected</i> creation <i>must be +destroyed</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>IX</b></td><td>250</td><td><i>The</i> extravagance, madness, <i>and</i> pride <i>of such a +desire</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>X</b></td><td>281→end</td><td><i>The consequence of all, the</i> absolute submission <i>due to +Providence, both as to our</i> present <i>and</i> future state.</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> +<a name="epist1self"></a><h3>Epistle I</h3><br> + +<table summary="Epistle1selfI" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"></td> + <td width="80%">Awake, my <b>St. John</b>! leave all meaner things<br> +To low ambition, and the pride of Kings.<br> +Let us (since Life can little more supply<br> +Than just to look about us and to die) <br> +Expatiate free o'er all this scene of Man;<br> +A mighty maze! but not without a plan;<br> +A Wild, where weeds and flow'rs promiscuous shoot;<br> +Or Garden, tempting with forbidden fruit.<br> +Together let us beat this ample field, <br> +Try what the open, what the covert yield;<br> +The latent tracts, the giddy heights, explore<br> +Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar;<br> +Eye Nature's walks, shoot Folly as it flies,<br> +And catch the Manners living as they rise;<br> +Laugh where we must, be candid where we can;<br> +But vindicate the ways of God to Man.</td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1selfI" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">I</span></td> + <td width="80%">Say first, of God above, or Man below,<br> +What can we reason, but from what we know?<br> +Of Man, what see we but his station here,<br> +From which to reason, or to which refer?<br> +Thro' worlds unnumber'd tho' the God be known,<br> +'Tis ours to trace him only in our own.<br> +He, who thro' vast immensity can pierce,<br> +See worlds on worlds compose one universe,<br> +Observe how system into system runs,<br> +What other planets circle other suns, <br> +What vary'd Being peoples ev'ry star, <br> +May tell why Heav'n has made us as we are. <br> +But of this frame the bearings, and the ties, <br> +The strong connexions, nice dependencies,<br> +Gradations just, has thy pervading soul <br> +Look'd thro'? or can a part contain the whole? <br><br> + +Is the great chain, that draws all to agree,<br> +And drawn supports, upheld by God, or thee? +</td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1self2" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">II</span></td> + <td width="80%">Presumptuous Man! the reason wouldst thou find,<br> +Why form'd so weak, so little, and so blind?<br> +First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess,<br> +Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no less?<br> +Ask of thy mother earth, why oaks are made<br> +Taller or stronger than the weeds they shade?<br> +Or ask of yonder argent fields above,<br> +Why <b>Jove's</b> satellites are less than <b>Jove</b>? <br><br> + +Of Systems possible, if 'tis confest<br> +That Wisdom infinite must form the best,<br> +Where all must full or not coherent be,<br> +And all that rises, rise in due degree;<br> +Then, in the scale of reas'ning life, 'tis plain,<br> +There must be, somewhere, such a rank as Man:<br> +And all the question (wrangle e'er so long)<br> +Is only this, if God has plac'd him wrong?<br><br> + +Respecting Man, whatever wrong we call,<br> +May, must be right, as relative to all.<br> +In human works, tho' labour'd on with pain,<br> +A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain;<br> +In God's, one single can its end produce;<br> +Yet serves to second too some other use.<br> +So Man, who here seems principal alone,<br> +Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown, <br> +Touches some wheel, or verges to some goal; <br> +'Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.<br><br> + +When the proud steed shall know why Man restrains<br> +His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains:<br> +When the dull Ox, why now he breaks the clod,<br> +Is now a victim, and now Ĉgypt's God:<br> +Then shall Man's pride and dulness comprehend <br> +His actions', passions', being's, use and end;<br> +Why doing, suff'ring, check'd, impell'd; and why<br> +This hour a slave, the next a deity. <br><br> + +Then say not Man's imperfect, Heav'n in fault;<br> +Say rather, Man's as perfect as he ought:<br> +His knowledge measur'd to his state and place;<br> +His time a moment, and a point his space.<br> +If to be perfect in a certain sphere,<br> +What matter, soon or late, or here or there?<br> +The blest to day is as completely so,,<br> +As who began a thousand years ago. </td> + <td width="5%">35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1self3" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">III</span></td> + <td width="80%">Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of Fate,<br> +All but the page prescrib'd, their present state:<br> +From brutes what men, from men what spirits know:<br> +Or who could suffer Being here below?<br> +The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,<br> +Had he thy Reason, would he skip and play?<br> +Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food,<br> +And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.<br> +Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n,<br> +That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heav'n:<br> +Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,<br> +A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,<br> +Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd,<br> +And now a bubble burst, and now a world.<br><br> + +Hope humbly then: with trembling pinions soar; <br> +Wait the great teacher Death; and God adore. <br> +What future bliss, he gives not thee to know, <br> +But gives that Hope to be thy blessing now. <br> +Hope springs eternal in the human breast:<br> +Man never Is, but always To be blest: <br> +The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home, <br> +Rests and expatiates in a life to come. <br><br> + +Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutor'd mind<br> +Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind:<br> +His soul, proud Science never taught to stray<br> +Far as the solar walk, or milky way;<br> +Yet simple Nature to his hope has giv'n,<br> +Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heav'n;<br> +Some safer world in depth of woods embrac'd,<br> +Some happier island in the watry waste,<br> +Where slaves once more their native land behold,<br> +No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold.<br> +To Be, contents his natural desire, <br> +He asks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire;<br> +But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,<br> +His faithful dog shall bear him company. </td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<table summary="Epistle1self4" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">IV</span></td> + <td width="80%">Go, wiser thou! and, in thy scale of sense,<br> +Weight thy Opinion against Providence; <br> +Call imperfection what thou fancy'st such,<br> +Say, here he gives too little, there too much:<br> +Destroy all Creatures for thy sport or gust,<br> +Yet cry, If Man's unhappy, God's unjust;<br> +If Man alone engross not Heav'n's high care,<br> +Alone made perfect here, immortal there:<br> +Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod,<br> +Re-judge his justice, be the God of God.<br> +In Pride, in reas'ning Pride, our error lies;<br> +All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies. <br><br> + +Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes,<br> +Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods. <br> +Aspiring to be Gods, if Angels fell, <br> +Aspiring to be Angels, Men rebel: <br> +And who but wishes to invert the laws <br> +Of <b>Order</b>, sins against th' Eternal Cause.</td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1self5" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">V</span></td> + <td width="80%">Ask for what end the heav'nly bodies shine,<br> +Earth for whose use? Pride answers, "'Tis for mine:<br> +For me kind Nature wakes her genial Pow'r,<br> +Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry flow'r;<br> +Annual for me, the grape, the rose renew<br> +The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew;<br> +For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings;<br> +For me, health gushes from a thousand springs;<br> +Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise;<br> +My foot-stool earth, my canopy the skies."<br><br> + +But errs not Nature from his gracious end,<br> +From burning suns when livid deaths descend,<br> +When earthquakes swallow, or when tempests sweep<br> +Towns to one grave, whole nations to the deep?<br> +"No, ('tis reply'd) the first Almighty Cause<br> +Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral laws;<br> +Th' exceptions few; some change since all began:<br> +And what created perfect?" — Why then Man?<br> +If the great end be human Happiness, <br> +Then Nature deviates; and can Man do less?<br> +As much that end a constant course requires<br> +Of show'rs and sun-shine, as of Man's desires;<br> +As much eternal springs and cloudless skies,<br> +As Men for ever temp'rate, calm, and wise.<br> +If plagues or earthquakes break not Heav'n's design,<br> +Why then a Borgia, or a Catiline?<br> +Who knows but he, whose hand the lightning forms, <br> +Who heaves old Ocean, and who wings the storms; <br> +Pours fierce Ambition in a Caesar's mind, <br> +Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind?<br> +From pride, from pride, our very reas'ning springs; <br> +Account for moral, as for nat'ral things: <br> +Why charge we Heav'n in those, in these acquit? <br> +In both, to reason right is to submit. <br><br> + +Better for Us, perhaps, it might appear,<br> +Were there all harmony, all virtue here;<br> +That never air or ocean felt the wind;<br> +That never passion discompos'd the mind.<br> +But <b>All</b> subsists by elemental strife; <br> +And Passions are the elements of Life.<br> +The gen'ral <b>Order</b>, since the whole began,<br> +Is kept in Nature, and is kept in Man. </td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +155<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1self6" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">VI</span></td> + <td width="80%">What would this Man? Now upward will he soar,<br> +And little less than Angel, would be more;<br> +Now looking downwards, just as griev'd appears<br> +To want the strength of bulls, the fur of bears.<br> +Made for his use all creatures if he call,<br> +Say what their use, had he the pow'rs of all?<br> +Nature to these, without profusion, kind,<br> +The proper organs, proper pow'rs assign'd;<br> +Each seeming want compensated of course,<br> +Here with degrees of swiftness, there of force;<br> +All in exact proportion to the state;<br> +Nothing to add, and nothing to abate. <br> +Each beast, each insect, happy in its own:<br> +Is Heav'n unkind to Man, and Man alone?<br> +Shall he alone, whom rational we call,<br> +Be pleas'd with nothing, if not bless'd with all? <br><br> + +The bliss of Man (could Pride that blessing find)<br> +Is not to act or think beyond mankind;<br> +No pow'rs of body or of soul to share, <br> +But what his nature and his state can bear. <br> +Why has not Man a microscopic eye? <br> +For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly. <br> +Say what the use, were finer optics giv'n,<br> +T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n? <br> +Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er, <br> +To smart and agonize at every pore? <br> +Or quick effluvia darting thro' the brain, <br> +Die of a rose in aromatic pain?<br> +If Nature thunder'd in his op'ning ears, <br> +And stunn'd him with the music of the spheres, <br> +How would he wish that Heav'n had left him still <br> +The whisp'ring Zephyr, and the purling rill? <br> +Who finds not Providence all good and wise,<br> +Alike in what it gives, and what denies? </td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +175<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +180<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +185<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +190<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +195<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +200<br><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +205<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1self7" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">VII</span></td> + <td width="80%">Far as Creation's ample range extends,<br> +The scale of sensual, mental pow'rs ascends:<br> +Mark how it mounts, to Man's imperial race,<br> +From the green myriads in the peopled grass:<br> +What modes of sight betwixt each wide extreme,<br> +The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam:<br> +Of smell, the headlong lioness between,<br> +And hound sagacious on the tainted green:<br> +Of hearing, from the life that fills the Flood,<br> +To that which warbles thro' the vernal wood:<br> +The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!<br> +Feels at each thread, and lives along the line:<br> +In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true<br> +From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew?<br> +How Instinct varies in the grov'lling swine,<br> +Compar'd, half-reas'ning elephant, with thine!<br> +'Twixt that, and Reason, what a nice barrier, <br> +For ever sep'rate, yet for ever near! <br> +Remembrance and Reflection how ally'd;<br> +What thin partitions Sense from Thought divide: <br> +And Middle natures, how they long to join, <br> +Yet never pass th' insuperable line! <br> +Without this just gradation, could they be <br> +Subjected, these to those, or all to thee?<br> +The pow'rs of all subdu'd by thee alone, <br> +Is not thy Reason all these pow'rs in one? </td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +<br> +210<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +215<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +220<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +225<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +230<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1self8" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">VIII</span></td> + <td width="80%">See, thro' this air, this ocean, and this earth,<br> +All matter quick, and bursting into birth.<br> +Above, how high, progressive life may go!<br> +Around, how wide! how deep extend below!<br> +Vast chain of Being! which from God began,<br> +Natures ethereal, human, angel, man,<br> +Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see,<br> +No glass can reach; from Infinite to thee,<br> +From thee to Nothing. — On superior pow'rs<br> +Were we to press, inferior might on ours:<br> +Or in the full creation leave a void,<br> +Where, one step broken, the great scale's destroy'd:<br> +From Nature's chain whatever link you strike,<br> +Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike. <br> + <br> +And, if each system in gradation roll<br> +Alike essential to th' amazing Whole,<br> +The least confusion but in one, not all <br> +That system only, but the Whole must fall.<br> +Let Earth unbalanc'd from her orbit fly,<br> +Planets and Suns run lawless thro' the sky;<br> +Let ruling Angels from their spheres be hurl'd,<br> +Being on Being wreck'd, and world on world;<br> +Heav'n's whole foundations to their centre nod,<br> +And Nature tremble to the throne of God. <br> +All this dread <b>Order</b> break — for whom? for thee?<br> +Vile worm! — Oh Madness! Pride! Impiety! </td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +235<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +240<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +245<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +250<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +255<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1self9" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">IX</span></td> + <td width="80%">What if the foot, ordain'd the dust to tread,<br> +Or hand, to toil, aspir'd to be the head?<br> +What if the head, the eye, or ear repin'd<br> +To serve mere engines to the ruling Mind?<br> +Just as absurd for any part to claim<br> +To be another, in this gen'ral frame: <br> +Just as absurd, to mourn the tasks or pains,<br> +The great directing <b>Mind</b> of <b>All</b> ordains. <br><br> + +All are but parts of one stupendous whole,<br> +Whose body Nature is, and God the soul;<br> +That, chang'd thro' all, and yet in all the same;<br> +Great in the earth, as in th' ethereal frame;<br> +Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,<br> +Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees,<br> +Lives thro' all life, extends thro' all extent,<br> +Spreads undivided, operates unspent; <br> +Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part,<br> +As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart:<br> +As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourns,<br> +As the rapt Seraph that adores and burns:<br> +To him no high, no low, no great, no small;<br> +He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.</td> + <td width="5%"><br> +260<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +265<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +270<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +275<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +280</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Epistle1self10" width="70%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td width="15%"><span style="font-size: 150%;">X</span></td> + <td width="80%">Cease then, nor <b>Order</b> Imperfection name:<br> +Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.<br> +Know thy own point: This kind, this due degree<br> +Of blindness, weakness, Heav'n bestows on thee.<br> +Submit. — In this, or any other sphere,<br> +Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear:<br> +Safe in the hand of one disposing Pow'r,<br> +Or in the natal, or the mortal hour.<br> +All Nature is but Art, unknown to thee; <br> +All Chance, Direction, which thou canst not see;<br> +All Discord, Harmony not understood; <br> +All partial Evil, universal Good: <br> +And, spite of Pride, in erring Reason's spite, <br> +One truth is clear, <b>Whatever Is, Is Right</b>. </td> + <td width="5%"><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +285<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +290<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section4">Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot</a></h2> +<br> +<a name="advertepist"></a><h3>Advertisement to the first publication of this <i>Epistle</i></h3><br> + +This paper is a sort of bill of complaint, begun many years since, and +drawn up by snatches, as the several occasions offered. I had no +thoughts of publishing it, till it pleased some Persons of Rank and +Fortune (the Authors of <i>Verses to the Imitator of Horace</i>, and of +an <i>Epistle to a Doctor of Divinity from a Nobleman at Hampton +Court</i>) to attack, in a very extraordinary manner, not only my +Writings (of which, being public, the Public is judge), but my +P<i>erson, Morals</i>, and <i>Family</i>, whereof, to those who know me +not, a truer information may be requisite. Being divided between the +necessity to say something of <i>myself</i>, and my own laziness to +undertake so awkward a task, I thought it the shortest way to put the +last hand to this Epistle. If it have any thing pleasing, it will be +that by which I am most desirous to please, the <i>Truth</i> and the +<i>Sentiment</i>; and if any thing offensive, it will be only to those I +am least sorry to offend, <i>the vicious</i> or <i>the ungenerous</i>.<br> +<br> +Many will know their own pictures in it, there being not a circumstance +but what is true; but I have, for the most part, spared their +<i>Names</i>, and they may escape being laughed at, if they please.<br> +<br> +I would have some of them know, it was owing to the request of the +learned and candid Friend to whom it is inscribed, that I make not as +free use of theirs as they have done of mine. However, I shall have this +advantage, and honour, on my side, that whereas, by their proceeding, +any abuse may be directed at any man, no injury can possibly be done by +mine, since a nameless character can never be found out, but by its +<i>truth</i> and <i>likeness</i>. <br> +<br> +P. <br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> +<a name="epiarbself"></a><h3>Epistle to Dr Arnuthnot</h3> +<br> +<table summary="epistle to d a" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td>P. shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said,<br> +Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead.<br> +The Dog-star rages! nay't is past a doubt,<br> +All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out:<br> +Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand,<br> +They rave, recite, and madden round the land. <br><br> + +What walls can guard me, or what shade can hide?<br> +They pierce my thickets, thro' my Grot they glide;<br> +By land, by water, they renew the charge;<br> +They stop the chariot, and they board the barge.<br> +No place is sacred, not the Church is free;<br> +Ev'n Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me;<br> +Then from the Mint walks forth the Man of rhyme,<br> +Happy to catch me just at Dinner-time. <br><br> + +Is there a Parson, much bemus'd in beer,<br> +A maudlin Poetess, a rhyming Peer,<br> +A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's soul to cross,<br> +Who pens a Stanza, when he should <i>engross</i>?<br> +Is there, who, lock'd from ink and paper, scrawls<br> +With desp'rate charcoal round his darken'd walls?<br> +All fly to <b>Twit'nam</b>, and in humble strain<br> +Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain.<br> +Arthur, whose giddy son neglects the Laws,<br> +Imputes to me and my damn'd works the cause:<br> +Poor Cornus sees his frantic wife elope,<br> +And curses Wit, and Poetry, and Pope. <br><br> + +Friend to my Life! (which did not you prolong,<br> +The world had wanted many an idle song)<br> +What <i>Drop</i> or <i>Nostrum</i> can this plague remove?<br> +Or which must end me, a Fool's wrath or love?<br> +A dire dilemma! either way I'm sped,<br> +If foes, they write, if friends, they read me dead.<br> +Seiz'd and tied down to judge, how wretched I!<br> +Who can't be silent, and who will not lie.<br> +To laugh, were want of goodness and of grace,<br> +And to be grave, exceeds all Pow'r of face.<br> +I sit with sad civility, I read<br> +With honest anguish, and an aching head; <br> +And drop at last, but in unwilling ears, <br> +This saving counsel, "Keep your piece nine years."<br><br> + +"Nine years!" cries he, who high in Drury-lane,<br> +Lull'd by soft Zephyrs thro' the broken pane,<br> +Rhymes ere he wakes, and prints before <i>Term</i> ends,<br> +Oblig'd by hunger, and request of friends:<br> +"The piece, you think, is incorrect? why, take it,<br> +I'm all submission, what you'd have it, make it."<br><br> + +Three things another's modest wishes bound,<br> +My Friendship, and a Prologue, and ten pound. <br><br> + +Pitholeon sends to me: "You know his Grace<br> +I want a Patron; ask him for a Place."<br> +"Pitholeon libell'd me," — "but here's a letter<br> +Informs you, Sir, 't was when he knew no better.<br> +Dare you refuse him? Curll invites to dine",<br> +"He'll write a <i>Journal</i>, or he'll turn Divine." <br><br> + +Bless me! a packet. — "'Tis a stranger sues,<br> +A Virgin Tragedy, an Orphan Muse."<br> +If I dislike it, "Furies, death and rage!"<br> +If I approve, "Commend it to the Stage."<br> +There (thank my stars) my whole Commission ends,<br> +The Play'rs and I are, luckily, no friends,<br> +Fir'd that the house reject him, "'Sdeath I'll print it,<br> +And shame the fools — Your Int'rest, Sir, with Lintot!"<br> +'Lintot, dull rogue! will think your price too much:'<br> +"Not, Sir, if you revise it, and retouch."<br> +All my demurs but double his Attacks;<br> +At last he whispers, "Do; and we go snacks."<br> +Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door,<br> +Sir, let me see your works and you no more. <br><br> + +'Tis sung, when Midas' Ears began to spring,<br> +(Midas, a sacred person and a king)<br> +His very Minister who spy'd them first, <br> +(Some say his Queen) was forc'd to speak, or burst.<br> +And is not mine, my friend, a sorer case,<br> +When ev'ry coxcomb perks them in my face?<br> +A. Good friend, forbear! you deal in dang'rous things.<br> +I'd never name Queens, Ministers, or Kings;<br> +Keep close to Ears, and those let asses prick;<br> +'Tis nothing — P. Nothing? if they bite and kick?<br> +Out with it, <b>Dunciad</b>! let the secret pass,<br> +That secret to each fool, that he's an Ass:<br> +The truth once told (and wherefore should we lie?)<br> +The Queen of Midas slept, and so may I.<br> + <br> +You think this cruel? take it for a rule,<br> +No creature smarts so little as a fool. <br> +Let peals of laughter, Codrus! round thee break,<br> +Thou unconcern'd canst hear the mighty crack:<br> +Pit, Box, and gall'ry in convulsions hurl'd,<br> +Thou stand'st unshook amidst a bursting world.<br> +Who shames a Scribbler? break one cobweb thro',<br> +He spins the slight, self-pleasing thread anew:<br> +Destroy his fib or sophistry, in vain,<br> +The creature's at his dirty work again,<br> +Thron'd in the centre of his thin designs,<br> +Proud of a vast extent of flimsy lines! <br> +Whom have I hurt? has Poet yet, or Peer<br> +Lost the arch'd eye-brow, or Parnassian sneer? <br><br> + + * * * * *<br> + <br> +Does not one table Bavius still admit? <br> +Still to one Bishop Philips seem a wit? <br> +Still Sappho — A. Hold! for God's sake — you 'll offend, <br> +No Names! — be calm! — learn prudence of a friend!<br> +I too could write, and I am twice as tall; <br> +But foes like these — P. One Flatt'rer's worse than all. <br> +Of all mad creatures, if the learn'd are right, <br> +It is the slaver kills, and not the bite. <br> +A fool quite angry is quite innocent:<br> +Alas! 'tis ten times worse when they <i>repent</i>. <br><br> + +One dedicates in high heroic prose,<br> +And ridicules beyond a hundred foes:<br> +One from all Grubstreet will my fame defend,<br> +And more abusive, calls himself my friend.<br> +This prints my <i>Letters</i>, that expects a bribe,<br> +And others roar aloud, "Subscribe, subscribe." <br><br> + +There are, who to my person pay their court:<br> +I cough like <i>Horace</i>, and, tho' lean, am short,<br> +<i>Ammon's</i> great son one shoulder had too high,<br> +Such <i>Ovid's</i> nose, and "Sir! you have an Eye" — <br> +Go on, obliging creatures, make me see<br> +All that disgrac'd my Betters, met in me.<br> +Say for my comfort, languishing in bed, <br> +"Just so immortal <i>Maro</i> held his head:"<br> +And when I die, be sure you let me know<br> +Great <i>Homer</i> died three thousand years ago. <br><br> + +Why did I write? what sin to me unknown<br> +Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own?<br> +As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, <br> +I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.<br> +I left no calling for this idle trade,<br> +No duty broke, no father disobey'd.<br> +The Muse but serv'd to ease some friend, not Wife,<br> +To help me thro' this long disease, my Life,<br> +To second, <b>Arbuthnot</b>! thy Art and Care,<br> +And teach the Being you preserv'd, to bear. <br><br> + +But why then publish? <i>Granville</i> the polite,<br> +And knowing <i>Walsh</i>, would tell me I could write;<br> +Well-natur'd <i>Garth</i> inflam'd with early praise;<br> +And <i>Congreve</i> lov'd, and <i>Swift</i> endur'd my lays;<br> +The courtly <i>Talbot, Somers, Sheffield</i>, read; <br> +Ev'n mitred <i>Rochester</i> would nod the head, <br> +And <i>St. John's</i> self (great <i>Dryden's</i> friends before) <br> +With open arms receiv'd one Poet more.<br> +Happy my studies, when by these approv'd! <br> +Happier their author, when by these belov'd! <br> +From these the world will judge of men and books, <br> +Not from the <i>Burnets, Oldmixons</i>, and <i>Cookes</i>. <br> + <br> +Soft were my numbers; who could take offence,<br> +While pure Description held the place of Sense?<br> +Like gentle <i>Fanny's</i> was my flow'ry theme,<br> +A painted mistress, or a purling stream.<br> +Yet then did <i>Gildon</i> draw his venal quill; — <br> +I wish'd the man a dinner, and sat still.<br> +Yet then did <i>Dennis</i> rave in furious fret;<br> +I never answer'd, — I was not in debt.<br> +If want provok'd, or madness made them print,<br> +I wag'd no war with <i>Bedlam</i> or the <i>Mint</i>. <br> + <br> +Did some more sober Critic come abroad;<br> +If wrong, I smil'd; if right, I kiss'd the rod.<br> +Pains, reading, study, are their just pretence,<br> +And all they want is spirit, taste, and sense.<br> +Commas and points they set exactly right,<br> +And 'twere a sin to rob them of their mite.<br> +Yet ne'er one sprig of laurel grac'd these ribalds,<br> +From slashing <i>Bentley</i> down to pidling <i>Tibalds</i>:<br> +Each wight, who reads not, and but scans and spells,<br> +Each Word-catcher, that lives on syllables,<br> +Ev'n such small Critics some regard may claim,<br> +Preserv'd in <i>Milton's</i> or in <i>Shakespeare's</i> name.<br> +Pretty! in amber to observe the forms<br> +Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms!<br> +The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,<br> +But wonder how the devil they got there.<br><br> + +Were others angry: I excus'd them too;<br> +Well might they rage, I gave them but their due.<br> +A man's true merit 'tis not hard to find;<br> +But each man's secret standard in his mind,<br> +That Casting-weight pride adds to emptiness,<br> +This, who can gratify? for who can <i>guess?</i><br> +The Bard whom pilfer'd Pastorals renown,<br> +Who turns a Persian tale for half a Crown,<br> +Just writes to make his barrenness appear,<br> +And strains, from hard-bound brains, eight lines a year;<br> +He, who still wanting, tho' he lives on theft,<br> +Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left:<br> +And He, who now to sense, now nonsense leaning,<br> +Means not, but blunders round about a meaning:<br> +And He, whose fustian's so sublimely bad,<br> +It is not Poetry, but prose run mad:<br> +All these, my modest Satire bade <i>translate</i>,<br> +And own'd that nine such Poets made a <i>Tate</i>.<br> +How did they fume, and stamp, and roar, and chafe!<br> +And swear, not <b>Addison</b> himself was safe.<br> + <br> +Peace to all such! but were there One whose fires<br> +True Genius kindles, and fair Fame inspires;<br> +Blest with each talent and each art to please,<br> +And born to write, converse, and live with ease:<br> +Should such a man, too fond to rule alone,<br> +Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.<br> +View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes,<br> +And hate for arts that caus'd himself to rise;<br> +Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,<br> +And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer;<br> +Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,<br> +Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike;<br> +Alike reserv'd to blame, or to commend. <br><br> + +A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend; <br> +Dreading ev'n fools, by Flatterers besieg'd,<br> +And so obliging, that he ne'er oblig'd; <br> +Like <i>Cato</i>, give his little Senate laws, <br> +And sit attentive to his own applause; <br> +While Wits and Templars ev'ry sentence raise, <br> +And wonder with a foolish face of praise: — <br> +Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? <br> +Who would not weep, if Atticus were he? <br><br> + +What tho' my Name stood rubric on the walls<br> +Or plaister'd posts, with claps, in capitals?<br> +Or smoking forth, a hundred hawkers' load,5<br> +On wings of winds came flying all abroad?<br> +I sought no homage from the Race that write;<br> +I kept, like Asian Monarchs, from their sight:<br> +Poems I heeded (now be-rhym'd so long)<br> +No more than thou, great George! a birth-day song.<br> +I ne'er with wits or witlings pass'd my days,<br> +To spread about the itch of verse and praise;<br> +Nor like a puppy, daggled thro' the town,<br> +To fetch and carry sing-song up and down;<br> +Nor at Rehearsals sweat, and mouth'd, and cry'd,<br> +With handkerchief and orange at my side;<br> +But sick of fops, and poetry, and prate,<br> +To Bufo left the whole Castalian state. <br><br> + +Proud as Apollo on his forked hill, <br> +Sat full-blown Bufo, puff'd by ev'ry quill;<br> +Fed with soft Dedication all day long.<br> +Horace and he went hand in hand in song.<br> +His Library (where busts of Poets dead<br> +And a true Pindar stood without a head,)<br> +Receiv'd of wits an undistinguish'd race,<br> +Who first his judgment ask'd, and then a place: <br> +Much they extoll'd his pictures, much his seat, <br> +And flatter'd ev'ry day, and some days eat: <br> +Till grown more frugal in his riper days, <br> +He paid some bards with port, and some with praise;<br> +To some a dry rehearsal saw assign'd, <br> +And others (harder still) he paid in kind. <br> +<i>Dryden</i> alone (what wonder?) came not nigh, <br> +<i>Dryden</i> alone escap'd this judging eye: <br> +But still the <i>Great</i> have kindness in reserve,<br> +He help'd to bury whom he help'd to starve. <br><br> + +May some choice patron bless each gray goose quill!<br> +May ev'ry <i>Bavius</i> have his <i>Bufo</i> still!<br> +So, when a Statesman wants a day's defence,<br> +Or Envy holds a whole week's war with Sense,<br> +Or simple pride for flatt'ry makes demands,<br> +May dunce by dunce be whistled off my hands!<br> +Blest be the <i>Great!</i> for those they take away.<br> +And those they left me; for they left me Gay;<br> +Left me to see neglected Genius bloom,<br> +Neglected die, and tell it on his tomb:<br> +Of all thy blameless life the sole return<br> +My Verse, and Queenb'ry weeping o'er thy urn. <br><br> + +Oh let me live my own, and die so too! <br> +(To live and die is all I have to do:)<br> +Maintain a Poet's dignity and ease,<br> +And see what friends, and read what books I please;<br> +Above a Patron, tho' I condescend<br> +Sometimes to call a minister my friend. <br> +I was not born for Courts or great affairs;<br> +I pay my debts, believe, and say my pray'rs;<br> +Can sleep without a Poem in my head;<br> +Nor know, if <i>Dennis</i> be alive or dead. <br><br> + +Why am I ask'd what next shall see the light? <br> +Heav'ns! was I born for nothing but to write?<br> +Has Life no joys for me? or, (to be grave) <br> +Have I no friend to serve, no soul to save? <br> +"I found him close with <i>Swift</i>" — 'Indeed? no doubt,' <br> +(Cries prating <i>Balbus</i>) 'something will come out.' <br> +'Tis all in vain, deny it as I will.<br> +'No, such a Genius never can lie still;' <br> +And then for mine obligingly mistakes <br> +The first Lampoon Sir <i>Will</i>, or <i>Bubo</i> makes. <br> +Poor guiltless I! and can I choose but smile, <br> +When ev'ry Coxcomb knows me by my <i>Style</i>?<br> + <br> +Curst be the verse, how well soe'er it flow,<br> +That tends to make one worthy man my foe,<br> +Give Virtue scandal, Innocence a fear,<br> +Or from the soft-eyed Virgin steal a tear!<br> +But he who hurts a harmless neighbour's peace,<br> +Insults fall'n worth, or Beauty in distress,<br> +Who loves a Lie, lame slander helps about,<br> +Who writes a Libel, or who copies out:<br> +That Fop, whose pride affects a patron's name,<br> +Yet absent, wounds an author's honest fame:<br> +Who can <i>your</i> merit <i>selfishly</i> approve.<br> +And show the <i>sense</i> of it without the <i>love</i>;<br> +Who has the vanity to call you friend,<br> +Yet wants the honour, injur'd, to defend;<br> +Who tells whate'er you think, whate'er you say,<br> +And, if he lie not, must at least betray:<br> +Who to the <i>Dean</i>, and <i>silver bell</i> can swear,<br> +And sees at <i>Canons</i> what was never there;<br> +Who reads, but with a lust to misapply,<br> +Make Satire a Lampoon, and Fiction, Lie.<br> +A lash like mine no honest man shall dread,<br> +But all such babbling blockheads in his stead. <br><br> + +Let <i>Sporus</i> tremble — A. What? that thing of silk,<br> +<i>Sporus</i>, that mere white curd of Ass's milk?<br> +Satire or sense, alas! can <i>Sporus</i> feel?<br> +Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?<br> +P. Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings,<br> +This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings;<br> +Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys,<br> +Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys:<br> +So well-bred spaniels civilly delight<br> +In mumbling of the game they dare not bite.<br> +Eternal smiles his emptiness betray,<br> +As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.<br> +Whether in florid impotence he speaks,<br> +And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks;<br> +Or at the ear of <i>Eve</i>, familiar Toad,<br> +Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad,<br> +In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, <br> +Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.<br> +(His wit all see-saw, between <i>that</i> and <i>this</i>,<br> +(Now high, now low, now master up, now miss,<br> +(And he himself one vile Antithesis.<br> +Amphibious thing! that acting either part,<br> +The trifling head or the corrupted heart,<br> +Fop at the toilet, flatt'rer at the board,<br> +Now trips a Lady, and now struts a Lord.<br> +<i>Eve's</i> tempter thus the Rabbins have exprest,<br> +A Cherub's face, a reptile all the rest; <br> +Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust;<br> +Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust. <br> + <br> +Not Fortune's worshipper, nor fashion's fool,<br> +Not Lucre's madman, nor Ambition's tool,<br> +Not proud, nor servile; — be one Poet's praise,<br> +That, if he pleas'd, he pleas'd by manly ways:<br> +That Flatt'ry, ev'n to Kings, he held a shame, <br> +And thought a Lie in verse or prose the same. <br> +That not in Fancy's maze he wander'd long, <br> +But stoop'd to Truth, and moraliz'd his song: <br> +That not for Fame, but Virtue's better end,<br> +He stood the furious foe, the timid friend, <br> +The damning critic, half approving wit, <br> +The coxcomb hit, or fearing to be hit; <br> +Laugh'd at the loss of friends he never had, <br> +The dull, the proud, the wicked, and the mad;<br> +The distant threats of vengeance on his head, <br> +The blow unfelt, the tear he never shed; <br> +The tale reviv'd, the lie so oft o'erthrown, <br> +Th' imputed trash, and dulness not his own; <br> +The morals blacken'd when the writings scape,<br> +The libell'd person, and the pictur'd shape; <br> +Abuse, on all he lov'd, or lov'd him, spread, <br> +A friend in exile, or a father, dead; <br> +The whisper, that to greatness still too near, <br> +Perhaps, yet vibrates on his <b>Sov'reign's</b> ear: — <br> +Welcome for thee, fair <i>Virtue</i>! all the past; <br> +For thee, fair Virtue! welcome ev'n the <i>last</i>! <br> + A. But why insult the poor, affront the great?<br> +P. A knave's a knave, to me, in ev'ry state:<br> +Alike my scorn, if he succeed or fail,<br> +<i>Sporus</i> at court, or <i>Japhet</i> in a jail<br> +A hireling scribbler, or a hireling peer,<br> +Knight of the post corrupt, or of the shire;<br> +If on a Pillory, or near a Throne,<br> +He gain his Prince's ear, or lose his own.<br> + Yet soft by nature, more a dupe than wit,<br> +<i>Sappho</i> can tell you how this man was bit;<br> +This dreaded Sat'rist <i>Dennis</i> will confess <br> +Foe to his pride, but friend to his distress: <br> +So humble, he has knock'd at <i>Tibbald's</i> door,<br> +Has drunk with <i>Cibber</i>, nay has rhym'd for <i>Moore</i>. <br> +Full ten years slander'd, did he once reply? <br> +Three thousand suns went down on <i>Welsted's</i> lie. <br> +To please a Mistress one aspers'd his life; <br> +He lash'd him not, but let her be his wife.<br> +Let <i>Budgel</i> charge low <i>Grubstreet</i> on his quill, <br> +And write whate'er he pleas'd, except his Will; <br> +Let the two <i>Curlls</i> of Town and Court, abuse <br> +His father, mother, body, soul, and muse. <br> +Yet why? that Father held it for a rule,<br> +It was a sin to call our neighbour fool: <br> +That harmless Mother thought no wife a whore: <br> +Hear this, and spare his family, <i>James Moore!</i> <br> +Unspotted names, and memorable long! <br> +If there be force in Virtue, or in Song.<br> + <br> +Of gentle blood (part shed in Honour's cause.<br> +While yet in <i>Britain</i> Honour had applause)<br> +Each parent sprung — A. What fortune, pray? — P. Their own, <br> +And better got, than <i>Bestia's</i> from the throne.<br> +Born to no Pride, inheriting no Strife,<br> +Nor marrying Discord in a noble wife,<br> +Stranger to civil and religious rage,<br> +The good man walk'd innoxious thro' his age.<br> +Nor Courts he saw, no suits would ever try,<br> +Nor dar'd an Oath, nor hazarded a Lie.<br> +Un-learn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art,<br> +No language, but the language of the heart.<br> +By Nature honest, by Experience wise,<br> +Healthy by temp'rance, and by exercise;<br> +His life, tho' long, to sickness past unknown,<br> +His death was instant, and without a groan. <br> +O grant me, thus to live, and thus to die! <br> +Who sprung from Kings shall know less joy than I. <br> + <br> +O Friend! may each domestic bliss be thine!<br> +Be no unpleasing Melancholy mine:<br> +Me, let the tender office long engage,<br> +To rock the cradle of reposing Age,<br> +With lenient arts extend a Mother's breath,<br> +Make Languor smile, and smooth the bed of Death,<br> +Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,<br> +And keep a while one parent from the sky!<br> +On cares like these if length of days attend,<br> +May Heav'n, to bless those days, preserve my friend,<br> +Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene,<br> +And just as rich as when he serv'd a <b>Queen</b>.<br> +A. Whether that blessing be deny'd or giv'n,<br> +Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heav'n.</td> +<td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +45<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br><br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +145<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +155<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +180<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +185<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +190<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +195<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +200<br><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +205<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +210<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +215<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +220<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +225<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +230<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +235<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +240<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +245<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +250<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +255<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +260<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +265<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +270<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +275<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +280<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +285<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +290<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +295<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +300<br><br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +305<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +310<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +315<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +320<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +325<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +330<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +335<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +340<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +345<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +350<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +355<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +360<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +365<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +370<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +375<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +380<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +385<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +390<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +395<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +400<br><br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +405<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +410<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +415<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> + +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + + + +<h2><a name="section5">Ode on Solitude</a></h2><br> + +<table summary="ode on solitude" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>Happy the man whose wish and care <br> + A few paternal acres bound,<br> +Content to breathe his native air,<br> + In his own ground. <br><br> + +Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,<br> + Whose flocks supply him with attire,<br> +Whose trees in summer yield him shade,<br> + In winter fire. <br><br> + +Blest, who can unconcern'dly find <br> + Hours, days, and years slide soft away,<br> +In health of body, peace of mind,<br> + Quiet by day, <br><br> + +Sound sleep by night; study and ease, <br> + Together mixt; sweet recreation; <br> +And Innocence, which most does please<br> + With meditation. <br><br> + +Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, <br> + Thus unlamented let me die,<br> +Steal from the world, and not a stone <br> + Tell where I lie.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +5<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +20</td> +</tr> +</table><br> + +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p> +<hr><br><br> + + +<h2><a name="section6">The Descent of Dullness</a></h2><br> + +<h3>from <i>The Dunciad</i>, Book IV.</h3> +<br> +<table summary="descent of dullness" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>In vain, in vain — the all-composing Hour<br> +Resistless falls: the Muse obeys the Pow'r.<br> +She comes! she comes! the sable Throne behold<br> +Of <i>Night</i> primĉval and of <i>Chaos</i> old!<br> +Before her, <i>Fancy's</i> gilded clouds decay,<br> +And all its varying Rain-bows die away.<br> +<i>Wit</i> shoots in vain its momentary fires,<br> +The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.<br> +As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,<br> +The sick'ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain;<br> +As Argus' eyes by Hermes' wand opprest,<br> +Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest;<br> +Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,<br> +<i>Art</i> after <i>Art</i> goes out, and all is Night.<br> +See skulking <i>Truth</i> to her old cavern fled,<br> +Mountains of Casuistry heap'd o'er her head!<br> +<i>Philosophy</i>, that lean'd on Heav'n before,<br> +Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.<br> +<i>Physic</i> of <i>Metaphysic</i> begs defence,<br> +And <i>Metaphysic</i> calls for aid on <i>Sense</i>!<br> +See <i>Mystery</i> to <i>Mathematics</i> fly!<br> +In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die.<br> +<i>Religion</i> blushing veils her sacred fires,<br> +And unawares <i>Morality</i> expires. <br> +For <i>public</i> Flame, nor <i>private</i>, dares to shine;<br> +Nor <i>human</i> Spark is left, nor Glimpse <i>divine</i>!<br> +Lo! thy dread Empire, <b>Chaos</b>! is restor'd;<br> +Light dies before thy uncreating word;<br> +Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall,<br> +And universal Darkness buries All.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + + +<h2><a name="section7">Epitaph on Gay</a></h2><br> + +<h3><i>In Westminster Abbey, 1732</i></h3><br> + +<table summary="Gay" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> + <td>Of Manners gentle, of Affections mild;<br> +In Wit, a Man; Simplicity, a Child:<br> +With native Humour temp'ring virtuous Rage,<br> +Form'd to delight at once and lash the age:<br> +Above Temptation, in a low Estate,<br> +And uncorrupted, ev'n among the Great:<br> +A safe Companion, and an easy Friend,<br> +Unblam'd thro' Life, lamented in thy End.<br> +These are Thy Honours! not that here thy Bust<br> +Is mix'd with Heroes, or with Kings thy dust;<br> +But that the Worthy and the Good shall say,<br> +Striking their pensive bosoms — <i>Here</i> lies <b>Gay</b>.</td> + <td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + + +<h2><a name="section8">Notes on <i>The Rape of the Lock</i></a></h2><br> +<h4>Introduction</h4><br> + +In 1711 Pope, who had just published his <i>Essay on Criticism</i>, was +looking about for new worlds to conquer. A fortunate chance threw in his +way a subject exactly suited to his tastes and powers. He seized upon +it, dashed off his first sketch in less than a fortnight, and published +it anonymously in a <i>Miscellany</i> issued by Lintot in 1712. But the +theme had taken firm root in his mind. Dissatisfied with his first +treatment of it, he determined, against the advice of the best critic of +the day, to recast the work, and lift it from a mere society <i>jeu +d'esprit</i> into an elaborate mock-heroic poem. He did so and won a +complete success. Even yet, however, he was not completely satisfied and +from time to time he added a touch to his work until he finally produced +the finished picture which we know as <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>. As it +stands, it is an almost flawless masterpiece, a brilliant picture and +light-hearted mockery of the gay society of Queen Anne's day, on the +whole the most satisfactory creation of Pope's genius, and, perhaps, the +best example of the mock-heroic in any literature.<br> +<br> +The occasion which gave rise to <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> has been so +often related that it requires only a brief restatement. Among the +Catholic families of Queen Anne's day, who formed a little society of +their own, Miss Arabella Fermor was a reigning belle. In a youthful +frolic which overstepped the bounds of propriety Lord Petre, a young +nobleman of her acquaintance, cut off a lock of her hair. The lady was +offended, the two families took up the quarrel, a lasting estrangement, +possibly even a duel, was threatened. At this juncture a common friend +of the two families, a Mr. Caryll, nephew of a well-known Jacobite exile +for whom he is sometimes mistaken, suggested to Pope "to write a poem to +make a jest of it," and so kill the quarrel with laughter. Pope +consented, wrote his first draft of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>, and +passed it about in manuscript. Pope says himself that it had its effect +in the two families; certainly nothing more is heard of the feud. How +Miss Fermor received the poem is a little uncertain. Pope complains in a +letter written some months after the poem had appeared in print that +"the celebrated lady is offended." According to Johnson she liked the +verses well enough to show them to her friends, and a niece of hers said +years afterward that Mr. Pope's praise had made her aunt "very +troublesome and conceited." It is not improbable that Belinda was both +flattered and offended. Delighted with the praise of her beauty she may +none the less have felt called upon to play the part of the offended +lady when the poem got about and the ribald wits of the day began to +read into it double meanings which reflected upon her reputation. To +soothe her ruffled feelings Pope dedicated the second edition of the +poem to her in a delightful letter in which he thanked her for having +permitted the publication of the first edition to forestall an imperfect +copy offered to a bookseller, declared that the character of Belinda +resembled her in nothing but in beauty, and affirmed that he could never +hope that his poem should pass through the world half so uncensured as +she had done. It would seem that the modern critics who have undertaken +to champion Miss Fermor against what they are pleased to term the +revolting behavior of the poet are fighting a needless battle. A pretty +girl who would long since have been forgotten sat as an unconscious +model to a great poet; he made her the central figure in a brilliant +picture and rendered her name immortal. That is the whole story, and +when carping critics begin to search the poem for the improprieties of +conduct to which they say Pope alluded, one has but to answer in Pope's +own words. + +<blockquote>If to her share some female errors fall,<br> +Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all. </blockquote> + +Pope's statement in the dedication that he had been forced into +publishing the first draft of the poem before his design of enlarging it +was half executed is probably to be taken, like many of his statements, +with a sufficient grain of salt. Pope had a curious habit of protesting +that he was forced into publishing his letters, poems, and other +trifles, merely to forestall the appearance of unauthorized editions. It +is more likely that it was the undoubted success of <i>The Rape of the +Lock</i> in its first form which gave him the idea of working up the +sketch into a complete mock-heroic poem.<br> +<br> +Examples of such a poem were familiar enough to Pope. Not to go back to +the pseudo-Homeric mock epic which relates the battle of the frogs and +mice, Vida in Italy and Boileau in France, with both of whom Pope, as +the <i>Essay on Criticism</i> shows, was well acquainted, had done work +of this kind. Vida's description of the game of chess in his <i>Scacchia +Ludus</i> certainly gave him the model for the game of ombre in the +third canto of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>; Boileau's <i>Lutrin</i> +probably suggested to him the idea of using the mock-heroic for the +purposes of satire.<br> +<br> +Now it was a dogma of the critical creed of the day, which Pope devoutly +accepted, that every epic must have a well-recognized "machinery." +Machinery, as he kindly explained to Miss Fermor, was a "term invented +by the critics to signify that part which the deities, angels, or demons +are made to act in a poem," in short for the whole supernatural element. +Such machinery was quite wanting in the first draft of the Rape; it must +be supplied if the poem was to be a true epic, even of the comic kind. +And the machinery must be of a nature which would lend itself to the +light satiric tone of the poem. What was it to be? The employment of +what we may call Christian machinery, the angels and devils of Tasso and +Milton, was, of course, out of the question. The employment of the +classic machinery was almost as impossible. It would have been hard for +such an admirer of the classics as Pope to have taken the deities of +Olympus otherwise than seriously. And even if he had been able to treat +them humorously, the humor would have been a form of burlesque quite at +variance with what he had set out to accomplish. For Pope's purpose, +springing naturally from the occasion which set him to writing the +<i>Rape</i>, was not to burlesque what was naturally lofty by exhibiting +it in a degraded light, but to show the true littleness of the trivial +by treating it in a grandiose and mock-heroic fashion, to make the +quarrel over the stolen lock ridiculous by raising it to the plane of +the epic contest before the walls of Troy.<br> +<br> +In his perplexity a happy thought, little less in fact than an +inspiration of genius, came to Pope. He had been reading a book by a +clever French abbé treating in a satiric fashion of the doctrines of the +so-called Rosicrucians, in particular of their ideas of elemental +spirits and the influence of these spirits upon human affairs. Here was +the machinery he was looking for made to his hand. There would be no +burlesque in introducing the Rosicrucian sylphs and gnomes into a +mock-heroic poem, for few people, certainly not the author of the +<i>Comte de Gabalis</i>, took them seriously. Yet the widespread +popularity of this book, to say nothing of the existence of certain +Rosicrucian societies, had rendered their names familiar to the society +for which Pope wrote. He had but to weave them into the action of his +poem, and the brilliant little sketch of society was transformed into a +true mock-epic.<br> +<br> +The manner in which this interweaving was accomplished is one of the +most satisfactory evidences of Pope's artistic genius. He was proud of +it himself. "The making the machinery, and what was published before, +hit so well together, is," he told Spencer, "I think, one of the +greatest proofs of judgment of anything I ever did." And he might well +be proud. Macaulay, in a well-known passage, has pointed out how seldom +in the history of literature such a recasting of a poem has been +successfully accomplished. But Pope's revision of <i>The Rape of the +Lock</i> was so successful that the original form was practically done +away with. No one reads it now but professed students of the literature +of Queen Anne's time. And so artfully has the new matter been woven into +the old that if the recasting of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> were not a +commonplace even in school histories of English literature, not one +reader in a hundred would suspect that the original sketch had been +revised and enlarged to more than twice its length. It would be an +interesting task for the student to compare the two forms printed in +this edition, to note exactly what has been added, and the reasons for +its addition, and to mark how Pope has smoothed the junctures and +blended the old and the new. Nothing that he could do would admit him +more intimately to the secrets of Pope's mastery of his art.<br> +<br> +A word must be said in closing as to the merits of <i>The Rape of the +Lock</i> and its position in English literature. In the first place it +is an inimitable picture of one phase, at least, of the life of the +time, of the gay, witty, heartless society of Queen Anne's day. Slowly +recovering from the licentious excesses of the Restoration, society at +this time was perhaps unmoral rather than immoral. It was quite without +ideals, unless indeed the conventions of "good form" may be dignified by +that name. It lacked the brilliant enthusiasm of Elizabethan times as +well as the religious earnestness of the Puritans and the devotion to +patriotic and social ideals which marked a later age. Nothing, perhaps, +is more characteristic of the age than its attitude toward women. It +affected indeed a tone of high-flown adoration which thinly veiled a +cynical contempt. It styled woman a goddess and really regarded her as +little better than a doll. The passion of love had fallen from the high +estate it once possessed and become the mere relaxation of the idle +moments of a man of fashion.<br> +<br> +In the comedies of Congreve, for example, a lover even if honestly in +love thinks it as incumbent upon him to make light of his passion before +his friends as to exaggerate it in all the forms of affected compliment +before his mistress.<br> +<br> +In <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> Pope has caught and fixed forever the +atmosphere of this age. It is not the mere outward form and +circumstance, the manners and customs, the patching, powdering, ogling, +gambling, of the day that he has reproduced, though his account of these +would alone suffice to secure the poem immortality as a contribution to +the history of society. The essential spirit of the age breathes from +every line. No great English poem is at once so brilliant and so empty, +so artistic, and yet so devoid of the ideals on which all high art +rests. It is incorrect, I think, to consider Pope in <i>The Rape of the +Lock</i> as the satirist of his age. He was indeed clever enough to +perceive its follies, and witty enough to make sport of them, but it is +much to be doubted whether he was wise enough at this time to raise his +eyes to anything better. In the social satires of Pope's great admirer, +Byron, we are at no loss to perceive the ideal of personal liberty which +the poet opposes to the conventions he tears to shreds. Is it possible +to discover in <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> any substitute for Belinda's +fancies and the Baron's freaks? The speech of Clarissa which Pope +inserted as an afterthought to point the moral of the poem recommends +Belinda to trust to merit rather than to charms. But "merit" is +explicitly identified with good humor, a very amiable quality, but +hardly of the highest rank among the moral virtues. And the avowed end +and purpose of "merit" is merely to preserve what beauty gains, the +flattering attentions of the other sex, — surely the lowest ideal ever +set before womankind. The truth is, I think, that <i>The Rape of the +Lock</i> represents Pope's attitude toward the social life of his time +in the period of his brilliant youth. He was at once dazzled, amused, +and delighted by the gay world in which he found himself. The apples of +pleasure had not yet turned to ashes on his lips, and it is the poet's +sympathy with the world he paints which gives to the poem the air, most +characteristic of the age itself, of easy, idle, unthinking gayety. We +would not have it otherwise. There are sermons and satires in abundance +in English literature, but there is only one <i>Rape of the Lock</i>.<br> +<br> +The form of the poem is in perfect correspondence with its spirit. There +is an immense advance over the <i>Essay on Criticism</i> in ease, +polish, and balance of matter and manner. And it is not merely in +matters of detail that the supremacy of the latter poem is apparent. +<i>The Rape of the Lock</i> is remarkable among all Pope's longer +poems as the one complete and perfect whole. It is no mosaic of +brilliant epigrams, but an organic creation. It is impossible to detach +any one of its witty paragraphs and read it with the same pleasure it +arouses when read in its proper connection. Thalestris' call to arms and +Clarissa's moral reproof are integral parts of the poem. And as a +result, perhaps, of its essential unity <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> +bears witness to the presence of a power in Pope that we should hardly +have suspected from his other works, the power of dramatic +characterization. Elsewhere he has shown himself a master of brilliant +portraiture, but Belinda, the Baron, and Thalestris are something more +than portraits. They are living people, acting and speaking with +admirable consistency. Even the little sketch of Sir Plume is instinct +with life.<br> +<br> +Finally <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>, in its limitations and defects, no +less than in its excellencies, represents a whole period of English +poetry, the period which reaches with but few exceptions from Dryden to +Wordsworth. The creed which dominated poetic composition during this +period is discussed in the <a href="#section2">introduction</a> to the <i>Essay on Criticism</i>, and is admirably illustrated in that poem itself. Its repression +of individuality, its insistence upon the necessity of following in the +footsteps of the classic poets, and of checking the outbursts of +imagination by the rules of common sense, simply incapacitated the poets +of the period from producing works of the highest order. And its +insistence upon man as he appeared in the conventional, urban society of +the day as the one true theme of poetry, its belief that the end of +poetry was to instruct and improve either by positive teaching or by +negative satire, still further limited its field. One must remember in +attempting an estimate of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> that it was +composed with an undoubting acceptance of this creed and within all +these narrowing limitations. And when this is borne in mind, it is +hardly too much to say that the poem attains the highest point possible. +In its treatment of the supernatural it is as original as a poem could +be at that day. The brilliancy of its picture of contemporary society +could not be heightened by a single stroke. Its satire is swift and +keen, but never ill natured. And the personality of Pope himself shines +through every line. Johnson advised authors who wished to attain a +perfect style to give their days and nights to a study of Addison. With +equal justice one might advise students who wish to catch the spirit of +our so-called Augustan age, and to realize at once the limitations and +possibilities of its poetry, to devote themselves to the study of <i>The +Rape of the Lock</i>. <br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<table summary="cribs" width="100%" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><th>line</th><th>reference</th><th>meaning</th> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Dedication</h4> +</td><td>Mrs. Arabella</td><td>the title of Mrs. was still given in Pope's time +to unmarried ladies as soon as they were old enough to enter society.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>the Rosicrucian doctrine</td><td>the first mention of the Rosicrucians +is in a book published in Germany in 1614, inviting all scholars to join +the ranks of a secret society said to have been founded two centuries +before by a certain Christian Rosenkreuz who had mastered the hidden +wisdom of the East. It seems probable that this book was an elaborate +hoax, but it was taken seriously at the time, and the seventeenth +century saw the formation of numerous groups of "Brothers of the Rosy +Cross." They dabbled in alchemy, spiritualism, and magic, and mingled +modern science with superstitions handed down from ancient times. Pope +probably knew nothing more of them than what he had read in <i>Le Comte +de Gabalis</i>.<br> +<br> +This was the work of a French abbé, de Montfaucon Villars (1635-1673), +who was well known in his day both as a preacher and a man of letters. +It is really a satire upon the fashionable mystical studies, but treats +in a tone of pretended seriousness of secret sciences, of elemental +spirits, and of their intercourse with men. It was translated into +English in 1680 and again in 1714. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Canto I</h4> +</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>1-2</b></td><td></td><td>Pope opens his mock-epic with the usual epic formula, +the statement of the subject. Compare the first lines of the +<i>Iliad</i>, the <i>Ĉneid</i>, and <i>Paradise Lost</i>. In l. 7 he +goes on to call upon the "goddess," i.e. the muse, to relate the cause +of the rape. This, too, is an epic formula. Compare <i>Ĉneid</i>, I, 8, +and <i>Paradise Lost</i>, I, 27-33.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>3</b></td><td>Caryl</td><td>see <a href="#section8">Introduction</a>. In accordance with his wish his +name was not printed in the editions of the poem that came out in Pope's +lifetime, appearing there only as C — — or C — — l.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>4</b></td><td>Belinda</td><td>a name used by Pope to denote Miss Fermor, the heroine +of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>12</b></td><td></td><td> This line is almost a translation of a line in the +<i>Ĉneid</i> (I, 11), where Virgil asks if it be possible that such +fierce passions (as Juno's) should exist in the minds of gods.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>13</b></td><td>Sol</td><td>a good instance of the fondness which Pope shared with +most poets of his time for giving classical names to objects of nature. +This trick was supposed to adorn and elevate poetic diction. Try to find +other instances of this in <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td></td><td>Why is the sun's ray called "tim'rous"?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>16</b></td><td></td><td> It was an old convention that lovers were so troubled by their +passion that they could not sleep. In the <i>Prologue to the Canterbury +Tales</i> (ll. 97-98), Chaucer says of the young squire: + +<blockquote>So hote he lovede, that by nightertale<br> + He sleep namore than dooth a nightingale. </blockquote> + +Pope, of course, is laughing at the easy-going lovers of his day who in +spite of their troubles sleep very comfortably till noon.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>17</b></td><td></td><td> The lady on awaking rang a little hand-bell that stood on a +table by her bed to call her maid. Then as the maid did not appear at +once she tapped impatiently on the floor with the heel of her slipper. +The watch in the next line was a repeater.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>19</b></td><td></td><td>All the rest of this canto was added in the second edition of +the poem. See pp. 84-86. Pope did not notice that he describes Belinda +as waking in I. 14 and still asleep and dreaming in II. 19-116.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>20</b></td><td> guardian Sylph</td><td>compare ll. 67-78</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>23</b></td><td>a Birth-night Beau</td><td>a fine gentleman in his best clothes, such +as he would wear at a ball on the occasion of a royal birthday.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>30</b></td><td></td><td>The nurse would have told Belinda the old tales of fairies who +danced by moonlight on rings in the greensward, and dropped silver coins +into the shoes of tidy little maids. The priest, on the other hand, +would have repeated to her the legend of St. Cecilia and her guardian +angel who once appeared in bodily form to her husband holding two rose +garlands gathered in Paradise, or of St. Dorothea, who sent an angel +messenger with a basket of heavenly fruits and flowers to convert the +pagan Theophilus.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>42</b></td><td>militia</td><td>used here in the general sense of "soldiery."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>44</b></td><td>the box</td><td> in the theater.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>the ring</td><td>the drive in Hyde Park, where the ladies of society took the +air.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>46</b></td><td>a chair</td><td>a sedan chair in which ladies used to be carried +about. Why is Belinda told to scorn it?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>50</b></td><td></td><td>What is the meaning of "vehicles" in this line?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>56</b></td><td>Ombre</td><td>the fashionable game of cards in Pope's day. See his +account of a game in Canto III and the notes on that passage.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>57-67</b></td><td></td><td> See <a href="#section8"><i>Introduction</i></a></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>69-70</b></td><td></td><td>Compare <i>Paradise Lost</i>, I, 423-431.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>79</b></td><td></td><td>conscious of their face: proud of their beauty.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>81</b></td><td>These</td><td>the gnomes who urge the vain beauties to disdain all +offers of love and play the part of prudes.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>85</b></td><td>garters, stars, and coronets</td><td>the garter is the badge of the +Knights of the Garter, an order founded by Edward III, to which only +noble princes and noblemen of the highest rank were admitted. "Stars" +are the jeweled decorations worn by members of other noble orders. +"Coronets" are the inferior crowns worn by princes and nobles, not by +sovereigns.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>86</b></td><td>"Your Grace"</td><td> the title bestowed in England on a duchess — The +idea in this passage, ll. 83-86, is that the gnomes fill the girls' +minds with hopes of a splendid marriage and so induce them to "deny +love."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>94</b></td><td>impertinence</td><td> purposeless flirtation.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>97-98</b></td><td>Florio ... Damon</td><td> poetic names for fine gentlemen; no +special individuals are meant.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>100</b></td><td></td><td>Why is a woman's heart called a "toy-shop"?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>101</b></td><td>Sword-knots</td><td> tassels worn at the hilts of swords. In Pope's +day every gentleman carried a sword, and these sword-knots were often +very gay.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>105</b></td><td>who thy protection claim</td><td>what is the exact meaning of his +phrase?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>108</b></td><td>thy ruling Star</td><td> the star that controls thy destinies, a +reference to the old belief in astrology.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>115</b></td><td>Shock</td><td>Belinda's pet dog. His name would seem to show that he +was a rough-haired terrier.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>118</b></td><td></td><td>Does this line mean that Belinda had never seen a billet-doux +before?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>119</b></td><td>Wounds, Charms, and Ardors</td><td>the usual language of a +love-letter at this time.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>124</b></td><td>the Cosmetic pow'rs</td><td>the deities that preside over a lady's +toilet. Note the playful satire with which Pope describes Belinda's +toilet as if it were a religious ceremony. Who is "th' inferior +priestess" in l. 127?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>131</b></td><td>nicely</td><td>carefully.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>134</b></td><td>Arabia</td><td> famous for its perfumes.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>145</b></td><td>set the head</td><td>arrange the head-dress.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>147</b></td><td>Betty</td><td>Belinda's maid.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Canto II</h4> +</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>4</b></td><td>Launch'd</td><td>embarked</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>25</b></td><td>springes</td><td>snares</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>26</b></td><td>the finny prey</td><td>a characteristic instance of Pope's preference +or circumlocution to a direct phrase.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>35-36</b></td><td></td><td>A regular formula in classical epics. In Virgil (XI, +794-795) Phœbus grants part of the prayer of Arruns; the other part he +scatters to the light winds.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>38</b></td><td>vast French Romances</td><td>these romances were the customary +reading of society in Pope's day when there were as yet no English +novels. Some of them were of enormous length. Addison found several of +them in a typical lady's library, great folio volumes, finely bound in +gilt (<i>Spectator</i>, 37).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>58</b></td><td> All but the Sylph</td><td> so in Homer (1-25), while all the rest of +the army is sleeping Agamemnon is disturbed by fear of the doom +impending over the Greeks at the hands of Hector.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>60</b></td><td>Waft</td><td>wave, or flutter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>70</b></td><td>Superior by the head</td><td>so in Homer (<i>Iliad</i>, III, 225-227) +Ajax is described as towering over the other Greeks by head and +shoulders.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>73</b></td><td>sylphids</td><td>a feminine form of "sylphs."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>74</b></td><td></td><td> This formal opening of Ariel's address to his followers is a +parody of a passage in <i>Paradise Lost</i>, V, 600-601.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>75</b></td><td>spheres</td><td>either "worlds" or in a more general sense "regions."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>79</b></td><td></td><td>What are the "wandering orbs," and how do they differ from +planets in l. 80?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>97</b></td><td>a wash</td><td>a lotion for the complexion.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>105</b></td><td></td><td>Diana, the virgin huntress, was in a peculiar sense the +goddess of chastity.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>106</b></td><td>China jar</td><td>the taste for collecting old china was +comparatively new in England at this time. It had been introduced from +Holland by Queen Anne's sister, Queen Mary, and was eagerly caught up by +fashionable society.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>113</b></td><td>The drops</td><td> the diamond earrings.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>118</b></td><td>the Petticoat</td><td>the huge hoop skirt which had recently become +fashionable. Addison, in a humorous paper in the <i>Tatler</i> (No. +116), describes one as about twenty-four yards in circumference.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>128</b></td><td>bodkin</td><td>a large needle.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>133</b></td><td>rivel'd</td><td>an obsolete raiment of "obrivelled."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>133</b></td><td>Ixion</td><td> according to classical mythology Ixion was punished +for his sins by being bound forever upon a whirling wheel.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>134</b></td><td>Mill</td><td> the mill in which cakes of chocolate were ground up +preparatory to making the beverage.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>138</b></td><td>orb in orb</td><td>in concentric circles.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>139</b></td><td>thrid</td><td>a variant form of "thread." </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Canto III</h4> +</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>3</b></td><td>a structure</td><td>Hampton Court, a palace on the Thames, a few miles +above London. It was begun by Wolsey, and much enlarged by William III. +Queen Anne visited it occasionally, and cabinet meetings were sometimes +held there. Pope insinuates (l. 6) that the statesmen who met in these +councils were as interested in the conquest of English ladies as of +foreign enemies.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>8</b></td><td></td><td> Tea was still in Queen Anne's day a luxury confined to the +rich. It cost, in 1710, from twelve to twenty-eight shillings per pound.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>9</b></td><td>The heroes and the nymphs</td><td> the boating party which started for +Hampton Court in Canto II.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>17</b></td><td></td><td>Snuff-taking had just become fashionable at this time. The +practice is said to date from 1702, when an English admiral brought back +fifty tons of snuff found on board some Spanish ships which he had +captured in Vigo Bay.<br> +<br> +In the <i>Spectator</i> for August 8, 1711, a mock advertisement is +inserted professing to teach "the exercise of the snuff-box according to +the most fashionable airs and motions," and in the number for April +4, 1712, Steele protests against "an impertinent custom the fine women +have lately fallen into of taking snuff."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>22</b></td><td>dine</td><td>the usual dinner hour in Queen Anne's reign was about 3 +P.M. Fashionable people dined at 4, or later. This allowed the +fashionable lady who rose at noon time to do a little shopping and +perform "the long labours of the toilet."</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>26</b></td><td>two ... Knights</td><td>one of these was the baron, see l. 66.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>27</b></td><td>Ombre</td><td>a game of cards invented in Spain. It takes its name +from the Spanish phrase originally used by the player who declared +trumps: "Yo soy l'hombre," <i>i. e.</i> I am the man. It could be played +by three, five, or nine players, but the usual number was three as here. +Each of these received nine cards, and one of them named the trump and +thus became the "ombre," who played against the two others. If either of +the ombre's opponents took more tricks than the ombre, it was "codille" +(l. 92). This meant that the opponent took the stake and the ombre had +to replace it for the next hand.<br> +<br> +A peculiar feature of ombre is the rank, or value, of the cards. The +three best cards were called "matadores," a Spanish word meaning +"killers." The first of these matadores was "Spadillio," the ace of +spades; the third was "Basto," the ace of clubs. The second, "Manillio," +varied according to the suit. If a black suit were declared, Maniilio +was the two of trumps; if a red suit, Manillio was the seven of trumps. +It is worth noting also that the red aces were inferior to the face +cards of their suits except when a red suit was trump.<br> +<br> +A brief analysis of the game played on this occasion will clear up the +passage and leave the reader free to admire the ingenuity with which +Pope has described the contest in terms of epic poetry.<br> +<br> +Belinda declares spades trumps and so becomes the "ombre." She leads one +after the other the three matadores; and takes three tricks. She then +leads the next highest card, the king of spades, and wins a fourth +trick. Being out of trumps she now leads the king of clubs; but the +baron, who has actually held more spades than Belinda, trumps it with +the queen of spades. All the trumps are now exhausted and the baron's +long suit of diamonds is established. He takes the sixth, seventh, and +eighth tricks with the king, queen, and knave of diamonds, respectively. +Everything now depends on the last trick, since Belinda and the baron +each have taken four. The baron leads the ace of hearts and Belinda +takes it with the king, thus escaping "codille" and winning the stake.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>30</b></td><td>the sacred nine</td><td>the nine Muses.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>41</b></td><td>succint</td><td>tucked up.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>54</b></td><td>one Plebeian card</td><td>one of Belinda's opponents is now out of +trumps and discards a low card on her lead.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>61</b></td><td>Pam</td><td>a term applied to the knave of clubs which was always the +highest card in Lu, another popular game of that day.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>74</b></td><td>the globe</td><td>the jeweled ball which forms one of the regalia of +a monarch. The aspect of playing cards has changed not a little since +Pope's day, but the globe is still to be seen on the king of clubs.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>79</b></td><td>Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts</td><td>these are the losing cards played by +Belinda and the third player on the baron's winning diamonds.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>99</b></td><td></td><td> Pope's old enemy, Dennis, objected to the impropriety of +Belinda's filling the sky with exulting shouts, and some modern critics +have been foolish enough to echo his objection. The whole scene is a +masterpiece of the mock-heroic. The game is a battle, the cards are +warriors, and Belinda's exclamations of pleasure at winning are in the +same fashion magnified into the cheers of a victorious army.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>100</b></td><td>long canals</td><td>the canals which run through the splendid +gardens of Hampton Court, laid out by William III in the Dutch fashion.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>106</b></td><td>The berries crackle</td><td> it would seem from this phrase that +coffee was at that time roasted as well as ground in the drawing-room. +In a letter written shortly after the date of this poem Pope describes +Swift as roasting coffee "with his own hands in an engine made for that +purpose."<br> +<br> +Coffee had been introduced into England about the middle of the +seventeenth century. In 1657 a barber who had opened one of the first +coffeehouses in London was indicted for "making and selling a sort of +liquor called coffee, as a great nuisance and prejudice of the +neighborhood." In Pope's time there were nearly three thousand +coffee-houses in London.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>The mill</td><td> the coffee-mill.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>107</b></td><td>Altars of Japan</td><td>japanned stands for the lamps.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>117-118</b></td><td></td><td>The parenthesis in these lines contains a hit at the +would-be omniscient politicians who haunted the coffee-houses of Queen +Anne's day, and who professed their ability to see through all problems +of state with their eyes half-shut. Pope jestingly attributes their +wisdom to the inspiring power of coffee.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>122</b></td><td>Scylla</td><td> the daughter of King Nisus in Grecian legends. Nisus +had a purple hair and so long as it was untouched he was unconquerable. +Scylla fell in love with one of his enemies and pulled out the hair +while Nisus slept. For this crime she was turned into a bird. The story +is told in full in Ovid's <i>Metamorphoses</i>, Bk. VIII.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>127</b></td><td>Clarissa</td><td> it does not appear that Pope had any individual +lady in mind. We do not know, at least, that any lady instigated or +aided Lord Petre to cut off the lock.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>144</b></td><td>An earthly Lover</td><td>we know nothing of any love affair of Miss +Fermor's. Pope mentions the "earthly lover" here to account for Ariel's +desertion of Belinda, for he could only protect her so long as she +"rejected mankind"; compare Canto I, ll. 67-68.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>147</b></td><td>Forfex</td><td>a Latin word meaning scissors.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>152</b> </td><td></td><td>Pope borrowed this idea from Milton, who represents the wound +inflicted on Satan, by the Archangel Michael as healing immediately: + +<blockquote> Th' ethereal substance closed <br> +Not long divisible.</blockquote> + +<i>Paradise Lost</i>, VI, 330-331.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>165</b></td><td>Atalantis</td><td><i>The New Atalantis</i>, a four-volume +"cornucopia of scandal" involving almost every public character of the +day, was published by a Mrs. Manley in 1709. It was very widely read. +The Spectator found it, along with a key which revealed the identities +of its characters, in the lady's library already mentioned +(<i>Spectator</i>, No. 37).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>166</b></td><td>the small pillow</td><td>a richly decorated pillow which fashionable +ladies used to prop them up in bed when they received morning visits +from gentlemen. Addison gives an account of such a visit in the +<i>Spectator</i>, No. 45.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>167</b></td><td>solemn days</td><td>days of marriage or mourning, on which at this +time formal calls were paid.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>173</b></td><td>the labour of the gods</td><td> the walls of Troy built by Apollo +and Neptune for King Laomedon.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>178</b></td><td>unresisted</td><td>irresistible.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Canto IV</h4> +</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>8</b></td><td>Cynthia</td><td>a fanciful name for any fashionable lady. No +individual is meant.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>manteau</td><td> a loose upper garment for women.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>16</b></td><td>Spleen</td><td>the word is used here as a personification of +melancholy, or low spirits. It was not an uncommon affectation in +England at this time. A letter to the <i>Spectator</i>, No. 53, calls it +"the distemper of the great and the polite."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>17</b></td><td>the Gnome</td><td> Umbriel, who in accordance with his nature now +proceeds to stir up trouble. Compare Canto I, ll. 63-64.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>20</b></td><td></td><td>The bitter east wind which put every one into a bad humor was +supposed to be one of the main causes of the spleen.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>23</b></td><td>She</td><td> the goddess of the spleen. Compare l. 79.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>84</b></td><td>Megrim</td><td> headache.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>29</b></td><td>store</td><td>a large supply.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>38</b></td><td>night-dress</td><td>the modern dressing-gown. The line means that +whenever a fashionable beauty bought a new dressing-gown she pretended +to be ill in order to show her new possession to sympathetic friends who +called on her.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>40</b></td><td>phantoms</td><td>these are the visions, dreadful or delightful, of +the disordered imagination produced by spleen.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>43</b></td><td>snakes on rolling spires</td><td> like the serpent which Milton +describes in <i>Paradise Lost</i>, IX, 501-502, "erect amidst his +circling spires."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>46</b></td><td>angels in machines</td><td> angels coming to help their votaries. The +word "machine" here has an old-fashioned technical sense. It was first +used to describe the apparatus by which a god was let down upon the +stage of the Greek theater. Since a god was only introduced at a +critical moment to help the distressed hero, the phrase, "deus ex +machina," came to mean a god who rendered aid. Pope transfers it here to +angels.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>47</b></td><td>throngs</td><td> Pope now describes the mad fancies of people so +affected by spleen as to imagine themselves transformed to inanimate +objects.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>51</b></td><td>pipkin</td><td>a little jar. Homer (<i>Iliad</i>, XVIII, 373-377) +tells how Vulcan had made twenty wonderful tripods on living wheels that +moved from place to place of their own accord.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>52</b></td><td></td><td>Pope in a note to this poem says that a lady of his time +actually imagined herself to be a goose-pie.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>56</b></td><td>A branch</td><td>so Ĉneas bore a magic branch to protect him when he +descended to the infernal regions (<i>Ĉneid</i>, VI, +136-143).</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>Spleenwort</td><td>a sort of fern which was once supposed to +be a remedy against the spleen.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>58</b></td><td>the sex</td><td>women.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>59</b></td><td>vapours</td><td>a form of spleen to which women were supposed to be +peculiarly liable, something like our modern hysteria. It seems to have +taken its name from the fogs of England which were thought to cause it.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>65</b></td><td>a nymph</td><td>Belinda, who had always been so light-hearted that +she had never been a victim of the spleen.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>89</b></td><td>Citron-waters</td><td>a liqueur made by distilling brandy with the +rind of citrons. It was a fashionable drink for ladies at this time.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>71</b></td><td></td><td>Made men suspicious of their wives.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>82</b></td><td>Ulysses</td><td>Homer (<i>Odyssey</i>, X, 1-25) tells how Ĉolus, the +god of the winds, gave Ulysses a wallet of oxhide in which all the winds +that might oppose his journey homeward were closely bound up.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>89</b></td><td>Thalestris</td><td> the name of a warlike queen of the Amazons. Pope +uses it here for a friend of Belinda's, who excites her to revenge +herself for the rape of her lock. It is said that this friend was a +certain Mrs. Morley.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>102</b></td><td>loads of lead</td><td>curl papers used to be fastened with strips of lead. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>105</b></td><td>Honour</td><td>female reputation.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>109</b></td><td>toast</td><td>a slang term in Pope's day for a reigning beauty whose +health was regularly drunk by her admirers. Steele (<i>Tatler</i>, No. +24) says that the term had its rise from an accident that happened at +Bath in the reign of Charles II. A famous beauty was bathing there in +public, and one of her admirers filled a glass with the water in which +she stood and drank her health. + +<blockquote> "There was in the place," says Steele "a +gay fellow, half-fuddled, who offered to jump in, and swore though he +liked not the liquor, he would have the Toast. He was opposed in his +resolution; yet this whim gave foundation to the present honor which is +done to the lady we mention in our liquors, who has ever since been +called a <b>Toast</b>." </blockquote> + +To understand the point of the story one must know that +it was an old custom to put a bit of toast in hot drinks.<br> +<br> +In this line in the poem Thalestris insinuates that if Belinda submits +tamely to the rape of the lock, her position as a toast will be +forfeited.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>113-116</b></td><td></td><td> Thalestris supposes that the baron will have the lock set +in a ring under a bit of crystal. Old-fashioned hair-rings of this kind +are still to be seen.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>117</b></td><td>Hyde-park Circus</td><td> the Ring of Canto I, l. 44. Grass was not +likely to grow there so long as it remained the fashionable place to +drive.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>118</b></td><td>in the sound of Bow</td><td>within hearing of the bells of the +church of St. Mary le Bow in Cheapside. So far back as Ben Jonson's time +(<i>Eastward Ho</i>, I, ii, 36) it was the mark of the unfashionable +middle-class citizen to live in this quarter. A "wit" in Queen Anne's +day would have scorned to lodge there.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>121</b></td><td>Sir Plume</td><td> this was Sir George Brown, brother of Mrs. Morley +(Thalestris). He was not unnaturally offended at the picture drawn of +him in this poem. Pope told a friend many years later that<blockquote> "nobody was +angry but Sir George Brown, and he was a good deal so, and for a long +time. He could not bear that Sir Plume should talk nothing but +nonsense."</blockquote></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>124</b></td><td>a clouded cane</td><td> a cane of polished wood with cloudlike +markings. In the <i>Tatler</i>, Mr. Bickerstaff sits in judgment on +canes, and takes away a cane, "curiously clouded, with a transparent +amber head, and a blue ribband to hang upon his wrist," from a young +gentleman as a piece of idle foppery. There are some amusing remarks on +the "conduct" of canes in the same essay.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>133</b></td><td></td><td> The baron's oath is a parody of the oath of Achilles +(<i>Iliad</i>, I, 234).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>142</b></td><td></td><td> The breaking of the bottle of sorrows, etc., is the cause of +Belinda's change of mood from wrath as in l. 93 to tears, 143-144.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>155</b></td><td>the gilt Chariot</td><td> the painted and gilded coach in which +ladies took the air in London.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>156</b></td><td>Bohea</td><td> tea, the name comes from a range of hills in China +where a certain kind of tea was grown.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>162</b></td><td>the patch-box</td><td> the box which held the little bits of black +sticking-plaster with which ladies used to adorn their faces. According +to Addison (<i>Spectator</i>, No. 81), ladies even went so far in this +fad as to patch on one side of the face or the other, according to their +politics. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Canto V</h4> +</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>5</b></td><td>the Trojan</td><td>Ĉneas, who left Carthage in spite of the wrath of +Dido and the entreaties of her sister Anna.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>7-36</b></td><td></td><td>Pope inserted these lines in a late revision in 1717, in +order, as he said, to open more clearly the moral of the poem. The +speech of Clarissa is a parody of a famous speech by Sarpedon in the +<i>Iliad</i>, XII, 310-328.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>14</b></td><td></td><td>At this time the gentlemen always sat in the side boxes of the +theater; the ladies in the front boxes.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>20</b></td><td></td><td> As vaccination had not yet been introduced, small-pox was at +this time a terribly dreaded scourge.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>23</b></td><td></td><td> In the <i>Spectator</i>, No. 23, there is inserted a mock +advertisement, professing to teach the whole art of ogling, the church +ogle, the playhouse ogle, a flying ogle fit for the ring, etc.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>24</b></td><td></td><td>Painting the face was a common practice of the belles of this +time. <i>The Spectator</i>, No. 41, contains a bitter attack on the +painted ladies whom it calls the "Picts."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>37</b></td><td>virago</td><td> a fierce, masculine woman, here used for Thalestris.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>45</b></td><td></td><td> In the <i>Iliad</i> (Bk. XX) the gods are represented as +taking sides for the Greeks and Trojans and fighting among themselves. +Pallas opposes Ares, or Mars; and Hermes, Latona.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>48</b></td><td>Olympus</td><td>the hill on whose summit the gods were supposed to +dwell, often used for heaven itself.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>50</b></td><td>Neptune</td><td> used here for the sea over which Neptune presided.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>53</b></td><td>a sconce's height</td><td> the top of an ornamental bracket for +holding candles.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>61</b></td><td></td><td>Explain the metaphor in this line.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>64</b></td><td></td><td> The quotation is from a song in an opera called +<i>Camilla</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>65</b></td><td></td><td>The Mĉander is a river in Asia Minor. Ovid (<i>Heroides</i>, +VII, 1-2) represents the swan as singing his death-song on its banks.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>68</b></td><td></td><td>Chloe: a fanciful name. No real person is meant.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>71</b></td><td></td><td>The figure of Jove weighing the issue of a battle in his +scales is found in the <i>Iliad</i>, VIII, 69-73. Milton imitated it in +<i>Paradise Lost</i>, IX, 996-1004. When the men's wits mounted it +showed that they were lighter, less important, than the lady's hair, and +so were destined to lose the battle.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>89-96</b></td><td></td><td> This pedigree of Belinda's bodkin is a parody of Homer's +account of Agamemnon's scepter (<i>Iliad</i>, II, 100-108).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>105-106</b></td><td></td><td> In Shakespeare's play Othello fiercely demands to see a +handkerchief which he has given his wife, and takes her inability to +show it to him as a proof of her infidelity.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>113</b></td><td></td><td> the lunar sphere: it was an old superstition that everything +lost on earth went to the moon. An Italian poet, Ariosto, uses this +notion in a poem with which Pope was familiar (<i>Orlando Furioso</i>, +Canto XXXIV), and from which he borrowed some of his ideas for the cave +of Spleen. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>122</b></td><td></td><td>Why does Pope include "tomes of casuistry" in this +collection?</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>125</b></td><td></td><td>There was a legend that Romulus never died, but had been +caught up to the skies in a storm. Proculus, a Roman senator, said that +Romulus had descended from heaven and spoken to him and then ascended +again (Livy, I, 16).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>129</b></td><td>Berenice's Locks</td><td> : Berenice was an Egyptian queen who +dedicated a lock of hair for her husband's safe return from war. It was +said afterward to have become a constellation, and a Greek poet wrote +some verses on the marvel.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>132</b></td><td></td><td>Why were the Sylphs pleased?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>133</b></td><td> the Mall</td><td>the upper side of St. James's park in London, a +favorite place at this time for promenades.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>136</b></td><td> Rosamonda's lake</td><td>a pond near one of the gates of St. James's +park, a favorite rendezvous for lovers.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>137</b></td><td>Partridge</td><td>an almanac maker of Pope's day who was given to +prophesying future events. Shortly before this poem was written Swift +had issued a mock almanac foretelling that Partridge would die on a +certain day. When that day came Swift got out a pamphlet giving a full +account of Partridge's death. In spite of the poor man's protests, Swift +and his friends kept on insisting that he was dead. He was still living, +however, when Pope wrote this poem. Why does Pope call him "th' +egregious wizard"?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>138</b></td><td>Galileo's eyes</td><td> the telescope, first used by the Italian +astronomer Galileo.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>140</b></td><td></td><td> Louis XIV of France, the great enemy of England at this time.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>Rome</td><td> here used to denote the Roman Catholic Church.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>143</b></td><td>the shining sphere</td><td>an allusion to the old notion that all +the stars were set in one sphere in the sky. Belinda's lost lock, now a +star, is said to add a new light to this sphere.</td> +</tr> + <tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>147</b></td><td></td><td>What are the "fair suns"?</td> +</tr> +</table> + <br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + + + +<h2><a name="section9">Notes on <i>An Essay on Criticism</i></a></h2><br> + +<h3>Introduction</h3> +<br> +The <i>Essay on Criticism</i> was the first really important work that +Pope gave to the world. He had been composing verses from early boyhood, +and had actually published a set of <i>Pastorals</i> which had attracted +some attention. He was already known to the literary set of London +coffeehouses as a young man of keen wit and high promise, but to the +reading public at large he was as yet an unknown quantity. With the +appearance of the <i>Essay</i>, Pope not only sprang at once into the +full light of publicity, but seized almost undisputed that position as +the first of living English poets which he was to retain unchallenged +till his death. Even after his death down to the Romantic revival, in +fact, Pope's supremacy was an article of critical faith, and this +supremacy was in no small measure founded upon the acknowledged merits +of the <i>Essay on Criticism.</i> Johnson, the last great representative +of Pope's own school of thought in matters literary, held that the poet +had never excelled this early work and gave it as his deliberate opinion +that if Pope had written nothing else, the <i>Essay</i> would have +placed him among the first poets and the first critics. The <i>Essay on +Criticism</i> is hardly an epoch-making poem, but it certainly "made" +Alexander Pope.<br> +<br> +The poem was published anonymously in the spring of 1711, when Pope was +twenty-three years old. There has been considerable dispute as to the +date of its composition; but the facts seem to be that it was begun in +1707 and finished in 1709 when Pope had it printed, not for publication, +but for purposes of further correction. As it stands, therefore, it +represents a work planned at the close of Pope's precocious youth, and +executed and polished in the first flush of his manhood. And it is quite +fair to say that considering the age of its author the <i>Essay on +Criticism</i> is one of the most remarkable works in English.<br> +<br> +Not that there is anything particularly original about the <i>Essay.</i> +On the contrary, it is one of the most conventional of all Pope's works. +It has nothing of the lively fancy of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>, +little or nothing of the personal note which stamps the later satires +and epistles as so peculiarly Pope's own. Apart from its brilliant +epigrammatic expression the <i>Essay on Criticism</i> might have been +written by almost any man of letters in Queen Anne's day who took the +trouble to think a little about the laws of literature, and who thought +about those laws strictly in accordance with the accepted conventions of +his time. Pope is not in the least to be blamed for this lack of +originality. Profound original criticism is perhaps the very last thing +to be expected of a brilliant boy, and Pope was little more when he +planned this work. But boy as he was, he had already accomplished an +immense amount of desultory reading, not only in literature proper, but +in literary criticism as well. He told Spence in later years that in his +youth he had gone through all the best critics, naming especially +Quintilian, Rapin, and Bossu. A mere cursory reading of the Essay shows +that he had also studied Horace, Vida, and Boileau. Before he began to +write he had, so he told Spence, "digested all the matter of the poem +into prose." In other words, then, the <i>Essay on Criticism</i> is at +once the result of Pope's early studies, the embodiment of the received +literary doctrines of his age, and, as a consecutive study of his poems +shows, the programme in accordance with which, making due allowance for +certain exceptions and inconsistencies, he evolved the main body of his +work.<br> +<br> +It would, however, be a mistake to treat, as did Pope's first editor, +the <i>Essay on Criticism</i> as a methodical, elaborate, and systematic +treatise. Pope, indeed, was flattered to have a scholar of such +recognized authority as Warburton to interpret his works, and permitted +him to print a commentary upon the <i>Essay</i>, which is quite as long +and infinitely duller than the original. But the true nature of the poem +is indicated by its title. It is not an <i>Art of Poetry</i> such as +Boileau composed, but an <i>Essay</i>. And by the word "essay," Pope +meant exactly what Bacon did, — a tentative sketch, a series of detached +thoughts upon a subject, not a complete study or a methodical treatise. +All that we know of Pope's method of study, habit of thought, and +practice of composition goes to support this opinion. He read widely but +desultorily; thought swiftly and brilliantly, but illogically and +inconsistently; and composed in minute sections, on the backs of letters +and scraps of waste paper, fragments which he afterward united, rather +than blended, to make a complete poem, a mosaic, rather than a picture.<br> +<br> +Yet the <i>Essay</i> is by no means the "collection of independent +maxims tied together by the printer, but having no natural order," which +De Quincey pronounced it to be. It falls naturally into three parts. The +first deals with the rules derived by classic critics from the practice +of great poets, and ever since of binding force both in the composition +and in the criticism of poetry. The second analyzes with admirable +sagacity the causes of faulty criticism as pride, imperfect learning, +prejudice, and so on. The third part discusses the qualities which a +true critic should possess, good taste, learning, modesty, frankness, +and tact, and concludes with a brief sketch of the history of criticism +from Aristotle to Walsh. This is the general outline of the poem, +sufficient, I think, to show that it is not a mere bundle of poetic +formulĉ. But within these broad limits the thought of the poem wanders +freely, and is quite rambling, inconsistent, and illogical enough to +show that Pope is not formulating an exact and definitely determined +system of thought.<br> +<br> +Such indeed was, I fancy, hardly his purpose. It was rather to give +clear, vivid, and convincing expression to certain ideas which were at +that time generally accepted as orthodox in the realm of literary +criticism. No better expression of these ideas can be found anywhere +than in the <i>Essay</i> itself, but a brief statement in simple prose +of some of the most important may serve as a guide to the young student +of the essay.<br> +<br> +In the first place, the ultimate source alike of poetry and criticism is +a certain intuitive faculty, common to all men, though more highly +developed in some than others, called Reason, or, sometimes, Good Sense. +The first rule for the budding poet or critic is "Follow Nature." This, +by the way, sounds rather modern, and might be accepted by any romantic +poet. But by "Nature" was meant not at all the natural impulses of the +individual, but those rules founded upon the natural and common reason +of mankind which the ancient critics had extracted and codified from the +practice of the ancient poets. Pope says explicitly "to follow nature is +to follow them;" and he praises Virgil for turning aside from his own +original conceptions to imitate Homer, for: + +<blockquote>Nature and Homer were, he found, the same.</blockquote> + +Certain exceptions to these rules were, indeed, allowable, — severer +critics than Pope, by the way, absolutely denied this, — but only to the +ancient poets. The moderns must not dare to make use of them, or at the +very best moderns must only venture upon such exceptions to the rules as +classic precedents would justify. Inasmuch as all these rules were +discovered and illustrated in ancient times, it followed logically that +the great breach with antiquity, which is called the Middle Ages, was a +period of hopeless and unredeemed barbarism, incapable of bringing forth +any good thing. The light of literature began to dawn again with the +revival of learning at the Renaissance, but the great poets of the +Renaissance, Spenser and Shakespeare, for example, were "irregular," +that is, they trusted too much to their individual powers and did not +accept with sufficient humility the orthodox rules of poetry. This +dogma, by the way, is hardly touched upon in the <i>Essay</i>, but is +elaborated with great emphasis in Pope's later utterance on the +principles of literature, the well-known <i>Epistle to Augustus</i>. +Finally with the establishment of the reign of Reason in France under +Louis XIV, and in England a little later, the full day had come, and +literary sins of omission and commission that might be winked at in such +an untutored genius as Shakespeare were now unpardonable. This last +dogma explains the fact that in the brief sketch of the history of +criticism which concludes the <i>Essay</i>, Pope does not condescend to +name an English poet or critic prior to the reign of Charles II.<br> +<br> +It would be beside the purpose to discuss these ideas to-day or to +attempt an elaborate refutation of their claims to acceptance. Time has +done its work upon them, and the literary creed of the wits of Queen +Anne's day is as antiquated as their periwigs and knee-breeches. Except +for purposes of historical investigation it is quite absurd to take the +<i>Essay on Criticism</i> seriously.<br> +<br> +And yet it has even for us of to-day a real value. Our age absolutely +lacks a standard of literary criticism; and of all standards the one +least likely to be accepted is that of Pope and his fellow-believers. +Individual taste reigns supreme in this democratic age, and one man's +judgment is as good as, perhaps a little better than, another's. But +even this democratic and individual age may profit by turning back for a +time to consider some of the general truths, as valid to-day as ever, to +which Pope gave such inimitable expression, or to study the outlines of +that noble picture of the true critic which St. Beuve declared every +professed critic should frame and hang up in his study. An age which +seems at times upon the point of throwing classical studies overboard as +useless lumber might do far worse than listen to the eloquent tribute +which the poet pays to the great writers of antiquity. And finally +nothing could be more salutary for an age in which literature itself has +caught something of the taint of the prevailing commercialism than to +bathe itself again in that spirit of sincere and disinterested love of +letters which breathes throughout the <i>Essay</i> and which, in spite +of all his errors, and jealousies, and petty vices, was the +master-passion of Alexander Pope.<br><br> +<br> + +<br> +<table summary="cribs2" width="100%" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><th>line</th><th>reference</th><th>meaning</th> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>6</b></td><td>censure</td><td>the word has here its original meaning of "judge," not its +modern "judge severely" or "blame."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>8</b></td><td></td><td>Because each foolish poem provokes a host of foolish commentators and +critics.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>15-16</b></td><td></td><td>This assertion that only a good writer can be a fair critic is not to be +accepted without reservation.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>17</b></td><td>wit</td><td>The word "wit" has a number of different meanings in this poem, and the +student should be careful to discriminate between them. It means +<ol type="1"> +<li>mind, intellect, l. 61; </li> +<li>learning, culture, l 727; </li> +<li>imagination, genius, l. 82; </li> +<li>the power to discover amusing analogies, or the apt expression of +such an analogy, ll. 449, 297; </li> +<li>a man possessed of wit in its various significations, l. 45; </li> +</ol> +this last form usually occurs in the plural, ll. 104, 539.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>26</b></td><td>the maze of schools</td><td>the labyrinth of conflicting systems of thought, especially of criticism.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>21</b></td><td>coxcombs ... fools</td><td>what is the difference in meaning between these +words in this passage?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>30-31</b></td><td></td><td>In this couplet Pope hits off the spiteful envy of conceited critics +toward successful writers. If the critic can write himself, he hates the +author as a rival; if he cannot, he entertains against him the deep +grudge an incapable man so often cherishes toward an effective worker.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>34</b></td><td>Mĉvius</td><td>a poetaster whose name has been handed down by Virgil and Horace. His +name, like that of his associate, Bavius, has become a by-word for a +wretched scribbler.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>Apollo</td><td>here thought of as the god of poetry. The true poet was inspired by +Apollo; but a poetaster like Mĉvius wrote without inspiration, as it +were, in spite of the god.</td> +</tr><tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>40-43</b></td><td></td><td>Pope here compares "half-learned" critics to the animals which old +writers reported were bred from the Nile mud. In <i>Antony and Cleopatra</i>, +for example, Lepidus says, "Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your +mud by the operation of your sun; so is your crocodile." Pope thinks of +these animals as in the unformed stage, part "kindled into life, part a +lump of mud." So these critics are unfinished things for which no proper +name can be found. "Equivocal generation" is the old term used to denote +spontaneous generation of this sort. Pope applies it here to critics +without proper training who spring spontaneously from the mire of +ignorance.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>44</b></td><td>tell</td><td>count</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>45</b></td><td></td><td>The idea is that a vain wit's tongue could out-talk a hundred ordinary +men's.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>53</b></td><td>pretending wit</td><td>presuming, or ambitious mind.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>56-58</b></td><td>memory ... understanding imagination</td><td>This is the old threefold division of the human mind. Pope means that +where one of these faculties is above the average in any individual, +another of them is sure to fall below. Is this always the case?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>63</b></td><td>peculiar arts</td><td>special branches of knowledge.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>73</b></td><td></td><td>In what sense can nature be called the source, the end, and the test of +art?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>76</b></td><td>th' informing soul</td><td>explanation</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>80-81</b></td><td></td><td>What two meanings are attached to "wit" in this couplet?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>84</b></td><td>'Tis more</td><td>it is more important.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>the Muse's steed</td><td>Pegasus, the winged horse of Greek mythology, was supposed to be the +horse of the Muses and came to be considered a symbol of poetic genius.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>86</b></td><td>gen'rous</td><td>high-bred.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>88</b></td><td></td><td>What is the difference between "discovered" and "devised"?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>94</b></td><td>Parnassus' top</td><td>the Muses were supposed to dwell on the top of Parnassus, a mountain in +Greece. Great poets are here thought of as having climbed the mountain +to dwell with the Muses.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>96</b></td><td></td><td>What is (cf. text) "the immortal prize"?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>99</b></td><td>She</td><td>i. e. learned Greece, especially Greek criticism, which obtained the +rules of poetry from the practice of great poets, and, as it were, +systematized their inspiration.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>104</b></td><td>following wits</td><td>later scholars.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>105</b></td><td></td><td>What is meant by "the mistress" and "the maid" in this line?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>109</b></td><td>Doctor's bills</td><td>prescriptions.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>112</b></td><td></td><td>These are the prosy commentators on great poets, whose dreary notes +often disgust readers with the original.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>120</b></td><td>fable</td><td>a plot.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>123</b></td><td></td><td>What is the difference between "cavil" and "criticise"?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>129</b></td><td>the Mantuan Muse</td><td>the poetry of Virgil, which Pope thinks the best commentary on Homer. In +what sense is this to be understood?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>130</b></td><td>Maro</td><td>Virgil, whose full name was Publius Vergilius Maro, Pope here praises +Virgil's well-known imitation of Homer. Since "nature and Homer were the +same," a young poet like Virgil could do nothing better than copy Homer.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>138</b></td><td>the Stagirite</td><td>Aristotle, a native of Stagyra, was the first and one of the greatest of +literary critics. His "rules" were drawn from the practice of great +poets, and so, according to Pope, to imitate Homer was to obey the +"ancient rules."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>141</b></td><td></td><td>There are some beauties in poetry which cannot be explained by criticism.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>142</b></td><td>happiness</td><td>used here to express the peculiar charm of spontaneous poetic expression +as contrasted with "care," 'i.e.' the art of revising and improving, +which can be taught.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>152</b></td><td>vulgar bounds</td><td>the limitations imposed upon ordinary writers.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>157</b></td><td>out of ... rise</td><td>surpass the ordinary scenes of nature.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>159</b></td><td>Great wits</td><td>poets of real genius.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>160</b></td><td>faults</td><td>here used in the sense of irregularities, exceptions to the rules of +poetry. When these are justified by the poet's genius, true critics do +not presume to correct them. In many editions this couplet comes after +l. 151. This was Pope's first arrangement, but he later shifted it to +its present position.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>162</b></td><td>As Kings</td><td>the Stuart kings claimed the right to "dispense with laws," that is, to +set them aside in special instances. In 1686 eleven out of twelve +English judges decided in a test case that "it is a privilege +inseparably connected with the sovereignty of the king to dispense with +penal laws, and that according to his own judgment." The English people +very naturally felt that such a privilege opened the door to absolute +monarchy, and after the fall of James II, Parliament declared in 1689 +that "the pretended power of suspending of laws ... without the consent +of Parliament, is illegal."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>164</b></td><td>its End</td><td>the purpose of every law of poetry, namely, to please the reader. This +purpose must not be "transgressed," 'i.e.' forgotten by those who wish +to make exceptions to these laws.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>166</b></td><td>their precedent</td><td>the example of classic poets.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>179</b></td><td>stratagems ... error</td><td>things in the classic poets which to carping critics seem faults are +often clever devices to make a deeper impression on the reader.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>180</b></td><td>Homer nods</td><td>Horace in his <i>Art of Poetry</i> used this figure to imply that even the +greatest poet sometimes made mistakes. Pope very neatly suggests that it +may be the critic rather than the poet who is asleep.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>181</b></td><td>each ancient Altar</td><td>used here to denote the works of the great classic writers. The whole +passage down to l. 200 is a noble outburst of enthusiasm for the poets +whom Pope had read so eagerly in early youth.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>186</b></td><td>consenting Pĉans</td><td>unanimous hymns of praise.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>194</b></td><td>must ... found</td><td>are not destined to be discovered till some future time.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>196</b></td><td></td><td>Who is "the last, the meanest of your sons"?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>203</b></td><td>bias</td><td>mental bent, or inclination.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>208</b></td><td></td><td>This line is based upon physiological theories which are now obsolete. +According to these wind or air supplied the lack of blood or of animal +spirits in imperfectly constituted bodies. To such bodies Pope compares +those ill-regulated minds where a deficiency of learning and natural +ability is supplied by self-conceit.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>216</b></td><td>The Pierian spring</td><td>the spring of the Muses, who were called Pierides in +Greek mythology. It is used here as a symbol for learning, particularly +for the study of literature.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>222</b></td><td>the lengths behind</td><td>the great spaces of learning that lie behind the first objects of our +study.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>225-232</b></td><td></td><td>This fine simile is one of the best expressions in English verse of the +modesty of the true scholar, due to his realization of the boundless +extent of knowledge. It was such a feeling that led Sir Isaac Newton to +say after all his wonderful discoveries, + + <blockquote> "I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to + have been only like a boy playing on the seashore and diverting myself + in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than + ordinary whilst the great ocean of truth lay all the time undiscovered + before me."</blockquote></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>224</b></td><td>peculiar parts</td><td>individual parts.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>248</b></td><td>ev'n thine, O Rome</td><td>there are so many splendid churches in Rome that an inhabitant of this +city would be less inclined than a stranger to wonder at the perfect +proportions of any of them. But there are two, at least, the Pantheon +and St. Peter's, which might justly evoke the admiration even of a +Roman. It was probably of one of these that Pope was thinking.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>265</b></td><td></td><td>What is the difference between "principles" and "notions" in this line?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>265</b></td><td>La Mancha's Knight</td><td>Don Quixote. The anecdote that follows is not taken from Cervantes' +novel, but from a continuation of it by an author calling himself +Avellanada. The story is that Don Quixote once fell in with a scholar +who had written a play about a persecuted queen of Bohemia. Her +innocence in the original story was established by a combat in the +lists, but this the poet proposed to omit as contrary to the rules of +Aristotle. The Don, although professing great respect for Aristotle, +insisted that the combat was the best part of the story and must be +acted, even if a special theater had to be built for the purpose, or the +play given in the open fields. Pope quotes this anecdote to show how +some critics in spite of their professed acceptance of general rules are +so prejudiced in favor of a minor point as to judge a whole work of art +from one standpoint only.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>270</b></td><td>Dennis</td><td>John Dennis, a playwright and critic of Pope's time. Pope and he were +engaged in frequent quarrels, but this first reference to him in Pope's +works is distinctly complimentary. The line probably refers to some +remarks by Dennis on the Grecian stage in his <i>Impartial Critic</i>, a +pamphlet published in 1693.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>273</b></td><td>nice</td><td>discriminating; in l. 286 the meaning is "over-scrupulous, finicky."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>276</b></td><td>unities</td><td>according to the laws of dramatic composition generally accepted in +Pope's day, a play must observe the unities of subject, place, and time. +That is, it must have one main theme, not a number of diverse stories, +for its plot; all the scenes must be laid in one place, or as nearly so +as possible; and the action must be begun and finished within the space +of twenty-four hours. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>286</b></td><td>curious</td><td>fastidious, over-particular.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>288</b></td><td>by a love to parts</td><td>by too diligent attention to particular parts of a work of art, which +hinders them from forming a true judgment of the work as a whole.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>289</b></td><td>conceit</td><td>an uncommon or fantastic expression of thought. "Conceits" had been much +sought after by the poets who wrote in the first half of the seventeenth +century.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>297</b></td><td>True Wit</td><td>here opposed to the "conceit" of which Pope has been speaking. It is +defined as a natural idea expressed in fit words.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>299</b></td><td>whose truth ... find</td><td>of whose truth we find ourselves at once convinced.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>308</b></td><td>take upon content</td><td>take for granted.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>311-317</b></td><td></td><td>Show how Pope uses the simile of the "prismatic glass" to distinguish +between "false eloquence" and "true expression."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>319</b></td><td>decent</td><td>becoming</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>328</b></td><td>Fungoso</td><td>a character in Ben Jonson's <i>Every Man out of his Humour</i>. He is the son +of a miserly farmer, and tries hard, though all in vain, to imitate the +dress and manners of a fine gentleman.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>329</b></td><td>These sparks</td><td>these would-be dandies.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>337</b></td><td>Numbers</td><td>rhythm, meter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>341</b></td><td>haunt Parnassus</td><td>read poetry. — ear:' note that in Pope's day this word rhymed with +"repair" and "there."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>344</b></td><td>these</td><td>critics who care for the meter only in poetry insist on the proper +number of syllables in a line, no matter what sort of sound or sense +results. For instance, they do not object to a series of "open vowels," +<i>i. e.</i> hiatuses caused by the juxtaposition of such words as "tho" and +"oft," "the" and "ear." Line 345 is composed especially to show how +feeble a rhythm results from such a succession of "open vowels." They do +not object to bolstering up a line with "expletives," such as "do" in l. +346, nor to using ten "low words," <i>i.e.</i> short, monosyllabic words to +make up a line.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>347</b></td><td></td><td>With this line Pope passes unconsciously from speaking of bad critics to +denouncing some of the errors of bad poets, who keep on using hackneyed +phrases and worn-out metrical devices.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>356</b></td><td>Alexandrine</td><td>a line of six iambic feet, such as l. 357, written especially to +illustrate this form. Why does Pope use the adjective "needless" here?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>361</b></td><td>Denham's strength ... Waller's sweetness</td><td>Waller and Denham were poets of the century before Pope; they are almost +forgotten to-day, but were extravagantly admired in his time. Waller +began and Denham continued the fashion of writing in "closed" heroic +couplets, <i>i.e.</i> in verses where the sense is for the most part +contained within one couplet and does not run over into the next as had +been the fashion in earlier verse. Dryden said that "the excellence and +dignity of rhyme were never fully known till Mr. Waller taught it," and +the same critic spoke of Denham's poetry as "majestic and correct."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>370</b></td><td>Ajax</td><td>one of the heroes of the <i>Iliad</i>. He is represented more than once as +hurling huge stones at his enemies. Note that Pope has endeavored in +this and the following line to convey the sense of effort and struggle. +What means does he employ? Do you think he succeeds?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>372</b></td><td>Camilla</td><td>a heroine who appears in the latter part of the <i>Ĉneid</i> fighting against +the Trojan invaders of Italy. Virgil says that she was so swift of foot +that she might have run over a field of wheat without breaking the +stalks, or across the sea without wetting her feet. Pope attempts in l. +373 to reproduce in the sound and movement of his verse the sense of +swift flight.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>374</b></td><td>Timotheus</td><td>a Greek poet and singer who was said to have played and sung before +Alexander the Great. The reference in this passage is to Dryden's famous +poem, <i>Alexander's Feast</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>376</b></td><td>the son of Libyan Jove</td><td>Alexander the Great, who boasted that he was the son of Jupiter. The +famous oracle of Jupiter Ammon situated in the Libyan desert was visited +by Alexander, who was said to have learned there the secret of his +parentage.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>383</b></td><td>Dryden</td><td>this fine compliment is paid to a poet whom Pope was proud to +acknowledge as his master. "I learned versification wholly from Dryden's +works," he once said. Pope's admiration for Dryden dated from early +youth, and while still a boy he induced a friend to take him to see the +old poet in his favorite coffee-house.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>391</b></td><td>admire</td><td>not used in our modern sense, but in its original meaning, "to wonder +at." According to Pope, it is only fools who are lost in wonder at the +beauties of a poem; wise men "approve,"<i> i.e.</i> test and pronounce them +good.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>396-7</b></td><td></td><td>Pope acknowledged that in these lines he was alluding to the +uncharitable belief of his fellow-Catholics that all outside the fold of +the Catholic church were sure to be damned.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>400</b></td><td>sublimes</td><td>purifies</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>404</b></td><td>each</td><td>each age.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>415</b></td><td>joins with Quality</td><td>takes sides with "the quality,"<i> i.e.</i> people of rank.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>429</b></td><td></td><td>Are so clever that they refuse to accept the common and true belief, and +so forfeit their salvation.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>441</b></td><td>sentences</td><td>the reference is to a mediaeval treatise on Theology, by Peter Lombard, +called the <i>Book of Sentences</i>. It was long used as a university +text-book.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>444</b></td><td>Scotists and Thomists</td><td>mediĉval scholars, followers respectively of Duns Scotus and Thomas +Aquinas. A long dispute raged between their disciples. In this couplet +Pope points out that the dispute is now forgotten, and the books of the +old disputants lie covered with cobwebs in Duck-lane, a street in London +where second-hand books were sold in Pope's day. He calls the cobwebs +"kindred," because the arguments of Thomists and Scotists were as fine +spun as a spider's web.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>449</b></td><td></td><td>"The latest fashionable folly is the test, or the proof, of a quick, +up-to-date wit." In other words, to be generally accepted an author must +accept the current fashion, foolish though it may be.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>457</b></td><td></td><td>This was especially true in Pope's day when literature was so closely +connected with politics that an author's work was praised or blamed not +upon its merits, but according to his, and the critic's, politics.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>459</b></td><td>Parsons, Critics, Beaus</td><td>Dryden, the head of English letters in the generation before Pope, had +been bitterly assailed on various charges by parsons, like Jeremy +Collier, critics like Milbourn, and fine gentlemen like the Duke of +Buckingham. But his works remained when the jests that were made against +them were forgotten.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>463</b></td><td></td><td>Sir Richard Blackmore, a famous doctor in Dryden's day, was also a very +dull and voluminous writer. He attacked Dryden in a poem called <i>A +Satire against Wit</i>. Luke Milbourn was a clergyman of the same period, +who abused Dryden's translation of Virgil.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>465</b></td><td>Zoilus</td><td>a Greek critic who attacked Homer.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>481</b></td><td></td><td>The English language and the public taste had changed very rapidly +during the century preceding Pope. He imagined that these changes would +continue so that no poet's reputation would last longer than a man's +life, "bare threescore," and Dryden's poetry would come to be as hard to +understand and as little read as Chaucer's at that time. It is worth +noting that both Dryden and Pope rewrote parts of Chaucer in modern +English.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>506-7</b></td><td></td><td>Explain why "wit" is feared by wicked men and shunned by the virtuous, +hated by fools, and "undone" or ruined by knaves.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>521</b></td><td>sacred</td><td>accursed, like the Latin <i>sacer</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>527</b></td><td>spleen</td><td>bad temper.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>534</b></td><td>the fat age</td><td>the reign of Charles II, as ll. 536-537 show, when literature became +notoriously licentious.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>538</b></td><td>Jilts ... statesmen</td><td>loose women like Lady Castlemaine and the Duchess of Portsmouth had +great influence on the politics of Charles II's time, and statesmen of +that day like Buckingham and Etheredge wrote comedies.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>541</b></td><td>mask</td><td>it was not uncommon in Restoration times for ladies to wear a mask in +public, especially at the theater. Here the word is used to denote the +woman who wore a mask.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>544</b></td><td>a Foreign reign</td><td>the reign of William III, a Dutchman. Pope, as a Tory and a Catholic, +hated the memory of William, and here asserts, rather unfairly, that his +age was marked by an increase of heresy and infidelity.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>545</b></td><td>Socinus</td><td>the name of two famous heretics, uncle and nephew, of the sixteenth +century, who denied the divinity of Christ.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>549</b></td><td></td><td>Pope insinuates here that the clergy under William III hated an absolute +monarch so much that they even encouraged their hearers to question the +absolute power of God.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>551</b></td><td>admir'd</td><td>see note to l. 391.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>552</b></td><td>Wit's Titans</td><td>wits who defied heaven as the old Titans did the gods. The reference is +to a group of freethinkers who came into prominence in King William's +reign.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>556</b></td><td>scandalously nice</td><td>so over-particular as to find cause for scandal where none exists.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>557</b></td><td>mistake an author into vice</td><td>mistakenly read into an author vicious ideas which are not really to be +found in his work.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>575</b></td><td></td><td>Things that men really do not know must be brought forward modestly as +if they had only been forgotten for a time.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>577</b></td><td>that only</td><td>good-breeding alone</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>585</b></td><td>Appius</td><td>a nickname for John Dennis, taken from his tragedy, <i>Appius and +Virginia</i>, which appeared two years before the <i>Essay on Criticism</i>. +Lines 585-587 hit off some of the personal characteristics of this +hot-tempered critic. "Tremendous" was a favorite word with Dennis.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>588</b></td><td>tax</td><td>blame, find fault with.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>591</b></td><td></td><td>In Pope's time noblemen could take degrees at the English universities +without passing the regular examinations.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>617</b></td><td></td><td>Dryden's <i>Fables</i> published in 1700 represented the very best narrative +poetry of the greatest poet of his day. D'Urfey's <i>Tales</i>, on the other +hand, published in 1704 and 1706, were collections of dull and obscene +doggerel by a wretched poet.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>618</b></td><td>with him</td><td>according to "the bookful blockhead."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>619</b></td><td>Garth</td><td>a well-known doctor of the day, who wrote a much admired mock-heroic +poem called <i>The Dispensary</i>. His enemies asserted that he was not +really the author of the poem.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>623</b></td><td></td><td>Such foolish critics are just as ready to pour out their opinions on a +man in St. Paul's cathedral as in the bookseller's shops in the square +around the church, which is called St. Paul's churchyard. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>632</b></td><td>proud to know</td><td>proud of his knowledge.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>636</b></td><td>humanly</td><td>an old form for "humanely."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>642</b></td><td>love to praise</td><td>a love of praising men.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>648</b></td><td>Mĉonian Star</td><td>Homer. Mĉonia, or Lydia, was a district in Asia which was said to have +been the birthplace of Homer.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>652</b></td><td>conquered Nature</td><td>Aristotle was a master of all the knowledge of nature extant in his day.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>653</b></td><td>Horace</td><td>the famous Latin poet whose <i>Ars Poetica</i> was one of Pope's models for +the <i>Essay on Criticism</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>662</b></td><td>fle'me</td><td>phlegm, according to old ideas of physiology, one of the four "humours" +or fluids which composed the body. Where it abounded it made men dull +and heavy, or as we still say "phlegmatic."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>663-4</b></td><td></td><td>A rather confused couplet. It means, "Horace suffers as much by the +misquotations critics make from his work as by the bad translations that +wits make of them."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>665</b></td><td>Dionysius</td><td>Dionysius of Halicarnassus, a famous Greek critic. Pope's manner of +reference to him seems to show that he had never read his works.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>667</b></td><td>Petronius</td><td>a courtier and man of letters of the time of Nero. Only a few lines of +his remaining work contain any criticism.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>669</b></td><td>Quintilian's work</td><td>the <i>Institutiones Oratoriĉ</i> of Quintilianus, a famous Latin critic of +the first century A.D.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>675</b></td><td>Longinus</td><td>a Greek critic of the third century A.D., who composed a famous work +called <i>A Treatise on the Sublime</i>. It is a work showing high +imagination as well as careful reasoning, and hence Pope speaks of the +author as inspired by the Nine, <i>i. e.</i> the Muses.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>692</b></td><td></td><td>The willful hatred of the monks for the works of classical antiquity +tended to complete that destruction of old books which the Goths began +when they sacked the Roman cities. Many ancient writings were erased, +for example, in order to get parchment for monkish chronicles and +commentaries.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>693</b></td><td>Erasmus</td><td>perhaps the greatest scholar of the Renaissance. Pope calls him the +"glory of the priesthood" on account of his being a monk of such +extraordinary learning, and "the shame" of his order, because he was so +abused by monks in his lifetime. Is this a good antithesis?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>697</b></td><td>Leo's golden days</td><td>the pontificate of Leo X (1513-1521). Leo himself was a generous patron +of art and learning. He paid particular attention to sacred music (l. +703), and engaged Raphael to decorate the Vatican with frescoes. Vida +(l. 704) was an Italian poet of his time, who became famous by the +excellence of his Latin verse. One of his poems was on the art of +poetry, and it is to this that Pope refers in l. 706.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>707-8</b></td><td></td><td>Cremona was the birthplace of Vida; Mantua, of Virgil.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>709</b></td><td></td><td>The allusion is to the sack of Rome by the Constable Bourbon's army in +1527. This marked the end of the golden age of arts in Italy.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>714</b></td><td>Boileau</td><td>a French poet and critic (1636-1711). His <i>L'Art Poetique</i> is founded on +Horace's <i>Ars Poetica</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>723</b></td><td>the Muse</td><td><i>i. e.</i> the genius, of John Sheffield (1649-1720), Duke of Buckingham +(not to be confounded with Dryden's enemy). Line 724 is quoted from his +<i>Essay on Poetry</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>725</b></td><td>Roscommon</td><td>Wentworth Dillon (1633-1684), Earl of Roscommon, author of a translation +of the <i>Ars Poetica</i> and of <i>An Essay on Translated Verse</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>729</b></td><td>Walsh</td><td>a commonplace poet (1663-1708), but apparently a good critic. Dryden, in +fact, called him the best critic in the nation. He was an early friend +and judicious adviser of Pope himself, who showed him much of his early +work, including the first draft of this very poem. Pope was sincerely +attached to him, and this tribute to his dead friend is marked by deep +and genuine feeling.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>738</b></td><td>short excursions</td><td>such as this <i>Essay on Criticism</i> instead of longer and more ambitious +poems which Pope planned and in part executed in his boyhood. There is +no reason to believe with Mr. Elwin that this passage proves that Pope +formed the design of the poem after the death of Walsh.</td> +</tr> +</table><br> + +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section10">Notes on <i>An Essay on Man, Epistle I</i></a></h2><br> + +<h3>Introduction</h3> +<br> +The <i>Essay on Man</i> is the longest and in some ways the most +important work of the third period of Pope's career. It corresponds +closely to his early work, the <i>Essay on Criticism</i>. Like the +earlier work, the <i>Essay on Man</i> is a didactic poem, written +primarily to diffuse and popularize certain ideas of the poet. As in the +earlier work these ideas are by no means original with Pope, but were +the common property of a school of thinkers in his day. As in the +<i>Essay on Criticism</i>, Pope here attempts to show that these ideas +have their origin in nature and are consistent with the common sense of +man. And finally the merit of the later work, even more than of the +earlier, is due to the force and brilliancy of detached passages rather +than to any coherent, consistent, and well-balanced system which it +presents.<br> +<br> +The close of the seventeenth century and beginning of the eighteenth was +marked by a change of ground in the sphere of religious controversy. The +old debates between the Catholic and Protestant churches gradually died +out as these two branches of Western Christianity settled down in quiet +possession of the territory they still occupy. In their place arose a +vigorous controversy on the first principles of religion in general, on +the nature of God, the origin of evil, the place of man in the universe, +and the respective merits of optimism and pessimism as philosophic +theories. The controversialists as a rule either rejected or neglected +the dogmas of revealed religion and based their arguments upon real or +supposed facts of history, physical nature, and the mental processes and +moral characteristics of man. In this controversy the two parties at +times were curiously mingled. Orthodox clergymen used arguments which +justified a strong suspicion of their orthodoxy; and avowed freethinkers +bitterly disclaimed the imputation of atheism and wrote in terms that +might be easily adopted by a devout believer.<br> +<br> +Into this controversy Pope was led by his deepening intimacy with +Bolingbroke, who had returned from France in 1725 and settled at his +country place within a few miles of Twickenham. During his long exile +Bolingbroke had amused himself with the study of moral philosophy and +natural religion, and in his frequent intercourse with Pope he poured +out his new-found opinions with all the fluency, vigor, and polish which +made him so famous among the orators and talkers of the day. +Bolingbroke's views were for that time distinctly heterodox, and, if +logically developed, led to complete agnosticism. But he seems to have +avoided a complete statement of his ideas to Pope, possibly for fear of +shocking or frightening the sensitive little poet who still remained a +professed Catholic. Pope, however, was very far from being a strict +Catholic, and indeed prided himself on the breadth and liberality of his +opinions. He was, therefore, at once fascinated and stimulated by the +eloquent conversation of Bolingbroke, and resolved to write a +philosophical poem in which to embody the ideas they held in common. +Bolingbroke approved of the idea, and went so far as to furnish the poet +with seven or eight sheets of notes "to direct the plan in general and +to supply matter for particular epistles." Lord Bathurst, who knew both +Pope and Bolingbroke, went so far as to say in later years that the +<i>Essay</i> was originally composed by Bolingbroke in prose and that +Pope only put it into verse. But this is undoubtedly an exaggeration of +what Pope himself frankly acknowledged, that the poem was composed under +the influence of Bolingbroke, that in the main it reflected his +opinions, and that Bolingbroke had assisted him in the general plan and +in numerous details. Very properly, therefore, the poem is addressed to +Bolingbroke and begins and closes with a direct address to the poet's +"guide, philosopher, and friend."<br> +<br> +In substance the <i>Essay on Man</i> is a discussion of the moral order +of the world. Its purpose is "to vindicate the ways of God to man," and +it may therefore be regarded as an attempt to confute the skeptics who +argued from the existence of evil in the world and the wretchedness of +man's existence to the impossibility of belief in an all-good and +all-wise God. It attempts to do this, not by an appeal to revelation or +the doctrines of Christianity, but simply on the basis of a common-sense +interpretation of the facts of existence.<br> +<br> +A brief outline of the poem will show the general tenor of Pope's +argument.<br> +<br> +The first epistle deals with the nature and state of man with respect to +the universe. It insists on the limitations of man's knowledge, and the +consequent absurdity of his presuming to murmur against God. It teaches +that the universe was not made for man, but that man with all his +apparent imperfections is exactly fitted to the place which he occupies +in the universe. In the physical universe all things work together for +good, although certain aspects of nature seem evil to man, and likewise +in the moral universe all things, even man's passions and crimes conduce +to the general good of the whole. Finally it urges calm submission and +acquiescence in what is hard to understand, since "one truth is +clear, — whatever is, is right."<br> +<br> +The second epistle deals with the nature of man as an individual. It +begins by urging men to abandon vain questionings of God's providence +and to take up the consideration of their own natures, for "the proper +study of mankind is man." Pope points out that the two cardinal +principles of man's nature are self-love and reason, the first an +impelling, the second a regulating power. The aim of both these +principles is pleasure, by which Pope means happiness, which he takes +for the highest good. Each man is dominated by a master passion, and it +is the proper function of reason to control this passion for good and to +make it bear fruit in virtue. No man is wholly virtuous or vicious, and +Heaven uses the mingled qualities of men to bind them together in mutual +interdependence, and makes the various passions and imperfections of +mankind serve the general good. And the final conclusion is that "though +man's a fool, yet God is wise."<br> +<br> +The third epistle treats of the nature of man with respect to society. +All creatures, Pope asserts, are bound together and live not for +themselves alone, but man is preeminently a social being. The first +state of man was the state of nature when he lived in innocent ignorance +with his fellow-creatures. Obeying the voice of nature, man learned to +copy and improve upon the instincts of the animals, to build, to plow, +to spin, to unite in societies like those of ants and bees. The first +form of government was patriarchal; then monarchies arose in which +virtue, "in arms or arts," made one man ruler over many. In either case +the origin of true government as of true religion was love. Gradually +force crept in and uniting with superstition gave rise to tyranny and +false religions. Poets and patriots, however, restored the ancient faith +and taught power's due use by showing the necessity of harmony in the +state. Pope concludes by asserting the folly of contention for forms of +government or modes of faith. The common end of government as of +religion is the general good. It may be noticed in passing that Pope's +account of the evolution of society bears even less relation to +historical facts than does his account of the development of literature +in the <i>Essay on Criticism.</i><br> +<br> +The last epistle discusses the nature of happiness, "our being's end and +aim." Happiness is attainable by all men who think right and mean well. +It consists not in individual, but in mutual pleasure. It does not +consist in external things, mere gifts of fortune, but in health, peace, +and competence. Virtuous men are, indeed, subject to calamities of +nature; but God cannot be expected to suspend the operation of general +laws to spare the virtuous. Objectors who would construct a system in +which all virtuous men are blest, are challenged to define the virtuous +and to specify what is meant by blessings. Honors, nobility, fame, +superior talents, often merely serve to make their possessors unhappy. +Virtue alone is happiness, and virtue consists in a recognition of the +laws of Providence, and in love for one's fellow-man.<br> +<br> +Even this brief outline will show, I think, some of the inconsistencies +and omissions of Pope's train of thought. A careful examination of his +arguments in detail would be wholly out of place here. The reader who +wishes to pursue the subject further may consult Warburton's elaborate +vindication of Pope's argument, and Elwin's equally prosy refutation, or +better still the admirable summary by Leslie Stephen in the chapter on +this poem in his life of Pope (<i>English Men of Letters</i>). No one is +now likely to turn to the writer of the early eighteenth century for a +system of the universe, least of all to a writer so incapable of exact +or systematic thinking as Alexander Pope. If the <i>Essay on Man</i> has +any claim to be read to-day, it must be as a piece of literature pure +and simple. For philosophy and poetry combined, Browning and Tennyson +lie nearer to our age and mode of thought than Pope.<br> +<br> +Even regarded as a piece of literature the <i>Essay on Man</i> cannot, I +think, claim the highest place among Pope's works. It obtained, indeed, +a success at home and abroad such as was achieved by no other English +poem until the appearance of <i>Childe Harold</i>. It was translated +into French, German, Italian, Portuguese, Polish, and Latin. It was +imitated by Wieland, praised by Voltaire, and quoted by Kant. But this +success was due in part to the accuracy with which it reflected ideas +which were the common property of its age, in part to the extraordinary +vigor and finish of its epigrams, which made it one of the most quotable +of English poems. But as a whole the Essay is not a great poem. The poet +is evidently struggling with a subject that is too weighty for him, and +at times he staggers and sinks beneath his burden. The second and third +books in particular are, it must be confessed, with the exception of one +or two fine outbursts, little better than dull, and dullness is not a +quality one is accustomed to associate with Pope. The <i>Essay on +Man</i> lacks the bright humor and imaginative artistry of <i>The Rape +of the Lock,</i> and the lively portraiture, vigorous satire, and strong +personal note of the <i>Moral Epistles</i> and <i>Imitations of +Horace</i>. Pope is at his best when he is dealing with a concrete world +of men and women as they lived and moved in the London of his day; he is +at his worst when he is attempting to seize and render abstract ideas.<br> +<br> +Yet the <i>Essay on Man</i> is a very remarkable work. In the first +place, it shows Pope's wonderful power of expression. No one can read +the poem for the first time without meeting on page after page phrases +and epigrams which have become part of the common currency of our +language. Pope's "precision and firmness of touch," to quote the apt +statement of Leslie Stephen, "enables him to get the greatest possible +meaning into a narrow compass. He uses only one epithet, but it is the +right one." Even when the thought is commonplace enough, the felicity of +the expression gives it a new and effective force. And there are whole +passages where Pope rises high above the mere coining of epigrams. As I +have tried to show in my notes he composed by separate paragraphs, and +when he chances upon a topic that appeals to his imagination or touches +his heart, we get an outburst of poetry that shines in splendid contrast +to the prosaic plainness of its surroundings. Such, for example, are the +noble verses that tell of the immanence of God in his creation at the +close of the first epistle, or the magnificent invective against tyranny +and superstition in the third (ll. 241-268).<br> +<br> +Finally the <i>Essay on Man</i> is of interest in what it tells us of +Pope himself. Mr. Elwin's idea that in the <i>Essay on Man</i> Pope, +"partly the dupe, partly the accomplice of Bolingbroke," was attempting +craftily to undermine the foundations of religion, is a notion curiously +compounded of critical blindness and theological rancor. In spite of all +its incoherencies and futilities the <i>Essay</i> is an honest attempt +to express Pope's opinions, borrowed in part, of course, from his +admired friend, but in part the current notions of his age, on some of +the greatest questions that have perplexed the mind of man. And Pope's +attitude toward the questions is that of the best minds of his day, at +once religious, independent, and sincere. He acknowledges the +omnipotence and benevolence of God, confesses the limitations and +imperfections of human knowledge, teaches humility in the presence of +unanswerable problems, urges submission to Divine Providence, extols +virtue as the true source of happiness, and love of man as an essential +of virtue. If we study the <i>Essay on Man</i> as the reasoned argument +of a philosopher, we shall turn from it with something like contempt; if +we read it as the expression of a poet's sentiments, we shall, I think, +leave it with an admiration warmer than before for a character that has +been so much abused and so little understood as that of Pope.<br> +<br><br> +<br> + +<table summary="cribs3" width="100%" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><th>line</th><th>reference</th><th>meaning</th> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>The Design</h4> +</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>2</b></td><td>Bacon's expression</td><td>in the dedication of his <i>Essays</i> (1625) to Buckingham, Bacon speaks of +them as the most popular of his writings, "for that, as it seems, they +come home to men's business and bosoms."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>11</b></td><td>anatomy</td><td>dissection</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Epistle I</h4> +</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>1</b></td><td>St. John</td><td>Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke, Pope's "guide, philosopher, and +friend," under whose influence the <i>Essay on Man</i> was composed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>5</b></td><td>expatiate</td><td>range, wander.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>6</b></td><td></td><td>Pope says that this line alludes to the subject of this first Epistle, +"the state of man here and hereafter, disposed by Providence, though to +him unknown." The next two lines allude to the main topics of the three +remaining epistles, "the constitution of the human mind ... the +temptations of misapplied self-love, and the wrong pursuits of power, +pleasure, and false happiness."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>9</b></td><td>beat ... field</td><td>the metaphor is drawn from hunting. Note how it is elaborated in the +following lines.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>12</b></td><td>blindly creep ... sightless soar</td><td>the first are the ignorant and indifferent; those who "sightless soar" +are the presumptuous who reason blindly about things too high for human +knowledge.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>15</b></td><td>candid</td><td>lenient, free from harsh judgments.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>16</b></td><td></td><td>An adaptation of a well-known line of Milton's <i>Paradise Lost</i>, l, 26.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>17-23</b></td><td></td><td>Pope lays down as the basis of his system that all argument about man or +God must be based upon what we know of man's present life, and of God's +workings in this world of ours.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>29</b></td><td>this frame</td><td>the universe. Compare <i>Hamlet</i>, II, ii, 310, "this goodly frame, the +earth."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>30</b></td><td>nice dependencies</td><td>subtle inter-relations.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>31</b></td><td>Gradations just</td><td>exact shades of difference.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>32</b></td><td>a part</td><td>the mind of man, which is but a part of the whole universe.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>33</b></td><td>the great chain</td><td>according to Homer, Jove, the supreme God, sustained the whole creation +by a golden chain. Milton also makes use of this idea of the visible +universe as linked to heaven in a golden chain, <i>Paradise Lost</i>, II, +1004-1006, and 1051-1052.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>41</b></td><td>yonder argent fields</td><td>the sky spangled with silvery stars. The phrase is borrowed from Milton, +<i>Paradise Lost</i>, III, 460.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>42</b></td><td>Jove</td><td>the planet Jupiter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>satellites</td><td>Pope preserves here the Latin +pronunciation, four syllables, with the accent on the antepenult.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>43-40</b></td><td></td><td>Pope here takes it for granted that our universe, inasmuch as it is the +work of God's infinite wisdom, must be the best system possible. If this +be granted, he says, it is plain that man must have a place somewhere in +this system, and the only question is whether "God has placed him wrong."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>45</b></td><td></td><td>Every grade in creation must be complete, so as to join with that which +is beneath and with that which is above it or there would be a lack of +coherency, a break, somewhere in the system.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>47</b></td><td>reas'ning life</td><td>conscious mental life.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>51-60</b></td><td></td><td>Pope argues here that since man is a part of the best possible system, +whatever seems wrong in him must be right when considered in relation to +the whole order of the universe. It is only our ignorance of this order +which keeps us from realizing this fact.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>55</b></td><td>one single</td><td>the word "movement" is understood after "single."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>61-8</b></td><td></td><td>Pope here illustrates his preceding argument by analogy. We can know no +more of God's purpose in the ordering of our lives than the animals can +know of our ordering of theirs.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>64</b></td><td>Ĉgypt's God</td><td>One of the gods of the Egyptians was the sacred bull, Apis.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>68</b></td><td>a deity</td><td>worshiped as a god, like the Egyptian kings and Roman emperors. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>69-76</b></td><td></td><td>Pope now goes on to argue that on the basis of what has been proved we +ought not to regard man as an imperfect being, but rather as one who is +perfectly adapted to his place in the universe. His knowledge, for +example, is measured by the brief time he has to live and the brief +space he can survey.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>69</b></td><td>fault</td><td>pronounced in Pope's day as rhyming with "ought."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>73-6</b></td><td></td><td>These lines are really out of place. They first appeared after l. 98; +then Pope struck them out altogether. Just before his death he put them +into their present place on the advice of Warburton, who probably +approved of them because of their reference to a future state of bliss. +It is plain that they interfere with the regular argument of the poem.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>79</b></td><td></td><td>This line is grammatically dependent upon "hides," l. 77.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>81</b></td><td>riot</td><td>used here in the sense of "luxurious life." The lamb is slain to provide +for some feast.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>86</b></td><td>Heav'n</td><td><i>i. e.</i> God. Hence the relative "who" in the next line.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>92-8</b></td><td></td><td>Pope urges man to comfort himself with hope, seeing that he cannot know +the future.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>93</b></td><td>What future bliss</td><td>the words "shall be" are to be understood after this phrase. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>96</b></td><td></td><td>Point out the exact meaning of this familiar line.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>97</b></td><td>from home</td><td>away from its true home, the life to come. This line represents one of +the alterations which Warburton induced Pope to make. The poet first +wrote "confined at home," thus representing this life as the home of the +soul. His friend led him to make the change in order to express more +clearly his belief in the soul's immortality.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>89</b></td><td></td><td>Show how "rests" and "expatiates" in this line contrast with "uneasy" +and "confined" in l. 97.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>99-112</b></td><td></td><td>In this famous passage Pope shows how the belief in immortality is found +even among the most ignorant tribes. This is to Pope an argument that +the soul must be immortal, since only Nature, or God working through +Nature, could have implanted this conception in the Indian's mind.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>102</b></td><td>the solar walk</td><td>the sun's path in the heavens.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>the milky way</td><td>some old philosophers held that the souls of good men went thither after +death.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>...</b></td><td></td><td>Pope means that the ignorant Indian had no conception of a heaven +reserved for the just such as Greek sages and Christian believers have. +All he believes in is "an humbler heaven," where he shall be free from +the evils of this life. Line 108 has special reference to the tortures +inflicted upon the natives of Mexico and Peru by the avaricious Spanish +conquerors.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>109-10</b></td><td></td><td>He is contented with a future existence, without asking for the glories +of the Christian's heaven.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>111</b></td><td>equal sky</td><td>impartial heaven, for the heaven of the Indians was open to all men, +good or bad.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>113-30</b></td><td></td><td>In this passage Pope blames those civilized men who, though they should +be wiser than the Indian, murmur against the decrees of God. The +imperative verbs "weigh," "call," "say," etc., are used satirically.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>113</b></td><td>scale of sense</td><td>the scale, or means of judgment, which our senses give us.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>117</b></td><td>gust</td><td>the pleasure of taste.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>120</b></td><td></td><td>The murmurers are dissatisfied that man is not at once perfect in his +present state and destined to immortality, although such gifts have been +given to no other creature.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>123</b></td><td>reas'ning pride</td><td>the pride of the intellect which assumes to condemn God's providence.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>131-172</b></td><td></td><td>In this passage Pope imagines a dialogue between one of the proud +murmurers he has described and himself. His opponent insists that the +world was made primarily for man's enjoyment (ll. 132-140). Pope asks +whether nature does not seem to swerve from this end of promoting human +happiness in times of pestilence, earthquake, and tempest (ll. 141-144). +The other answers that these are only rare exceptions to the general +laws, due perhaps to some change in nature since the world began (ll. +145-148). Pope replies by asking why there should not be exceptions in +the moral as well as in the physical world; may not great villains be +compared to terrible catastrophes in nature (ll. 148-156)? He goes on to +say that no one but God can answer this question, that our human +reasoning springs from pride, and that the true course of reasoning is +simply to submit (ll. 156-164). He then suggests that "passions," by +which he means vices, are as necessary a part of the moral order as +storms of the physical world (ll. 165-172).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>142</b></td><td>livid deaths</td><td>pestilence</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>143-4</b></td><td></td><td>Pope was perhaps thinking of a terrible earthquake and flood that had +caused great loss of life in Chili the year before this poem appeared. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>150</b></td><td>then Nature deviates</td><td>Nature departs from her regular order on such occasions as these +catastrophes. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>151</b></td><td>that end</td><td>human happiness, as in l. 149.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>156</b></td><td></td><td>Cĉsar Borgia, the wicked son of Pope Alexander VI, and Catiline are +mentioned here as portents in the moral world parallel to plagues and +earthquakes in the physical.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>160</b></td><td>young Ammon</td><td>Alexander the Great. See note on <i>Essay on Criticism</i>, l. 376. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>163</b></td><td></td><td>Why do we accuse God for permitting wickedness when we do not blame Him +for permitting evil in the natural world?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>166</b></td><td>there</td><td>in nature</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>here</td><td>in man</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>173-206</b></td><td></td><td>In this section Pope reproves those who are dissatisfied with man's +faculties. He points out that all animals, man included, have powers +suited to their position in the world (ll. 179-188), and asserts that if +man had keener senses than he now has, he would be exposed to evils from +which he now is free (ll. 193-203).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>176</b></td><td>to want</td><td>to lack</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>177</b></td><td></td><td>Paraphrase this line in prose.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>181</b></td><td>compensated</td><td>accented on the antepenult.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>183</b></td><td>the state</td><td>the place which the creature occupies in the natural world.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>195</b></td><td>finer optics</td><td>keener power of sight.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>197</b></td><td>touch</td><td>a noun, subject of "were given," understood from l. 195.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>199</b></td><td>quick effluvia</td><td>pungent odors. The construction is very condensed here; "effluvia" may +be regarded like "touch" as a subject of "were given" (l. 195); but one +would expect rather a phrase to denote a keener sense of smell than man +now possesses.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>202</b></td><td>music of the spheres</td><td>it was an old belief that the stars and planets uttered musical notes as +they moved along their courses. These notes made up the "harmony of the +spheres." Shakespeare ('Merchant of Venice', V, 64-5) says that our +senses are too dull to hear it. Pope, following a passage in Cicero's +<i>Somnium Scipionis</i>, suggests that this music is too loud for human +senses.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>207-232</b></td><td></td><td>Pope now goes on to show how in the animal world there is an exact +gradation of the faculties of sense and of the powers of instinct. Man +alone is endowed with reason which is more than equivalent to all these +powers and makes him lord over all animals.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>212</b></td><td></td><td>The mole is almost blind; the lynx was supposed to be the most +keen-sighted of animals.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>213-4</b></td><td></td><td>The lion was supposed by Pope to hunt by sight alone as the dog by +scent. What does he mean by "the tainted green"?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>215-6</b></td><td></td><td>Fishes are almost deaf, while birds are very quick of hearing.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>219</b></td><td>nice</td><td>keenly discriminating.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>healing dew</td><td>healthful honey.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>221-222</b></td><td></td><td>The power of instinct which is barely perceptible in the pig amounts +almost to the power of reason in the elephant.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>223</b></td><td>barrier</td><td>pronounced like the French 'barrière', as a word of two syllables with +the accent on the last.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>226</b></td><td>Sense ... Thought</td><td>sensation and reason.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>227</b></td><td>middle natures</td><td>intermediate natures, which long to unite with those above or below +them. The exact sense is not very clear.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>233-58</b></td><td></td><td>In this passage Pope insists that the chain of being stretches unbroken +from God through man to the lowest created forms. If any link in this +chain were broken, as would happen if men possessed higher faculties +than are now assigned them, the whole universe would be thrown into +confusion. This is another answer to those who complain of the +imperfections of man's nature.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>234</b></td><td>quick</td><td>living. Pope does not discriminate between organic and inorganic matter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>240</b></td><td>glass</td><td>microscope</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>242-44</b></td><td></td><td>Inferior beings might then press upon us. If they did not, a fatal gap +would be left by our ascent in the scale.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>247</b></td><td>each system</td><td>Pope imagines the universe to be composed of an infinite number of +systems like ours. Since each of these is essential to the orderly +arrangement of the universe, any disorder such as he has imagined would +have infinitely destructive consequences. These are described in ll. +251-257.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>267-80</b></td><td></td><td>In these lines Pope speaks of God as the soul of the world in an +outburst of really exalted enthusiasm that is rare enough in his work.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>269</b></td><td>that</td><td>a relative pronoun referring to "soul," l. 268.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>270</b></td><td>th' ethereal frame</td><td>the heavens</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>276</b></td><td>as perfect in a hair as heart</td><td>this has been called "a vile antithesis," on the ground that there is no +reason why hair and heart should be contrasted. But Pope may have had in +mind the saying of Christ. "the very hairs of your head are all +numbered." The hairs are spoken of here as the least important part of +the body; the heart, on the other hand, has always been thought of as +the most important organ. There is, therefore, a real antithesis between +the two.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>278</b></td><td>Seraph ... burns</td><td>the seraphim according to old commentators are on fire with the love of +God.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>280</b></td><td>equals all</td><td>makes all things equal. This does not seem consistent with the idea of +the gradations of existence which Pope has been preaching throughout +this Epistle. Possibly it means that all things high and low are filled +alike with the divine spirit and in this sense all things are equal. But +one must not expect to find exact and consistent philosophy in the +<i>Essay on Man</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>281-94</b></td><td></td><td>Here Pope sums up the argument of this Epistle, urging man to recognize +his ignorance, to be content with his seeming imperfections, and to +realize that "whatever is, is right."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>282</b></td><td>our proper bliss</td><td>our happiness as men.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>283</b></td><td>point</td><td>appointed place in the universe.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>286</b></td><td>Secure</td><td>sure.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>289</b></td><td></td><td>Hobbes, an English philosopher with whose work Pope was, no doubt, +acquainted, says, "Nature is the art whereby God governs the world." +</td> +</tr> +</table><br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section11">An Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot</a></h2><br> + +<h4>Introduction</h4><br> + +Next to <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>, I think, the <i>Epistle to +Arbuthnot</i> is the most interesting and the most important of Pope's +poems — the most important since it shows the master poet of the age +employing his ripened powers in the field most suitable for their +display, that of personal satire, the most interesting, because, unlike +his former satiric poem the <i>Dunciad</i>, it is not mere invective, +but gives us, as no other poem of Pope's can be said to do, a portrait +of the poet himself.<br> +<br> +Like most of Pope's poems, the <i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i> owes its +existence to an objective cause. This was the poet's wish to justify +himself against a series of savage attacks, which had recently been +directed against him. If Pope had expected by the publication of the +<i>Dunciad</i> to crush the herd of scribblers who had been for years +abusing him, he must have been woefully disappointed. On the contrary, +the roar of insult and calumny rose louder than ever, and new voices +were added to the chorus. In the year 1733 two enemies entered the field +against Pope such as he had never yet had to encounter — enemies of high +social position, of acknowledged wit, and of a certain, though as the +sequel proved quite inadequate, talent for satire. These were Lady Mary +Wortley Montague and Lord John Hervey.<br> +<br> +Lady Mary had been for years acknowledged as one of the wittiest, most +learned, and most beautiful women of her day. Pope seems to have met her +in 1715 and at once joined the train of her admirers. When she +accompanied her husband on his embassy to Constantinople in the +following year, the poet entered into a long correspondence with her, +protesting in the most elaborate fashion his undying devotion. On her +return he induced her to settle with her husband at Twickenham. Here he +continued his attentions, half real, half in the affected gallantry of +the day, until, to quote the lady's own words to her daughter many years +after, <blockquote>"at some ill-chosen time when she least expected what romancers +call a declaration, he made such passionate love to her, as, in spite of +her utmost endeavours to be angry and look grave, provoked an immoderate +fit of laughter,"</blockquote> and, she added, from that moment Pope became her +implacable enemy. Certainly by the time Pope began to write the +<i>Dunciad</i> he was so far estranged from his old friend that he +permitted himself in that poem a scoffing allusion to a scandal in which +she had recently become involved. The lady answered, or the poet thought +that she did, with an anonymous pamphlet, <i>A Pop upon Pope</i>, +describing a castigation, wholly imaginary, said to have been inflicted +upon the poet as a proper reward for his satire. After this, of course, +all hope of a reconciliation was at an end, and in his satires and +epistles Pope repeatedly introduced Lady Mary under various titles in +the most offensive fashion. In his first <i>Imitation of Horace</i>, +published in February, 1733, he referred in the most unpardonable manner +to a certain Sappho, and the dangers attendant upon any acquaintance +with her. Lady Mary was foolish enough to apply the lines to herself and +to send a common friend to remonstrate with Pope. He coolly replied that +he was surprised that Lady Mary should feel hurt, since the lines could +only apply to certain women, naming four notorious scribblers, whose +lives were as immoral as their works. Such an answer was by no means +calculated to turn away the lady's wrath, and for an ally in the +campaign of anonymous abuse that she now planned she sought out her +friend Lord Hervey. John Hervey, called by courtesy Lord Hervey, the +second son of the Earl of Bristol, was one of the most prominent figures +at the court of George II. He had been made vice-chamberlain of the +royal household in 1730, and was the intimate friend and confidential +adviser of Queen Caroline. Clever, affable, unprincipled, and cynical, +he was a perfect type of the Georgian courtier to whom loyalty, +patriotism, honesty, and honor were so many synonyms for folly. He was +effeminate in habits and appearance, but notoriously licentious; he +affected to scoff at learning but made some pretense to literature, and +had written <i>Four Epistles after the Manner of Ovid</i>, and numerous +political pamphlets. Pope, who had some slight personal acquaintance +with him, disliked his political connections and probably despised his +verses, and in the <i>Imitation</i> already mentioned had alluded to him +under the title of Lord Fanny as capable of turning out a thousand lines +of verse a day. This was sufficient cause, if cause were needed, to +induce Hervey to join Lady Mary in her warfare against Pope.<br> +<br> +The first blow was struck in an anonymous poem, probably the combined +work of the two allies, called <i>Verses addressed to the Imitator of +Horace</i>, which appeared in March, 1733, and it was followed up in August +by an <i>Epistle from a Nobleman to a Doctor of Divinity</i>, which also +appeared anonymously, but was well known to be the work of Lord Hervey. +In these poems Pope was abused in the most unmeasured terms. His work +was styled a mere collection of libels; he had no invention except in +defamation; he was a mere pretender to genius. His morals were not left +unimpeached; he was charged with selling other men's work printed in his +name, — a gross distortion of his employing assistants in the translation +of the <i>Odyssey</i>, — he was ungrateful, unjust, a foe to human kind, an +enemy like the devil to all that have being. The noble authors, probably +well aware how they could give the most pain, proceeded to attack his +family and his distorted person. His parents were obscure and vulgar +people; and he himself a wretched outcast: + +<blockquote>with the emblem of [his] crooked mind<br> +Marked on [his] back like Cain by God's own hand. </blockquote> + +And to cap the climax, as soon as these shameful libels were in print, +Lord Hervey bustled off to show them to the Queen and to laugh with her +over the fine way in which he had put down the bitter little poet.<br> +<br> +In order to understand and appreciate Pope's reception of these attacks, +we must recall to ourselves the position in which he lived. He was a +Catholic, and I have already (<a href="#introduction">Introduction</a>) called attention to +the precarious, tenure by which the Catholics of his time held their +goods, their persons, their very lives, in security. He was the intimate +of Bolingbroke, of all men living the most detested by the court, and +his noble friends were almost without exception the avowed enemies of +the court party. Pope had good reason to fear that the malice of his +enemies might not be content to stop with abusive doggerel. But he was +not in the least intimidated. On the contrary, he broke out in a fine +flame of wrath against Lord Hervey, whom he evidently considered the +chief offender, challenged his enemy to disavow the <i>Epistle</i>, and on +his declining to do so, proceeded to make what he called "a proper +reply" in a prose <i>Letter to a Noble Lord</i>. This masterly piece of +satire was passed about from hand to hand, but never printed. We are +told that Sir Robert Walpole, who found Hervey a convenient tool in +court intrigues, bribed Pope not to print it by securing a good position +in France for one of the priests who had watched over the poet's youth. +If this story be true, and we have Horace Walpole's authority for it, we +may well imagine that the entry of the bribe, like that of Uncle Toby's +oath, was blotted out by a tear from the books of the Recording Angel.<br> +<br> +But Pope was by no means disposed to let the attacks go without an +answer of some kind, and the particular form which his answer took seems +to have been suggested by a letter from Arbuthnot. <blockquote>"I make it my last +request," wrote his beloved physician, now sinking fast under the +diseases that brought him to the grave, "that you continue that noble +disdain and abhorrence of vice, which you seem so naturally endued with, +but still with a due regard to your own safety; and study more to reform +than to chastise, though the one often cannot be effected without the +other."</blockquote> <blockquote>"I took very kindly your advice," Pope replied, "... and it has +worked so much upon me considering the time and state you gave it in, +that I determined to address to you one of my epistles written by +piecemeal many years, and which I have now made haste to put together; +wherein the question is stated, what were, and are my motives of +writing, the objections to them, and my answers."</blockquote> + + In other words, the +<i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i> which we see that Pope was working over at the +date of this letter, August 25, 1734, was, in the old-fashioned phrase, +his <i>Apologia</i>, his defense of his life and work.<br> +<br> +As usual, Pope's account of his work cannot be taken literally. A +comparison of dates shows that the <i>Epistle</i> instead of having been +"written by piecemeal many years" is essentially the work of one +impulse, the desire to vindicate his character, his parents, and his +work from the aspersions cast upon them by Lord Hervey and Lady Mary. +The exceptions to this statement are two, or possibly three, passages +which we know to have been written earlier and worked into the poem with +infinite art.<br> +<br> +The first of these is the famous portrait of Addison as Atticus. I have +already spoken of the reasons that led to Pope's breach with Addison +(Introduction); and there is good reason to believe that this +portrait sprang directly from Pope's bitter feeling toward the elder +writer for his preference of Tickell's translation. The lines were +certainly written in Addison's lifetime, though we may be permitted to +doubt whether Pope really did send them to him, as he once asserted. +They did not appear in print, however, till four years after Addison's +death, when they were printed apparently without Pope's consent in a +volume of miscellanies. It is interesting to note that in this form the +full name "Addison" appeared in the last line. Some time later Pope +acknowledged the verses and printed them with a few changes in his +<i>Miscellany</i> of 1727, substituting the more decorous "A — -n" for +the "Addison" of the first text. Finally he worked over the passage +again and inserted it, for a purpose that will be shown later, in the +<i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i>.<br> +<br> +It is not worth while to discuss here the justice or injustice of this +famous portrait. In fact, the question hardly deserves to be raised. The +passage is admittedly a satire, and a satire makes no claim to be a just +and final sentence. Admitting, as we must, that Pope was in the wrong in +his quarrel with Addison, we may well admit that he has not done him +full justice. But we must equally admit that the picture is drawn with +wonderful skill, that praise and blame are deftly mingled, and that the +satire is all the more severe because of its frank admission of the +great man's merits. And it must also be said that Pope has hit off some +of the faults of Addison's character, — his coldness, his +self-complacency, his quiet sneer, his indulgence of flattering +fools — in a way that none of his biographers have done. That Pope was +not blind to Addison's chief merit as an author is fully shown by a +passage in a later poem, less well known than the portrait of Atticus, +but well worth quotation. After speaking of the licentiousness of +literature in Restoration days, he goes on to say: + +<blockquote>In our own (excuse some courtly stains)<br> +No whiter page than Addison's remains,<br> +He from the taste obscene reclaims our youth,<br> +And sets the passions on the side of truth,<br> +Forms the soft bosom with the gentlest art,<br> +And pours each human virtue in the heart. <br><br> + +<i>Epistle to Augustus, II</i>. 215-220.</blockquote> + +If Pope was unjust to Addison the man, he at least made amends to +Addison the moralist.<br> +<br> +The second passage that may have had an independent existence before the +<i>Epistle</i> was conceived is the portrait of Bufo, ll. 229-247. There is +reason to believe that this attack was first aimed at Bubb Doddington, a +courtier of Hervey's class, though hardly of so finished a type, to whom +Pope alludes as Bubo in l. 278. When Pope was working on the <i>Epistle</i>, +however, he saw an opportunity to vindicate his own independence of +patronage by a satiric portrait of the great Mĉcenas of his younger +days, Lord Halifax, who had ventured some foolish criticisms on Pope's +translation of the <i>Iliad</i>, and seems to have expected that the poet +should dedicate the great work to him in return for an offer of a +pension which he made and Pope declined. There is no reason to believe +that Pope cherished any very bitter resentment toward Halifax. On the +contrary, in a poem published some years after the <i>Epistle</i> he boasted +of his friendship with Halifax, naming him outright, and adding in a +note that the noble lord was no less distinguished by his love of +letters than his abilities in Parliament.<br> +<br> +The third passage, a tender reference to his mother's age and weakness, +was written at least as early as 1731, — Mrs. Pope died in 1733, — and was +incorporated in the <i>Epistle</i> to round it off with a picture of the poet +absorbed in his filial duties at the very time that Hervey and Lady Mary +were heaping abuse upon him, as a monster devoid of all good qualities. +And now having discussed the various insertions in the <i>Epistle</i>, let us +look for a moment at the poem as a whole, and see what is the nature of +Pope's defense of himself and of his reply to his enemies.<br> +<br> +It is cast in the form of a dialogue between the poet himself and +Arbuthnot. Pope begins by complaining of the misfortunes which his +reputation as a successful man of letters has brought upon him. He is a +mark for all the starving scribblers of the town who besiege him for +advice, recommendations, and hard cash. Is it not enough to make a man +write <i>Dunciads</i>? Arbuthnot warns him against the danger of making foes +(ll. 101- 104), but Pope replies that his flatterers are even more +intolerable than his open enemies. And with a little outburst of +impatience, such as we may well imagine him to have indulged in during +his later years, he cries: + +<blockquote>Why did I write? What sin to me unknown<br> +Dipt me in ink, my parents' or my own? </blockquote> + +and begins with l. 125 his poetical autobiography. He tells of his first +childish efforts, of poetry taken up "to help me thro' this long disease +my life," and then goes on to speak of the noble and famous friends who +had praised his early work and urged him to try his fortune in the open +field of letters. He speaks of his first poems, the <i>Pastorals</i> and +<i>Windsor Forest</i>, harmless as Hervey's own verses, and tells how +even then critics like Dennis fell foul of him. Rival authors hated him, +too, especially such pilfering bards as Philips. This he could endure, +but the coldness and even jealousy of such a man as Addison — and here +appears the famous portrait of Atticus — was another matter, serious +enough to draw tears from all lovers of mankind.<br> +<br> +Passing on (l. 213) to the days of his great success when his +<i>Homer</i> was the talk of the town, he asserts his ignorance of all +the arts of puffery and his independence of mutual admiration societies. +He left those who wished a patron to the tender mercies of Halifax, who +fed fat on flattery and repaid his flatterers merely with a good word or +a seat at his table. After all, the poet could afford to lose the +society of Bufo's toadies while such a friend as Gay was left him (l. +254).<br> +<br> +After an eloquent expression of his wish for independence (ll. 261-270), +he goes on to speak of the babbling friends who insist that he is always +meditating some new satire, and persist in recognizing some wretched +poetaster's lampoon as his. And so by a natural transition Pope comes to +speak of his own satiric poems and their aims. He says, and rightly, +that he has never attacked virtue or innocence. He reserves his lash for +those who trample on their neighbors and insult "fallen worth," for cold +or treacherous friends, liars, and babbling blockheads. Let Sporus +(Hervey) tremble (l. 303). Arbuthnot interposes herewith an ejaculation +of contemptuous pity; is it really worth the poet's while to castigate +such a slight thing as Hervey, that "mere white curd"? But Pope has +suffered too much from Hervey's insolence to stay his hand, and he now +proceeds to lay on the lash with equal fury and precision, drawing blood +at every stroke, until we seem to see the wretched fop writhing and +shrieking beneath the whip. And then with a magnificent transition he +goes on (ll. 332-337) to draw a portrait of himself. Here, he says in +effect, is the real man that Sporus has so maligned. The portrait is +idealized, of course; one could hardly expect a poet speaking in his own +defense in reply to venomous attacks to dissect his own character with +the stern impartiality of the critics of the succeeding century, but it +is in all essentials a portrait at once impressive and true.<br> +<br> +Arbuthnot again interrupts (l. 358) to ask why he spares neither the +poor nor the great in his satire, and Pope replies that he hates knaves +in every rank of life. Yet by nature, he insists, he is of an easy +temper, more readily deceived than angered, and in a long catalogue of +instances he illustrates his own patience and good nature (ll. 366-385). +It must be frankly confessed that these lines do not ring true. Pope +might in the heat of argument convince himself that he was humble and +slow to wrath, but he has never succeeded in convincing his readers.<br> +<br> +With l. 382 Pope turns to the defense of his family, which, as we have +seen, his enemies had abused as base and obscure. He draws a noble +picture of his dead father, "by nature honest, by experience wise" +simple, modest, and temperate, and passes to the description of himself +watching over the last years of his old mother, his sole care to + +<blockquote>Explore the thought, explain the asking eye<br> +And keep a while one parent from the sky. </blockquote> + +If the length of days which Heaven has promised those who honor father +and mother fall to his lot, may Heaven preserve him such a friend as +Arbuthnot to bless those days. And Arbuthnot closes the dialogue with a +word which is meant, I think, to sum up the whole discussion and to +pronounce the verdict that Pope's life had been good and honorable. + +<blockquote><a name="frarb1">Whether</a> that blessing<a href="#farb1"><sup>1</sup></a> be deny'd or giv'n,<br> +Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heav'n. </blockquote> + +It seems hardly necessary to point out the merits of so patent a +masterpiece as the <i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i>. In order to enjoy it to the +full, indeed, one must know something of the life of the author, of the +circumstances under which it was written, and, in general, of the social +and political life of the time. But even without this special knowledge +no reader can fail to appreciate the marvelous ease, fluency, and +poignancy of this admirable satire. There is nothing like it in our +language except Pope's other satires, and of all his satires it is, by +common consent, easily the first. It surpasses the satiric poetry of +Dryden in pungency and depth of feeling as easily as it does that of +Byron in polish and artistic restraint. Its range of tone is remarkable. +At times it reads like glorified conversation, as in the opening lines; +at times it flames and quivers with emotion, as in the assault on +Hervey, or in the defense of his parents. Even in the limited field of +satiric portraiture there is a wide difference between the manner in +which Pope has drawn the portrait of Atticus and that of Sporus. The +latter is a masterpiece of pure invective; no allowances are made, no +lights relieve the darkness of the shadows, the portrait is frankly +inhuman. It is the product of an unrestrained outburst of bitter +passion. The portrait of Atticus, on the other hand, was, as we know, +the work of years. It is the product not of an outburst of fury, but of +a slowly growing and intense dislike, which, while recognizing the +merits of its object, fastened with peculiar power upon his faults and +weaknesses. The studious restraint which controls the satirist's hand +makes it only the more effective. We know well enough that the portrait +is not a fair one, but we are forced to remind ourselves of this at +every step to avoid the spell which Pope's apparent impartiality casts +over our judgments. The whole passage reads not so much like the heated +plea of an advocate as the measured summing-up of a judge, and the last +couplet falls on our ears with the inevitability of a final sentence. +But the peculiar merit of the <i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i> consists +neither in the ease and polish of its style, nor in the vigor and +effectiveness of its satire, but in the insight it gives us into the +heart and mind of the poet himself. It presents an ideal picture of +Pope, the man and the author, of his life, his friendships, his love of +his parents, his literary relationships and aims. And it is quite futile +to object, as some critics have done, that this picture is not exactly +in accordance with the known facts of Pope's life. No great man can be +tried and judged on the mere record of his acts. We must know the +circumstances that shaped these, and the motives that inspired them. A +man's ideals, if genuinely held and honestly followed, are perhaps even +more valuable contributions to our final estimate of the man himself +than all he did or left undone. + +<blockquote>All I could never be, <br> +All, men ignored in me, <br> +This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped. </blockquote> + +And in the <i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i> we recognize in Pope ideals of +independence, of devotion to his art, of simple living, of loyal +friendship, and of filial piety which shine in splendid contrast with +the gross, servile, and cynically immoral tone of the age and society in +which he lived.<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr width="50%" align="left"><br> +<br> +<a name="farb1"><span style="color: #FF0000;">Footnote 1:</span></a> <i>i. e.</i> the blessing of Arbuthnot's future companionship, +for which Pope (l. 413) had just prayed.<br> +<a href="#frarb1">return to footnote mark</a><br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<table summary="cribs4" width="100%" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="20"> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><th>line</th><th>reference</th><th>meaning</th> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Advertisement</h4> +</td><td></td><td>Dr. John Arbuthnot, one of Pope's most intimate friends, had been +physician to Queen Anne, and was a man of letters as well as a doctor. +Arbuthnot, Pope, and Swift had combined to get out a volume of +Miscellanies in 1737. His health was failing rapidly at this time, and +he died a month or so after the appearance of this <i>Epistle</i>. </td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><h4>Epistle</h4> +</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>1</b></td><td>John</td><td>John Searle, Pope's faithful servant.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>4</b></td><td>Bedlam</td><td>a lunatic asylum in London in Pope's day. Notice how Pope mentions, in +the same breath, Bedlam and Parnassus, the hill of the Muses which poets +might well be supposed to haunt.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>8</b></td><td>thickets</td><td>the groves surrounding Pope's villa.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>Grot.</td><td>see Introduction [grotto]</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>10</b></td><td>the chariot</td><td>the coach in which Pope drove.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>the barge</td><td>the boat in which Pope was rowed upon the Thames.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>13</b></td><td>the Mint</td><td>a district in London where debtors were free from arrest. As they could +not be arrested anywhere on Sunday, Pope represents them as taking that +day to inflict their visits on him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>15</b></td><td>parson</td><td>probably a certain Eusden, who had some pretensions to letters, but who +ruined himself by drink.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>17</b></td><td>clerk</td><td>a law clerk.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>18</b></td><td>engross</td><td>write legal papers.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>19-20</b></td><td></td><td>An imaginary portrait of a mad poet who keeps on writing verses even in +his cell in Bedlam. Pope may have been thinking of Lee, a dramatist of +Dryden's day who was confined for a time in this asylum.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>23</b></td><td>Arthur</td><td>Arthur Moore, a member of Parliament for some years and well known in +London society. His "giddy son," James Moore, who took the name of Moore +Smythe, dabbled in letters and was a bitter enemy of Pope.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>25</b></td><td>Cornus</td><td>Robert Lord Walpole, whose wife deserted him in 1734. Horace Walpole +speaks of her as half mad.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>31</b></td><td>sped</td><td>done for.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>40</b></td><td></td><td>Pope's counsel to delay the publication of the works read to him is +borrowed from Horace: "nonumque prematur in annum" '(<i>Ars Poetica,</i> 388).'</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>41</b></td><td>Drury-land</td><td>like Grub Street, a haunt of poor authors at this time.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>43</b></td><td>before Term ends</td><td>before the season is over; that is, as soon as the poem is written.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>48</b></td><td>a Prologue</td><td>for a play. Of course a prologue by the famous Mr. Pope would be of +great value to a poor and unknown dramatist.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>49</b></td><td>Pitholeon</td><td>the name of a foolish poet mentioned by Horace. Pope uses it here for +his enemy Welsted, mentioned in l. 373. — 'his Grace:' the title given a +Duke in Great Britain. The Duke here referred to is said to be the Duke +of Argyle, one of the most influential of the great Whig lords.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>53</b></td><td>Curll</td><td>a notorious publisher of the day, and an enemy of Pope. The implication +is that if Pope will not grant Pitholeon's request, the latter will +accept Curll's invitation and concoct a new libel against the poet.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>60</b></td><td></td><td>Pope was one of the few men of letters of his day who had not written a +play, and he was at this time on bad terms with certain actors.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>62</b></td><td></td><td>Bernard Lintot, the publisher of Pope's translation of Homer.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>66</b></td><td>go snacks</td><td>share the profits. Pope represents the unknown dramatist as trying to +bribe him to give a favorable report of the play. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>69</b></td><td>Midas</td><td>an old legend tells us that Midas was presented with a pair of ass's +ears by an angry god whose music he had slighted. His barber, or, +Chaucer says, his queen, discovered the change which Midas had tried to +conceal, and unable to keep the secret whispered it to the reeds in the +river, who straightway spread the news abroad.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>75</b></td><td></td><td>With this line Arbuthnot is supposed to take up the conversation. This +is indicated here and elsewhere by the letter A.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>79</b></td><td><i>Dunciad</i></td><td>see Introduction</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>85</b></td><td>Codrus</td><td>a name borrowed from Juvenal to denote a foolish poet. Pope uses it here +for some conceited dramatist who thinks none the less of himself because +his tragedy is rejected with shouts of laughter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>96</b></td><td></td><td>Explain the exact meaning of this line.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>97</b></td><td>Bavius</td><td>a stock name for a bad poet. See note on <i>Essay on Criticism</i>, l. 34.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>98</b></td><td>Philips</td><td>Ambrose Philips, author among other things of a set of <i>Pastorals</i> that +appeared in the same volume with Pope, 1709. Pope and he soon became +bitter enemies. He was patronized by a Bishop Boulter.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>99</b></td><td>Sappho</td><td>Here as elsewhere Pope uses the name of the Greek poetess for his enemy, +Lady Mary Wortley Montague.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>109</b></td><td>Grubstreet</td><td>a wretched street in London, inhabited in Pope's day by hack writers, +most of whom were his enemies. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>111</b></td><td>Curll</td><td>(see note to l. 53) had printed a number of Pope's letters without the +poet's consent some years before this poem was written.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>113-32</b></td><td></td><td>Pope here describes the flatterers who were foolish enough to pay him +personal compliments. They compare him to Horace who was short like +Pope, though fat, and who seems to have suffered from colds; also to +Alexander, one of whose shoulders was higher than the other, and to +Ovid, whose other name, Naso, might indicate that long noses were a +characteristic feature of his family. Pope really had large and +beautiful eyes. Maro, l. 122, is Virgil.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>123</b></td><td></td><td>With this line Pope begins an account of his life as a poet. For his +precocity, see Introduction.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>129</b></td><td>ease</td><td>amuse, entertain.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>'friend, not Wife:' </td><td>the reference is, perhaps, to +Martha Blount, Pope's friend, and may have been meant as a contradiction +of his reported secret marriage to her.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>132</b></td><td>to bear</td><td>to endure the pains and troubles of an invalid's life.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>133</b></td><td>Granville</td><td>George Granville, Lord Lansdowne, a poet and patron of letters to whom +Pope had dedicated his <i>Windsor Forest.</i></td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>134</b></td><td>Walsh</td><td>see note on <i>Essay on Criticism</i>, l. 729.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>135</b></td><td>Garth</td><td>Sir Samuel Garth, like Arbuthnot, a doctor, a man of letters, and an +early friend of Pope.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>137</b></td><td></td><td>Charles Talbot, Duke of Shrewsbury; John, Lord Somers; and John +Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham; all leading statesmen and patrons of +literature in Queen Anne's day.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>138</b></td><td>Rochester</td><td>Francis Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, an intimate friend of Pope.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>139</b></td><td>St. John</td><td>Bolingbroke. For Pope's relations with him, see introduction to the +<i>Essay on Man</i>, p. 116.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>143</b></td><td></td><td>Gilbert Burnet and John Oldmixon had written historical works from the +Whig point of view. Roger Cooke, a now forgotten writer, had published a +<i>Detection of the Court and State of England</i>. Pope in a note on this +line calls them all three authors of secret and scandalous history.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>146</b></td><td></td><td>The reference is to Pope's early descriptive poems, the <i>Pastorals</i> and +<i>Windsor Forest</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>147</b></td><td>gentle Fanny's</td><td>a sneer at Lord Hervey's verses. See the introduction to this poem.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>149</b></td><td>Gildon</td><td>a critic of the time who had repeatedly attacked Pope. The poet told +Spence that he had heard Addison gave Gildon ten pounds to slander him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>151</b></td><td>Dennis</td><td>see note on <i>Essay on Criticism</i>. l. 270.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>156</b></td><td>kiss'd the rod</td><td>Pope was sensible enough to profit by the criticisms even of his +enemies. He corrected several passages in the <i>Essay on Criticism</i> which +Dennis had properly found fault with.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>162</b></td><td>Bentley</td><td>the most famous scholar of Pope's day. Pope disliked him because of his +criticism of the poet's translation of the <i>Iliad</i>, "good verses, but +not Homer." The epithet "slashing" refers to Bentley's edition of +<i>Paradise Lost</i> in which he altered and corrected the poet's text to +suit his own ideas.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>Tibbalds</td><td>Lewis Theobald (pronounced Tibbald), a +scholar who had attacked Pope's edition of Shakespeare. Pope calls him +"piddling" because of his scrupulous attention to details.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>177</b></td><td>the Bard</td><td>Philips, see note on l. 98. Pope claimed that Philips's <i>Pastorals</i> were +plagiarized from Spenser, and other poets. Philips, also, translated +some <i>Persian Tales</i> for the low figure of half a crown apiece. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>187</b></td><td>bade translate</td><td>suggested that they translate other men's work, since they could write +nothing valuable of their own.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>188</b></td><td>Tate</td><td>a poetaster of the generation before Pope. He is remembered as the part +author of a doggerel version of the Psalms.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>191-212</b></td><td></td><td>For a discussion of this famous passage, see introduction to the +<i>Epistle</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>196</b></td><td>the Turk</td><td>it was formerly the practice for a Turkish monarch when succeeding to +the throne to have all his brothers murdered so as to do away with +possible rivals.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>199</b></td><td>faint praise</td><td>Addison was hearty enough when he cared to praise his friends. Pope is +thinking of the coldness with which Addison treated his <i>Pastorals</i> as +compared to those of Philips.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>206</b></td><td>oblig'd</td><td>note the old-fashioned pronunciation to rhyme with "besieged."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>207</b></td><td>Cato</td><td>an unmistakable allusion to Addison's tragedy in which the famous Roman +appears laying down the law to the remnants of the Senate. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>209</b></td><td>Templars</td><td>students of law at the "Temple" in London who prided themselves on their +good taste in literature. A body of them came on purpose to applaud +'Cato' on the first night.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>raise</td><td>exalt, praise.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>211-2</b></td><td>laugh ... weep</td><td>explain the reason for these actions.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>Atticus</td><td>Addison's name was given in the first version of this passage. Then it +was changed to "A — -n." Addison had been mentioned in the <i>Spectator</i> +(No. 150) under the name of Atticus as "in every way one of the greatest +geniuses the age has produced."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>213</b></td><td>rubric on the walls</td><td>Lintot, Pope's old publisher, used to stick up the titles of new books +in red letters on the walls of his shop. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>214</b></td><td>with claps</td><td>with clap-bills, posters.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>215</b></td><td>smoking</td><td>hot from the press.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>220</b></td><td>George</td><td>George II, king of England at this time. His indifference to literature +was notorious.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>228</b></td><td>Bufo</td><td>the picture of a proud but grudging patron of letters which follows was +first meant for Bubb Doddington, a courtier and patron of letters at the +time the poem was written. In order to connect it more closely with the +time of which he was writing, Pope added ll. 243-246, which pointed to +Charles Montague, Earl of Halifax. Halifax was himself a poet and +affected to be a great patron of poetry, but his enemies accused him of +only giving his clients "good words and good dinners." Pope tells an +amusing story of Montague's comments on his translation of the <i>Iliad</i> +(Spence, <i>Anecdotes</i>, p. 134). But Halifax subscribed for ten copies of +the translation, so that Pope, at least, could not complain of his lack +of generosity.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>Castalian state</td><td>the kingdom of poets</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>232</b></td><td></td><td>His name was coupled with that of Horace as a poet and critic.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>234</b></td><td>Pindar without a head</td><td>some headless statue which Bufo insisted was a genuine classic figure of +Pindar, the famous Greek lyric poet. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>237</b></td><td>his seat</td><td>his country seat.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>242</b></td><td>paid in kind</td><td>What does this phrase mean?</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>243</b></td><td></td><td>Dryden died in 1700. He had been poor and obliged to work hard for a +living in his last years, but hardly had to starve. Halifax offered to +pay the expenses of his funeral and contribute five hundred pounds for a +monument, and Pope not unreasonably suggests that some of this bounty +might have been bestowed on Dryden in his lifetime.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>249</b></td><td></td><td>When a politician wants a writer to put in a day's work in defending +him. Walpole, for example, who cared nothing for poetry, spent large +sums in retaining writers to defend him in the journals and pamphlets of +the day.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>254</b></td><td></td><td>John Gay, the author of some very entertaining verses, was an intimate +friend of Pope. On account of some supposed satirical allusions his +opera <i>Polly</i> was refused a license, and when his friends, the Duke and +Duchess of Queensberry (see l. 260) solicited subscriptions for it in +the palace, they were driven from the court. Gay died in 1732, and Pope +wrote an epitaph for his tomb in Westminster Abbey. It is to this that +he alludes in l. 258.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>274</b></td><td>Balbus</td><td>Balbus is said to mean the Earl of Kinnoul, at one time an acquaintance +of Pope and Swift.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>278</b></td><td></td><td>Sir William Yonge, a Whig politician whom Pope disliked. He seems to +have written occasional verses. Bubo is Bubo Doddington (see note on l +230).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>297-8</b></td><td></td><td>In the Fourth Moral Essay, published in 1731 as an <i>Epistle to the Earl +of Burlington</i>, Pope had given a satirical description of a nobleman's +house and grounds, adorned and laid out at vast expense, but in bad +taste. Certain features of this description were taken from Canons, the +splendid country place of the Duke of Chandos, and the duke was at once +identified by a scandal-loving public with the Timon of the poem. In the +description Pope speaks of the silver bell which calls worshipers to +Timon's chapel, and of the soft Dean preaching there "who never mentions +Hell to ears polite." In this passage of the <i>Epistle to Arbuthnot</i> he +is protesting against the people who swore that they could identify the +bell and the Dean as belonging to the chapel at Canons.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>303</b></td><td>Sporus</td><td>a favorite of Nero, used here for Lord Hervey. See introduction to this +poem.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>304</b></td><td>ass's milk</td><td>Hervey was obliged by bad health to keep a strict diet, and a cup of +ass's milk was his daily drink.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>308</b></td><td>painted child</td><td>Hervey was accustomed to paint his face like a woman.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>317-9</b></td><td></td><td>Pope is thinking of Milton's striking description of Satan "squat like a +toad" by the ear of the sleeping Eve (<i>Paradise Lost</i>, IV, 800). In this +passage "Eve" refers to Queen Caroline with whom Hervey was on intimate +terms. It is said that he used to have a seat in the queen's hunting +chaise "where he sat close behind her perched at her ear".</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>322</b></td><td>now master up, now miss</td><td>Pope borrowed this telling phrase from a pamphlet against Hervey written +by Pulteney, a political opponent, in which the former is called "a +pretty little master-miss."</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>326</b></td><td>the board</td><td>the Council board where Hervey sat as member of the Privy Council.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>328-9</b></td><td></td><td>An allusion to the old pictures of the serpent in Eden with a snake's +body and a woman's, or angel's, face.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>330</b></td><td>parts</td><td>talents, natural gifts.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>338-9</b></td><td></td><td>An allusion to Pope's abandoning the imaginative topics to his early +poems, as the <i>Pastorals</i> and <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>, and turning to +didactic verse as in the <i>Essay on Man</i>, and the <i>Moral Epistles</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>347</b></td><td></td><td>An allusion to a story circulated, in an abusive pamphlet called <i>A Pop +upon Pope</i>, that the poet had been whipped for his satire and that he +had cried like a child.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>349</b></td><td></td><td>Dull and scandalous poems printed under Pope's name, or attributed to +him by his enemies.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>351</b></td><td>the pictur'd shape</td><td>Pope was especially hurt by the caricatures which exaggerated his +personal deformity.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>353</b></td><td>a friend is exile</td><td>probably Bishop Atterbury, then in exile for his Jacobite opinions.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>354-5</b></td><td></td><td>Another reference to Hervey who was suspected of poisoning the mind of +the King against Pope.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>361</b></td><td>Japhet</td><td>Japhet Crooke, a notorious forger of the time. He died in prison in +1734, after having had his nose slit and ears cropped for his crimes; +see below, l. 365.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>363</b></td><td>Knight of the post</td><td>a slang term for a professional witness ready to, swear to anything for +money. A knight of the shire, on the other hand, is the representative +of a county in the House of Commons.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>367</b></td><td>bit</td><td>tricked, taken in, a piece of Queen Anne slang. The allusion is probably +to the way in which Lady Mary Wortley Montague allowed Pope to make love +to her and then laughed at him.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>369</b></td><td>friend to his distress</td><td>in 1733, when old Dennis was in great poverty, a play was performed for +his benefit, for which Pope obligingly wrote a prologue.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>371</b></td><td></td><td>Colley Gibber, actor and poet laureate. Pope speaks as if it were an act +of condescension for him to have drunk with Gibber.''</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td></td><td>Moore</td><td>James +Moore Smythe (see note on l. 23), whom Pope used to meet at the house of +the Blounts. He wrote a comedy, <i>The Rival Modes</i>, in which he +introduced six lines that Pope had written. Pope apparently had given +him leave to do so, and then retracted his permission. But Moore used +them without the permission and an undignified quarrel arose as to the +true authorship of the passage.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>373</b></td><td>Welsted</td><td>a hack writer of the day, had falsely charged Pope with being +responsible for the death of the lady who is celebrated in Pope's <i>Elegy +to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>374-5</b></td><td></td><td>There is an allusion here that has never been fully explained. Possibly +the passage refers to Teresa Blount whom Pope suspected of having +circulated slanderous reports concerning his relations with her sister.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>376-7</b></td><td></td><td>Suffered Budgell to attribute to his (Pope's) pen the slanderous gossip +of the <i>Grub Street Journal</i>, — a paper to which Pope did, as a matter of +fact, contribute — and let him (Budgell) write anything he pleased except +his (Pope's) will. Budgell, a distant cousin of Addison's, fell into bad +habits after his friend's death. He was strongly suspected of having +forged a will by which Dr. Tindal of Oxford left him a considerable sum +of money. He finally drowned himself in the Thames. +</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>378</b></td><td>the two Curlls</td><td>Curll, the bookseller, and Lord Hervey whom Pope here couples with him +because of Hervey's vulgar abuse of Pope's personal deformities and +obscure parentage.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>380</b></td><td>yet why</td><td>Why should they abuse Pope's inoffensive parents? Compare the following +lines.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>383</b></td><td></td><td>Moore's own mother was suspected of loose conduct.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>386-8</b></td><td>Of gentle blood ... each parent</td><td>Pope asserted, perhaps incorrectly, that his father belonged to a +gentleman's family, the head of which was the Earl of Downe. His mother +was the daughter of a Yorkshire gentleman, who lost two sons in the +service of Charles I (cf. l. 386).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>389</b></td><td>Bestia</td><td>probably the elder Horace Walpole, who was in receipt of a handsome +pension.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>391</b></td><td></td><td>An allusion to Addison's unhappy marriage with the Countess of Warwick.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>393</b></td><td>the good man</td><td>Pope's father, who as a devout Roman Catholic refused to take the oath +of allegiance (cf. l. 395), or risk the equivocations sanctioned by the +"schoolmen,"<i> i.e.</i> the Catholic casuists of the day (l. 398).</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>404</b></td><td>friend</td><td>Arbuthnot, to whom the epistle is addressed.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>405-11</b></td><td></td><td>The first draft of these appeared in a letter to Aaron Hill, September +3, 1731, where Pope speaks of having sent them "the other day to a +particular friend," perhaps the poet Thomson. Mrs. Pope, who was very +old and feeble, was of course alive when they were first written, but +died more than a year before the passage appeared in its revised form in +this <i>Epistle</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>412</b></td><td></td><td>An allusion to the promise contained in the fifth commandment.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>415</b></td><td>served a Queen</td><td>Arbuthnot had been Queen Anne's doctor, but was driven out of his rooms +in the palace after her death.</td> +</tr> +<tr align="left" valign="middle"><td><b>416</b></td><td>that blessing</td><td>long life for Arbuthnot. It was, in fact, denied, for he died a month or +so after the appearance of the <i>Epistle</i>. +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a></p><hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section11a">Notes on <i>An Ode on Solitude</i></a></h2><br> + +Pope says that this delightful little poem was written at the early age +of twelve. It first appeared in a letter to his friend, Henry Cromwell, +dated July 17, 1709. There are several variations between this first +form and that in which it was finally published, and it is probable that +Pope thought enough of his boyish production to subject it to repeated +revision. Its spirit is characteristic of a side of Pope's nature that +is often forgotten. He was, indeed, the poet of the society of his day, +urban, cultured, and pleasure-loving; but to the end of his days he +retained a love for the quiet charm of country life which he had come to +feel in his boyhood at Binfield, and for which he early withdrew from +the whirl and dissipations of London to the groves and the grotto of his +villa at Twickenham. <br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a> / <a href="#cp2">Contents, p. 2</a></p><hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section11b">Notes on <i>The Descent of Dullness</i></a></h2><br> +In the fourth book of the <i>Dunciad</i>, Pope abandons the satire on +the pretenders to literary fame which had run through the earlier books, +and flies at higher game. He represents the Goddess Dullness as "coming +in her majesty to destroy Order and Science, and to substitute the +Kingdom of the Dull upon earth." He attacks the pedantry and formalism +of university education in his day, the dissipation and false taste of +the traveled gentry, the foolish pretensions to learning of collectors +and virtuosi, and the daringly irreverent speculations of freethinkers +and infidels. At the close of the book he represents the Goddess as +dismissing her worshipers with a speech which she concludes with "a yawn +of extraordinary virtue." Under its influence "all nature nods," and +pulpits, colleges, and Parliament succumb. The poem closes with the +magnificent description of the descent of Dullness and her final +conquest of art, philosophy, and religion. It is said that Pope himself +admired these lines so much that he could not repeat them without his +voice faltering with emotion. "And well it might, sir," said Dr. Johnson +when this anecdote was repeated to him, "for they are noble lines." And +Thackeray in his lecture on Pope in <i>The English Humorists</i> says: + +<blockquote>"In these astonishing lines Pope reaches, I think, to the very + greatest height which his sublime art has attained, and shows himself + the equal of all poets of all times. It is the brightest ardor, the + loftiest assertion of truth, the most generous wisdom, illustrated by + the noblest poetic figure, and spoken in words the aptest, grandest, + and most harmonious."</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a> / <a href="#cp2">Contents, p. 2</a></p><hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section11c">Notes on <i>The Epitaph on Gay</i></a></h2><br> +John Gay, the idlest, best-natured, and best-loved man of letters of his +day, was the special friend of Pope. His early work, <i>The Shepherd's +Week</i>, was planned as a parody on the <i>Pastorals</i> of Pope's +rival, Ambrose Philips, and Pope assisted him in the composition of his +luckless farce, <i>Three Hours after Marriage</i>. When Gay's opera +<i>Polly</i> was forbidden by the licenser, and Gay's patrons, the Duke +and Duchess of Queensberry, were driven from court for soliciting +subscriptions for him, Pope warmly espoused his cause. Gay died in 1732 +and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Pope's epitaph for his tomb was +first published in the quarto edition of Pope's works in 1735 — Johnson, +in his discussion of Pope's epitaphs (<i>Lives of the Poets</i>), +devotes a couple of pages of somewhat captious criticism to these lines; +but they have at least the virtue of simplicity and sincerity, and are +at once an admirable portrait of the man and a lasting tribute to the +poet Gay. +<br> +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a> / <a href="#cp2">Contents, p. 2</a></p><hr><br><br> + +<h2><a name="section13">Appendix</a></h2><br> + +<h3><i>The Rape of the Lock</i>: First Edition</h3><br> + +<blockquote>Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos <br> +Sed juvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis.<br><br> + +<b>Mart</b>. </blockquote><br> +<br> +<h3>Canto I</h3><br> + +<table summary="Canto I" width="75%" cellspacing="50" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td width="90%">What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, <br> +What mighty quarrels rise from trivial things, <br> +I sing — This verse to C — l, Muse! is due: <br> +This, ev'n Belinda may vouchsafe to view: <br> +Slight is the subject, but not so the praise,<br> +If she inspire, and he approve my lays. <br><br> + +Say what strange motive, goddess! could compel<br> +A well-bred lord t' assault a gentle belle?<br> +O say what stranger cause, yet unexplored,<br> +Could make a gentle belle reject a lord?<br> +And dwells such rage in softest bosoms then,<br> +And lodge such daring souls in little men? <br><br> + +Sol through white curtains did his beams display,<br> +And ope'd those eyes which brighter shine than they,<br> +Shock just had giv'n himself the rousing shake,<br> +And nymphs prepared their chocolate to take;<br> +Thrice the wrought slipper knocked against the ground,<br> +And striking watches the tenth hour resound.<br> +Belinda rose, and midst attending dames,<br> +Launched on the bosom of the silver Thames:<br> +A train of well-dressed youths around her shone,<br> +And ev'ry eye was fixed on her alone:<br> +On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore<br> +Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore.<br> +Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose,<br> +Quick as her eyes, and as unfixed as those: <br> +Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; <br> +Oft she rejects, but never once offends. <br> +Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, <br> +And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.<br> +Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, <br> +Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide: <br> +If to her share some female errors fall, <br> +Look on her face, and you'll forgive 'em all. <br><br> + +This nymph, to the destruction of mankind,<br> +Nourished two locks, which graceful hung behind<br> +In equal curls, and well conspired to deck<br> +With shining ringlets her smooth iv'ry neck.<br> +Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains,<br> +And mighty hearts are held in slender chains.<br> +With hairy springes we the birds betray,<br> +Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey,<br> +Fair tresses man's imperial race insnare,<br> +And beauty draws us with a single hair. <br><br> + +Th' adventurous baron the bright locks admired;<br> +He saw, he wished, and to the prize aspired.<br> +Resolved to win, he meditates the way,<br> +By force to ravish, or by fraud betray;<br> +For when success a lover's toil attends,<br> +Few ask if fraud or force attained his ends.<br><br> + +For this, ere Phoebus rose, he had implored<br> +Propitious heav'n, and every pow'r adored,<br> +But chiefly Love — to Love an altar built,<br> +Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt.<br> +There lay the sword-knot Sylvia's hands had sewn<br> +With Flavia's busk that oft had wrapped his own:<br> +A fan, a garter, half a pair of gloves,<br> +And all the trophies of his former loves. <br> +With tender billets-doux he lights the pire, <br> +And breathes three am'rous sighs to raise the fire.<br> +Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes <br> +Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize: <br> +The pow'rs gave ear, and granted half his pray'r, <br> +The rest the winds dispersed in empty air. <br><br> + +Close by those meads, for ever crowned with flow'rs,<br> +Where Thames with pride surveys his rising tow'rs,<br> +There stands a structure of majestic frame,<br> +Which from the neighb'ring Hampton takes its name.<br> +Here Britain's statesmen oft the fall foredoom<br> +Of foreign tyrants, and of nymphs at home;<br> +Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey,<br> +Dost sometimes counsel take — and sometimes tea. <br><br> + +Hither our nymphs and heroes did resort,<br> +To taste awhile the pleasures of a court;<br> +In various talk the cheerful hours they passed,<br> +Of who was bit, or who capotted last;<br> +This speaks the glory of the British queen,<br> +And that describes a charming Indian screen;<br> +A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes;<br> +At ev'ry word a reputation dies.<br> +Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause of chat,<br> +With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that. <br><br> + +Now when, declining from the noon of day,<br> +The sun obliquely shoots his burning ray;<br> +When hungry judges soon the sentence sign,<br> +And wretches hang that jurymen may dine;<br> +When merchants from th' Exchange return in peace,<br> +And the long labours of the toilet cease,<br> +The board's with cups and spoons, alternate, crowned,<br> +The berries crackle, and the mill turns round;<br> +On shining altars of Japan they raise <br> +The silver lamp, and fiery spirits blaze: <br> +From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide, <br> +While China's earth receives the smoking tide. <br> +At once they gratify their smell and taste,<br> +While frequent cups prolong the rich repast. <br> +Coffee (which makes the politician wise, <br> +And see through all things with his half-shut eyes) <br> +Sent up in vapours to the baron's brain <br> +New stratagems, the radiant lock to gain.<br> +Ah cease, rash youth! desist ere't is too late, <br> +Fear the just gods, and think of Scylla's fate! <br> +Changed to a bird, and sent to flit in air, <br> +She dearly pays for Nisus' injured hair! <br><br> + +But when to mischief mortals bend their mind,<br> +How soon fit instruments of ill they find!<br> +Just then, Clarissa drew with tempting grace<br> +A two-edged weapon from her shining case:<br> +So ladies, in romance, assist their knight,<br> +Present the spear, and arm him for the fight;<br> +He takes the gift with rev'rence, and extends<br> +The little engine on his fingers' ends;<br> +This just behind Belinda's neck he spread,<br> +As o'er the fragrant steams she bends her head.<br> +He first expands the glitt'ring forfex wide<br> +T' enclose the lock; then joins it, to divide;<br> +One fatal stroke the sacred hair does sever<br> +From the fair head, for ever, and for ever! <br><br> + +The living fires come flashing from her eyes,<br> +And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies.<br> +Not louder shrieks by dames to heav'n are cast,<br> +When husbands die, or lapdogs breathe their last;<br> +Or when rich china vessels, fall'n from high,<br> +In glitt'ring dust and painted fragments lie! <br><br> + +"Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine,"<br> +The victor cried, "the glorious prize is mine!<br> +While fish in streams, or birds delight in air,<br> +Or in a coach and six the British fair,<br> +As long as Atalantis shall be read, <br> +Or the small pillow grace a lady's bed,<br> +While visits shall be paid on solemn days,<br> +When num'rous wax-lights in bright order blaze,<br> +While nymphs take treats, or assignations give,<br> +So long my honour, name, and praise shall live!"<br><br> + +What time would spare, from steel receives its date,<br> +And monuments, like men, submit to fate!<br> +Steel did the labour of the gods destroy,<br> +And strike to dust th' aspiring tow'rs of Troy;<br> +Steel could the works of mortal pride confound,<br> +And hew triumphal arches to the ground.<br> +What wonder then, fair nymph! thy hairs should feel<br> +The conqu'ring force of unresisted steel? </td> +<td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +45<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +55<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> + +<hr width="25%" align="left"><br> + +<h3>Canto II</h3><br> + +<table summary="Canto II" width="75%" cellspacing="50" cellpadding="1"> +<tr align="left" valign="top"> +<td width="90%">But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppressed, <br> +And secret passions laboured in her breast. <br> +Not youthful kings in battle seized alive, <br> +Not scornful virgins who their charms survive, <br> +Not ardent lover robbed of all his bliss,<br> +Not ancient lady when refused a kiss, <br> +Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die, <br> +Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinned awry, <br> +E'er felt such rage, resentment, and despair, <br> +As thou, sad virgin! for thy ravished hair.<br><br> + +While her racked soul repose and peace requires,<br> +The fierce Thalestris fans the rising fires. <br> +"O wretched maid!" she spread her hands, and cried,<br> +(And Hampton's echoes, "Wretched maid!" replied)<br> +"Was it for this you took such constant care<br> +Combs, bodkins, leads, pomatums to prepare?<br> +For this your locks in paper durance bound?<br> +For this with tort'ring irons wreathed around?<br> +Oh had the youth been but content to seize<br> +Hairs less in sight, or any hairs but these!<br> +Gods! shall the ravisher display this hair,<br> +While the fops envy, and the ladies stare!<br> +Honour forbid! at whose unrivalled shrine<br> +Ease, pleasure, virtue, all, our sex resign.<br> +Methinks already I your tears survey,<br> +Already hear the horrid things they say,<br> +Already see you a degraded toast,<br> +And all your honour in a whisper lost!<br> +How shall I, then, your helpless fame defend?<br> +'T will then be infamy to seem your friend!<br> +And shall this prize, th' inestimable prize,<br> +Exposed through crystal to the gazing eyes,<br> +And heightened by the diamond's circling rays,<br> +On that rapacious hand for ever blaze? <br> +Sooner shall grass in Hyde Park Circus grow,<br> +And wits take lodgings in the sound of Bow;<br> +Sooner let earth, air, sea, to chaos fall,<br> +Men, monkeys, lapdogs, parrots, perish all!"<br><br> + +She said; then raging to Sir Plume repairs,<br> +And bids her beau demand the precious hairs:<br> +Sir Plume, of amber snuff-box justly vain,<br> +And the nice conduct of a clouded cane,<br> +With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face,<br> +He first the snuff-box opened, then the case,<br> +And thus broke out — "My lord, why, what the devil!<br> +Zounds! damn the lock! 'fore Gad, you must be civil!<br> +Plague on't! 't is past a jest — nay, prithee, pox!<br> +Give her the hair." — He spoke, and rapped his box. <br><br> + +"It grieves me much," replied the peer again,<br> +"Who speaks so well should ever speak in vain:<br> +But by this lock, this sacred lock, I swear,<br> +(Which never more shall join its parted hair;<br> +Which never more its honours shall renew,<br> +Clipped from the lovely head where once it grew)<br> +That, while my nostrils draw the vital air,<br> +This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear."<br> +He spoke, and speaking, in proud triumph spread<br> +The long-contended honours of her head. <br><br> + +But see! the nymph in sorrow's pomp appears,<br> +Her eyes half-languishing, half drowned in tears;<br> +Now livid pale her cheeks, now glowing red<br> +On her heaved bosom hung her drooping head,<br> +Which with a sigh she raised, and thus she said:<br> +"For ever cursed be this detested day, <br> +Which snatched my best, my fav'rite curl away;<br> +Happy! ah ten times happy had I been,<br> +If Hampton Court these eyes had never seen!<br> +Yet am not I the first mistaken maid,<br> +By love of courts to num'rous ills betrayed.<br> +O had I rather unadmired remained<br> +In some lone isle, or distant northern land,<br> +Where the gilt chariot never marked the way,<br> +Where none learn ombre, none e'er taste bohea!<br> +There kept my charms concealed from mortal eye,<br> +Like roses, that in deserts bloom and die.<br> +What moved my mind with youthful lords to roam?<br> +O had I stayed, and said my pray'rs at home!<br> +'Twas this the morning omens did foretell, <br> +Thrice from my trembling hand the patchbox fell; <br> +The tott'ring china shook without a wind,<br> +Nay, Poll sat mute, and Shock was most unkind! <br> +See the poor remnants of this slighted hair! <br> +My hands shall rend what ev'n thy own did spare: <br> +This in two sable ringlets taught to break, <br> +Once gave new beauties to the snowy neck;<br> +The sister-lock now sits uncouth, alone, <br> +And in its fellow's fate foresees its own; <br> +Uncurled it hangs, the fatal shears demands, <br> +And tempts once more thy sacrilegious hands."<br><br> + +She said: the pitying audience melt in tears;<br> +But fate and Jove had stopped the baron's ears.<br> +In vain Thalestris with reproach assails,<br> +For who can move when fair Belinda fails?<br> +Not half so fixed the Trojan could remain,<br> +While Anna begged and Dido raged in vain.<br> +"To arms, to arms!" the bold Thalestris cries,<br> +And swift as lightning to the combat flies.<br> +All side in parties, and begin th' attack;<br> +Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack;<br> +Heroes' and heroines' shouts confus'dly rise,<br> +And bass and treble voices strike the skies;<br> +No common weapons in their hands are found,<br> +Like gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound. <br><br> + +So when bold Homer makes the gods engage,<br> +And heav'nly breasts with human passions rage,<br> +'Gainst Pallas, Mars; Latona, Hermes arms,<br> +And all Olympus rings with loud alarms;<br> +Jove's thunder roars, heav'n trembles all around,<br> +Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound:<br> +Earth shakes her nodding tow'rs, the ground gives way,<br> +And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day! <br><br> + +While through the press enraged Thalestris flies,<br> +And scatters death around from both her eyes,<br> +A beau and witling perished in the throng,<br> +One died in metaphor, and one in song.<br> +"O cruel nymph; a living death I bear,"<br> +Cried Dapperwit, and sunk beside his chair.<br> +A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards cast,<br> +"Those eyes are made so killing" — was his last.<br> +Thus on Mĉander's flow'ry margin lies<br> +Th' expiring swan, and as he sings he dies. <br><br> + +As bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down,<br> +Chloe stepped in, and killed him with a frown;<br> +She smiled to see the doughty hero slain,<br> +But at her smile the beau revived again.<br><br> + +Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air,<br> +Weighs the men's wits against the lady's hair;<br> +The doubtful beam long nods from side to side;<br> +At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside. <br><br> + +See fierce Belinda on the baron flies,<br> +With more than usual lightning in her eyes:<br> +Nor feared the chief th' unequal fight to try,<br> +Who sought no more than on his foe to die.<br> +But this bold lord, with manly strength endued,<br> +She with one finger and a thumb subdued:<br> +Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew,<br> +A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw;<br> +Sudden, with starting tears each eye o'erflows,<br> +And the high dome re-echoes to his nose. <br><br> + +"Now meet thy fate," th' incensed virago cried,<br> +And drew a deadly bodkin from her side. <br><br> + +"Boast not my fall," he said, "insulting foe!<br> +Thou by some other shalt be laid as low;<br> +Nor think to die dejects my lofty mind; <br> +All that I dread is leaving you behind!<br> +Rather than so, ah let me still survive,<br> +And still burn on, in Cupid's flames, alive."<br><br> + +"Restore the lock!" she cries; and all around<br> +"Restore the lock!" the vaulted roofs rebound.<br> +Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain<br> +Roared for the handkerchief that caused his pain.<br> +But see how oft ambitious aims are crossed,<br> +And chiefs contend till all the prize is lost!<br> +The lock, obtained with guilt, and kept with pain,<br> +In ev'ry place is sought, but sought in vain:<br> +With such a prize no mortal must be blessed,<br> +So heav'n decrees! with heav'n who can contest?<br> +Some thought it mounted to the lunar sphere,<br> +Since all that man e'er lost is treasured there.<br> +There heroes' wits are kept in pond'rous vases,<br> +And beaux' in snuff-boxes and tweezer-cases.<br> +There broken vows, and death-bed alms are found,<br> +And lovers' hearts with ends of ribbon bound,<br> +The courtier's promises, and sick man's pray'rs,<br> +The smiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs,<br> +Cages for gnats, and chains to yoke a flea,<br> +Dried butterflies, and tomes of casuistry. <br><br> + +But trust the muse — she saw it upward rise,<br> +Though marked by none but quick poetic eyes:<br> +(Thus Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew,<br> +To Proculus alone confessed in view)<br> +A sudden star, it shot through liquid air,<br> +And drew behind a radiant trail of hair.<br> +Not Berenice's locks first rose so bright, <br> +The skies bespangling with dishevelled light.<br> +(This the beau monde shall from the Mall survey,<br> +(As through the moonlight shade they nightly stray,<br> +(And hail with music its propitious ray;<br> +This Partridge soon shall view in cloudless skies, <br> +When next he looks through Galileo's eyes;<br> +And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom <br> +The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome. <br><br> + +Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravished hair,<br> +Which adds new glory to the shining sphere!<br> +Not all the tresses that fair head can boast,<br> +Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost.<br> +For after all the murders of your eye,<br> +When, after millions slain, yourself shall die;<br> +When those fair suns shall set, as set they must,<br> +And all those tresses shall be laid in dust,<br> +This lock the muse shall consecrate to fame,<br> +And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name.</td> +<td><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +5<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +10<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +15<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +20<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +25<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +30<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +35<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +40<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +45<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +50<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +55<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +60<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +65<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +70<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +75<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +80<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +85<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +90<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +95<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +100<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +105<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +110<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +115<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +120<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +125<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> +<br> + +<br> +130<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +135<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +140<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +145<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +150<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +155<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +160<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +165<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +170<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +175<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +180<br> +<br> +<br> +<br><br> + +<br> +185<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +190<br> +<br> +<br></td> +</tr> +</table><br> + + +<br> +<p><a href="#toc">Contents</a> / <a href="#cp2">Contents, p. 2</a></p><hr><br><br> + +<br> +<br> +<b><i>end of text</i></b> +<br> +<br> +<hr><br> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rape of the Lock and Other Poems +by Alexander Pope + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAPE OF THE LOCK AND OTHER *** + +This file should be named 8rplk10h.htm or 8rplk10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8rplk11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8rplk10ah.htm + +Produced by Clytie Siddall, Charles Aldarondo, Tiffany Vergon +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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