.yp J ^^^a yl</^ (UrtAy (/f^jur ^^ <^y f-^i^
 
 AN 
 
 ESS AY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 GENIUS AND WRITINGS 
 
 OF 
 
 POPE. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 By JOSEPH TVARTON, D. D. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 THE FIFTH EDITION, CORRECTED. 
 
 To which is now added, 
 
 AN INDEX. 
 
 Satyra quidem tota nostra est : in qua primus insignem laudem adeptus est 
 Lucilius ; qui quosdam ita deditos sibi aJhuc habet amatores, ut eum, non 
 ejusdem modo operis autoribus, sed omnibus poetis, praeferre non dubitent. 
 
 QuiNTILIAN. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed by Thomas Maiden, Sherbourn-Lane, Lombard-Street, 
 
 FOR W. J. AND J. RICHARDSON; OTRIDCE AND SON; J. WALKER; 
 
 CUTHELL AND MARTIN; R. FAULDER; R, LEA; OGILVY AND SON; 
 
 J. NUNN ; E. JEFFERY; LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AND CO. LONGMAN, 
 
 HURST, REES, AND ORME ; CADELL AND DAVIES ; J. AND A. ARCH; 
 
 J. ASPBRNE; AND VERNOR, HOOD, AND SHARPS. 
 
 1806.
 
 TO THE 
 
 REV. DR. YOUNG, 
 
 RECTOR OF TFELIVYN; 
 
 IN 
 
 HERTFORDSHIRE. 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 Jl ERMIT me to break into your retirement, 
 the refidence of virtue and literature, and to 
 trouble you with a few reflexions on the merits 
 and real charafter of an admired Author, and 
 on other collateral fubje6ls of criticifm, that will 
 naturally arife in the courfe of fuch an enquiry. 
 No love of fmgularity, no affeftation of para- 
 doxical opinions, gave rife to the following 
 ^Work. I revere the memory of Pope, I re- 
 ^ fpeft and honour his abilities ; but I do not 
 y^ think him at the head of his profefTion. In 
 other words, in that fpecies of poetry wherein
 
 11 DEDICATION". 
 
 Pope excelled, he is fuperior to all mankind : 
 and I only fay, that this fpecies of poetry is 
 not the moll: excellent one of the art. 
 
 We do not, it (liould feem, fufficiently at- 
 tend to the difference there is betwixt a man 
 
 OF WIT, a MAN OF SENSE, and a TRUE POET. 
 
 Donne and Swift w^ere undoubtedly men of 
 w4t, and men oi fenfe : but what traces have 
 they left of pure poetry? It is remark- 
 able, that Dryden fays of Donne, " He was the 
 greateft wit, though not the greateft poet, of 
 this nation. Fontenelle and La Motte are en- 
 titled to the former character ; but what can 
 they urge to gain the latter ? Which of thefe 
 charafters is the mod valuable and ufeful, is 
 entirely out of the queflion : all I plead for, 
 is, to have their feveral provinces kept diftinft 
 from each other ; and to imprefs on the reader, 
 that a clear head, and acute underflanding, are 
 not fuihcient, alone, to make a poet; that 
 the moft folid obfervations on human life, ex- 
 preffed with the utmoll elegance and brevity, 
 are morality, and not poetry; that the 
 Epistles of Boileau in rhyme, are no more 
 poetical, than the Characters of La Bruyere 
 
 in
 
 DEDICATION. Ill 
 
 in Prose; and that.it is a creative and glow- 
 ing IMAGINATION, " accr fpiritus ac vis," and 
 that alone, that can ftamp a vrriter with this ex- 
 alted and very uncommon chara^er, which fo 
 few poflefs, and of which fo few can properly 
 judge. 
 
 For one perfon who can adequately relifli 
 and enjoy a work of imagination, twenty are 
 to be found who can tafle, and judge of, ob- 
 fervations on familiar life, and the manners of 
 the age. The Satires of Ariofto are more read 
 than the Orlando Furiofo, or even Dante. Are 
 there fo many cordial admirers of Spenfer and 
 Milton, as of Hudibras, if we ftrike out of 
 the number of thefe fuppofed admirers, thofe 
 who appear fuch out of fafhion, and not of 
 feeling ? Swift's Rhapfody on Poetry is far 
 more popular than Akenfide's noble Ode to 
 Lord Huntingdon. The Epistles on the 
 Charafters of Men and Women, and your 
 fprightly Satires, my good friend, are more 
 frequently perufed, and quoted, than L'Alle- 
 gro and II Penferofo of Milton. Had you 
 written only thefe Satires, you would, indeed, 
 have gained the title of a man of wit, and a 
 
 A 2 man
 
 IV DEDICATION. 
 
 man of fenfe ; but, I am confident, would not 
 infifl; on being denominated a poet merely 
 on their account. 
 
 NON SATIS EST PURtS VERSUM PERSCRIBERE VERBIS. 
 
 It is amazing this matter (hould ever have 
 been miftaken, when Horace has taken par- 
 ticular and repeated pains to fettle and adjuft 
 the opinion in queftion. He has more than 
 once difclaimed all right and title to the name of 
 POET on the fcore of his ethic and fatiric 
 pieces. 
 
 NeQUE ENIM CONCLUDERE VERSUM 
 
 DlXERTS ESSE SATIS— 
 
 are lines often repeated, but whofe meaning is 
 not extended and weighed as it ought to be. 
 Nothing can be more judicious than the me- 
 thod he prefcribes, of trying whether any com- 
 pofition be effentially poetical or not ; which 
 is, to drop entirely the meafures and numbers, 
 and tranfpofe and invert the order of the- 
 
 words :
 
 DEDICATION. V 
 
 words : and in this unadorned manner to pe- 
 rufe the pafTage. If there be really in it a true 
 poetical fpirit, all your inverfions and tranfpo- 
 fitions will not difguife and extinguifh it ; but 
 it will retain its luftre, like a diamond unfet, 
 and thrown back into the rubbifh of the mine. 
 Let us make a little experiment on the follow- 
 ing well-known lines : " Yes, you defpife the 
 man that is conjined to books, who rails at hu- 
 mankind from his Jludy ; though what he 
 learns, he /peaks ; and may, perhaps, advance 
 fome general maxims, or may be right hy chance* 
 The coxcomb bird, fo grave and Jo talkative, 
 that cries whore, knave, and cuckold, from his 
 cage, though he rightly call many a paffenger, 
 you hold him no philofopher. And yet, fuck is 
 the fate of all extremes, men may be read too 
 much, as well as books. We grow more par- 
 tial, for the fake of the obferver, to obferva- 
 tions which we ourf elves make ; lefs fo to writ- 
 ten xoifdom, becaufe another s. Maxims are 
 drawn from notions, and thofe from guefs" 
 What {hall we fay of this pafTage ? Why, that 
 it is mod: excellent fenfe, butjufl as poetical as 
 the •■ Qui fit Maecenas" of the author who re- 
 commends this method of trial. Take ten 
 lines of the Iliad, Paradife Loft, or even of 
 
 the
 
 VI DEDICATION. 
 
 the Georgics of Virgil, and fee whether, by 
 any procefs of critical chemiftry, you can 
 lower and reduce them to the tamenefs of 
 profe. You will find that they will appear 
 like Ulyffes in his difguife of rags, dill a hero, 
 though lodged in the cottage of the herdfman 
 Eumaeus. 
 
 v^'ihe fublime and the pathetic are the two 
 chief nerves of all genuine poefy. What is 
 there tranfcendently fublime or pathetic in 
 Pope? In his Works there is, indeed, "nihil 
 inane, nihil arceflitum ; puro tamen fonti quam 
 magno flumini proprior;" as the excellent 
 Quintilian remarks of Lyfias. And becaufe X 
 am, perhaps, unwiUing to fpeak out in plain 
 Englilh, I will adopt the following paffage of 
 Voltaire, which, in my opinion, as exaftly 
 characlerizes Pope as it does his model Boi- 
 leau, for whom it was originally defigned : 
 " Incapable peut-etre du sublime qui 
 
 ELEVE l'AiME, ET DU SENTIMENT QUI l'aT- 
 TENDRIT, MAIS FAIT POUR ECLAIRER CEUX 
 A QUI LA NATURE ACCORDA l'uN ET l'aU- 
 TRE, LABORIEUX, SEVERE, PRECIS, PUR, 
 1 HARMONIEtJXj
 
 DEDICATION. Vll 
 
 HARMONIEUX, IL DEVINT, ENFIN, LE POETE 
 DE LA RaISON." 
 
 Our Englifli Poets may, I think, be dif- 
 pofed in four different claffes and degrees. In 
 the firft clafs I would place our only three 
 fublime and pathetic poets; Spenser, Shake- 
 speare, Milton. In the fecond clafs fhould 
 be ranked fuch as poffeffed the true poetical 
 genius, in a more moderate degree, but who 
 had noble talents for moral, ethical, and pa- 
 negyrical poefy. At the head of thefe are 
 Dryden, Prior, Addison, Cowley, Wal- 
 ler, Garth, Fenton, Gay, Denham, 
 Parnell. In the third clafs may be placed 
 men of wit, of elegant tafte, and lively fancy 
 in defcribing familiar life, though not the 
 higher fcenes of poetry. Here may be num- 
 bered, Butler, Swift, Rochester, Donne, 
 Dorset, Oldham. In the fourth clafs, the 
 mere verfifiers, however fmooth and melliflu- 
 ous fome of them may be thought, fliould be 
 difpofed. Such as Pitt, Sandys, Fairfax, 
 ^ROOME, Buckingham, Lansdown. This 
 enumeration is not intended as a complete 
 catalogue of writers, and in their proper order, 
 
 but
 
 Vlll DEDICATION. 
 
 but only to mark out briefly the different fpe- 
 cies of our celebrated authors. In which of 
 thefe claffes Pope deferves to be placed, the 
 following Work is intended to determine. 
 
 I am. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your offeEiionate 
 
 1756. 
 
 And faithful Servant,
 
 (^^ f^x 
 
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 AN 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 GEJ¥IUS AWB WRITINGS 
 
 or 
 
 POPE. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 OF THE PASTORALS, AND, THE MESSIAH, 
 AN ECLOGUE. 
 
 X RINCES and Authors are seldom spoken of, 
 during their hves, with justice and impartiality. 
 Admiration and Envy, their constant attendants, 
 like two unskilful artists, are apt to overcharge 
 their pieces with too great a quantity of light or 
 of shade ; and are disqualified happily to hit upon 
 that middle colour, that mixture of error and 
 VOL. I, B excellence,
 
 2 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 , ^excellence, which alone renders every representa- 
 . , ,tipU' of man; jiist and natural. This, perhaps, 
 may be one reason, among others, why we have 
 never yet seen a fair and candid criticism on the 
 character and merits of our last great poet, 
 Mr. Pope. I have therefore thought, that it 
 would be no unpleasing amusement, or uninstruc- 
 tive employment, to examine at large, without 
 blind panegyric, or petulant invective, the writ- 
 . ingsof this English Classic, in the order in which 
 they are arranged in the nine volumes of the ele- 
 gant edition of Dr. Warburton. As I shall nei- 
 ther censure nor commend, without alleging the 
 "^reason on which my opinion is founded, I shall 
 be entirely unmoved at the imputation of malig- 
 nity, or the clamours of popular prejudice. 
 
 It is somewhat strange, that in the pastorals of 
 a young poet, there should not be found a single 
 rural image that is new : but this, I am afraid, is 
 */ the case in the Pastorals before us. The ideas 
 of Theocritus, Virgil, and Spenser, are, indeed, 
 here exhibited in language equally mellifluous 
 and pure ; but the descriptions and sentiments 
 are trite and common. 
 
 That
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 
 
 That the design of pastoral poesy is, to repre- 
 sent the undisturbed felicity of the golden age, 
 is an empty notion, which, though supported by 
 a Rapin and a Fontenelle,* I think, all rational 
 critics have agreed to extirpate and explode. But 
 I do not remember, that even these, or any cri- 
 tics, have remarked the circumstance that gave 
 origin to the opinion, that any golden age was 
 intended. Theocritus, the father and the model l^'-^^'^ 
 of this enchanting species of composition, lived 
 and wrote in Sicily. The climate of Sicily was 
 delicious, and the face of the country various and 
 beautiful : its vallies and its precipices, its grottos 
 and cascades, were sweetly interchanged, 
 and its flowers and fruits were lavish and luscious. 
 The poet described what he saw and felt ; and 
 had no need to have recourse to those artificial 
 assemblages of pleasing objects, which are not to 
 
 B 2 be 
 
 * In the dissertation annexed to his Pastorals, in which he 
 made his first attempt to depreciate the ancients. Among his 
 papers, after his death, was found a discourse on the Greek 
 Tragedians; which Trublet, his relation, gave to Diderot, that 
 he might insert it in the Encyclopedic; which, however, Diderot 
 refused to do, because, he said, he could not possibly insert in 
 that work, a treatise that tended to prove, that Eschylus was a 
 madman.
 
 4 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 be found in nature. The figs and the honey, 
 which he assigns* as a reward to a victorious 
 shepherd, were in themselves exquisite, and are 
 therefore assigned with great propriety : and the 
 beauties of that luxurious landscape, so richly 
 and circumstantially delineated in the close of 
 the seventh idyllium, where all things smelt of 
 summer, and smelt of autumn, 
 
 riavT uaoev i^ipsos fjuxXx zyiov®^, uavi o l'jiu)fris,\ 
 
 were present and real. Succeeding writers, sup- 
 posing these beauties too great and abundant to 
 be real, referred them to the fictitious and imagi- 
 nary scenes of a golden age. 
 
 A mixture of British and Grecian ideas may 
 justly be deemed a blemish in the Pastorals of 
 Pope : and propriety is certainly violated, when 
 he couples Pactolus with Thames, and Windsor 
 with Hybla. Complaints of immoderate hear, 
 and wishes to be conveyed to cooling caverns, 
 when uttered by the inhabitants of Greece, have 
 a decorum and consistenc}', which they totally 
 
 lose 
 
 * Idyll, i. ver. 146. f Ver. 133.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 5 
 
 lose in the character of a British shepherd : and 
 Theocritus, during the ardors of Sirius, must 
 have heard the murmurings of a hrook, and the 
 whispers of a pine,* with more home-felt plea- 
 sure, than Pope f could possibly experience upon 
 the same occasion. We can never completely 
 relish, or adequately understand, any author, 
 especially any Ancient, except we constantly 
 keep in our eye, his climate, his country, and 
 his age. Pope himself informs us, in a note, 
 that he judiciously omitted the following verse, 
 
 And listening wolves grow milder as they hear,! 
 
 on account of the absurdity, which Spenser 
 overlooked, of introducing wolves into England. 
 But on this principle, M'hich is certainly a just 
 one, may it not be asked, why he should speak, 
 the scene lying in Windsor- Forest, of the sultry 
 Siiiius,§ of the GRATEFUL CLUSTERS of g7'apes,\\ 
 of a pipe of t^eeds,^ the antique fistula, of thank- 
 hig Ceres Jor a plentiful harvest** of the sacrifice 
 B 3 of 
 
 * Idyll, i. ver. I. f Past. iv. ver. 1. | Past. ii. 
 
 § Past. ii. ver. 21. || Past. iii. ver. 74. ^ Past. ii. ver. 41, 
 
 ■** Ibid. ver. 66.
 
 6 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 of lambs* with many other instances that might 
 be adduced to this purpose. That Pope, how- 
 ever, was sensible of the importance of adapting 
 images to the scene of action, is obvious from 
 the following example of his judgment ; for, in 
 translating, 
 
 Audiit EuROTASj jussitque ediscere Lacros, 
 
 he has dexterously dropt the laurels appropriated 
 to Eurotas, as he is speaking of the river Thames, 
 and has rendered it, 
 
 Thames heard tlie numbers, as he flow'd along, 
 Andsbade his ivillows learn the moving song.f 
 
 In the passages which Pope has imitated from 
 Theocritus, and from his Latin translator, Virgil, 
 he has merited but little applause. It may not be 
 unentertaining to see, how coldly and unpoeti- 
 cally Pope has copied the subsequent appeal to 
 the nymphs on the death of Daphnis, in compa- 
 rison of Milton on Lycidas, one of his juvenile, 
 but one of his most exquisite pieces. 
 
 * Past. iv. ver. 81. -j- Ibid. ver. H.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 7 
 
 Ux ntoK xf rjcT-S'' OKX Axipvis lTxx.flo ; -era iuO}ix, Ny/x^«< ; 
 
 H Kxlx ri'^HE/W X.XXX Ttl/.TTZX, ft KXTX YllVOU J 
 
 Of yxp 0*) Z7o\xfxoio [/.i^xv foov h^ci' Avxiru, 
 Ovo Ailixs (TKOTTixv, «o Ax/0®' lepoy voaip.*' 
 
 Where stray ye, Muses, in what lawn or grove, 
 Wliile your Alexis pines in hopeless lore ? 
 In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides. 
 Or else where Cam his winding vales divides.f 
 
 Where were ye, nymphs, when the remorseless deep 
 
 Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas? 
 
 For neither were ye playing on the steep 
 
 Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie; 
 
 Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high. 
 
 Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream. t 
 
 The mention of places remarkably romantic, 
 the supposed habitation of Druids, bards, and 
 M'izards, is far more pleasing to the imagination, 
 than the obvious introduction of Cam and Isis, 
 as seats of the Muses. 
 
 A shepherd in Theocritus wishes, with much 
 
 tenderness and elegance, both which must suffer 
 
 in a literal translation, " Would I could become 
 
 a murmuring bee, fly into your grotto, and be 
 
 B 4 permitted 
 
 * Theocritus, Idyll, i. 60. f Pope, Past. ii. 23. 
 
 t i^'IlLTON.
 
 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 permitted to creep among the leaves of ivy and 
 fern that compose the chaplet which adorns your 
 head."* Pope has thus altered this imag-e : 
 
 *&' 
 
 Oh ! were I made, by some transforming pow'r. 
 The captive bird that sings within thy bow'r ! 
 Then might my voice thy list'ning ears employ; 
 And I those kisses he receives enjoy. f 
 
 On three accounts the former image is preferable 
 to the latter : for the pastoral wildness, the deli- 
 cacy, and the uncommonness of the thought. 
 I cannot forbear adding, that the riddle of the 
 Royal Oak, in the first Pastoral, invented in imi- 
 tation of the VirgiHan enigmas in the third 
 eclogue, savours of pun, and puerile conceit. 
 
 Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil appears 
 A wond'rous tree, that sacred monarchs bears ? 
 
 With what propriety could the tree, whose shade 
 
 protected the king, be said to be prolific of 
 
 princes ? 
 
 That 
 
 A ^ofxkevax ^iXfjax, xoti is Tcov ocilpoi Ixoi/jixy, 
 Ten y.n7(T0)) Ztx^vSf y.xi rxi iflspiv oi rv WKOtcr^yi, 
 
 Idyll, iii. 12, 
 t Past. ii. 45. 
 
 I
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. Q 
 
 That Pope has not e([ualled Theocritus, will, 
 indeed, appear less surprising, if we reflect, that 
 no original writer ever remained so unrivalled by 
 succeeding copyists as this Sicilian master. 
 
 If it should be objected, that the barrenness 
 of invention, imputed to Pope from a view of 
 his Pastorals, is equall}' imputable to the Bu- 
 colics of Virgil, it may be answered, that, what- 
 ever may be determined of the rest, yet the first 
 
 r.' and last Eclogues of Virgil, are indisputable 
 proofs of true genius, and power of fancy. The 
 influence of Mar on the tranquillity of rural life, 
 rendered the subject of the first new and inte- 
 resting: its composition is truly dramatic; and 
 the characters of its two shepherds are well sup- 
 ported, and happily contrasted : and the last has 
 
 ^ eScpressively painted the changeful resolutions, 
 the wild wishes, the passionate and abiupt excla- 
 mations, of a disappointed and despaiiii)g lover. 
 
 Upon the whole, the principal merit of the 
 Pastorals of Pope, consists in their correct 
 and musical versification ; musical, to a degree 
 of which rhvme could hardly be thougiit capa- 
 ble;
 
 iO ISSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 blc ; and in giving the first specimen of that har- 
 mony in English verse, which is now become in- 
 dispensably necessary, and which has so forcibly 
 and universally influenced the public ear, as to 
 jhave rendered every moderate rhymer melodious. 
 Pope lengthened the abruptness of Waller, and 
 at the same time contracted the exuberance of 
 Dryden. 
 
 I remember to have been informed, by an in- 
 timate friend of Pope, that he had once laid a 
 design of writing American Eclogues. The 
 subject would have been fruitftd of the most 
 poetical imagery ; and, if properly executed, 
 would have rescued the author from the accusa- 
 tion here urged, of having written Eclogues 
 without invention. 
 
 Our author, who had received an early tinc- 
 ture of religion, a reverence for which he pre- 
 served to the last, was, with justice, convinced, 
 that the Scriptures of God contained not only 
 the purest precepts of morality, but the most 
 elevated and sublime strokes of genuine poesy ; 
 strokes as much superior to any thing Heathenism 
 1 can
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 11 
 
 can produce, as is Jehovah to Jupiter. This is 
 the case more particularly in the exalted prophecy 
 of Isaiah, which Pope has so successfully versi- 
 fied in an Eclogue, that incontestably surpasses 
 the Pollio of Virgil : although, perhaps, the dig- 
 nity, the energy, and the simplicity, of the ori- 
 ginal, are in a few passages weakened and dimi- 
 nished b}^ florid epithets, and useless circumlo- 
 cutions. 
 
 See, Nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring. 
 With all the incense of the breathing spring,* 
 
 are lines which have too much prettiness, and too 
 modern an air. The judicious addition of cir- 
 cumstances and adjuncts, is what renders poes}'^ a 
 more hvely imitation of nature than prose. Pope 
 has been happy in introducing the following cir- 
 cumstance : the prophet says, " The parched 
 ground shall become a pool:" Our author ex- 
 presses this idea by saying, that the shepherd 
 
 — shall START amid the thirsty wild to hear 
 Kew falls of water murmuring in his ear.f 
 
 A striking 
 
 * Mess. v. 23. f v. 69.
 
 12 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 A striking example of a similar beauty may be 
 added from Thomson. Melisander, in tlie Tra- 
 gedy of Agamemnon, after telling us he was 
 conveyed in a vessel, at midnight, to the wildest 
 of the Cyclades, adds, when the pitiless mariners 
 had left him in that dreadful solitude, 
 
 — I never heard 
 
 A sound so dismal as their parting oars ! 
 
 v>^On the other hand, the propliet has been some- 
 times particular, when Pope has been only gene- 
 ral. *' Lift up thine eyes round about, and see ; 
 all they gather themselves together, they come to 
 
 thee: The multitude of Camels shall cover 
 
 thee: the Dromedaries of Midian and Ephah : 
 all they from Sheba shall come : they shall bring 
 gold and incense, and they sliall shew forth the 
 praises of the Lord. All the Flocks of Kedar 
 shall be gathered together unto thee ; the Rams of 
 Nebaioth shall minister unto thee."* In imitatins: 
 this passage, Pope has omitted the different beasts 
 that in so picturesque a manner characterize the 
 different countries which were to be gathered to- 
 
 gether 
 
 * Igaiah, c. Ix. v. 4, 6, 7,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 13 
 
 gether on this important event, and says only, 
 in undistinguishing terms, 
 
 See, barbarous nations at thy gates attend. 
 Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend : 
 See thy bright altars throng'd with prostrate kings. 
 And heap'd with products of Sabaean springs.* 
 
 As prosperity and happiness are described in 
 this Eclogue by a combination of the most plea- 
 sing and agreeable objects, so misery and destruc- 
 tion are as forcibly delineated in the same Isaiah, 
 by the circumstances of distress and desolation, 
 that were to attend the fall of that magnificent 
 city, Babylon : and the latter is, perhaps, a more 
 proper and interesting subject for poetry than the 
 former ; as such kinds of objects make the deep- 
 est impression on the mind; terror being a stronger 
 sensation than joy. Accordingly, a noble ode 
 on the destruction of Babylon, taken from the 
 fourteenth chapter of Isaiah, has been written by 
 Dr. Lowth ; whose Latin prelections on the in- 
 imitable poesy of the Hebrews, abounding in re- 
 marks 
 
 * Ver. 91.
 
 14 ESSAY ON THE GEN'IUS 
 
 marks entirely new, delivered in the purest and 
 most expressive language, are the richest augmen- 
 tation literature has lately received ; and from 
 which the following passage, gradually unfolding 
 the singular beauties of this prophecy, is here 
 closely, though faintly, translated, and inserted 
 as a pattern of just criticism. 
 
 The prophet having predicted the deliverance 
 of the Jews, and their return into their own 
 country from their rigorous Babylonish captivity, 
 instantly introduces them singing a triumphal 
 song on the fall of the king of Babylon ; a song 
 abounding in the most splendid images, and car- 
 ried on by perpetual, and those very beautiful, 
 personifications. The song begins with a sudden 
 exclamation of the Jews, expressing their joy and 
 wonder at the unexpected change of their con- 
 dition, and death of the tyrant. Earth with her 
 inhabitants triumphs ; the firs and cedars of Liba- 
 nus, under which images the allegoric style fre- 
 quently shadows the kings and princes of the 
 Gentiles, rejoice, and insult with reproaches, the 
 broken power of their most implacable foe. 
 
 She
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 15 
 
 She is at rest, the whole earth is quiet : they break forth 
 
 into singing. 
 Even the fiis rejoice at thee, the cedars of Libanus : 
 Since thou art laid low, no feller is come up against us. 
 
 There follows a most daring prosopopeia of Orcus, 
 or tlie infernal regions : he rouses his inhabitants, 
 the manes of princes, and the shades of departed 
 kings : immediately all of them arise from their 
 thrones, and wa.\k forward to meet the king of 
 Babylon : they insult and deride him, and gather 
 consolation from his calamity. 
 
 Art thou also made weak as we ? art thou made like unto 
 
 us ? 
 Is thy pride dashed down to Orcus, the noise of thy 
 
 liarps ? 
 The worm is strewn under thee, the earth-worm is thy 
 
 covering ! 
 
 The Jews are again represented speaking: they 
 most strongly exaggerate his remarkable fall, by 
 an exclamation formed in the manner of funeral 
 lamentations : 
 
 How art thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, son of the 
 
 morning ! 
 Thou art dashed down to the earth, thou that didst crush 
 
 the nations I 
 
 They
 
 ]6» ESSAY ON tHE GENIUS 
 
 The}^ next represent the king himself speaking, 
 and madly boasting of his unbounded power 
 whence the prodigiousness of his ruin is wonder- 
 fully aggravated. Nor is this enough ; a new 
 character is immediately formed : Those are in- 
 troduced who found the body of the king of 
 Babylon cast out ; they survey it closely and at- 
 tentively, and at last hardly know it. 
 
 Is this the man who made earth tremble, who shook the 
 
 kingdoms ? 
 Who made the worhl a solitude, and destroyed its cities ? 
 
 They reproach him with the loss of the common 
 rite of sepulture, which was deservedly denied to 
 him for his cruelty and oppression ; and curse his 
 name, his race, and posterity. The scene is 
 closed by a most awful speech of God himself, 
 menacing a perpetual extirpation to the king of 
 Babylon, to his descendants, and to his city ; 
 and confirming the immutability of his counsels, 
 by the ratification of a solemn oath. 
 
 What images, how various, how thick-sown, 
 how sublime, exalted with what energy, M'hat 
 expressions, figures, and sentiments, are here 
 
 accumulated
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 17 
 
 accumulated together ! We hear the Jews, the 
 cedars of Libanus, the shades of the departed 
 kings, the kings of Babylon, those who find his 
 body, and lastly, Jehovah himself, all speaking in 
 order; and behold them acting their several parts, 
 as it were, in a drama. One continued action is 
 carried on ; or rather a various and manifold 
 series of different actions is connected ; an excel- 
 lence more peculiarly appropriated to the sub- 
 limer ode, and consummately displayed in this 
 poem of Isaiah, which is the most perfect and 
 unexampled model among all the monuments of 
 antiquity. The personifications are frequent, but 
 not confused ; are bold, but not affected : a free, 
 lofty and truly divine spirit predominates through 
 the whole. Nor is any thing wanting to crown 
 and complete the sublimity of this ode with ab- 
 solute beauty ; nor can the Greek or Roman 
 poesy produce any thing that is similar, or se- 
 cond, to this ode."* 
 
 It cannot be thought strange, that he who 
 
 could so judiciously explain, could as poetically 
 
 VOL. I. C express, 
 
 * Praelect. xiii. pag. 12].
 
 rS ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 express, the ideas of Isaiah : the latter he has 
 performed in many instances ; but in none more 
 strikingly than in the following, which magnifi- 
 cently represents the Messiah treading the wine- 
 press in his anger ; and which an impartial judge, 
 not blinded by the charms of antiquity, will 
 think equal to many descriptions in Virgil, in 
 point of elegance and energy : 
 
 ■ llle patris vires indutus et irana 
 
 Dira rubens graditur, per stragem et fracta potentum 
 Agmina, prona solo; prostratisque hostlbus ultor 
 Insultat ; ceu prtela novo spuraantia musto 
 Exercens, salit attritas calcator in uvas, 
 Congestamque struem subigit : caede atra recenti 
 Crura madent, rorantque inspersae sanguine vestes.'* 
 
 SECTION 
 
 * Prcelect. vii. pag. 02.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. IQ 
 
 SECTION IL 
 
 OF WINDSOR-FOREST, AND LYRIC PIECES. 
 
 JJESCRIPTIVE Poetry was by no means the 
 shining- talent of Pope. This assertion may be 
 manifested by the few images introduced in the 
 poem before us, which are not equally applicable 
 to any place whatsoever. Rural beauty in gene- 
 ral, and not the peculiar beauties of the Forest 
 of Windsor, are here described. Nor are the sports 
 of setting, shooting, and fishing, included be- 
 tween the ninety-third and one hundred and forty^* 
 sixth verses, to which the reader is referred, at all 
 more appropriated. The stag-chase, that imme- 
 diately follows, although some of the lines are 
 incomparably good,* is not so full, so animated, 
 and so circumstantiated, as that of Somerville. 
 
 C 2 The 
 
 * See particularly, ver. 151.
 
 20 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 The digression that describes the demolition of 
 the thirty villages by William the Conqueror, is 
 well imagined ; particularly, 
 
 Round broken columns clasping ivy tvviii'd ; 
 O'er heaps of ruin stalk'd the stately hind ; 
 The fox obscene to gaping tombs retires. 
 And savage bowlings fill the sacred quires.* 
 
 Though I cannot forbear thinking, that the fol- 
 lowing picture of the ruins of Godstow Nunnery, 
 drawn, it should seem, on the spot, and \vorthy 
 the hand of Paul Brill, is by no means excelled 
 ^y the foregoing. 
 
 Qua nudo Rosamonda humilis sub culmine tecti 
 
 Marginis obscuri servat inane decus, 
 Rara intermissae circum vestigia molis, 
 
 Et sola in vacuo tramite porta labat : 
 Sacrae olim sedes riguae convallis in umbra, 
 
 Et veteri pavidum religione nemus. 
 Pallentes nocturna ciens campana sorores 
 
 Hinc matutinum seepe monebat avem ; 
 Illnc procul in media tardae caliginis hora 
 
 Prodidit arcanas arcta fenestra faces : 
 Nunc muscosa extant sparsim de cespite saxa. 
 
 Nunc muro avellunt germen agreste boves.f 
 
 Voltaire, 
 
 * Ver. 69. f Carmina Quadragts. Oxon, 1 748. pag. 3.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 21 
 
 Voltaire, in the first volume of his enter- 
 taining and lively Essay on General History, is 
 inclined to dispute the truth of this devastation 
 imputed to William the Conqueror, but for a rea- 
 son not very solid and conclusive. His objection 
 consists in the improbability that any man in his 
 senses, should think of depopulating a circuit of 
 fifteen leagues, and of sowing and planting a fo- 
 rest therein, when he was now sixty-three years 
 old, and could not reasonably hope to live long 
 enough to have the pleasure of hunting in it after 
 these trees were grown up. As if it were neces^ 
 sary to have only woods to hunt in, or that a 
 forest should be laid out (as are some in France) 
 in regular alleys and avenues of trees. All our 
 old historians, Florence of Worcester, William of 
 Malmesbury, Henry of Huntingdon, Simeon of 
 Durham, Hoveden, Brompton, and Walter Mapes, 
 join in charging William with this wanton act of 
 cruelty and oppression. And yet those who have 
 most accurately examined the New Forest, can 
 discover no mark or footstep of any other place 
 of habitation, parish, or church, or castle, than 
 what at present remains. There is, indeed, some 
 probability that the character of this Prince has 
 
 C 3 been
 
 22 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 been misrepresented, and his oppressions mag- 
 nified. The law of the cUrfeu-bell, by which 
 every inhabitant of England was obliged to ex- 
 tinguish his fire and candles at eight in the even- 
 ing, has been usually alleged as the institution 
 of a capricious tyrant. But this law, as Vol* 
 taire* rightly observes, was so far from being 
 absurdly tyrannical, that it was an ancient cus- 
 tom established among all the monasteries of the 
 north. Their houses were built of wood ; and 
 so cautious a method to prevent fire, was an ob- 
 ject worthy a prudent legislator. A more amia- 
 ble idea than Pope has here exhibited of the 
 Conqueror, is given us of the same Prince, by 
 that diligent enquirer into antiquity, the Pre- 
 sident Henault, in a passage that contains some 
 curious particulars, characteristical of the man- 
 ners of that age. " This Monarch protected 
 letters, at a time when books were so rare and 
 uncommon, that a Countess of Anjou gave for 
 a collection of homilies, two hundred sheep, 
 a measure of wheat, another of rye, a third of 
 millet, and a certain number of the skins of 
 
 martens." 
 
 * Abreg6 de I'Histoire Uuiverselle, &c. torn. i. pag, 280.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 23 
 
 martens."* But to return. The story offLo- 
 dona is prettily Ovidian ; but there is scarcely 
 a single incident in it, but what is borrowed 
 from some transformation of Ovid. The pic- 
 ture of a virtuous and learned man in retire- 
 ment J is highly finished, as the poet was here 
 in his proper element, recommending integrity "^ 
 and science. He has no where discovered more 
 poetic enthusiasm, than where, speaking of the 
 poets who hved or died near this spot, he 
 breaks out, 
 
 I seem through consecrated walks to rove, 
 I hear soft music die along the grove ; 
 Led by the sound, I roam from shade to shade. 
 By godlike poets venerable made.|J 
 
 The enumeration of the princes who were either 
 born or interred at Windsor is judiciously intro- 
 duced. Yet I have frequently wondered that 
 C 4 he 
 
 * Novel Abreg^ Chronologique de I'Histoire de France, 
 lom. i. page 126. To this useful and entertaining work Vol- 
 taire has often been deeply indebted, without confessing his 
 obligation. The last edition 4to. of this work was improved 
 with many important circumstances. Paris, 1752. Dedi- 
 cated to the Queen of France. 
 
 t Ver. 171. t Ver. 233. !i Ver. 207.
 
 24 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 he should have omitted the opportunity of de- 
 scribing at length its venerable ancient castle, 
 and the fruitful and extensive prospects * which 
 it commands. He slides with dexterity and ad- 
 dress from speaking of the miseries of the civil 
 war to the blessings of peace. f Old Father 
 Thames is raised, and acts, and speaks, with 
 becoming dignity. And though the trite and 
 obvious insignia of a river god are attributed, 
 yet there is one circumstance in his appearance 
 highly picturesque, 
 
 His sea-green mantle waving with the wind.t 
 
 The relievo upon his urn is also finely ima- 
 gined : 
 
 The figur'd streams in waves of silver roll'd^ 
 And on their banks Augusta rose in gold.|| 
 
 He 
 
 * The great improvements lately made near Windsor- 
 Lodge, by the Duke of Cumberland, particularly the magni- 
 ficent lake and cascade, highly deserve to be celebrated by 
 some future Pope; and would have contributed not a little 
 to the beauty of the poem now before us. 
 
 ■\ Ver. 324. % Ver. 350- 11 Vcr. 335,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 25 
 
 He has with exquisite skill selected only those 
 rivers as attendants of Thames, who are his sub- 
 jects, his tributaries, or neighbours. I cannot 
 resist the pleasure of transcribing the passage : 
 
 First the fam'd authors of his ancient name^ 
 The winding Isis, and the fruitful Tame : 
 The Kennet swift, for silver eels renown'd ; 
 The Loddon slow, with verdant osiers crown'd ; 
 Cole, whose dark streams his flowery islands lave; 
 And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave : 
 The blue transjDarent Vandalis appears ; 
 The gulphy Lee his sedgy tresses rears ; 
 The sullen Mole, that hides his diving flood ; 
 And silent Darent, stain'd with British blood.* 
 
 As I before produced a passage of Milton 
 which I thought superior to a similar one of 
 Pope, I shall, in order to preserve impartiahty, 
 produce another from Milton, in which I think 
 him inferior to the last quoted passage ; except, 
 perhaps, in the third line ; first remarking, that 
 both authors are much indebted to Spenser, f and 
 perhaps to Drayton. 
 
 Rivers, arise 1 whether thou be the son 
 
 Of utmost Tweed, or Ouse, or gulphy Dun ; 
 
 Or 
 
 * Ver. 339. f Fairy Queen, B. iv. C. 11.
 
 q6 essay ok the genius 
 
 Or Trent, who, like some earth-born giant, spreads 
 
 His thirty arms along th' indented meads ; 
 
 Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath ; 
 
 Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death ; 
 
 Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee, 
 
 Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee ; 
 
 Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name ; 
 
 Or Medway smooth, or royal-tower'd Thame.* 
 
 The poets, both ancient and modern, are ob- 
 liged to the rivers for some of their most striking 
 descriptions. The Tiber and the Nile of Virgil, 
 the Aufidus of Horace, the Sabrina of INIilton, 
 and the Scamander of Homer, are among their 
 capital figures. 
 
 - The influences and effects of peace, and its 
 consequence, a diffusive commerce, are expressed 
 by selecting such circumstances as are best 
 adapted to strike the imagination by lively 
 pictures ; the selection of which chiefly consti- 
 tutes true poetry. An historian, or prose- 
 writer, might say, '' Then shall the most dis- 
 tant nations croud into my port :" a poet sets 
 
 before 
 
 * At a vacation exercise, &c. V«r. 91. Milton was now 
 ajced but nineteen.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 27 
 
 before your eyes " the ships of uncouth form," 
 that shall arrive in the Thames.* 
 
 And /c'«;/jer'c? people croud my wealthy side ; 
 And naked youths, and painted chiefs, admire 
 Our speech, our colour, and our strange attire. 
 
 And the benevolence and poetry of the succeed- 
 ing M'ish are worthy admiration. 
 
 Till the freed Indians, in their native groves. 
 Reap their own fruits, and woo their sable loves ; 
 Peru once more a race of kings behold. 
 And other Mexicos be roof'd with gold.j- 
 
 The two epithets, native and sable, have pecu- 
 liar elegance and force ; and as Peru was parti- 
 cularly famous for its long succession of Incas, 
 and Mexico for many magnificent Avorks of 
 massy gold, there is great propriety in fixing 
 the restoration of the grandeur of each to 
 that object for which each was once so re- 
 markable. 
 
 The group of allegorical personages that 
 succeeds the last mentioned lines, are worthy 
 
 the 
 
 * Ver, 400. et scq, f \ er. 409.
 
 28 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 the pencil of Rubens or Julio Romano : it 
 may, perhaps, however, be wished that the 
 epithets barbarous, (discord,) mad, (ambition,) 
 hateful, (envy,) * had been particular and pic- 
 turesque, instead of general and indiscrimina- 
 ting ; though it may possibly be urged, that, 
 in describing the dreadful inhabitants of the 
 portal of hell, Virgil has not always used such 
 adjuncts and epithets as a painter or statuary 
 might work after; he says on\y ultrices Cur^e, 
 mortiferum Bellum, mala Mentis Gaudia ; 
 particularly, malesuada is only applied to Fames, 
 instead of a Mord that might represent the 
 meagre and ghastly figure intended. I make 
 no scruple of adding, that in this famous pas- 
 sage, Virgil has exhibited no images so lively 
 and distinct, as these living figures painted by 
 Pope, each of them with their proper insignia 
 and attributes : 
 
 Envy her own snakes shall feel, 
 
 And Persecution mourn his broken wheel : 
 There Faction roar. Rebellion bite her chain. 
 And gasping Furies thirst for blood in vain f 
 
 A person 
 
 * Ver. 411. et seq. f Ver, 419. et seq.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 29 
 
 A person of no small rank has informed 
 me, that Mr. Addison was inexpressibly cha- 
 grined at this noble conclusion of Windsor- 
 Forest, both as a politician and as a poet. 
 As a politician, because it so highly celebrated 
 that treaty of peace which he deemed so per- 
 nicious to the liberties of Europe; and as a poet, 
 because he was deeply conscious that his own 
 Campaign, that gazette in rhyme, contained 
 no strokes of such genuine and sublime poetry 
 as the conclusion before us. 
 
 It is one of the greatest and most pleasing 
 arts of descriptive poetry, to introduce moral 
 sentences and instructions in an oblique and 
 indirect manner, in places where one naturally 
 expects only painting and amusement. We 
 have virtue, as Pope remarks,* put upon us 
 by surprize, and are pleased to find a thing 
 where we should never have looked to meet 
 with it. I must do a pleasing English poet the 
 justice to observe, that it is this particular art 
 
 that 
 
 * Iliad, B. 16. in the notes: Ver. 4G5.
 
 so ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 that is the very distinguishing excellence of 
 Cooper's-Hill ; throughout which, the de-' 
 scriptions of places, and images raised by the 
 poet, are still tending to some hint, or leading 
 into some reflection, upon moral life, or poli- 
 tical institution ; much in the same manner 
 as tlie real sight of such scenes and prospects 
 is apt to give the mind a composed turn, and 
 inchne it to thoughts and contemplations that 
 have a relation to the object. This is the great 
 charm of the incomparable Elegy written in 
 a Country Church- Yard. Having mentioned 
 the rustic monuments and simple epitaphs of 
 the swains, the amiable poet falls into a very 
 natural reflection : 
 
 For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey. 
 This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd. 
 Left the warm precincts of tlie chearful day. 
 Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind ? 
 
 Of this art Pope has exhibited some speci- 
 mens in the poem we are examining, but not 
 so many as might be expected from a mind 
 so strongly inchned to a moral way of writ- 
 1 inff.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 31 
 
 ing. After speaking of hunting the hare, he / 
 
 immediately subjoins, much in the spirit of 
 Denham, 
 
 Beasts urg'd by us their fellow-beasts pursue. 
 And learn of man each other to undo.* 
 
 Where he is describing the tyrannies formerly 
 exercised in this kingdom. 
 
 Cities laid waste, they storm'd the dens and caves. 
 
 He instantly adds, with an indignation becom- 
 ing a true lover of liberty, 
 
 For wiser brutes were backward to be slaves.f 
 
 But I am afraid our author, in the following' 
 passage, has flillen into a fault rather uncommon 
 in his writings, a reflection that is very far-fetched 
 and forced ; 
 
 Here waving groves a chequer'd scene display. 
 And part admit, and part exclude the day ; 
 
 As 
 
 * Ver. 123. But a critic of taste objected to mc the use 
 of the word undo; and of the word backward in a subsequent 
 line. t Ver. 50.
 
 32 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 As some coy nymph her lover's warm address 
 Nor quite indulges, nor can quite repress.* 
 
 Boliours would rank this comparison among 
 false thoughts and Italian conceits ; such par- 
 ticularly as abound in the works of Marino. 
 The fallacy consists in giving design and arti- 
 fice to the wood, as well as to the coquette ; 
 and in putting the light of the sun and the 
 warmth of a lover on a level. 
 
 s/ A pathetic reflection, properly introduced 
 into a descriptive poem, will have greater force 
 and beauty, and more deeply interest a reader, 
 than a moral one. When Pope, therefore, has 
 described a pheasant shot, he breaks out into 
 a very masterly exclamation ; 
 
 Ah ! what avail his glossj' varying^ dyes. 
 
 His purple crest, and scarlet-circled eyes. 
 
 The vivid green his shining plumes untold. 
 
 His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold rf 
 
 This exquisite picture heightens the distress, 
 and powerfully excites the commiseration of 
 
 the 
 
 * Ver. 17. f Ver. 115.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 33 
 
 the reader. Under this head, it would be un- 
 pardonable to omit a capital, and, I think, one 
 of the most excellent examples extant, of the 
 beauty here intended, in the third Georgic of 
 Virgil.* The poet having mournfully described 
 a steer struck with a pestilence, and falling 
 down dead in the middle of his work, artfully 
 reminds us of his former services ; 
 
 Quid labor aut benefacta juvant ? Quid vomere terras 
 Invertisse graves ?f 
 
 This circumstance would have been sufficient, 
 as it raised our pity from a motive of gratitude ; 
 but with this circumstance the tender Virgil 
 was not content ; what he adds, therefore, of 
 the natural undeviating temperance of the ani- 
 mal, who cannot have contracted disease by 
 excess, and who for that reason deserved a 
 better fate, is moving beyond compare : 
 
 — — Atqui non Massica Bacchi 
 Munera, non illis epulas nocuere repostse ! 
 Frondibus, et victu pascuntur simplicis herbse ; 
 VOL. I. D Pocula 
 
 * Ver. 525. 
 t By the epithet gkaves, Virgil insinuates, after his manner, 
 the difficulty and laboriousness of the work.
 
 34 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Pocula sunt Ibntes liquid!, atque exercita cursu 
 Flumina, nee somnos abrumpit cura salubres. 
 
 Of English poets, perhaps, none have excelled 
 the ingenious Mr. Dyer in this oblique instruc- 
 tion, into which he frequently steals imper- 
 ceptibly, in his little descriptive poem entitled 
 Grongar Hill, where he disposes every ob- 
 ject so as it may give occasion for some ob- 
 servation on human life. Denham himself is 
 not superior to Mr. Dyer in this particular. 
 After painting a landscape very extensive and 
 diversified, he adds, 
 
 Thus is Nature's vesture wrought. 
 To instruct our wandering thought; 
 Thus she dresses green and gay. 
 To disperse our cares away. 
 
 Another view from this favourite spot, gives 
 him an opportunity for sliding into the follow- 
 ing morahties : 
 
 * How close and small the hedges lie ! 
 
 What streaks of meadows cross the eye ! 
 
 A step, 
 
 * In this light also his poem on the Ruins of Rome deserves 
 a perusal. Dodsley's Miscell. vol. i. page 78. His Fleece, 
 
 which
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 3^ 
 
 A step, raethinks, may pass the stream, 
 So little distant dangers seem ; 
 So we mistake the Future's face, 
 Ey'd through Hope's deluding glass. 
 As yon summits, soft and fair. 
 Clad in colours of the air. 
 Which to tjiose, who journey near. 
 Barren, and brown, and rough appear. 
 Still we tread the same coarse way. 
 The Present's still a cloudy day. 
 
 The unexpected insertion of such reflections, 
 imparts to us the same pleasure that we feel, 
 when, in wandering through a wilderness or 
 grove, we suddenly behold, in the turning of 
 the walk, a statue of some Virtue or Muse. 
 
 It may be observed in general, that descrip- a 
 tiott of the external beauties of nature, is usually i 
 the»first effort of a young genius, before he hath I 
 studied manners and passions. Some of Milton's ' 
 most early, as well as most exquisite pieces, are 
 his Lycidas, L'Allegro, and II Penseroso : if we 
 may except his Ode on the Nativity of Christ, 
 which is, indeed, prior in the order of time, and 
 
 D 2 in 
 
 which I had the pleasure of reading in manuscript, with Dr. 
 Akenside, is written in a pure and classical taste, and with 
 many happy imitations of Virgil.
 
 36 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 ill which a penetrating critic might have disco- 
 vered tlie seeds of that boundless imagination, 
 which afterwards was to produce the Paradise 
 Lost. This ode, wliich, by the way, is not suf- 
 ficiently read nor admired, is also of the descrip- 
 tive kind ; but the objects of its description are 
 great, and striking to the imagination; the 
 false deities of the Heathen forsaking their 
 temples on the birth of our Saviour; divination 
 and oracles at an end ; which facts, though, 
 perhaps, not historically true, are poetically 
 beautiful. 
 
 The lonely mountains o'er. 
 
 And the resounding shore, 
 A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament f 
 
 From haunted spring, and dale 
 
 Edg'd with poplar pale. 
 The parting Genius is with sighing sent; 
 
 With flower-enwoven tresses torn. 
 The nynlphsin twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.* 
 
 The lovers of poetry (and to such only I write) 
 will not be displeased at my presenting them 
 also with the following image, which is so 
 
 strongly 
 
 * On the morning of Christ's Nativity. Newton's edition, 
 octavo. Vol. ii. page 28, 29, of the Miscellaneous Poems.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 37 
 
 strongly conceived, that, methinks, I see at 
 this instant the daemon it represents : 
 
 And sullen Moloch fled. 
 
 Hath left in shadows dread. 
 His burning idol all of blackest hue; 
 
 In vain with cimbals' ring 
 
 They call the griesly king. 
 In dismal dance about the furnace blue.* 
 
 Attention is irresistibly aM^akened and engaged 
 by that air of solemnity and enthusiasm that 
 reigns in the following stanzas : 
 
 The oracles are dumb ;+ 
 No voice, or hideous hum. 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving} 
 No nightly trance, or breathed spell. 
 Inspires the pale-ey'd priest from the prophetic cell. 
 
 Such is the power of true poetry, that one is 
 almost inclined to believe the superstitions here 
 alluded to, to be real; and the succeeding cir- 
 cumstances make one start, and look around : 
 
 D 3 In 
 
 * See also verses written at a Solemn Music, and on the 
 Passion, in the same volume ; and a vacation exercise, page y. 
 in all which are to be found many strokesof the sublime. 
 
 f Pa^e 28. 
 
 42;'821
 
 38 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 In consecrated earth. 
 
 And on the holy hearth. 
 The lars and lemurs moan with midnight plaint; 
 
 In urns and altars round, 
 
 A drear and dying sound 
 AfFrights the flamens at their service quaint ! 
 
 Methinks we behold the priests interrupted in 
 the middle of the secret ceremonies they were 
 performing, " in their temples dim," gazing 
 with ghastly eyes on each other, and terrified, 
 and wondering from whence these aerial voices 
 should proceed ! I have dwelt chiefly on this 
 ode as much less celebrated than L'Allegro 
 and II Penseroso, which are now universally 
 known ; but which, by a strange fatality, lay 
 in a sort of obscurity, the private enjoyment of 
 a few curious readers, till they were set to ad- 
 ■•^mirable music by Mr. Handel. And, indeed, 
 this volume of Milton's Miscellaneous Poems has 
 not till very lately met with suitable regard. 
 Shall I offend any rational admirer of Pope, by 
 remarking, that these juvenile descriptive poems 
 of Milton, as well as his Latin Elegies, are of a 
 strain far more exalted than any the former 
 author can boast ? Let me add, at the same 
 time, Avhat justice obliges me to add, that they 
 S arc
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 39 
 
 are far more incorrect. For in the very ode 
 before us, occur one or two passages, that are 
 puerile and affected to a degree not to be pa- 
 ralleled in the purer, but less elevated, com- 
 positions of Pope. The season being winter 
 when Jesus was born, Milton says, 
 
 Nature, in awe to him,* 
 Had dofft her gawdy trim. 
 
 And afterwards observes, in a very epigrarii- 
 matic and forced thought, unsuitable to the 
 dignity of the subject, and of the rest of the 
 ode, that, " she wooed the air, to hide her 
 guilty front with innocent snow," 
 
 And on her naked shame,+ 
 
 Pollute with sinful blame. 
 The saintly veil of maiden white to throw. 
 
 Confounded that her Maker's eyes 
 Should look so near upon her foul deformities. 
 
 D 4 "It 
 
 * This conceit, with the rest, however, is more excusable, 
 if we recollect how great a reader, especially at this time, 
 Milton was of the Italian Poets. It is certain that Milton, in 
 the beginning of the ode, had the third sonnet of Petrarch 
 strong in his fancy. 
 
 Era '1 giorno, ch' al sol si scoloraro 
 Per la pieta del suo fattore i rai ; 
 Quand', &c. 
 + Milton's Miscellaneous Poems, vol. ii. page 19.
 
 40 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 *' It is enough," in the words of Voltaire, " to 
 think one perceives some errors in this great 
 genius ; and it is a sort of consolation to a mind 
 so bounded and limited as mine, to be persuaded, 
 that the greatest men are sometimes deceived 
 like the vulgar." 
 
 It would be unpardonable to conclude these 
 remarks on descriptive poesy, without taking 
 v-liotice of the Seasons of Thomson, who had 
 peculiar and powerful talents for this species 
 of composition. Let the reader, therefore, par- 
 don a digression, if such it be, on his merits 
 and character. 
 
 Thomson was blessed with a strong and 
 copious fancy ; he hath enriched poetry with 
 a variety of new and original images, which 
 he painted from nature itself, and from his 
 own actual observations : his descriptions have, 
 therefore, a distinctness and truth, which are 
 utterly wanting to those of poets who have 
 only copied from each other, and have never 
 looked abroad on the objects themselves. 
 Thomson was accustoined to wander away into 
 
 the
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 4l 
 
 the country for clays, and for weeks, attentive 
 to " each rural sight, eacli rural sound ;" while 
 many a poet, who has dwelt for years in the 
 Strand, has attempted to describe fields and 
 rivers, and generally succeeded accordingly. 
 Hence that nauseous repetition of the sanie_ 
 circumstances ; hence that disgusting impro- 
 priety of introducing what may be called a 
 set of hereditary images, without proper regard 
 to the age, or climate, or occasion, in which 
 they were formerly used. Though the diction 
 of the Seasons is sometimes harsh and inharmo- 
 nious, and sometimes turgid and obscure, and 
 though, in many instances, the numbers are 
 not sufficiently diversified by different pauses, 
 yet is this poem, on the whole, from the num- 
 berless strokes of nature in which it abound^, 
 one of the most captivating and amnsing in niir 
 language ; and which, as its beauties are not of 
 a transitory kind, as depending on particular 
 customs and manners, 'will ever be perused 
 with delight. The scenes of Thomson are fre- 
 quently as wild and romantic as those of Sal- 
 vator Rosa, varied with precipices and torrents, 
 and " castled cliffs," and deep vallies, with 
 
 piny
 
 42 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 piny mountains, and the gloomiest caverns. 
 Innumerable are the little circumstances in his 
 descriptions, totally unobserved by all his pre- 
 decessors. What poet hath ever taken notice 
 of the leaf, that, towards the end of autumn, 
 
 Incessant rustles from the mournful grove,* 
 Oft startling such as, studious, walk below. 
 And slowly circles through the waving air ? 
 
 Or M'ho, in speaking of a summer evening, 
 hath ever mentioned 
 
 The quail that clamours for his running mate ? 
 
 Or the following natural image at the same 
 time of the year? 
 
 Wide o'er the thistly lawn, as swells the breeze, 
 A whitening shower of vegetable down 
 Amusive floats. + — — — 
 
 In what other poet do we find the silence and 
 expectation that precedes an April shower in- 
 sisted on, as in ver. 165 of Spring? Or where, 
 
 The 
 
 * Ver. 1004.. ^ Ver. 1657.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 43 
 
 The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard. 
 By such as wander through the forest walks. 
 Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves.* 
 
 How full, particular, and picturesque, is this 
 assemblage of circumstances that attend a very 
 keen frost in a night of winter ! 
 
 Loud rings the frozen earth, and hard reflects 
 A double noise ; while at his evening watch 
 The village dog deters the nightly thief; 
 The heifer lows ; the distant water-fall 
 Swells in the breeze ; and with the hasty tread 
 Of traveller, the hollow-sounding plain 
 Shakes from afar.f 
 
 In no one subject are common writers more 
 confused and unmeaning, than in their descrip- 
 tions of rivers, which are generally said only 
 to wind and to murmur, while their qualities 
 and courses are seldom accurately marked. 
 Examine the exactness of the ensuing descrip- 
 tion, and consider what a perfect idea it com- 
 municates to the mind. 
 
 Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along 
 The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock. 
 
 Now 
 
 * Ver. 176. f Winter, ver. 731.
 
 44 ESSAY UN THE GENIUS 
 
 Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool. 
 Now starting to a sudden stream, and now 
 Gently diffus'd into a limpid plain ; 
 A various groupe the herds and flocks compose. 
 Rural confusion.* 
 
 A groupe worthy the pencil of Giacomo da 
 Bassano, and so minutely delineated, tliat he 
 mia'ht have worked from this sketch : 
 
 On the grassy bank 
 
 Some ruminating lie ; while others stand 
 Half in the flood, and often bending sip 
 The circling surface. — 
 
 He adds, that the ox, in the middle of them, 
 
 From his sides 
 
 The troublous insects lashes, to his sides 
 Returning still.f 
 
 A natural circumstance, that, to the best of 
 my remembrance, hath escaped even the na- 
 tural Theocritus. Nor do I recollect that any 
 poet hath been struck with the murmurs o'f 
 the numberless insects that swarm abroad at 
 
 the 
 
 *" Summer, ver. 479. f Summer^ ver. 485. et seq.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 45 
 
 the noon of a summer's clay : as attendants of 
 the evening, indeed, tliey have been men- 
 tioned; 
 
 Resounds the living surface of the ground : 
 Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum 
 To him who muses through the woods at noon ; 
 Or drowsy shepherd, as he lies reclin'd 
 With half-shut eyes.* 
 
 But the novelty and nature we admire in the 
 descriptions of Thomson, are by no means his 
 only excellencies ; he is equally to be praised 
 for impressing on our minds the effects, which 
 the scene dehneated would have on the pre- 
 sent spectator or hearer. Thus having spoken 
 of the roaring* of the savag-es in a wilderness 
 of Africa, he introduces a captive, who, though 
 just escaped from f prison and slavery under 
 the tyrant of Morocco, is so terrified and asto- 
 nished at the dreadful uproar, that 
 
 The wretch half wishes for his bonds again. 
 
 Thus 
 
 * Summer, ver. 280. f Summer, ver. 935,
 
 46 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Thus also having described a caravan lost and 
 overwhehned in one of those whirlwinds that 
 so frequently agitate and lift up the whole 
 sands of the desert, he finishes his picture by 
 adding, that, 
 
 In Cairo's crouded streets,* 
 
 Th' impatient merchant, wondering waits in vain. 
 And Mecca saddens at the long delay. 
 
 And thus, lastly, in describing the pestilence 
 that destroyed the British troops at the siege 
 of Carthagena, he has used a circumstance ini- 
 mitably lively, picturesque and striking to the 
 imagination ; for he says, that the admiral not 
 only heard the groans of the sick that echoed 
 from ship to ship, but that he also pensively 
 stood, and listened at midnight to tli£ dash- 
 ing of the waters, occasioned by throwing the 
 dead bodies into the sea ; 
 
 Heard, nightly, plung'd into the sullen waves. 
 The frequent corse. f — • 
 
 A minute 
 
 * Ver. 976 -f Ver. 1047.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 47 
 
 A minute and particular enumeration of cir- v^ 
 cumstances judiciously selected, is what chiefly 
 discriminates poetry from history, and renders 
 the former, for that reason, a more close and 
 faithful representation of nature than the lat- 
 ter. And if our poets would accustom them- 
 selves to contemplate fully every object, be- 
 fore they attempted to describe it, they would 
 not fail of o'ivino; their readers more new and 
 more complete images than they generally 
 do.* 
 
 These 
 
 * A summer evening, for instance, after a shower, has been 
 frequently described : but never, that I can recollect, so justly 
 as in the following lines, whose greatest beauty is that hinted 
 above, a simple enumeration of the appearances of nature, and 
 of what is actually to be seen at such a time. They are not 
 unworthy the correct and pure Tibullus. They were written 
 by the late Mr. Robert Bedingfield, author of the Education 
 pf Achilles, a Poem, in Dodsley's Miscellanies. 
 
 Vespere sub verno, tandem actis imbribus, aether 
 
 Guttatim sparsis rorat apertus aquis. 
 Aureus abrupto curvamine desuper arcus 
 Fulget, et ancipiti lumine tingit agros. 
 Continue scnsus pertentat frigoris aura 
 
 Vivida, et insinuans mulcet amgenus odor. 
 Pallentes sparsim accrescunt per pascua fungi, 
 Laetius et torti graminis hcrba viret. 
 
 Plurimus
 
 48 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 These observations on Thomson, which, how- 
 ever, would not have been so large, if there 
 had been already any considerable criticism on 
 his character, might be still augmented by an 
 examination and developement of the beauties 
 in the loves of the Birds, in Spring, verse 
 580 ; a \iew of the torrid zone in Summer, 
 verse 630 ; the rise of fountains and rivers in 
 Autumn, verse 781 ; a man perishing in the 
 snows, in Winter, verse 277; the wolves de- 
 scending from the Alps, and a view of winter 
 within the polar circle, verse 389 ; which are 
 all of them highly-finished originals, excepting 
 
 a few 
 
 Plurimus annosa decussus ab arbore limax 
 In putri lentum tramite sulcat iter. 
 
 Splendldus accendit per dumos lampida vermis, 
 Roscida dum treniula semita luce micat. 
 These are the particular circumstances that usually succeed a 
 shower at that season, and yet these are new, and untouched 
 by any other wM'iter. The Carmina Quadragesimalia, volume 
 the second, printed at Oxford 1748, from whence this is tran- 
 scribed, (page 14,) contain many copies of exquisite descrip- 
 tive poetry, in a genuine classical style. See particularly The 
 Rivers, page 4. The Morning, page 12. The House of Care, 
 from Spenser, page 16. The Mahometan Paradise, page 32. 
 The Trees of different soils, page 63. The Bird's Nest, page 
 82. Geneva, page 89. Virgil's Tomb, page 97. The In- 
 dian, page lis. The House of Discord, page 133. Colum- 
 bus fust discovering the laud of the West Indies, page 125, &c.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 49 
 
 a few of those blemishes intimated above. Win- 
 ter is, in my apprehension, the most vahiable of 
 these four poems ; the scenes of it, Uke those of \/ 
 II Penseroso of Milton, being of that awful, 
 solemn, and pensive kind, on which a great ge- 
 nius best dehghts to dwell. 
 
 Pope, it seems, was of opinion, that descrip- 
 tive poetry is a composition as absurd as a feast 
 made up of sauces : and I know many other per- 
 sons that think meanly of it. I will not presume 
 to say it is equal, either in dignity or utility, to 
 those compositions that lay open the internal con- 
 stitution of man, and that imitate characters, 
 manners, and sentiments. 1 may, however, re- 
 mind such contemners of it, that, in a sister-art, 
 landscape-painting claims the very next rank to 
 history-painting ; being ever preferred to single 
 portraits, to pieces of still-life, to droll-figures, 
 to fruit and flower-pieces ; that Titian thought it 
 no diminution of his genius, to spend much af 
 his time in works of the former species ; and that, 
 if their principles lead them to condemn Thom- 
 son, they must also condemn the Georgics of 
 Virgil ; and the greatest part of the noblest 
 ' VOL. I, E descriptive
 
 50 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 descriptive poem extant, I mean that of Lucre- 
 tius. 
 
 We are next to speak of the Lyric pieces of 
 Pope. He used to declare, that if Dry den had 
 finished a translation of the lUad, he would not 
 have attempted one after so great a master : he 
 might have said with more propriety, I will not 
 write a music-ode* after Alexander's Feast, which 
 the variety and harmony of its numbers, and the 
 beauty and force of its images, have conspired to 
 place at the head of modern lyric compositions. 
 This of Mr. Pope is, however, the second of the 
 kind.j* In the first stanza, every different instru- 
 ment 
 
 * He wrote this Ode at the request of Steele. 
 
 f The inferiority of Addison's Ode to Pope's on this sub- 
 ject, is manifest and remarkable. What prosaic tameness and 
 insipidity d>o we meet with in the following lines I 
 
 Cecilia's name does all our numbers grace. 
 From every voice the tuneful accents fly ; 
 In soaring trebles now it rises high ; 
 And now it sinks, and dwells upon the base. 
 
 This almost descends to burlesque. What follows is hardly 
 rhyme, and surely not poetry : 
 
 Consecratft
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 51 
 
 ment is described and illustrated, in numbers that 
 admirably represent and correspond to its difFe- 
 
 E 2 rent 
 
 Consecrate the place and day. 
 
 To music and CeciliA. 
 
 Music^ the greatest good that mortals know.— 
 
 Music can noble hints impart. 
 
 There follows in this stanza, which is the third, a description 
 of a subject very trite, Orpheus drawing the beasts about him. 
 Pope shewed his superior judgment in taking no notice of this 
 old story, and selecting a more new, as well a? more striking, 
 incident, in the life of Orpheus. It was the custom of this 
 time for almost every rhymer to try his hand in an ode on 
 St. Cecilia ; we find many despicable rhapsodies, so called, 
 in the trash of Tonson's Miscellanies. We have there also 
 preserved another, and an earlier ode, of Dryden on this sub- 
 ject ; one stanza of which I cannot forbear inserting in this 
 note. It was set to music, 1687, by I. Baptista Draghi, 
 
 What passion cannot music raise and quell ! 
 
 When Jubal struck the corded shell. 
 
 His listening brethren stood around. 
 
 And wondering on their faces fell. 
 
 To worship that celestial sound : 
 Less than a god they thought there could not dwell 
 
 Within the hollow of that shell. 
 
 That spoke so sweetly and so well. 
 What passion cannot music raise and quell ! 
 
 This is so complete and engaging a history-piece, that I knew 
 a person of taste who was resolved to have it executed on one 
 side of his saloon : " In which case, (said he,) the painter has 
 
 nothing
 
 52 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 rent qualities and genius. The beginning of the 
 second stanza, on the power which music exerts 
 over the passions, is a httle flat, and by no means 
 equal to the conclusion of that stanza. The ani- 
 mating song that Orpheus* sung to the Argo- 
 nauts, copied from Valerius Flaccus, (for that of 
 Apollonius is of a different nature,) is the happily- 
 chosen subject of the third ; on hearing which, 
 
 Each cliief his sevenfold shield display 'd. 
 And half unshcalh'd the shining blade ; 
 
 which effects of the song, however lively, do not 
 equal the force and spirit of what Dryden ascribes 
 to the song of his Grecian artist: for when Ti- 
 motheus cries out revenge, raises the furies, and 
 calls up to Alexander's view a troop of Grecian 
 ghosts, that were slain, and left unburied, inglo- 
 rious and forgotten, each of them waving a torch 
 
 in 
 
 noiliiiig to do, but to substitute colours for words, the design 
 being finished to his hands." The reader doubtless observes 
 the fine etiect of the repetition of the last line j as well as the 
 stroke of nature, in making these rude hearers imagine some 
 god lay concealed in this first musician's instrument. 
 
 ^ He might have enriched his piece by copying the fourth 
 Pythian ode of Pindar,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 63 
 
 in his liand, and pointing to the hostile temples 
 of the Persians, and demanding vengeance of 
 their prince, he instantly started from his throne, 
 
 — Seiz'd a flambeau with zeal to destroy ;* 
 
 while Thais, and the attendant princes, rushed 
 out with him to set fire to the city. The whole 
 train of imagery in this stanza of Dryden is alive, 
 subhme, and animated to an unparalleled degree : 
 the poet had so strongly possessed himself of the 
 action described, that he places it fully before 
 the eyes of the reader. 
 
 The descent of Orpheus into hell'is gracefully 
 introduced in the fourth stanza, as it naturally 
 flowed from the subject of the preceding : the 
 description of the infernal regions is well imagin- 
 ed ; and the effects of the musician's lyre on the 
 inhabitants of hell, are elegantly translated from 
 the fourth Georgic of .Virgil,! and happily 
 
 E 3 adapted 
 
 ■*' These anapests, for such they are, have a fine effect, 
 t Yer. 480.
 
 54 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 adapted to the subject in question. The suppli- 
 cating song at the beginning of the fifth stanza, 
 is pathetic and poetical, especially when he con- 
 jures the powers below in beautiful trochaics ; 
 
 By the heroes' armed shades. 
 Glittering through the gloomy glades; 
 By the youths that dy'd for love. 
 Wandering in the myrtle grorv^e. 
 
 These images are picturesque and appropriated ; 
 and these are such notes as might 
 
 Draw iron tears down Pluto's cheek. 
 And make hell grant what love did seek.* 
 
 But the numbers that conclude this stanza, are 
 of so burlesque and ridiculous a kind, and have 
 so much the air of a drinking song at a county 
 election, that one is amazed and concerned to 
 find them in a serious ode, and in an ode of a 
 writer eminently skilled, in general, in accommo-' 
 dating his sounds to his sentiments. 
 
 Thus 
 * Milton's II penseroso.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POP£. 65 
 
 Thus song could prevail 
 
 O'er death and o'er, hell, 
 A conquest how hard and how glorious ! 
 
 Tho' fate had fast bound her 
 
 With Styx nine times round her. 
 Yet music and love were victorious. 
 
 s,. 
 
 One would imagine that John Dennis, or some 
 hero of the Dunciad, had been here attempting 
 to travesty this description of the restoration of 
 Eurydice to hfc. It is observable, that tliis is 
 the very measure Addison thought was proper to 
 use in the comic character of Sir Trusty ; by the 
 introduction of which he has so strangely de- 
 based and degraded his elegant opera of Rosa- 
 mond : 
 
 How unhappy is he 
 
 That is ty'd to a she. 
 And fam'd for his wit and his beauty ; 
 
 For of us pretty fellows 
 
 Our wives are so jealous. 
 They ne'er have enough of our duty.* 
 
 These numbers, therefore, according to Addison's 
 ear, conveyed a low and ludicrous idea, instead 
 
 E4 of 
 
 * Act I. Scene II. See also. Scene IV. Act I. A song 
 of Grldeline and Trusty. Act III. Scene IV.
 
 56 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 of being expressive of triumph and exultation, 
 the images here intended to be impressed by 
 Pope. 
 
 Virgil is again imitated throughout the sixth 
 stanza, which describes the behaviour of Orpheus 
 on the second loss of Eurydice. I wish Pope 
 had inserted that striking circumstance, so strong- 
 ly imagined, of a certain melancholy murmur, 
 or rather dismal shriek, that was heard all around 
 the lakes of Avernus, the moment Orpheus look- 
 ed back on his wife ; 
 
 .— Terque fragor stagnis auditus Avernis.* 
 
 And as prosop'opeias are a great beauty in lyric 
 poetry, surely he should not have omitted those 
 natural and pathetic exclamations of Eurydice, 
 the moment she was snatched back, and which 
 she uttered as she was gradually sinking to the 
 shades, especially where she movingly takes her 
 last adieu ; 
 
 Jamque vale ! •.— 
 
 And 
 
 * Georgic iv. 493.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 57 
 
 And adds, that she is now surrounded with a vast 
 darkness, " feror ingenti circumdata nocte ;" and 
 in vain stretching out her feeble arms towards 
 him, 
 
 Invalidasque tibi tendens, heu ! non tua, palmas.* 
 
 This hvely and pathetic attitude would have made 
 a striking picture under the hands of Pope. The 
 reader, I presume, feels the effect of the judicious 
 placing in the verse, heu ! non tua^ and of its 
 repetition after tibi. The places in which Or-^ 
 pheus, according to Pope, made his lamentations, 
 are not so wild, so savage, and dismal, as those 
 mentioned by Virgil : to introduce him " beside 
 the falls of fountains," conveys not such an 
 image of desolation and despair, as the caverns 
 on the banks of Strymon and Tanais, the Hyper- 
 borean deserts, and the Riphasan solitudes. And 
 to say of Hebrus, only, that it " rolls in mean- 
 ders," is flat and frigid, and does not heighten 
 the melancholy of the place. There is an anti- 
 thesis in the succeeding lines, " he gloxvs amid 
 
 Rhodope's 
 
 * Ver. 4-9 8.
 
 58 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Rhodope's snows,'' which I hope the poet did not 
 intend, as it would be a trivial and puerile con- 
 ceit. The death of Orpheus is expressed with a 
 beautiful brevity and abruptness, suitable to the 
 nature of the ode : 
 
 Hark ! Haemus resounds with the Bacchanals cries. 
 
 Ah ! see he dies ! 
 Yet even in death Eurydice he sung. 
 
 Instead of sung, Virgil says vocabat, which is 
 more natural and tender ; and Virgil adds a very 
 moving epithet, that he called miseram Eurydicen. 
 I am sensible Pope never intended an exact 
 translation of the passages of the Georgics here 
 alleged : I only hint, that, in my humble judg- 
 ment, he has omitted some of the most striking 
 incidents in the story. I have lately seen a ma- 
 nuscript ode, entitled, '* On the Use and Abuse 
 of Poetry," in which Orpheus is considered in 
 another and a higher hght, according to ancient 
 mythology, as the first legislator and civilizer of 
 mankind. I shall here insert a stanza of it, con- 
 taining part of what relates to this subject. 
 
 2 ANTISTROPHE
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 59 
 
 ANTISTROPHE II. 
 
 Such was wise Orpheus' moral song. 
 The lonely cliffs and caves among : 
 From hollow oak, or mountain-den. 
 He drew the naked, gazing men ; 
 
 Or where in turf-built sheds, or rushy bowers. 
 They shiver'd in cold wintry showers. 
 Or sunk in heapy snows ; 
 Then sudden, while his melting music stole 
 "With powerful magic o'er each softening soul. 
 
 Society, and law, and sacred order rose. 
 
 EPODE II. 
 
 Father of peace and arts ! he first the city built ; 
 
 No more the neighbour's blood was by his neighbour spilt ; 
 
 He taught to till, and separate the lands; 
 He fix'd the roving youths in Hymen's myrtle bands; 
 Whence dear domestic life began. 
 And all the charities that soften'd man : 
 The babes that in their fathers' faces smil'd. 
 With lisping blandishments their rage beguil'd. 
 And tender thoughts inspir'd,— &c. 
 
 I am not permitted to transcribe any more J 
 and therefore return to Pope aoain. 
 
 The
 
 60 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 The beo'Innino; of the last stanza of the ode 
 here examined, seems to be a repetition of the 
 subject of the second, the power of music over 
 the passions, which may, perhaps, be reckoned 
 a blameable tautology ; especially as these lines, 
 
 Music the fiercest grief can charm. 
 And Fate's severest rage disarm; 
 Music can soften pain to ease. 
 And make despair and madness please ; 
 
 are inferior, I am afraid, to the former on the 
 same subjects, which contain beautiful and 
 poetical personifications ; 
 
 Melancholy lifts her head, 
 
 Morpheus rouses from his bed. 
 
 Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes. 
 
 Listening Envy drops her snakes j 
 Intestine vpar no more our passions wage. 
 And giddy factions hear away their rage. 
 
 It is observable, that this Ode of Pope, and the 
 Alexander's Feast of Dryden, conclude with an 
 epigram of four lines ; a species of wit as fla- 
 grantly unsuitable to the dignity, and as foreign 
 to the nature, of the lyric, as it is of the epic 
 
 muse. 
 
 It
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 6l 
 
 It is to be regretted, that Mr. Handel has not 
 set to music the former, as well as the latter, of 
 these celebrated odes, in which he has displayed 
 the combined powers of verse and voice, to a 
 ■wonderful degree. No poem, indeed, affords so 
 much various matter for a composer to work 
 upon, as Dry den has here introduced and ex- 
 pressed all the greater passions, and as the tran- 
 sitions from one to the other are sudden and im- 
 petuous ; of which we feel the effects in the pa- 
 thetic description of the fall of Darius, that im- 
 mediately succeeds the joyous praises of Bacchus. 
 The symphony, and air particularly, that accom- 
 panies the four words, " fallen, fallen, fallen, 
 fallen," is strangely moving,* and consists of a 
 few simple and touching notes, without any of 
 
 those 
 
 * The mention of this pathetic air, reminds me of a story 
 of the celebrated Lully, who having been one day accused of 
 never setting any thing to music, but the languid verses of 
 Quinault, was immediately animated with the reproach, and, 
 as it were, seized with a kind of enthusiasm ; he ran instantly 
 to his harpsichord, and striking a few cords, sung in recita- 
 tive these four lines in the Iphigenia of Racine, which are 
 full of the strongest imagery, and arc therefore much more 
 difficult to express in music, than verses of mere sentiment. 
 
 Un
 
 62 I.SSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 those intricate variations, and affected divisions, 
 into M'hich, in compliance with a vicious and 
 vulgar taste, this great master hath sometimes 
 descended. Even this piece of Handel, so ex- 
 cellent on the whole, is not free from one or two 
 blemishes of this sort, particularly in the air, 
 *' With ravished ears," &c. 
 
 The moderns have, perhaps, practised no spe- 
 cies of poetry w^ith so little success, and with 
 such indisputable inferiority to the ancients, as 
 the Ode ; which seems owing to the harshness 
 
 and 
 
 Vn prctre environne cP une foule cruelle 
 Portera sur ma fille une main criminelle, 
 Dechirera son scin, et d' un ocil curicux. 
 Dans son cceur palpitant consultera les dieux. 
 
 One of the company has often declared, that they all thought 
 themselves present at this dreadful spectacle, and that the 
 notes with which Lully accompanied these words, erected the 
 hair of their heads with horror. 
 
 The opinion of Boileau concerning music is remarkable; 
 he asserts, Qu'on ne peut jamais faire un bon opera; par- 
 ceque la musique ne sauroit narrer ; que les passions n'y 
 peuvent etre peinte dans toute I'etendue qu'elles demandent ; 
 que d'ailleurs elle ne sanroit souvent mettre en chant les ex- 
 pressions vraimeut sublimes et courageuses.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 6$ 
 
 and untuneableness of modem languages, abound- ( 
 ing in monosyllables, and crowded with conso- 
 nants. This particularly is the case of the Eng- 
 lish, whose original is Teutonic, and which, 
 therefore, is not so musical as the Italian, the 
 Spanish, or even the French, as not having so 
 great a quantity of words derived from the Latin. 
 But the Latin language itself, as well as all others, 
 must yield to the unparalleled sweetness and co- 
 piousness of the Greek. Tant6 est sermo grsecus 
 latino jucundior, (says Quintilian,) ut iiostri 
 poetas, quoties dulce carmen esse voluerunt, 
 illorum id nominibus exornent."* What line, 
 even in the Italian poets, is so soft and melli- 
 fluous, asf 
 
 * He gives some instances that are curious, and worth at- 
 tention. " Quid quod pleraque nos ilia quasi mugiento litera 
 cludimus M, qua nullum Graece verbum cadit? At illi N 
 jucundam et in fine prjecipue quasi tinnientem, illius loco po- 
 nunt, quae est apud nos rarissime in clausulis. Quid quod 
 syllabse nostrse in B literam et D innituntur ? adeo asperc, ut 
 plerique non antiquissimorum quidem, sed tamen veterum 
 moUire tentaverint, non solum aversa pro adversis dicendo, sed 
 et in praeposltione B literae absonam et ipsam S sul)jicie»do." 
 Apply these observations with proper alterations to the Eng- 
 lish tongue. Quintil. I. xii. c. 10. 
 
 f Odys. iv. 56';.
 
 64 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 AXX' acm ^sipv^oto \iyv7rvsioylas xnrxs ? 
 
 Or as, in the tender Bion, 
 
 Aia^u Tov A^uviv, avu^eio xaX©- A^cuvn ; 
 
 to instance in no more? If we cast a transient 
 view over the most celebrated of the modern 
 lyrics, we may observe, that the stanza of * Pe- 
 trarch, which has been adopted by all his succes- 
 sors, displeases the ear, by its tedious unifor- 
 mity, 
 
 * Petrarch was taught the Greek language, which was at 
 that time unknown in Italy, by Barlaham, a learned monk of 
 Calabria ; which country having been a colony of Greeks, re- 
 tained some traces of their tongue. Soon afterwards Boccace 
 learned Greek of Leontius Pilatus, of Thessalonica, who ex- 
 plained Homer to him for three years; after which time Boc- 
 cace founded a lecture for the explanation of the Iliad and 
 Odyssey. After Boccace's death, the republic of Florence 
 invited Emanuel Chrysoloras, a nobleman of Constantinople, 
 to open an academy for teaching the Greek language about the 
 year 1394. This Chrysoloras came into England, to solicit 
 Richard II, to enter into an alliance against the Turks. Among" 
 his scholars were Leonardus Aretinus, Paulus Vergerius, Gua- 
 rinus, Leonicenus, Typhernas, Philelphus, and other famous 
 writers. Petrarch died in the year 1374. Boccace in 1379. 
 Chaucer in 14U0. The Greek tongue was brought into Eng- 
 land by William Grocyn. He was fellow of Is'ew College, ia 
 Oxford, and died about the year 1520.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 65 
 
 inity, and by the number of identical cadences. 
 And, indeed, to speak the truth, tliere appears 
 to be httle valuable in Petrarch, except the pu- 
 rity of his diction. His sentiments, even of 
 love, are metaphysical, and far fetched ; neither 
 is there much variety in his subjects, or fancy 
 in his method of treating them. jMetastasio is a 
 much better lyric poet. When Boileau attempted 
 an ode, he exhibited a glaring proof, of what 
 has frequently been hinted in the course of this 
 Essay, that the writer whose grand characteris- 
 tical talent is satiric or moral poetry, will never 
 succeed, with equal merit, in the higher branches 
 of his art. In his ode on the taking Namur, are 
 instances of the* bombastic, of the prosaic, 
 and of the puerile. And it is no small confir- 
 voL. I. F mation 
 
 * An instance of the first is to be found in the third stanza. 
 Of the SECOND, in the ninth stanza. 
 
 Qui domta Lille, Coutrai, 
 Gand, la superbe Espagnole, 
 Saint Orner, Bezan^on, Dole, 
 Ypres, Mastricht, et Cambrai. 
 
 Of the THIRD sort, is his making a star or comet fatal to his 
 enemies, of the white feather which the king usually wore in 
 his hat.
 
 66 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 mation of the ruling passion of this author, that 
 he could not conclude his ode, but with a severe 
 stroke on his old antagonist Perrault, though the 
 majesty of this species of compositions are so 
 much injured by descending to personal satire. 
 The name of Malherbe is respectable, as he was 
 the first reformer of the French poesy, and the 
 first who gave his countrymen any idea of a le- 
 gitimate ode ; though his own pieces have hardly 
 any thing but harmony to recommend them. 
 The Odes of la Motte, though so highly praised 
 by Sanadon, and by Fontenelle, are fuller of de- 
 licate sentiment, and philosophical reflection, 
 than of imagery, figures, and poetry. There 
 are particular stanzas eminently good, but not; 
 one entire ode. Some of Rousseau, particularly 
 that to Fortune, and some of his psalms ; and 
 one or two of Voltaire, particularly to the king 
 of Prussia, on his accession to the throne, and 
 on Maupertuis's travels to the north, to measure 
 the degrees of the meridian towards the equator; 
 seem to arise above that correct mediocrity which 
 distinguishes the lyric poetry of the French. In 
 this ode of Voltaire, we find a prosopopeia of Ame- 
 ricus, and afterwards a speech of Newton, on 
 
 the
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 67 
 
 the design of this traveller and his companions, 
 that approach to the sublime; 
 
 Corame ils parloient ainsi, Newton dans I'empiree, 
 Newton les regardoit, et du ciel entr'ouvert 
 
 Confirmez, disoit il, a la terre eclair^e 
 Ce que j'ai decouvert. 
 
 I hope I shall not transgress a very sensible 
 observation of Pope, who would have a true 
 critic be 
 
 Still pleas'd to praise, yet not afraid to blame, 
 
 if I should say, we have lately seen two or 
 three lyric pieces superior to any he has left 
 us ; I mean an Ode on Lyric Poetry, and 
 another to Lord Huntingdon, by Dr. Aken- 
 side ; and a Chorus of British Bards, by Mr. 
 Gilbert West, at the end of the Institution of 
 the Order of the Garter.* Both these are 
 written with regular returns of the Strophe, 
 Antistrophe, and Epode, which give a truly 
 F 2 Pindaric 
 
 * Together with some of the Odes of Mr. William Collins, 
 who had a strong and fruitful imagination ; and the Chorus oa 
 Death in Mr. Mason's Caractacus.
 
 6s ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Pindaric variety to the numbers, that is want- 
 ing not only to the best French and Itahan, 
 but even to the best Latin odes. In the pieces 
 here commended, the figures are strong, and 
 the transitions bold, and there is a just mix- 
 ture of sentiment and imagery ; and particu- 
 larly, they are animated with a noble spirit of 
 liberty. I must refer the reader to the cha- 
 racters of Alc£Bus and of Milton in the two 
 first, and to the stanza of Mr. West's Ode 
 on the Barons procuring Magna Charta, which 
 I shall insert at length. 
 
 On yonder plain. 
 Along whose willow-fringed side 
 The silver-footed Naiads sportive train, 
 Down the smooth Thames amid the cygnets glide, 
 I saw, when at thy reconciling word, 4 > 
 
 Injustice, anarchy, intestine jar. 
 Despotic insolence, the wasting sword, 
 And all the brazen throats of civil war 
 Were hush'd in peace ; from this imperious throne 
 
 Hurl'd furious down, 
 
 Abash'd, dismay'd. 
 Like a chas'd lion to the savage shade 
 Of his own forests fell Oppression fled. 
 With vengeance brooding in his sullen breast. 
 Then Justice fearless rais'd her decent head, 
 Heard every grief, each wrong redrest j 
 
 r' 
 
 While
 
 * 
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. ^9 
 
 While round her valiant squadron'^ stoodj 
 
 And bade lier awful tongue demand. 
 
 From vanijuish'd John's reluctant hand. 
 
 The DEED OF FREEDOM purchas'd with their blood.* 
 
 The next Lyric compositions of Pope, are 
 two choruses inserted in a very heavy tragedy 
 altered from Shakespeare by the Duke of Buck- 
 ingham ; in which we see that the most ac- 
 curate observation of dramatic rules without 
 genius is of no effect. These choruses are 
 extremely elegant and harmonious ; but are 
 they not chargeable with the fault which 
 Aristotle imputes to many of Euripides, that 
 they are foreign and adventitious to the sub- 
 ^ ject, and contribute nothing towards the ad- 
 vancement of the main action ? Whereas the 
 
 chorus ought, *' Mo^iov uvai m oXs, xoci <rvvocfooviC,iO-~ 
 
 6czj,"| to be a part or member of the one Whole, 
 
 co-operate with, and help to accelerate the in- 
 
 F 3 tended 
 
 * Dodsley's Miscellanies, vol. ii. page 152. See also in the 
 same volume, an excellent ode of Mr. Cobb. From another 
 of whose odes Pope took the following line; 
 
 Thy stone, O Sisyphus, stands still. 
 \
 
 70 ISSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 tended event ; as is constantly, adds the phi- 
 losopher, the practice of Sophocles. Whereas 
 these reflections of Pope on the baneful in- 
 fluences of war, on the arts and learning, and 
 on the universal power of love, seem to be 
 too general, are not sufficiently appropriated, 
 do not rise from the subject and occasion, and 
 might be inserted with equal propriety in 
 twenty other tragedies. This remark of Aris- 
 totle, though he does not himself produce any 
 examples, may be verified from the following, 
 among many others. In the Phoenicians of 
 Euripides, they sing a long and very beautiful, 
 but ill-placed, hymn to Mars ; I speak of that 
 which begins so nobly, 
 
 Kxt ^avxlu Kotliyyi, B^o(ji.iii zjx^xiAHaos zo^xts;* ' 
 
 " O, direful Mars ! why art thou still delighted 
 with blood and with death, and why an enemy 
 to the feasts of Bacchus?" And a still more 
 ■ glaring instance may be brought from the 
 end of the third act of the Troadcs, in which 
 
 the 
 
 * Ver. 7:»y,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 71 
 
 the story of Ganymede is introduced not very 
 artificially.* To these may be added that ex- 
 quisite ode in praise of Apollo, descriptive of 
 his birth and victories, which we find in the 
 Iphigenia in Tauris.'f 
 
 On the other hand, the choruses of Sopho- 
 cles never desert the subject of each particu- 
 lar drama, and all their sentiments and reflec- 
 tions are drawn from the situation of the prin- 
 cipal personage of the fable. Nay, Sophocles 
 hath artfully found a method of making those 
 poetical descriptions, with which the choruses 
 of the ancients abound, carry on the chief 
 design of the piece ; and has by these means 
 accomplished what is a great difficulty in writ- 
 ing tragedy, has united poetry with propriety. 
 In the :[: Philoctetes the chorus takes a natu- 
 F 4 ral 
 
 * Ver. 795. f Ver 1235. etseq. 
 
 i The subject and scene of this tragedy, so romantic and 
 uncommon, are highly pleasing to the imagination. See par- 
 ticularly his description of his being left in this desolate 
 island, v. 280. His lamentation for the loss of his bow, 
 V. ] 140. and also 1185. and his last adieu to the island, 1508. 
 
 One
 
 72 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 ral occasion, at verse 694;, to give a minute 
 and moving picture of the solitary life of that 
 unfortunate hero; and when afterwards, at 
 verse 855, pain has totally exhausted the 
 strength and spirits of Philoctetes, and it is ne- 
 cessary for the plot of the tragedy that he 
 should fall asleep, it is then that the chorus 
 breaks out into an exquisite ode to sleep. As 
 in the Antigone, with equal heauty and deco- 
 rum in an address to the god of love, at verse 
 791 of that play. And thus, lastly, when the 
 birth of QEdipus is doubtful, and his parents 
 unknown, the chorus suddenly exclaims, '' Tj? 
 (TE, r£Kvov, Tt? <r {\iy\i rm fxxx^cumuv ; &C. From 
 which, O my son, of the immortal gods, didst 
 thou spring ? Was it some nymph, a favourite of 
 Pan, that haunts the mountains, or some daugh- 
 ter of Apollo, (for this god loves the remote 
 rocks and caverns,) who bore you? Or was it 
 Mercury, who reigns in Cyllcne ? or did Bac- 
 chus, 
 
 One may here observe by the way, that the ancients thought 
 bodily pains, and wounds, &c. proper objects to be represented 
 on the stage. See also the Trachiniai of Sophocles, and the 
 lamentations of Hercules in it.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 73 
 
 cllUS, 0fOf voiiuv ITT ax^m o^ewi/, a gocl wllO dwells 
 
 on the tops of the mountains, beget you, on 
 any of the nymphs that possess Helicon, with 
 whom he frequently sports?* 
 
 The judicious author of the Tragedy of El- 
 frida, hath given occasion to a kind of con- 
 troversy among the more curious critics, con- 
 cerning the utility of the chorus, which, after 
 the model of the ancients, he hath endea- 
 voured to revive. That the great Grecian 
 masters retained it only out of respect to its 
 antiquity, and from no intrinsic valuableness 
 or propriety of the thing, can scarcely be ima- 
 gined. The sentiments of the judicious Brumoy 
 are moderate and rational, and seem to com- 
 prehend all that is necessary to be said on this 
 subject. " I know (says he) the chorus is at- 
 tended with inconveniences. Sophocles had the 
 address to withdraw his chorus for a few mo-' 
 mcnts, when their absence was necessary, as in 
 the Ajax. If the chorus, therefore, incommodes 
 the poet, anrl puts him under difficulties, he 
 must charge it solely to his own want of dex- 
 terity, 
 
 * O/^TT. rvpacv. 1118.
 
 74 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 terity. What advantage, on the other hand, 
 may he not reap from a body of actors that 
 fill the stage ; that render more Hvely, strik- 
 ing, and sensible, the continuity of the action, 
 and give it the air of greater probability? 
 For it is not natural, or conceivable, that a 
 o-reat and illustrious action, such as a revolu- 
 tion in a state, should pass without witnesses. 
 We perceive and feel a kind of void on the 
 stage, on account of the absence of the cho- 
 ruses ; and the successful attempt of Racine, 
 who adopted and revived the use of them in 
 his Athalia and Esther, were sufficient, one 
 would imagine, to undeceive, and convince us 
 of their importance and utility. The ancients 
 treated only of such stories as were publicly 
 transacted : now the banishment of the chorus 
 has been the necessary consequence of the 
 custom of the moderns, in taking for their 
 representations all kinds of subjects, and in 
 filling and overcharging the action with inci- 
 dents and surprises. For how could these va- 
 rious crowded events and incidents have been 
 possibly introduced in a public place, exposed 
 to the view of courtiers and the people; while 
 
 I the
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 75 
 
 the generality of our tragedies turn on parti- 
 cular and private affairs, removed from the 
 view and notice of all men ? The Athenian 
 spectators were ever accustomed to concern 
 themselves in all public affairs, and to be Avit- 
 nesses and judges of them. The modern stage, 
 by its disuse of the chorus, may, perhaps, have 
 gained a great number of fine subjects for tra- 
 gedy ; yet, in return, it is burthened with 
 confidents, it loses the continuity of action, 
 and is deprived of the magnificent spectacle 
 that serves to support that continuity, and 
 which is, if I may be allowed the expression^ 
 the accompagnient of the picture."* 
 
 I thought it more equitable, as well as more 
 convincing, to quote at large the \vords of 
 this admirable critic, whose work is one of 
 the most valuable that his elegant nation has 
 produced, than to adopt, as some have done> 
 with sniall variations, his opinion, without ac- 
 knowledging the debt. An apology would be 
 
 necessary 
 
 * Le Theatre de Grecs. Tom. i. 104. and 21 k and 198.
 
 76 ZSSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 necessary for this digression, if it was not my 
 professed design, in this Essay, to expatiate 
 into such occasional disquisitions as naturally 
 arise from the subject : it has, however, kept us 
 too long from surveying a valuable literary curio- 
 sity ; I mean the earliest production of Pope, 
 written when he was not twelve years old, his 
 Ode on Solitude. 
 
 Tlie first sketches of such an artist ought 
 highly to be prized. Different geniuses unfold 
 themselves at different periods of life. In some 
 minds the ore is a long time in ripening. Not 
 only inclination, but opportunity and encou- 
 ragement, a proper subject, or a proper patron, 
 influence the exertion or the suppression of ge- 
 nius. These stanzas on Solitude, are a strong 
 instance of that contemplative and moral turn 
 which was the distinguishing characteristic of 
 our poet's mind. An ode of Cowley, which he 
 produced at the age of thirteen years, is of the 
 same cast, and perhaps not in the least inferior to 
 this of Pope. The voluminous Lopez de Vega, 
 is commonly, but perhaps incredibly, reported 
 
 by
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 77 
 
 by the Spaniards, to have composed verses when 
 lie was * five years old ; and Torquato Tasso, 
 the second or third of the Italian poets, (for that 
 wonderful original, Dante, is the first,) is said to 
 have recited poems and orations of his own 
 writing when he was seven. It is, however, cer- 
 tain, which is more extraordinary, that he pro- 
 duced his Rinaldo in his eighteenth year; no bad 
 precursor to the Gierusalemma Liberata ; and 
 no small effort of that genius, which was, in due 
 time, to shew, how fine an epic poem the Ita- 
 lian language, notwithstanding the vulgar im- 
 putation of effeminacy, was capable of support- 
 ing- 1 
 
 Those who are fond of biographical anecdotes, 
 which are some of the most amusive and instruc- 
 tive parts of history, will be, perhaps, pleased 
 with the following particulars in the life of Pope. 
 He frequently declared, that the time of his begin- 
 ning to write verses was so very early in his life, 
 that he could scarcely recall it to his memory. 
 
 When 
 
 * It is a certain fact, that S. Eononcini composed and per- 
 formed an opera when he was but nine years old. 
 
 t But the Italians, in general, prefer Ariosto to Tasso.
 
 73 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 When he was yet a child, his father, who had 
 been a merchant in London, and retired to Bin- 
 iield with about twenty thousand pounds, would 
 frequently order him to make English verses. It 
 seems he was difficult to he pleased, and Avould 
 make the lad correct them again and again. 
 When at last he approved them, he took great 
 pleasure in perusing them, and would say, 
 " These are good rhymes." These early praises 
 of a tender and respected * parent, co-operating 
 ■with the natural inclination of the son, mio-ht 
 possibly be the causes that fixed our young bard 
 in a resolution of becoming eminent in this art. 
 He was taught to read very early by an aunt; 
 and of his own indefatigable industry, learned to 
 write, by copying printed books, which he exe- 
 cuted M'ith great neatness and accuracy. When 
 he was eight years old, he was put under the 
 direction of one Taverner, a priest, who taught 
 him the rudiments of the Latin and Greek 
 tongues together. About this time he acciden- 
 tally met with Ogilby's translation of Homer, 
 
 M'hich, 
 
 * Most of these circumstances were communicated by Pope 
 himself to Mr. Spence.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 79 
 
 which, notwithstanding the deadness and insi- 
 pidity of the versification, arrested his atten- 
 tion by the force of the story. The Ovid of 
 Sandys fell next in his way ; and it is said, that 
 tlie raptures these translations gave him were 
 so strong, that he spoke of them with pleasure to 
 the period of his life. About ten, being now at 
 school at Hyde-Park-Corner, whither he went 
 from a Popish seminary to Twiford, near Win- 
 chester, he was carried sometimes to the play- 
 house ; and being struck, we may imagine, with 
 theatrical representations, he turned the chief 
 events into a kind of play, made up of a number 
 of speeches from Ogilby's translation, connected 
 with verses of his own. He persuaded the upper 
 boys to act this piece, M'hich, from its curiosity, 
 one would have been glad to have beheld. The 
 master's gardener represented the character of 
 Ajax ; and the actors were dressed after the pic- 
 tures of his favourite Ogilby ; far the best part 
 of that book, as they M'ere designed and en- 
 graved by artists of note. At twelve, he retired 
 with his father into Windsor- Forest ; and it was 
 there he first perused the writings of Waller, of 
 
 Spenser,
 
 80 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Spenser, and of Dryden.* Spenser is said to 
 have made a poet of Cowley : that Ogilby should 
 give our author his first poetic pleasures, is a re- 
 markaijle circumstance. On the first sight of 
 Dryden, he abandoned the rest, having now 
 found an author whose cast was exactly conge- 
 nial with his own. His works, therefore, he stu- 
 died with equal pleasure and attention : he placed 
 them before his eyes as a model ; of which more 
 will be said in the course of these papers. He 
 copied not only his harmonious versification, but 
 the very turns of his periods. It was hence he 
 was enabled to give to rhyme all the harmony of 
 which it is capable. 
 
 About this time, M'hen he was f fifteen years 
 old, he began to write his Alcander, an epic 
 poem, of which he himself speaks with so much 
 
 amiable 
 
 * I was informed by an intimate friend of Pope, that when 
 he was yet a mere boy, Dryden gave him a shilling, by way 
 of encouragement, for a translation he had made of the story 
 of Pyramus and Thisbe from Ovid. 
 
 f Nee placet ante annos vates puer : omnia justo 
 Tempore proveniant. — Vidae Poet. I. i
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 81 
 
 amiable frankness and ingenuity, in a passage 
 restored to the excellent preface before his works. 
 " I confess there was a time when I was in love 
 with myself, and my first productions were the 
 children of self love upon innocence. I had 
 made an epic poem, and panegyrics on all the 
 princes of Europe, and I thought myself the 
 greatest genius that ever was. I cannot but re- 
 gret these delightful visions of my childhood, 
 which, like the fine colours we see when our eyes 
 are shut, are vanished for ever." Atterbury had 
 perused this, early piece, and, we may gather 
 from one of his letters, advised him to burn it ; 
 though he adds, " I Avould have interceded for 
 the first page, and put it, with your leave, among 
 my curiosities." I have been credibly informed, 
 that some of the anonymous verses, quoted as 
 examples of the Art of Sinking in Poetry, in the 
 incomparable satire so called, were such as our 
 poet remembered from his own Alcandek. So 
 sensible of its own errors and imperfections is a 
 mind truly great, 
 
 QuiNTiLiAN", whose knowledge of human na- 
 ture was consummate, has observed, that no- 
 vo l. I. G thing
 
 82 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 tiling quite correct and faultless, is to be ex- 
 pected in very early years, from a truly elevated 
 genius ; that a generous extravagance and exu- 
 berance are its proper marks ; and that a pre- 
 mature exactness is a certain evidence of future 
 flatness and sterility. Plis words are incompara- 
 ble, and worthy consideration.* " Audeat haec 
 a^tas plura, et inveniat, et inventis gaudeat, 
 sint licet ilia non satis interim sicca et severa. 
 Facile remedium est ubertatis, sterilia nullo la- 
 bore vincuntur. Ilia mihi in pueris natura ni- 
 mium spei dabit, in qua ingenium judicio pras- 
 sumitur. Materiam esse primum volo vel abun- 
 dantiorem, atque ultra quam oportet fusam. 
 Multum inde decoquent anni, multuni ratio li- 
 mabit, aliquid velut usu ipso deteretur, sit modo 
 unde excidi possit et quod exculpi : erit autem, 
 si non ab initio tenuem laminam duxerimus, et 
 quam cailatura altior rumpat — Quare mihi ne ma- 
 turitas quidem ipsa fcstinct, nee musta in lacu 
 statim austera sint; sic et annos ferent, et ve- 
 tustate proficient." This is very strong and mas- 
 culine sense, expressed and enlivened by a train 
 
 of 
 
 * lib. ii. Instit. Cap. 4. ad init.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 83 
 
 of metaphors, all of them elegant, and well pre- 
 served. Whether these early productions of 
 Pope would not have appeared to Quintilian to 
 be rather too finished, correct, and pure, and 
 what he would have inferred concerning them, is 
 too delicate a subject for me to enlarge upon. 
 Let me rather add an entertaining anecdote. 
 When Guido and Domenichino had each of them 
 painted a picture in the church of Saint Andrew, 
 Annibal Carrache, their master, was pressed to 
 declare which of his two pupils had excelled. 
 The picture of Guido represented Saint Andrew 
 on his knees before the cross ; that of Domeni- 
 chino represented the flagellation of the same 
 apostle. Both of them in their different kinds 
 were capital pieces, and were painted in fresco, 
 opposite each other, to eternize, as it were, their 
 rivalship and contention. "Guido (said Carrache) 
 has performed as a master, and Domenichino as a 
 scholar. But (added he) the work of the scholar 
 is more valuable than that of the master." In 
 truth, one may perceive faults in the pictures of 
 Domenichino that Guido has avoided ; but then 
 there are noble strokes not to be found in that 
 of his rival. It was easy to discern a genius that 
 G 2 promised
 
 84 essaV on the genius 
 
 promised to produce beauties, to which the sweet, 
 the gentle aud the graceful Guido would never 
 aspire. 
 
 The last piece that belongs to this section, is 
 the QPE entitled The dying Christian to his 
 Soul, written in imitation of the well known 
 sonnet of Hadrian, addressed to his departing 
 spirit; concerning which it was our author's ju- 
 dicious opinion, that the diminutive epithets with 
 which it abounds, such as Vagula, Blandula, 
 were by no means expressions of levity and in- 
 difference, but rather of endearment, of tender- 
 ness and concern. This ode was written, we 
 find, at the desire of Steele ; and our poet, in a 
 letter to him on that occasion, says, " You have 
 it, as Cowley calls it, just warm from the brain ; 
 it came to me the first moment I waked this 
 morning; yet you'll see it was not so absolutely 
 inspiration, but that I had in my head not only 
 the verses of Hadrian, but the fine fragment of 
 
 Sappho/'* 
 
 It 
 
 * In Loiiglnus, sect. 10. quoted by him, as a model of that 
 Sublime which combines together many various and opposite 
 
 passions and sensations, " hx //.>? iv rt ira-Qos (paiv^ai, irxBut 5; 
 2TN0A0Z."
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 85 
 
 It is possible, however, that our author 
 might have had another composition in his head, 
 besides those he here re fcrs to ; for there is a 
 close and surprising resemblance* between this 
 ode of Pope, and one of an obscure and for- 
 gotten rhymer of the age of Charles the Second, 
 namely, Thomas Flatman ; from whose dunghill, 
 as well as from the dregs of f Crashaw^, of Ca- 
 rcw, of Herbert, and others, (for it is well known 
 he was, a great reader of all those poets,) Pope 
 has very judiciously collected gold. And the 
 following stanza is perhaps the only valuable one 
 FlatmanJ has produced ; 
 
 When on my sick bed I languish. 
 Full of sorrow, full of anguish. 
 Fainting, gasping, trembling, crying. 
 Panting, groaning, speechless, dying; 
 JVIethinks I hear some gentle spirit say. 
 Be not fearful, come away ! 
 
 G 3 The 
 
 * See The Adventurer, vol. II. 2d ed. p. 230. 
 published 1753. 
 
 f Crashaw has very well translated the Dies Irae, to which 
 translation Roscommon is much indebted, in his Poem on the 
 Day of Judgment. 
 
 i Of whom says Lord Rochester, 
 
 Not
 
 86 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 The third and fourth lines are eminently good 
 and pathetic, and the chmax well preserved ; the 
 very turn of them is closely copied by Pope ; as 
 is likewise the striking circumstance of the dying 
 man's imagining he hears a voice calling him 
 away : 
 
 Vital spark of heavenly flame. 
 Quit, O quit, this mortal frame; 
 Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying; 
 O the pain, the bliss of dying ! 
 Hark ! they whisper I angels say. 
 Sister spirit, come away ! 
 
 I am sensible of the difficulty of distinguishing 
 resemblances from thefts ; and well know, that 
 a want of seeming originaHty arises frequently, 
 not from a barrenness and timidity of genius, 
 but from invincible necessity, and the nature of 
 things : that the works of those who profess an 
 art, whose essence is imitation, must needs be 
 stamped with a close resemblance to each other, 
 since the objects material or animate, extraneous 
 
 or 
 
 Not that slow drudge in swift Pindaric strains, 
 Fiatman, who Cowley imitates with pains. 
 And rides a jaded muse, whipt, with loose reins.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 87 
 
 or' internal, which they all imitate, lie equally 
 open to the observation of all, and are perfectly 
 similar. Descriptions, therefore, that are faith- 
 ful and just, MUST BE UNIFORM AND ALIKE'. 
 
 the first copier may be, perhaps, entitled to the 
 praise of priority ; but a succeeding one ought 
 not certainly to be condemned for plagiarism. 
 
 These general observations, however true, do 
 not, I think, extend to the case before us ; be- 
 cause not only the thoughts, but even the words, 
 are copied ; and because the images, especially the 
 last, are such as are not immediately impressed 
 by sensible objects, and which, therefore, on ac- 
 count of their singularity, did not lie in com- 
 mon for any poet to seize. Let us, however, 
 moderate the matter, and say, what, perhaps, is 
 the real fact, that Pope fell into the thoughts of 
 Flatman unawares, and without design ; and ' 
 having formerly read him, imperceptibly adopted 
 this passage, even without knowing that he had 
 borrowed it. That this will frequently happen, 
 is evident from the following curious particulars 
 related by ^lenage, which, because much has 
 been said of late on this head by many writers of 
 G 4 criticism,
 
 88 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 criticism, I shall here insert. *' I have often 
 heard M. Chapelain, and M. Dandilly, declare, 
 that they wrote the following line : 
 
 D' arbitres de la paixj de foudres de la guerre, 
 
 without knowing it was in Malherbe ; and the 
 moment I am making this remark, recollect that 
 the same thing happened to M. Furetire. I have 
 often heard Corneille declare, that he inserted in 
 his Polyeucte, two celebrated lines concerning 
 fortune, without knowing they were the property 
 of M. Godeau, Bishop of Vence ; 
 
 Et comme elle a 1' eclat du Verre 
 EUe en a la fragilite - 
 
 Godeau had inserted them in an ode to Cardinal 
 Richlieu, fifteen years before Polyeucte was writ- 
 ten. Porphyry, in a fragment of his book on 
 Philology, quoted by Eusebius, in the tenth book 
 of his Evangelical Preparation, makes mention 
 of an author, named Aretades, mIio composed 
 an entire treatise on this sort of resemblances. 
 And St. Jerome relates, that his preceptor, Do- 
 natus, explaining that sensible passage in Terence, 
 
 " Nihil
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 89 
 
 ** Nihil est dictum quod non sit dictum prius,'* 
 railed severely at the ancients, for taking from 
 him his hest thoughts ; " Pereant qui ante nos, 
 nostra dixerunt."* 
 
 Menage makes these observations on occasion 
 of a passage in the Poetics of Vida, intended to 
 justify borrowing the thoughts, and even expres- 
 sions, of others, which passage is very applicable 
 to the subject before us : 
 
 As:pice ut exuvias, veterumque insignia, nobis 
 Aptemus ; reruni accipimus nunc clara reperta. 
 Nunc seriem atq ; animum verborum, verba quoque ipsa; 
 Nee pudet inteidum altciius nos ore locutos.f 
 
 Menage adds, that he intended to compile a re- 
 gular treatise on the thefts and imitations of the 
 poets. As his reading was very extensive, his 
 work would probably have been very entertain- 
 ing. For surely it is no trivial amusement, to 
 trace an applauded sentiment or description to its 
 
 source, 
 
 * Auti-Baillet, torn. ii. pag. 207. 
 f Lib. iii. V. 255.
 
 §0 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 source, and to remark, with what* judgment 
 and art it is adapted and inserted ; provided this 
 be done Avith such a spirit of modesty and can- 
 dour, as evidently shews, the critic intends 
 merely to gratify curiosity, and not to indulge 
 envy, malignity, and a petulant desire of de- 
 throning established-)" reputations. Thus, for in- 
 stance, says the Rambler, " It can scarcely be 
 doubted, that in the first of the following pas- 
 sages. Pope remembered Ovid ; and that in the 
 second,:]: he copied Crash aw ; because there is a 
 concurrence of more resemblances than can be 
 imagined to have happened by chance. 
 
 Saepe pater dixit, studlum quid inutile tentas? 
 
 Maeonides nuUas ipse reliquit opes 
 
 Sponte sua carmen numeros veniebat ad aptos, 
 
 Et quod conabar scribere, versus erat. 
 
 Ovid. 
 
 I left 
 
 * Dryden says prettily of Ben Jonson's many imitations 
 •f the ancients, " You track him every where in their snow." 
 
 f See the fruitless and impudent attack of Lauder on Milton. 
 
 + The Works of Cardinal Bembo, and of Casa, of Annibal 
 Caro, and Tasso himself, are full of entire lines taken from 
 Dante and Petrarch. 
 1
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 91 
 
 I left no calling for this idle trade. 
 
 No duty brokO, no father disobey 'd ; 
 
 While yet a child, e'er yet a fool to fame, 
 
 I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came. Pope. 
 
 This plain floor. 
 
 Believe me, reader, can say more 
 
 Than many a braver marble can. 
 
 Here lies a truly honest man. Crashaw. 
 
 This modest stone, what few vain marbles can. 
 May truly say, " here lies an honest man." 
 
 Pope.* 
 
 Two other critics have also remarked some far- 
 ther remarkable coincidences of Pope's thought 
 and expressions, with those of other writers, 
 whicli are here inserted, as they cannot fail of 
 entertaining* the curious. 
 
 Pride, malice, folly, against Dryden rose. 
 
 In various shapes of parsons, critics, beaus. Pope. 
 
 L'ignorance, et 1' erreur a ses naissantes pieces,f 
 En habits de marquis, en robes de comtesses, 
 Venoient pour diffamer son chef d'ceuvre nouveau. 
 
 ~ BOILEAU. 
 
 Superior 
 * Rambler, No. 113. 
 
 f Of Moliere.
 
 ^2 ESSAY ON THE GENIU$ 
 
 Superior beings, when of late they saw 
 A mortal man unfold all Nature's law, 
 AdmirM such wisdom in an earthly shape^ 
 And shew'd a Newton as we shew an ape. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Simia coelicolum risusque jocusque deorum est. 
 Tunc homo, quum temere ingenio confidit, et audet 
 Abdita naturae scrutari, arcanaque divum. 
 
 Palfngenius. 
 
 •— — — Happily to steer 
 
 From grave to gay, from lively to severe. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 — — — D' une voix legere 
 ** Passer du grave au doux, du plaisant au severe. 
 
 BOILEAU. 
 
 The conclusion of the epitaph on Gay, where he 
 observes, that his honour consists not in being 
 entombed among kings and heroes, 
 
 But that the worthy and the good may say. 
 Striking their pensive bosoms, here lies Gay, 
 
 is adopted from an old Latin elegy on the death 
 of Prince Henry. This conceit of his friend's 
 being enshrined in the hearts of the virtuous, is, 
 
 by
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPEi 93 
 
 by the way, one of the most forced, and far- 
 fetched, that Pope has fallen into.* 
 
 Jonson, as another critic has remarked, wrote 
 an Elegy on the Lady Anne Pawlet, Marchioness 
 of Winton ; the beginning of which Pope seems 
 to have thought of, when he wrote his Verses to 
 the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Jonson 
 begins his elegy. 
 
 What gentle ghost, besprent with April devr, 
 Havles me so solemnly to yonder yew ? 
 And beckoning woes me— — — .f 
 
 In which strain Pope beautifully breaks out, 
 
 What beck'ning ghost along the moonlight shade. 
 Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade ? 
 ^Tis she ! 
 
 As Jonson now lies before me, I may, perhaps, 
 be pardoned for pointing out another passage in 
 
 him, 
 
 * See the Adventurer, No. 63, where other borrowed pas- 
 sages are pointed out, particularly from Pascal, Charron, and 
 Wollaston. 
 
 f In the underwood.
 
 g4 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 him, which Pope probably remembered when 
 he wrote the following : 
 
 From shelves to shelves, see greedy Vulcan roll. 
 And lick up all their physic of the soul.* 
 
 Thus Jonson, speaking of a parcel of books, 
 
 These, hadst thou pleasM either to dine or sup. 
 Hade made a meale for Vulcan to lick up.f 
 
 I should be sensibly touched at the injurious 
 imputation of so ungenerous, and, indeed, im- 
 potent a design, as that of attempting to dimi- 
 nish or sully the reputation of so valuable a wri- 
 ter as Pope, by the most distant hint, or accu- 
 sation of his being a plagiary ; a writer to whom 
 the English poesy, and the English language, is 
 everlastingly indebted. But we may say of his 
 imitations, what his poetical father, Dryden, said 
 of another, who deserved not such a panegyric 
 so justly as our author: " He invades au^ 
 
 THORS LIKE A MONARCH; AND WHAT WOULD 
 
 BE 
 
 * Dunciad. 
 
 f See Observations on the Faerie Queene of Si'ensek, 
 by Thomas Warton, sect. vii. p. 160.
 
 AND WRIl'lNGS OF POPE. QS 
 
 BE THEFT IN OTHER POETS, IS ONLY VICTORY 
 
 IN HIM."* For, indeed, he never works on the 
 same subject with another, M'ithout heightening 
 the piece with more masterly strokes, and a 
 more artful pencil. Those who flattered them- 
 selves, that they should diminish the reputation 
 of Boileau, by printing, in the manner of a com- 
 mentary at the bottom of each page of his works, 
 the many lines he has borrowed from Horace and 
 Juvenal, were grossly deceived. The verses of 
 the ancients, which this poet hath turned into 
 French with so much address, and which he 
 hath happily made so liomogeneous, and of a 
 piece with the rest of the work, that every thing 
 seems to have been conceived in a continued 
 train of thought by the very same person, confer 
 as much honor on M. Despreaux as the verses 
 which are purely his own. The original turn 
 which he gives to his translations, the boldness 
 of his expressions, so little forced and unnatural, 
 that they seem to be born, as it were, with his 
 thoughts, display almost as much invention as 
 the first production of a thought entir^.iy new. 
 
 . This 
 
 * On Dram. Poesy, p. 61.
 
 Q6 essay on the'genius 
 
 Tliis induced La Bruyere to say, " Que Des- 
 preaux paroissoit creer les pensees d' autrui.'* 
 Both he and Pope might have answered their* 
 accusers, in the words with which Virgil is said 
 to have rephed to those who accused him of bor- 
 rowing all that was valuable in his ^neid from 
 Homer, " Cur non illi quoque eadem furta 
 
 TENTARENT? VERUM INTELLECTUROS, FACILIUS 
 
 ESSE Herculi clavum, quam Homero VER- 
 
 SUM, SURRIPERE/'-f 
 
 SECTION 
 
 * The Jesuits, that wrote the journals of Trevoux, strongly 
 object plagiarism to Boileau. 
 
 f Donat. in Vit. Virgil.
 
 And writings of pope. 97 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 OF THE ESSAY ON CRITICISM, 
 
 W £ are now arrived at a poem of tliat species, 
 for which our author's genius was particularly 
 turned, the didactic and the moral; it is, 
 therefore, as might be expected, a master-piece 
 in its kind. I have been sometimes inclined to 
 think, that the praises Addison has bestowed on 
 it, were a little partial and invidious. " The ob- 
 servations (says he) follow one another hke those 
 in Horace's Art of Poetry, without that metho- 
 dical regularity which would have been requisite 
 in a prose writer."* It is, however, certain, that 
 the poem before us is by na means destitute of a 
 just integrity, and a lucid order : each of the 
 precepts and remarks naturally introduce the suc- 
 voL. I. H ceeding 
 
 * Spectator, Nd. 253.
 
 <)8 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 ceeding ones, so as to form an entire whole. The 
 intrenious Dr. Hurd hath also endeavoured to 
 shew, that Horace observed a strict method, and 
 unity of design, in his Epistle to the Pisones ; 
 and that, although the connexions are delicately 
 fine, and almost imperceptible, like the secret 
 hinges of a well-wrought box, yet they artfully 
 and closely unite each part together, and give 
 coherence, uniformity and beauty to the work. 
 The Spectator adds, " The observations in this 
 essay are some of them uncommon. " There is, I 
 f^ar, a small mixture of ill-nature in these 
 words : for this Essay, though on a beaten sub^ 
 ject, abounds in many new remarks, and ori- 
 ginal rules, as well as in many happy and beau- 
 tiful illustrations, and applications, of the old 
 ones. We are, indeed, amazed to find such a 
 knowledge of the world, such a maturity of judg- 
 ment, and such a penetration into human nature, 
 as are here displayed, in so very young a writer 
 as was Pope when he produced this Essay, for 
 he was not twenty years old. Correctness, and 
 a just taste, are usually not attained but by long 
 practice and experience in any art ; but a clear 
 head, and strong sense, were the characteristical 
 1 qualities
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 99 
 
 qualities of our author ; and every man soonest 
 displays his radical excellencies. If his predo- 
 minant talent be warmth and vigor of imagina- 
 tion, it will break out in fanciful and luxuriant 
 descriptions, the colouring of which will, per- 
 haps, be too rich and glowing. If his chief 
 force lies in tfte understanding rather than in the 
 imagination, it will soon appear by solid and 
 manly observations on life or learning, expressed 
 in a more chaste and subdued style. The former 
 Avill frequently be hurried into obscurity or tur- 
 gidity, and a false grandeur of diction ; the lat- 
 ter will seldom hazard a figure, whose usage is 
 not already established, or an image beyond com- 
 mon life ; will always be perspicuous, if not ele- 
 vated ; will never disgust, if not transport, his 
 readers ; will avoid the grosser faults, if not ar- 
 rive at the greater beauties, of composition. The 
 *' eloquentia; genus," for which he will be dis- 
 tinguished, will not be the " plenum et erectum, 
 et audax, et prsecelsum," but the " pressum, et 
 mite, et limatum."* In the earliest letters of 
 Pope to Wycherly, to Walsh,, and Cromwell, we 
 H 2 find 
 
 * Quintil. 1. xi. c. 1.
 
 100 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 find many admirable and acute judgments of men 
 and books, and an intimate acquaintance not 
 only with some of the best Greek and Roman, 
 particularly the latter, but the most celebrated of 
 the French and Italian classics. 
 
 Du Bos* fixes the period of time at which, ge- 
 nerally speaking, the poets and the painters have 
 arrived at as high a pitch of perfection as their 
 geniuses will permit, to be the age of thirty 
 years, or a few years more or less. Virgil was 
 near thirty when he composed his first Eclogue. 
 Horace was a grown man when he began to be 
 talked of at Rome as a poet, having been for- 
 merly engaged in a busy military life. Racine 
 was about the same age when his Andromache, 
 which may be regarded as his first good tragedy, 
 was played. Corncille was more than thirty 
 when his Cid appeared. Despreaux was full 
 thirty when he published his satires, such as we 
 now have them. Moliere was full forty when he 
 wrote the first of those comedies on which his 
 reputation is founded. But to excel in this spe- 
 cies 
 
 * Sect. X. 2.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 101 
 
 cics of composition, it was not sufficient for Mo- 
 liere to be only a great poet ; it was rather ne- 
 cessary for him to gain a thoroMj^h, knowl'e-ilge of 
 men and the world, which is scklom attained so 
 early in life ; but Avithout which, the best poet 
 would be able to write but very indifferent come- 
 dies. Congreve, however, was but nineteen when 
 he wrote his Old Bachelor. Raphael M^as about 
 thirty years old when he displayed the beauty 
 and sublimity of his genius in the Vatican ; for 
 it is there we behold the first of his works that 
 are worthy the great name he at present so de- 
 servedly possesses. When Shakespear wrote his 
 Lear, Milton his Paradise Lost, Spenser his 
 Fairy Queen, and Dry den his Music Ode, 
 they had all exceeded the middle age of man. 
 
 From this short review^ it appears, that few 
 poets ripened so early as Pope; who seems lite- 
 rally and strictly to liave fulfilled the precept of 
 Horace in each of its circumstances ; 
 
 Miilta tulit, fecitque Puer. 
 
 He was laborious and indefatigable in his pur- 
 suits of learning ; 
 
 H 3 ■ — Sud^vit
 
 102 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 — — — Sudavit et alsit. 
 
 And, above all, ivliat is of the greatest conse- 
 quence in presciving each faculty of the mind in 
 due vigour, 
 
 Abstinuit venere et vino.— ■ 
 
 These are the two temptations to which a youth- 
 ful bard is principally subject, and into whose 
 snares he generally falls. If the imagination be 
 lively, the passions will be strong. True genius 
 seldom resides in a cold and phlegmatic constitu- 
 tion. The same temperament, and the same sen-* 
 sibihty, that makes a poet or a painter, will be 
 apt to make a man a lover and a debauchee. 
 Pope was happily secured from these common 
 failings, the bane of so many others, by the 
 weakness and delicacy of his body, and the bad 
 state of his health. The sensual vices were too vio- 
 lent for so tender a frame ; he never deviated into 
 a course of intemperance and dissipation. May 
 I add, that even his bodily make was of use to 
 him as a writer ; for one, who was acquainted 
 with the heart of man, and the secret springs of 
 
 our
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 103 
 
 our actions, has observed with great penetration, 
 *' * It is good to consider deformity, not as a 
 signe, which is more deceivable, but as a cause, 
 which seldom faileth of the effect. AVhosoever 
 hath any tiling fixed in his person, that doth in- 
 duce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in him- 
 self, to rescue and deliver himself from scorne." 
 I do not think it improbable, that this circum- 
 stance might animate our poet to double his dili- 
 gence to make himself distinguished : and hope 
 I shall not be accused, by those who have a 
 knowledge of human nature, of assigning his 
 desire of excellence to a motive too mean and 
 sordid, as well as too weak and inefficacious, to 
 operate such an effect. 
 
 What crops of wit and honesty appear. 
 
 From spleen, from obstinacy, hate, or fear ! 
 
 See anger, zeal, and fortitude, supply, 
 
 Ev'n Avarice, prudence ; Sloth, philosophy ; 
 
 Nor virtue male or female can we name. 
 
 But what will grow on pride, or grow on shame. f 
 
 H4. It 
 
 * Bacon's Essays, xliv. 
 t Essay on Man, ep. ii. v. 185.
 
 104 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 It was another circumstance, equally propitious 
 to the studies of Pope in this early part of his 
 life, that he inherited a fortune that was a decent 
 competence, and sufficient to supply the small 
 expenses, which, both by constitution and re^ 
 flection, he required. He had no occasion to 
 distract his thoughts by being solicitous, " de 
 lodice paranda ;" he needed not to wait, 
 
 - — Pour diner, le succes d'un sonnet.* 
 
 His father retired from business, at the Revolu" 
 tion, to a little covenient box at Binfield, near 
 Oakingham, in Berkshire ; and having converted 
 his effects into money, is said to have brought 
 with him into the country almost twenty thousand 
 pounds. As he was a Papist, he could not pur- 
 chase, nor put his money to interest on real se- 
 curity ; and as he adhered to the interests of King- 
 James, he made a point of conscience not to lend 
 it to the new government ; 
 
 For right hereditary tax'd and fin'd. 
 He stuck to poverty with peace of mind 
 
 *^ Boileau, Art. Poet. c. 4. 
 
 he
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 105 
 
 he therefore kept tliis sum in his chest, and 
 hved upon the principal, till by that time his son 
 came to the succession, a great part of it was 
 consumed. There was, however, enough left to 
 supply the occasions of our author,* and to keep 
 him from the two most destructive enemies to a 
 young genius, want and dependence. " I can 
 easily conceive, (says a late moralist,) that a 
 mind occupied and overwhelmed with the weight 
 and immensity of its own conceptions, glancing 
 with astonishing rapidity from heaven to earth, 
 and from earth to heaven, cannot willingly submit 
 to the dull drudgery of examining the justness 
 and accuracy of a butcher's bill. To descend 
 from the widest and comprehensive views of na- 
 ture, 
 
 * He afterwards acquired a considerable fortune by his 
 translation of the Iliad, which was published for his own be- 
 nefit, by a subscription so large, that it does honour to this 
 Kingdom. Mr. Warburtnn informs us, that he sold it to Lintot, 
 the bookseller, on the following terms : twelve hundred pounds 
 paid down, and all the books for his subscribers. The Odyssey 
 "was published in the same manner, and sold on the same con- 
 ditions, except only, that instead of twelve, he had but six 
 hundred pounds. He was assisted in this latter work by Brome 
 and Fenton, to the first of whom he gave six hundred pounds, 
 and to the latter three hundred. This translation has proved 
 a good estate to the bookseller.
 
 106 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 ture, and weigh out hops for a brewing, must 
 be invincibly disgusting to a true genius ; to 
 be able to build imaginary palaces of the most 
 exquisite architecture, but yet not to pay a 
 carpenter's bill, is a cutting mortification and 
 disgrace.* 
 
 On the other hand, opulence, and high sta- 
 tion, would be equally pernicious and unfavour- 
 able to a young genius ; as they would almost 
 unavoidably embarrass and immerse him in the 
 cares, the pleasures, the indolence, and the dis- 
 sipation, that accompany abundance. And, per- 
 haps, the fortune most truly desirable, and the 
 situation most precisely proper for a young poet, 
 are marked out in that celebrated saying of 
 Charles the Ninth of France, " Equi et poetaj 
 ALENDi sunt, non saginandi." — Poets and 
 horses are to be fed, and not fattened. 
 
 The Essay on Criticism, which occasioned 
 the introduction of these reflections, was first, I 
 am well informed, written in prose, according 
 
 to 
 
 * The Adventurer, No. 50.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 107 
 
 to the precept of Vida, and the practice of 
 Racine.* 
 
 Quinetiam, prius effigiem formare, solutis, 
 Totiusque operis simulacrum fingere, verbis, 
 Proderit ; atque omnes ex ordine nectere partes, 
 Et seriem rerum, et certos sibi ponere fines. 
 Per quos tuta regens vestigia tendere pergas.f 
 
 When Racine had fixed on a subject for a play, 
 he wrote down in plain prose, not only the sub- 
 ject of each of the five acts, but of every scene, 
 and every speech ; so that he could take a view 
 of the whole at once, and see whether every 
 part cohered, and co-operated to produce the in- 
 tended event : when his matter was thus regu- 
 larly disposed, he was used to say, '* My Tra- 
 gedy is finished." 
 
 I now 
 
 * The younger Racine^ in the life of his father, informs 
 us, that he used to say, he dared not touch "any of the subjects 
 which Sophocles had handled, and abstained from imitating 
 them from his great veneration of the original. And that this 
 was the reason why he rather imitated Euripides than Sopho- 
 cles ; as in the Phaedra, Andromache, Iphigenia. 
 
 f Poetic, lib. i. ver. 75.
 
 108 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 I now propose to make some observations on, 
 and illustrations of, such passages and precepts 
 in this Essay, as, on account of their utility, 
 novelty, or elegance, deserve particular atten- 
 tion ; and, perhaps, I may take the freedom to 
 hint at a few imperfections in this sensible per- 
 formance. I shall cite the passages in the natural 
 order in which they successively occur. 
 
 1. In poets as true genius is but rare.* 
 
 It is, indeed, so extremely rare, that no coun- 
 try in the succession of many ages, has produced 
 above three or four persons that deserve the 
 title. The " man of rhymes" may be easily 
 found ; but the genuine poet, of a lively plastic 
 imagination, the true maker or creator, is so 
 uncommon a prodigy, that one is almost tempted 
 to subscribe to the opinion of Sir William Tem- 
 ple, where he says, " That of all the numbers of 
 mankind that live within the compass of a thou- 
 sand years, for one man that is born capable of 
 
 making 
 
 * Ver. ] 1 .
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. lOQ 
 
 making a great poet, there may be a thousand 
 born capable of making as great generals, or mi- 
 nisters of state, as the most renowned in story."* 
 There are, indeed, more causes required to con- 
 cur to the formation of the former, than of the 
 latter, which necessarily render its production 
 more difficult. 
 
 2. True taste as seldom is the critic's share. f 
 
 La Bruyere says very sensibly, " I will 
 allow the good writers are scarce enough ; but 
 then, I ask, where are the ped{3le that know how 
 to read ?" 
 
 3. Let such teach others who themselves excel. 
 And censure freely who have Avritten well.X 
 
 It is somewhere remarked by Dry den, I think, 
 that none but a poet is qualified to judge of a 
 poet. The maxim is, however, contradicted by 
 experience. Aristotle is said, indeed, to have 
 written one ode ; but neither Bossu nor Hurd are 
 poets. The penetrating author of tlie Reflec- 
 tions 
 
 * Miscall. Essay iv. part. 2. f Ver. 12. t Ver. 15.
 
 110 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 tions on Poetry, Painting, and Music, will for 
 ever be read with delight, and with profit, by all 
 ingenious artists; " Nevertheless, (says Voltaire,) 
 he did not understand music, could never make 
 verses, and was not possessed of a single pic- 
 ture ; but he had read, seen, heard, and re- 
 flected a great deal."* And Lord Shaftesbury 
 speaks with some indignation on this subject : 
 *' If a musician performs his part well in the 
 hardest symphonies, he must necessarily know 
 the notes, and understand the rules of harmony 
 and music. But must a man, therefore, who has 
 an ear, and has studied the rules of music, of 
 necessity, have a voice or hand ? Can no one 
 possibly judge a fiddle, but who is himself a 
 fiddler? Can no one judge a picture, but who 
 is himself a layer of colours ?"| Quintilian and 
 Pliny, who speak of the works of the ancient 
 painters and statuaries with so much taste and 
 sentiment, handled not themselves either the 
 pencil or the chissel, nor Longinus and Diony- 
 sius the harp. But although such as have ac- 
 tually 
 
 * Louis XIV. p. 354. 
 t Characteristics. Vol. 3. p. 190. Edit. 12mo,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. Ill 
 
 tually performed nothing in the art itself, may 
 not, on that account, be totally disqualified to 
 judge with accuracy of any piece of workman- 
 ship, yet, perhaps, a judgment will come with 
 more authority and force from an artist him- 
 self. Hence the connoisseurs highly prize the 
 treatise of Rubens concerning the imitation of 
 antique statues, the Art of Painting by Leonardo 
 da Vinci, and the Lives of the Painters by Va- 
 sari. As for the same reasons, Rameau's Disser- 
 tation on the thorough Bass, and the Introduc- 
 tion to a good Taste in Music, by the excellent, 
 but neglected, Geminiani, demand a particular 
 regard. The prefaces of Dry den would be 
 equally valuable, if he did not so frequently con- 
 tradict himself, and advance opinions diametri- 
 cally opposite to each other. Some of Corneille's 
 discourses on his own tragedies are admirably 
 just. And one of the best pieces of modern cri- 
 ticism, the academy's observations on the Cid, 
 was, we know, the work of persons who had 
 themselves written well. And our author's own 
 excellent preface * to his translation of the Iliad, 
 
 one 
 
 * Yet our author was not satisfied with this preface : he 
 used to say it was too pompous and poetical ; too much on tht; 
 
 great
 
 112 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 one of the best pieces of prose in the Enghsh 
 language, is an example how well poets are qua^ 
 lified to be critics. 
 
 4. Some neither can for wits nor critics pass. 
 As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass ; 
 Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,- 
 As halt-form'd insects on the banks of Nile ; 
 Unfinished things, one knows not what to call. 
 Their generation's so equivocal.* 
 
 These lines, and those preceding and follow- 
 ing them, are excellently satirical ; and were, I 
 think, the first we find in his works, that give 
 an indication of that species of poetry to which 
 his talent was most powerfully bent, and in 
 which, though not as we shall see in others, he 
 excelled all mankind.* The simile of the mule 
 
 heightens 
 
 great horse, was his expression; and preferred his postscript to 
 the Odyssey ; and often talked of the excellence of Dryden's- 
 prose style. 
 
 * Ver. 3S. 
 
 f Atterbury and Bolingbroke had the very same opinion of 
 the bent and turn of our author's genius. The former, on 
 reading the famous character of Addison, wrote thus to his 
 friend : Let. 12. " Since you now, therefore, know where 
 
 your
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 113 
 
 heightens the satire, and is new ; as is the appli- 
 cation of the insects of the Nile. Pope never 
 shines so brightly as when he is proscribing bad 
 authors. 
 
 5. — In the soul while memory prevails. 
 The solid pow'r of understanding fails: 
 Where beams of bright imagination play. 
 The memory's soft figures melt away.* 
 
 I hardly believe there is in any language, a 
 metaphor more appositely applied, or more ele- 
 gantly expressed, than this of the effects of the 
 warmth of fancy. Locke, who has embellished 
 his dry subject with a variety of pleasing simili- 
 tudes and allusions, has a passage, relating to 
 the retentiveness of the memory, so very like 
 this before us, and so happily worded, that I 
 cannot forbear giving the reader the pleasure of 
 
 VOL. I. I comparing 
 
 your real strength lies, I hope you will not suffer that talent to 
 lie unemployed." And Bolingbroke, speaking of his didactic 
 works, says to Swift, Let. 44, 1729, "This flatters my judg- 
 ment ; who always thought that^ universal as his talents are. 
 This is eminently and peculiarli/ His, above all writers I know, 
 living or dead : I do not except Horace." 
 
 * Ver. 56.
 
 114 -ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 comparing them together ; only premising, that 
 these two passages are patterns of the manner in 
 which the metaphor should be used, and of the 
 method of preserving it unmixed with any other 
 idea, and not continuing it too far. " Our 
 minds represent to us those tombs to which we 
 are approaching ; where, though the brass and 
 marble remain, yet the inscriptions are effaced 
 by time, and the imagery moulders away. How 
 much the constitution of our bodies are con- 
 cerned in this, and whether the temper of the 
 brain makes this difference, that in some, it 
 retains the characters drawn on it like marble, 
 in others like freestone, and in others httle better 
 than sand, I shall not here enquire ; though it 
 may seem probable, that the constitution of the 
 body does sometimes influence the memory; 
 since we sometimes find a disease quite strip the 
 mind of all its ideas ; and the flames of a fever, 
 in a few days, calcine all those images to dust 
 and confusion, which seemed to be as lasting as 
 if graved in marble."* 
 
 AVith 
 * Essay concerning Human Understanding, ch. x. sect. 5.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 115 
 
 Witli respect to the truth of this observation 
 of Pope, experience abundantly evinceth, that 
 the three great faculties of the soul here spoken 
 of, are seldom found united in the same person. 
 There have yet existed but a few transcendent 
 geniuses, vwho have been singularly blest with 
 this rare assemblage of different talents. All 
 that I can at present recollect, who have at once 
 enjoyed, in full vigor, a sublime and splendid 
 imagination, a solid and profound understand- 
 ing, an exact and tenacious memory, are He- 
 rodotus, Plato, Tally, Livy, Tacitus, Galilseo, 
 Bacon, Des Cartes, Malebranche, Milton, Bur- 
 net of the Charter-house, Berkeley, and ]VIontes- 
 quieu. Bacon, in his Novum Organum, divides 
 the human genius into two sorts : " Men of dry 
 distinct heads, cool imaginations, and keen ap- 
 plication ; they easily apprehend the differences 
 of thino's, are masters in controversy, and excel 
 in confutation; and these are the most common. 
 The second sort of men, of warm fancies, ele- 
 vated thought, and wide knowledge ; they in- 
 stantly perceive the resemblances of things, and 
 are poets or masters in science, invent arts, and 
 strike out new light wherever they carr}^ their 
 
 I 2 views."
 
 116 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 views."* This general observation has in it all 
 that acuteness, comprehension and knowledge 
 of man, which so eminently distinguished this 
 philosopher. 
 
 6. One science only will one genius fit ; 
 So vast is artj so narrow human wit. 
 Not only bounded to peculiar arts. 
 But oft in those confiu'd to single parts. f 
 
 When TuUy attempted poetry, he became as 
 ridiculous as Bolingbroke when he attempted 
 philosophy and divinity. We look in vain for 
 that genius Avhich produced the Dissertation on 
 Parties, in the tedious philosophical works ; of 
 which it is no exaggerated satire to say, that 
 the reasoning of them is sophistical and incon- 
 clusive, the style diffuse and verbose, and the 
 learning seemingly contained in them not drawn 
 from the originals, but picked up and purloined 
 from French critics and translations ; and par- 
 ticularly from Bayle, from Rapin, and Thomassin, 
 (as perhaps may be one day minutely shewn,) 
 together with the assistances which our Cudworth 
 
 and 
 
 ' * Page 40. f Ver. 60.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 117 
 
 and Stanley happily aftbrded a writer confessedly 
 ignorant of the Greek tongue, who has yet the 
 insufferable * arrogance to vilify and censure, 
 and to think he can confute, the best writers in 
 
 that best language. 
 
 When 
 
 * I cannot forbear subjoining a passage of an excellent 
 writer, and accomplished scholar, which is so very apposite to 
 the present purpose, that one would think the author had Bo- 
 lingbroke in his eye, if his valuable work had not been pub- 
 lished before the world was blessed with the First Philosophy. 
 " He who pretends to discuss the sentiments of Pythagoras, 
 Plato, Aristotle, or any one of the ancient philosophers, or 
 even to cite and translate him, (except in trite and obvious 
 sentiments,) v\ithout accurately knowing the Greek tongue in 
 general ; the nice differences of many words, apparently sy- 
 nonymous ; the peculiar style of the author whom he presumes 
 to handle ; the new-coined words, and new significations 
 given to old words, used by such author and his sect, the whole 
 philosophy of such sect ; together with the connections and de- 
 pendencies of its several parts, whether logical, ethical, or 
 physical; he, I say, that, without this previous preparation, 
 attempts what I have said, will shoot in the dark; will be liable 
 to perpetual blunders; will explain, and praise, and censure, 
 merely by chance; and though he may possibly to fools ap- 
 pear AS A WISE MAN, WILL CERTAINLY AMONG THE WISE EVER 
 
 PASS FOR A FOOL. Such a man's intellect comprehends ancient 
 philosophy, as bis eye comprehends a distant prospect. He 
 may see, perhaps, enough to know mountains from plains, and 
 seas from woods ; but for an accurate discernment of particu- 
 lars, and their character, this, without farther helps, 'tis im- 
 possible he should attain." Hermes, by Harris; Book ii. 
 chap iii. p. 270,
 
 118 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 When Fontaine (whose tales indicated a truly 
 comic genius) brought a comedy on the stage, 
 it was received with a contempt equally unex- 
 pected and deserved. Terence has left us no 
 tragedy ; and the Mourning Bride of Congreve, 
 notwithstanding the praises bestowed on it by 
 Pope in the Dunciad,* is certainly a despicable 
 performance; the plot is unnaturally intricate, 
 and overcharged with incidents ; the sentiments 
 trite, and the language turgid and bombast. 
 Heemskirk and Teniers could not succeed in a 
 serious and sublime subject of history-painting. 
 The latter, it is well known, designed cartoons 
 for tapestry, representing the history of the Tur- 
 riani of Lombardy. Both the composition and 
 the expression are extremely indifferent ; and 
 certain nicer virtuosi have remarked, that in the 
 serious pieces of Titian himself, even in one of 
 his Last Suppers, a circumstance of the Ridicu- 
 lous and the Familiar is introduced, which suits 
 not with the dignity of his subject. Hogarth's 
 picture of Richard III. is pure, and unmixed 
 with any dissimilar and degrading circumstances, 
 
 and 
 
 * B. iii. V. 310. In the notes;
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 119 
 
 and strongly impresses terror and amazement. 
 The modesty and good sense of the ancients is, 
 in this particnlar, as in others, remarkahle. The - 
 same writer never presumed to undertake more 
 than one kind of dramatic poetry, if we except 
 the Cyclops of Euripides. A poet never pre- v^ 
 sumed to plead in puhlic, or to write history, or, 
 indeed, any considerable work in prose. The 
 same actors never recited tragedy and comedy : 
 this was observed long ago by Plato, in the 
 third book of his Republic They seem to 
 have held tliat diversity, nay, universality, of 
 excellence, at which the moderns frequently aim, 
 to be a gift unattainable by man. We, there- 
 fore, of Great Britain, have, perhaps, more rea- 
 son to congratulate ourselves on two very singu- 
 lar phenomena; I mean Shakespeare's bein^L,.^ 
 able to pourtray characters so very different as/ 
 Falstaff and Macbeth ; and Garrick's being 
 able to personate so inimitably a Lear or an 
 Abel Drugger. Nothing can more fully de- 
 monstrate the extent and versatility of these two 
 original geniuses. Corneille, whom the Frencji 
 are so fond of opposing to Shakespeare, pro- 
 duced very contemptible comedies; and the 
 1 4 Plaideures
 
 120 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Plaideures of Racine is so close a resemblance 
 of Aristophanes, that it ought not to be here 
 urged. The most universal of authors seems to 
 be Voltaire, who has written almost equally well 
 both in prose and verse ; and whom either the 
 tragedies of Merope and Mahomet, or the 
 History of Louis XIV. or Charles XII. would 
 alone have immortalized. 
 
 7. Those rules of old, discover'd, not devis'd. 
 Are nature still, but nature methodiz'd : 
 Nature, like liberty, is but restrain'd 
 By the same laws which first herself ordain'd.* 
 
 The precepts of the art of poesy were posterior 
 to practice ; the rules of the Epopea were all 
 drawn from the Iliad and the Odyssey ; and of 
 Tragedy, from the (Edipus of Sophocles. A 
 petulant rejection, and an implicit veneration, of 
 the rules of the ancient critics, are equally de- 
 structive of true taste. " It ought to be the 
 first endeavour of a writer (says the excellent 
 Rambler^) to distinguish nature from custom ; 
 or that which is established, because it is right, 
 
 from 
 
 * Ver. 88. f No. 156,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 121 
 
 from that which is riglit, only because it is esta- 
 blished ; that he may neither violate essential 
 principles, by a desire of novelty, nor debar 
 himself from the attainment of any beauties 
 within his view, by a needless fear of breaking 
 rules, where no literary dictator had authority to 
 prescribe." 
 
 This liberal and manly censure of critical bi- 
 gotry, extends not to those fundamental and in- 
 dispensable rules which nature and necessity dic- 
 tate, and demand to be observed ; such, for in- 
 stance, as in the higher kinds of poetry, that 
 the action of the epopea be one, great, and en- 
 tire ; that the hero be eminently distinguished, 
 move our concern, and deeply interest us ; that 
 the episodes arise easily out of the main fable ; 
 that the action commence as near the catastrophe 
 as possible : and, in the drama, that no more 
 events be crowded together, than can be justly 
 supposed to happen during the time of represen- 
 tation, or to be transacted on one individual spot, 
 and the like. But the absurdity here animad- 
 verted on, is the scrupulous nicety of those Avho 
 bind themselves to obey frivolous and unimpor- 
 tant
 
 122 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 tant laws ; such as, that an epic poem should 
 consist not of less than twelve books ; that it 
 should end fortunately ; that in the first book 
 there should be no simile ; that the exordium 
 should be very simple, and unadorned : that in a 
 tragedy, only three personages should appear at 
 once upon the stage ; and that every tragedy 
 should consist of five acts ; by the rigid observa- 
 tion of which last unnecessary precept, the poet 
 is deprived of using many a moving story, that 
 would furnish matter enough for three, perhaps, 
 but not for five acts ; with other rules of the like 
 indifferent nature. For the rest, as Voltaire ob- 
 serves,*^ whether the action of an epopea be sim- 
 ple or complex, completed in a month or in a 
 year, or a longer time ; whether the scene be 
 fixed on one spot, as in the Iliad ; or that the 
 hero voyages from sea to sea, as in the Odyssey ; 
 whether he be furious, like Achilles, or pious, like 
 Eneas ; whether the action pass on land or sea ; 
 on the coast of Africa, as in the Luziada of Ca- 
 moens ; in America, as in the Araucana of Alon- 
 ?.o D'Ercilla; in heaven, in hell, beyond the li- 
 mits 
 
 * Essay sur laPocsie Epique, pag. 339. torn. i.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 123 
 
 m'lts of our world, as in tlie Paradise Lost ; all 
 these circumstances are of no consequence : the 
 poem will be for ever an Epic poem, an Heroic 
 poem ; at least, till another new title be found 
 proportioned to its merit. " If you scruple 
 (says Addison) to give the title of an Epic poem 
 to the Paradise Lost of Milton, call it, if you 
 choose, a divine poem : give it whatever name 
 you please, provided you confess, that it is a 
 work as admirable in its kind as the Iliad." 
 
 8. Hear how learn'd Greece her useful rules indites. 
 When to repress and when indulge our flights.* 
 
 In the second part of Shaftesbury's Advice to 
 an Author, is a judicious and elegant account of 
 the rise and progress of arts and sciences in an^ 
 cient Greece ; to subjects of which sort, it were 
 to be wished this author had always confined 
 himself, as he indisputably understood them well, 
 rather than have blemished and belied his patri- 
 otism, by writing against the religion of his coun- 
 try. I shall give the reader a passage that re- 
 lates to the origin of criticism, which is curious 
 2 and 
 
 * Ver. 92.
 
 124 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 and just. " When the persuasive arts, which 
 were necessary to be cultivated among a people 
 that were to be convinced before they acted, 
 were grown thus in repute, and the power of 
 moving the affections become the study and emu- 
 lation of the forward wits and aspiring geniuses 
 of the times, it would necessarily happen, that 
 many geniuses of equal size and strength, though 
 less covetous of public applause, of power, or of 
 influence over mankind, would content them- 
 selves with the contemplation merely of these en- 
 chanting arts. These they would the better en- 
 joy, the more they refined their taste, and cul- 
 tivated their ear. Hence was the origin of Cri- 
 tics ; who, as arts and sciences advanced, would 
 necessarily come withal into repute; and being 
 heard with satisfaction in their turn, were at 
 length tempted to become authors, and appear 
 in public. These were honoured with the name 
 of Sophists ; a character M^hich in early times was 
 highly respected. Nor did the gravest philoso- 
 phers, who M'ere censors of manners, and critics 
 of a higher degree, disdain to exert their criti- 
 cism on the inferior arts ; especially in those re- 
 lating to speech, and the power of argument and 
 
 persuasion.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 125 
 
 persuasion. When such a race as tliis was once 
 risen, 'twas no longer possible to impose on man- 
 kind, by what was specious and pretending. The 
 public would be paid in no false wit, or jingling 
 eloquence. Where the learned critics were so well 
 received, and philosophers themselves disdained 
 not to be of the number, there could not fail to 
 arise critics of an inferior order, who would sub- 
 divide the several provinces of this empire."* 
 
 9. Know well each Ancient's proper character; 
 His fable, subject, scope, in every page ; 
 Religion, country, genius of his age.f 
 
 From their inattention to these particulars, 
 many critics, and particularly the French, have 
 been guilty of great absurdities. When Perrault 
 impotently attempted to ridicule the first stanza 
 of the first Olympic of Pindar, he was ignorant 
 that the poet, in beginning with the praises of 
 Water,:]: alluded to the philosophy of Thales, 
 who taught that water was tlie principle of all 
 things ; and which philosophy, Empedocles, the 
 
 Sicilian, 
 
 * Characteristics, vol. I. 12mo. pag. 1G3. f Ver. 119. 
 :}: Aqtsov (Atv TAilP.
 
 1Q6 essay on the genius 
 
 Sicilian, a cotemporary of Pindar, and a subject 
 of Hiero, to whom Pindar wrote, had adopted 
 in his beautiful poem. Homer, and the Greek 
 tragedians, have been hkewise censured : the 
 former for protracting the IHad after the death of 
 Hector; and the latter, for continuing the Ajax 
 and Phoeniss.e, after the deaths of their respec- 
 tive heroes. But the censurers did not consider 
 the importance of burial among the ancients ; 
 and that the action of the Iliad would have been 
 imperfect without a description of the funeral 
 rites of Hector and Patroclus ; as the two trage- 
 dies, without those of Polynices and Eteocles : 
 for the ancients esteemed a deprivation of sepul- 
 ture to be a more severe calamity than death it- 
 self. It is observable, that this circumstance 
 did not occur to Pope,* when he endeavoured to 
 justify this conduct of Homer, by only saying, 
 that, as the anger of Achilles does not die with 
 Plector, but persecutes his very remains, the 
 poet still keeps up to his subject, by describing 
 the many effects of his anger, 'till it is fully sa- 
 tisfied ; and that for this reason, the two last 
 
 books 
 
 * Iliad xxiii. Note I.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. Id/ 
 
 books of tlic Iliad may be tliouglit not to be 
 excrescences, but essential to the poem. I will 
 only add, that I do not know an author whose 
 capital excellence suffers more from the reader's 
 not regarding his climate and country, than the 
 incomparable Cervantes. There is a striking- 
 propriety in the madness of Don Quixote, not 
 frequently taken notice of; for Thuanus informs 
 us, that MADNESS is a common disorder amono* 
 the Spaniards at the latter part of life, about the 
 age of which the knight is represented. *' Sur 
 la fin de ses jours Mendozza devint furieux, com- 
 me sont d' ordinaire les Espagnois.''* 
 
 10. Still with itself compar'd, his text peruse. 
 
 And let your comment be the Mantuan Muse.f 
 
 Although, perhaps, it may seem impossible to 
 produce any new observations on Homer and 
 "\lrgil, after so many volumes of criticism as 
 have been spent upon them, yet the following 
 remarks have a novelty and penetration in them 
 
 tliat 
 
 * Perroniana et Thuana, a Cologne, 169.5, pag. 431. 
 t Ver. 128.
 
 128 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 that may entertain ; especially, as the little trea- 
 tise from which they are taken is extremely scarce. 
 *' Quce varia3 inter se notse atque imagines animo- 
 rum, aprincipibusutriusquepopuli poetis, Homero 
 et Virgilio, mirific^ exprimuntur. Siquidem Ho- 
 meri duces et reges rapacitate, libidine, atque 
 anihbus questibus, lacrymisque puerilibus, Grse- 
 cam levitatem et inconstantiam referunt. Vir- 
 giHani vero principes, ab eximio poeta, qui Ro- 
 man£e severitatis fastidium, et Latinum superci- 
 lium verebatur, et ad heroum populum loqueba- 
 tur, ita componuntur ad majestatem consularem, 
 lit quamvis ab Asiatica mollitie luxuque venerint, 
 inter Furios atque Claudios nati educatique vide- 
 antur. Neque suam, ullo actu, ^neas originem 
 prodidisset, nisi, a pracfactiore aliquanto pietate, 
 fudisset crebro copiam lacrymarum. — Qua melio- 
 rem expressione morum hac eetate, non mode 
 Virgilius Latinorum poetaium princeps, sed 
 quivis inflatissimus vernaculorum, Homero prse- 
 fertur : cum hie animos proceribus indurit suos, 
 ille vTro alienos. — Quamobrem varietas morum, 
 qui carmine reddebantur, et hominum ad quos 
 ea dirigebantur, inter Latinam GrEccamque poe- 
 sin, non inventionis tantum attulit, sed et elocu- 
 
 tionis
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 129 
 
 tionis discrimeii illucl, quod praccipue inter Ho- 
 merum et Virgilium deprelienditur ; cum senten- 
 tias et ornamenta quce Honierus sparserat, Vir- 
 gilius, Romanorum arium causa, contraxerit ; 
 atque ad mores et ingenia retulerit eorum, qui a 
 poesi non petebant publicam aut privatam insti- 
 tutionem, quam ipsi Marte suo invenerant ; sed 
 tantum delectationem."* Blackwell, in his ex- 
 cellent Enquiry into the Life and Writings of 
 Homer, has taken many observations from this 
 valuable book, particularly in his twelfth Section. 
 
 1 1. Some beauties yet no precepts can declare. 
 For there's a happiness, as well as care. 
 Music resembles poetry ; in each 
 Are nameless graces, which no methods teach, 
 - — . And which a master-hand alone can reach.f 
 
 Pope in this passage seems to have remember- 
 ed one of the essays of Bacon, of which he is 
 known to have been remarkably fond. ** There 
 is no excellent beauty, that hath not some strange- 
 
 voL. I. K ness 
 
 * J. Vincentii Gravinae de Poesi, ad S. MaflTeium Epist. 
 Added to his treatise entitled, Delia Ragion Poetica. In Na- 
 poli. 1716. pag. 239,250. 
 
 t Ver. 141.
 
 130 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 ness ill the proportion. A man cannot tell whe- 
 ther Apelles or Albert Dnrer were the more tri- 
 fler : whereof the one would make a personage 
 by geometrical proportions ; the other, by taking 
 the best parts out of divers faces, to make one 
 excellent. Such personages, I think, would 
 please nobody, but the painter that made them. 
 Not but I think, a painter may make a better 
 face than ever was ; but he must do it by a kind 
 of felicity, as a musician that maketh an excel- 
 lent ayre in music, and not by rule. A man shall 
 see faces, that, if you examine them, part by 
 part, you shall find never a good one ; and yet 
 altogether doe well."* 
 
 12. Thus Pegasus^ a nearer way to take. 
 
 May boldly deviate from the common track ; 
 From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part. 
 And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art, 
 Which, without passing thro' the judgment, gains 
 The heart, and all its ends at once obtains.f 
 
 Here 
 
 * Essay xliii. On Beauty. 
 
 f Ver. 150. These lines were thus printed in Dr. Warbur- 
 ton's quarto edition, 1743, page 16; and again in the octavo 
 edition made use of in this work, 1752.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 131 
 
 Here is evidently a blameable mixture of me- 
 taphors, where the attributes of the horse and 
 the writer are confounded. Tlie former may 
 justly be said to " take a nearer way, and to 
 deviate from a track ;" but liow can a horse 
 *' snatch a grace," or " gain the heart ?" 
 
 IS. Some figures monstrous and mishapM appear, 
 Consider'd singly, or beheld too near. 
 Which, but proportion'd to their light, or place. 
 Due distance reconciles to form and grace.* 
 
 By this excellent observation, delivered in a 
 beautiful metaphor, all the faults imputed to Ho- 
 mer may be justified. Those who censure what 
 is called the crossness of some of his images, 
 may please to attend to the following remark of 
 a writer, by no means prejudiced in favour of 
 the ancients. " Quant a ce qu'on appelle gros- 
 siERETE dans les h^ros d'Homere, on pent rire 
 tant qu'on voudra de voir Patrocle, au neuvi^me 
 livre de I'lliade, mettre trois gigots de moutoii 
 dans une marmite, allumer et souffler le feu, et 
 preparer le diner avec Achille : Achille et Patrocle 
 
 K 2 n en 
 
 * Ver. 171. 
 
 ^.
 
 132 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 n'en sont pas moins ^clatans. Charles XII. Roi de 
 Su^de, a fait six mois sa cuisine a Demir-Tocca, 
 sans pcrdre rien de son heroisme ; et la pliipait 
 de nos generaux qui portent dans iine campe tout 
 le luxe dune cour effeminee, auront bien de la 
 pein a egaler ces lieros, qui faisoient leur cuisine 
 eux-memes. En un mot, Homere avoit a re- 
 presenter un Ajax et un Hector; non un courtisan 
 de Versailles, ou de Saint James."* 
 
 1 i. A prudent chief not always must display 
 His pow'rs in equal rank, and fair array. f 
 
 The same mav be said of music : concerninq; 
 which, a discerning- judge has lately made the 
 following observation. '* I do not mean to af- 
 firm, that in this extensive work (of Marcello) 
 every recitative, air, or chorus, is of equal excel- 
 lence. A continued elevation of this kind no 
 author ever came up to. Nay, if we consider 
 that variety, which in all arts is necessary to keep 
 lip attention, we may, perhaps, affirm, with truth, 
 
 that 
 
 * Voltaiie, Essay sur la Poesie Epique. Les Oeuvres, 
 Tom. ii. pag. 354-, 3d5. This Essay is very different from 
 what formerly appeared in England. 
 
 t Ver. 175.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 133 
 
 that INEQUALITY makcs a part of the character 
 of excellence; that something ought to he thrown 
 into shades, in order to make the lights more 
 striking. And, in this respect, Marcello is truly 
 excellent : if ever he seems to fall, it is only to 
 RISE with more astonishing majesty and great- 
 ness."* It may be pertinent to subjoin Roscom- 
 mon's remark on the same subject. 
 
 Far the greatest part 
 
 Of what some call neglect, is stiidy'd art. 
 
 When Virgil seems to trifle in a line, 
 
 'Tis but a warning-piece, which gives the sign 
 
 To wake your fancy, and prepare your sight 
 
 To reach the noble height of some unusual flight. f 
 
 15. Hail bards triumphant born in happier days.j 
 
 Doctor Warburton is of opinion, tliat " there 
 is a pleasantry in this title, which alludes to the 
 state of warfare that all true genius must un- 
 dergo while here on earth." Is not this inter- 
 pretation of the word triumphant very far-fetched, 
 and foreign to the author's meaning ? who, I 
 K 3 conceive, 
 
 * Avison's Essay on INlusical Expression, edit. ii. page 103. 
 t Essay on Trans!. Verse. + Ver. 189.
 
 134 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 conceive, used the word to denote merely the 
 TRIUMPH which arose ^xom superiority. 
 
 10. The last, the meanest of your sons inspire.* 
 
 "This word/^5/, (says the same commentator,) 
 spoken in his early youth, as it were by chance, 
 seems to have been ominous.*^ I am not per- 
 suaded that all true genius died with Pope : for 
 one would be tempted to think, that the Seasons 
 of Thomson, the Leonidas of Glover, the Plea- 
 sures of Imagination and the Odes of Akenside, 
 the Night-Thoughts of Young, the Elegy of 
 Gray, and Ode on Eton College, the truly pa- 
 thetic Monody on Lady Lyttelton, together with 
 many Pieces in Dodsley's Miscellanies, were not 
 published when Dr. Warburton delivered this in- 
 sinuation of a failure of poetical abilities. 
 
 17. So pleasM at first the tow'ring Alps we try. 
 
 Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky ; 
 Th' eternal snows appear already past. 
 And the first clouds and mountains seem the last; 
 But, those attain'd, we tremble to survey 
 The growing labours of the lengthen'd way; 
 
 Til* 
 * Ver. 196,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 135 
 
 Til' increasing prospect tires our wand 'ring eyes; 
 Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise.* 
 
 Tliis coinparison is frequently mentioned as 
 an instance of the strength of fancy. The 
 images, however, appear too general and indis- 
 tinct, and the last line conveys no new idea to 
 the mind. The following picture in Shafteshur}^, 
 on the same sort of subject, appears to be more 
 full and striking. " Beneath the mountain's 
 foot, the rocky country rises into hills, a proper 
 basis of the ponderous mass above ; where huge 
 embodied rocks lie piled on one another, and 
 seem to prop the high arch of heaven. See ! 
 with what trembling steps poor mankind tread 
 the narrow brink of tlic deep precipices ! From 
 whence with giddy honor they look down, mis- 
 trusting even the ground that bears them ; whilst 
 they hear the hollow sound of torrents under- 
 neath, and see the ruin of the impending rock ; 
 with falling trees, which hang with their roots 
 upwards, and seem to diaw more ruin after 
 them."|^ See the picturesque description of An- 
 K 4 nibal 
 
 * Ver. 225. 
 f The Moralists. Characteristics, vol. ii. page 2J3.
 
 136 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 nibal passing the Alps, in Livy, who is a great 
 poet. 
 
 IS. A perfect judge will read each work of wit 
 With the same spirit that it's author writ.* 
 
 *' To be able to judge of poetry, (says Vol- 
 taire,) a man must feel strongly, must be born 
 with some sparks of that fire which animates the 
 poet whom he criticises. As in deciding upon 
 the merit of a piece of music, it is not enough, 
 it is, indeed, nothing, to calculate the propor- 
 tion of sounds as a mathematician, but we must 
 have an ear and a soul for music."'!' 
 
 19. Thus when we view some well proportion'd dome, 
 (The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O Rome !) 
 No single parts unequally surprise. 
 All comes united to th* admiring eyes ; 
 No monstrous height, or breadth, or length, appear; 
 The whole at once is bold and regular.l 
 
 This is justly and elegantly expressed; and 
 though it may seem difficult to speak of the 
 
 same 
 
 * Ver. 233. f Ubi supra, page 361. 
 
 X Ver. 247,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 137 
 
 same subject after such a description, yet Aken- 
 side has ventured, and nobly succeeded. 
 
 Mark, how the dread Pantheon stands 
 Amid the domes of modern hands ! 
 Amid the toys of idle state. 
 How simply, how severely great! 
 Then pause !* 
 
 20. Once on a time. La Mancha's knight, they say, 
 A certain bard encount'ringon the way.f — 
 
 By this short tale, Pope has shewed us how 
 much he could have excelled in telling a story of 
 humour. The incident is taken from the second 
 jiart of Don Quixote, first written by Don Alonzo 
 Fernandez de Avellanada, and afterwards trans- 
 lated, or rather imitated, and new-modelled, by 
 no less an author than the celebrated Le Sage. J 
 
 The 
 
 * Ode to L. Huntingdon. f Ver. 267. 
 
 X Le Sage generally took his plans from the Spanish writers, 
 the manners of which nation he has well imitated. Le Diable 
 Boiteux was drawn from the Diabolo Cojuelo of Guevara ; his 
 Gil Bias, from Don Gusman D'Alfarache, Le Sage made a 
 journ€y into Spain to acquaint himself wilh the Spanish cus- 
 toms. He is a natural writer, of true humour. He died in a 
 little house near Paris, where he supported himself by writing, 
 1747. He had been deaf ten years.
 
 138 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 The book is not so contemptible as some authors 
 insinuate ; it was well received in France, and 
 abounds in many strokes of humour and cha- 
 racter worthy Cervantes himself. The brevity to 
 which Pope's narration was confined, would not 
 permit him to insert the following humorous dia- 
 logue at length. " I am satisfied you'll compass 
 your design, (said the scholar,) provided you omit 
 the combat in the lists. Let him have a care of 
 that, (said Don Quixote, interrupting him ;) that 
 is the best part of the plot. But, Sir, (quoth 
 the Bachelor,) if you would have me adhere to 
 Aristotle's rules, I must omit the combat. Aris- 
 totle, (rephed the Knight,) I grant, was a man of 
 some parts ; but his capacity was not unbounded : 
 and give me leave to tell you, his authority does 
 not extend over combats in the list, M'hich are 
 far above his narrow rules. Would you suffer 
 the chaste queen of Bohemia to perish ? For how 
 can you clear her innocence? Believe me, combat 
 is the most honourable method you can pursue ; 
 and, besides, it will add such grace to your play, 
 that all the rules in the universe must not stand 
 in competition Math it. V/ell, Sir Knight, (re- 
 plied the Bachelor,) for your sake, and for the 
 2 honour
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 139 
 
 honour of chivalry, I will not leave out the com- 
 bat: and that it may appear the more glorious, 
 all the court of Bohemia shall be present at it, 
 from the princes of the blood, to the very foot- 
 men. -But still one ditTiculty remains, which is, 
 that our common theatres are not large enough 
 for it. There must be one erected on purpose, 
 (answered the Knight ;) and, in a word, rather 
 than leave out the combat, the play had better 
 be acted in a field or plain.* 
 
 21. Some to conceit alone their taste confine. 
 
 And glitt'ring thoughts struck out at every line.f 
 
 Simplicity, with elegance and propriety,;]: is the 
 perfection of style in every composition. Let us, 
 on this occasion, compare two passages from 
 Theocritus and Ovid upon the same subject. 
 The Cyclops, in the former, addresses Galatea 
 with comparisons, natural, obvious, and drawn 
 from his situation. 
 
 * Continuation of Hist, of Don Quixote, b. iii. ch. 10. 
 t Ver. 289. 
 t Ai^us Ss xftTVf <Tx(pyi Kxi (ji.r} rxtittnv stvxi. Aristot. Poet, c. 22.
 
 140 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 fi Xtvxx TacKacistot, t; rov ^iXiovC ocjto^a.W'n ; 
 "M-oay^u yxv^ohfx, (pixfuisjix o/j(,(pix>c®' uf/.x!.* 
 
 These simple and pastoral images were the most 
 proper that could occur to a Cyclops, and to an 
 inhabitant of Sicil3^ Ovid could not restrain 
 the luxuriancy of his genius, on the same occa- 
 sion, from wandering into an endless variety of 
 flowery and unappropriated similitudes, and 
 equally applicable to any other person or place. 
 
 Candidior nivei folio, Galatea, ligustri ; 
 Floridior pratis ; longa procerior alno ; 
 Splendidior vitro; tenero lascivior haedo ; 
 Laevior assiduo detritis aequore conchis ; 
 Solibus hybernis, aestiva gratior umbra ; 
 Nobilior pomis ; platano conspectior alta ; 
 Lucidior glacie; niatura dulcior uva ; 
 Mollior et cygni plumis, et lacte coacto ; 
 Et, si noil fugias, riguo formosior horto.f 
 
 There are seven more lines of comparison. 
 
 22. False eloquence, like the prismatic glass. 
 Its gaudy colours spreads on every place : 
 The face of nature we no more survey. 
 All glares alike without distinction gay.j 
 
 The 
 
 Idyll. KfxA. f Metam. xiii, 789. t Ver. 311.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 1-41 
 
 The nauseous affectation of expressing every 
 thing pompously and poetically, is no where 
 more visible than in a poem lately published, en- 
 titled Amyntou and Theodora. The follow- 
 ing instance may be alleged among many others. 
 Amyntor having a pathetic tale to discover, 
 being choaked with sorrow, and at a loss for ut- 
 terance, uses these ornamental and unnatural 
 
 O could I steal 
 
 From Harmony her softest warbled strain 
 Of melting air! or Zephyre's vernal voice I 
 Or Philomela's song, when love dissolves 
 To liquid blandishment his evening lay. 
 All nature smiling round.* 
 
 Voltaire has given a comprehensive rule with 
 respect to every species of composition : " II ne 
 faut rechercher, ni les pens^es, ni les tours, ni 
 les expressions, et que Tart, dans tons les grands 
 ouvrages, est de bien raisonner, sans trop faire 
 d'argument ; de bien peindre, sans vouloir tout 
 peindre; d'^mouvoir, sans vouloir toujours exci- 
 ter les passions. f 
 
 23. Some 
 * Cant. 3. ver. 82. f Oeuvres, torn. iii. page 332.
 
 142 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 23. Some by old words to fame have made pretence.* 
 
 Quintilian's advice on this subject is a5 
 follows. " Cum sint autem verba propria, ficta, 
 translata ; propriis dignitatem dat antiquitas. 
 Namque et sanctiorem, et magis admirabilem 
 reddunt orationem, quibus non quilibet fuit usu- 
 rus : eoque ornamento acerrimi judicii Virgilius 
 unice est usus. OUi enim, et quianam, et mis, 
 et pone, pellucent, et aspergunt iilam, qu£e etiam 
 in picturis est gratissima, vetustatis inimitabilem 
 arti auctoritatem. Sed utendum niodo, nee ex 
 ultimis tenebris repetenda."t 
 
 24. Where'er you find " the cooling western breeze," 
 In the next line it " whispers through the trees."! 
 
 Trite and unvaried rhymes offend us ; not only 
 as they are destitute of the grace of novelty, 
 but as they imply carelessness in the poet, who 
 adopts what he finds ready made to his hands. 
 We have not many compositions M'here new and 
 uncommon rhymes are introduced. One or two 
 
 writers, 
 
 * Ver. 324. t Inst. Orat. lib. vii. c. 3. t Ver. 350.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 143 
 
 writers, however, I cannot forbear mentioM^ig-, 
 who have been studious of this beauty. They 
 are Parnell; Pitt, in his Translation of Vitla; 
 West, in his Pindar ; Thomson, in the Castle of 
 Indolence ; and the author of an elegant Ode to 
 Summer, published in a Miscellany entitled the 
 Union.* 
 
 25. A needless Alexandrine ends the song.-j- 
 
 Dryden was the first who introduced the fre- 
 quent use of this measure into our English he- 
 roic ; for M'e do not ever find it even in the longer 
 works of Sandys, nor in Waller. Dryden has 
 often used it very happily, and it gives a com- 
 plete harmony to many of his triplets. By scru- 
 pulously avoiding it, Pope has fallen into an un- 
 pleasing and tiresome monotony in his Iliad. 
 
 25. And praise the easy vigour of a line. 
 
 Where Denham's strength and Waller's sweetness join.t 
 
 Fenton, 
 
 * Edinburgh, 1753, l2mo. p. 81. f Ver. 356. 
 
 + Ver. 300.
 
 144 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 XoiNTON, in his entertaining observations on 
 Waller, has given us a curious anecdote concern- 
 ing the great inckistry and exactness with which 
 Waller polished even his smallest compositions. 
 " When the court was at Windsor, these verses * 
 were writ in the Tasso of her Royal Highness, at 
 Mr. Waller's request, by the late Duke of Buck- 
 inghamshire ; and I very well remember to have 
 heard his Grace say, that the author employed 
 the GREATEST PART OF A SUMMER in composing 
 and correcting them. So that, however he is ge- 
 nerally reputed the parent of those swarms of 
 insect wits who affect to be thought easy writers, 
 it is evident that he bestowed much time and care 
 on his poems, before he ventured them out of 
 his hands."! 
 
 27. True ease in writing comes from art, not chance. 
 As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.t 
 
 It is well known that the writings of Voi- 
 ture, of Sarassin, and La Fontaine, cost them 
 
 much 
 
 * Only ten in number. 
 
 f Fenton's Waller, edit. 12mo. Observations, p. 148. 
 
 i Ver. 362.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 145 
 
 much pains, and were laboured into that facility 
 for which they are so famous, with repeated al- 
 terations, and many rasures. Moliere is reported 
 to have past whole days in fixing upon a proper 
 epithet or rhyme, although his verses have all 
 the flow and freedom of conversation. This 
 happy facility, said a man of wit, may be com- 
 pared to garden-terraces, the expense of which 
 does not appear; and which, after the cost of 
 several millions, yet seem to be a mere work of 
 chance and nature. I have been informed, that 
 Addison was so extremely nice in polishing his 
 prose compositions, that, when almost a whole 
 impression of a Spectator was worked off, he 
 would stop the press, to insert a new preposition 
 or conjunction. 
 
 28. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows^ 
 
 And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; 
 
 But when loud surges lash the sounding shore. 
 
 The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar : 
 
 When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw. 
 
 The line too labours, and the words move slow ; 
 
 Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain. 
 
 Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.* 
 
 VOL. I L These 
 
 * Ver. 366.
 
 ]4(j ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 These lines are usually cited as fine examples 
 of adapting the sound to the sense. But tlij\'s 
 Pope has failed in this endeavour, has been 
 lately demonstrated by the Rambler. " The 
 verse intended to represent the whisper of the xier- 
 nal breeze, must surely be confessed not much 
 to excel in softness or volubility; and the smooth 
 stream runs with a perpetual clash of jarring con- 
 sonants. The noise and turbulence of the torrent 
 is, indeed, distinctly imaged ; for it requires 
 very little skill to make our language rough. 
 But in the lines which mention the effort of Ajax\ 
 there is no particular heaviness or delay. The 
 STJOiftness of Camilla is rather contrasted than ex- 
 emplified. Why the verse should be lengthened 
 to express speed, will not easily be discovered. 
 In the dactyls, used for that purpose by the an- 
 cients, two short syllables were pronounced with 
 such rapidit}^, as to be equal only to one long ; 
 they therefore naturally exhibit the act of pass- 
 ing through a long space in a short time. But 
 the Alexandrine, by its pause in the midst, is a 
 tardy and stately measure ; and the word unbend- 
 ing, one of the most sluggish and slow which 
 2 our
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 147 
 
 our language afFords, cannot much accelerate its 
 notion.'"* 
 
 29. Be thou the first true merit to befriend ; 
 
 His praise is lost •who stays till all commend. f 
 
 When Thomson published his Winter, 1725, 
 it lay a long time neglected, till Mr. Spence 
 made honourable mention of it in his Essay on 
 the Odyssey ; which becoming a popular book, 
 made the poem universally known. Thomson 
 always acknowledged the use of this recommen- 
 dation ; and from this circumstance, an intimacy 
 commenced between the critic and the poet, 
 which lasted till the lamented death of the lat- 
 ter, who was of a most amiable and benevolent 
 temper. 
 
 30. And such as Chaucer is shall Dryden be.t 
 
 Waller has an elegant copy of verses on the 
 mutability of the English tongue, which bears a 
 strong resemblance to this passage of Pope. 
 
 L 2 Poets 
 
 * No. 92. t Ver. 474. i Ver. 483.
 
 J4B ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Poets that lasting marble seek. 
 Must carve in Latin or in Greek ; 
 We write in sand ; our language grows^ 
 And like the tide, our work o'erflows. 
 Chaucer his sense can only boast. 
 The glory of his numbers lost ! 
 Years have defac'd his matchless strain. 
 And yet he did not ging in vain.* 
 
 To fix a language has been found, among the 
 most able undertakers, to be a fruitless project. 
 The style of the present French writers, of Cre- 
 billon, Helvetius, and Buffon, for instance, is 
 visibly different from that of Boileau and Bossuet, 
 notwithstanding the strict and seasonable injunc- 
 tions of the Academy : and the diction even of 
 such a writer as MafFei, is corrupted with many 
 words, not to be found in Machiavel or Ariosto. 
 
 31. So when the faithful pencil has desigu'd 
 Some bright idea of the master's mind. 
 When a new world leaps out at his command. 
 And ready nature waits upon his hand ; 
 When the ripe colours soften and unite. 
 And sweetly melt into just shade and light ; 
 
 When 
 
 * Of English Verse, Fenton's edit. p. 147. 12mo,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 14^} 
 
 When mellowing years their full perfection give. 
 And each bold figure just begins to live. 
 The treacherous colours the fair art betray. 
 And all the bright creation fades away.* 
 
 I have quoted these beautiful lines at length, 
 as I believe nothing was ever more happily ex- 
 pressed on the art of painting ; a subject of 
 which Pope always speaks con amore. Of all 
 poets whatever, Milton has spoken most feelingly 
 of music, and Pope of painting. The reader 
 may, however, compare the following passage of 
 Dryden on the same subject : 
 
 More cannot be by mortal art express'd. 
 But venerable age shall add the rest : 
 For Time shall wilh his ready pencil stand. 
 Retouch your figures with his ripening hand ; 
 Mellow your colours, and imbrown the tint. 
 Add every grace which Time alone can grant; 
 To future ages shall your fame convey. 
 And give more beauties than he takes away.f 
 
 If Pope has so much excelled in speaking in 
 
 the properest terms of this art, it may, perhaps, 
 
 L 3 be 
 
 * Ver. 484. f Dryden to Kneller.
 
 150 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 be ascribed to bis having practised it ;* the same 
 may be said of Milton with respect to music. It 
 may, perhaps, be wondered at, that a proficiency in 
 these arts is not now frequently found in the same 
 person. I cannot at present recollect any pain- 
 ters that were good poets ; except Salvator Rosa, 
 and Charles Yermander, of IMulbrac, in Ban- 
 ders, whose comedies are much esteemed. But 
 the satires of the former contain no strokes of 
 that fervid and wild imagination so visible in his 
 landscapes. 
 
 32. If wit so much from ign'rance undergo. f 
 
 The inconveniences that attend wit are well 
 enumerated in this excellent passage. Poets^ 
 who imagine they are known and admired, are 
 frequently mortified and humbled. Boileau going- 
 one day to receive his pension, and the treasurer 
 reading these words in his order, " The pension 
 we have granted to Boileau, on account of the 
 
 satisfaction 
 
 '^ Lord Mansfield has in his possession a great curiosity; 
 a head of Eetterton, painted by Pope, 
 
 t Ver. 508.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 151 
 
 satisfaction his works have given us," asked him 
 of what kind were his works : "Of Masonry, 
 (rephed the poet;) I am a Builder." Racine 
 always reckoned the praises of the ignorant 
 among the chief sources of chagrin ; and used 
 to relate, that an old magistrate, who had never 
 been at a play, was carried one day to his Andro- 
 maque. This magistrate was very attentive to 
 the tragedy, to which was added the Plaideurs ; 
 and going out of the theatre, he said to the au- 
 thor, " I am extremely pleased. Sir, with your 
 Andromaque ; I am only amazed that it ends so 
 gaily; J' avois d' abord eu quelque envie de 
 pleurer, mais la vue des petits chiens m' a fait 
 lire." 
 
 33. Now they who reach Parnassus' lofty crown. 
 Employ their pains to spurn some others down.* 
 
 If we can credit the reports of the arts used 
 by Addison to suppress the rising merit of Pope, 
 it must give us pain to reflect, to what mean ar- 
 tifices envy and malignity will compel a gentle- 
 pan, and a genius, to descend. It is asserted 
 
 L 4 that 
 
 * Ver. 514.
 
 152 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 that Addison discouraged Pope from inserting 
 the machinery in the Rape of the Lock ; that he 
 privately insinuated, that Pope was a Tory and 
 a Jacobite, and had a hand in writing the Ex- 
 aminers ; that Addison himself translated the first 
 book of Homer, published under Tickel's name J 
 and that he secretly encouraged Gildon to abuse 
 Pope in a virulent pamphlet, for which Addison 
 paid Gildon ten guineas. This usage supposed, 
 extorted from Pope the famous character of At- 
 ticus, which is perhaps one of the finest pieces of 
 satire extant. It is said, that when Racine read 
 his tragedy of Alexander to Corneillc, the latter 
 gave him many general commendations, but ad- 
 vised him to apply his genius, as not being adapt- 
 ed to the drama, to some other species of poetry. 
 Corneille, one would hope, was incapable of a 
 mean jealousy ; and if he gave this advice, 
 thought it really proper to be given. 
 
 34-. When love was all an easy monarch's care j 
 Seldom at council, never in a war.* 
 
 The 
 
 •%Ver;536.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 153 
 
 The dissolute reign of Charles II. justly de- 
 served the satirical proscription in this passage. 
 Under the notion of laughing at the absurd au- 
 sterities of the Puritans, it became the mode 
 to run into the contrary extreme, and to ridi- 
 cule real relio-ion and unaffected virtue. The 
 king, during his exile, had seen and admired the 
 splendor of the court of Louis XIV. and endea- 
 voured to introduce the same luxury into the 
 English court. The common opinion, that this 
 was the Augustan age in England, is excessively 
 false. A just taste was by no means yet formed. 
 What was called sheer wit, was alone studied 
 and applauded. Rochester, it is said, had no 
 idea that there could be a better poet than Cow- 
 ley. The king was perpetually quoting Hudi- 
 ! BRAS. The neglect of such a poem as the Ptla'a- 
 / dise Lost, will for ever remain a monument of 
 the bad taste that prevailed. It may be added, 
 that the progress of philological learning, and of 
 what is called the belles lettres, was, perhaps, 
 obstructed by the institution of the Royal So- 
 ciety, which turned the thoughts of men of ge- 
 nius to physical enquiries. Our style in prose 
 was but beginning to be polished ; although the 
 diction of Hobbes is sufficiently pure ; which 
 
 philosopher,
 
 JS4f £SSAY ON THE GENlUb 
 
 philosopher, and not the florid Spratt, was the 
 classic of that age. If I was to name a time 
 when the arts, and polite literature, were at their 
 height in this nation, I should mention the latter 
 end of King William, and the reign of Queen 
 Anne. 
 
 55. With mean complacence ne'er betray your trust. 
 Nor be so civil as to prove unjust.* 
 
 Our poet practised this excellent precept in his 
 conduct towards Wycherley, whose pieces he cor- 
 rected with equal freedom and judgment. But 
 Wycherley, who had a bad heart, and an insuf- 
 ferable share of vanity, and who was one of the 
 professed Wits of the last-mentioned age, was 
 soon disgusted at this candour and ingenuity of 
 Pope ; insomuch, that he came to an open and 
 ungenerous rupture with him. 
 
 36. Fear not the anger of the wise to raise ; 
 
 Those best can bear reproof who merit praise. f 
 
 The freedom and unreservedness, with which 
 Boileau and Racine communicated their works to 
 
 each 
 
 * Ver. 580. t Ver. 582.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 155 
 
 each other, is hardly to be paralleled : of which 
 many amiable instances appear in their letters, 
 lately published by the son of the latter : parti- 
 cularly in the following. " J"ai trouve que la 
 TROMPETTE & LES souRDS ctoient trop joues, 8c 
 qu'il ne falloit point trop appuyer sur votre in- 
 commodit^, moins encore chercher de Tesprit 
 sur ce sujet." Boileau communicated to his 
 friend the first sketch of his Ode on the Taking 
 Namur. It is entertaining to contemplate "a rude 
 draught by such a master ; and is no less pleasing 
 to observe the temper with which he receives the 
 objections of Racine.* " J'ai deja retouche a 
 tout cela; mais je ne veux point i'achever que je 
 n'aie re^u vos remarques, qui surement m' eclaire- 
 ront encore I'esprit." The same volume informs 
 us of a curious anecdote, that Boileauf generally 
 made the second verse of a couplet before the 
 first ; that he declared it was one of the grand 
 secrets of poetry, to give, by this means, a 
 
 greater 
 
 * Pag. 197. See also pag. 245. 191. 
 
 f A strong argument ui^ainst rhyme in general, might be 
 drawn from this strange practice of eyen so correct a writer as 
 Boileau.
 
 156 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 greater energy and meaning to his verses ; that 
 he advised Racine to follow the same method ; 
 and said on this occasion, " I have taught him 
 to rhyme with difficulty." 
 
 37. No place so sacred from such fops is barr'd. 
 
 Nor is Paul's church more safe than Paul's church-yard ; 
 Kay, fly to altars, there they'll talk you dead ; 
 For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.* 
 
 This stroke of satire is literally taken from 
 Boileau. 
 
 Gardez-vous d' imiter ce rimeur furleux. 
 Qui de ses vains Merits lecteur harmonieux 
 Aborde en recitant quiconque le salue, 
 Et poursuit de ses vers les passans dans le rue, 
 II n' est Temple si saint, des Anges respectd. 
 Qui soit contre sa muse un lieu du suret^.f 
 
 Which lines allude to the impertinence of a 
 French poet, called Du Perrier ; who, finding 
 Boileau one day at church, insisted upon repeat- 
 ing to him an ode during the elevation of the 
 host ; and desired his opinion, whether or no it 
 
 was 
 
 * Ver. 622. f Art. Poet. Chant, iv.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 15? 
 
 was in the manner of Malherbe. Without this 
 anecdote, the pleasantry of the satire would be 
 overlooked. It may here be occasionally observ- 
 ed, how many beauties in this species of writing^ 
 are lost, for want of knowing the facts to which 
 they allude. The following passage may be pro-~ 
 duced as a proof Boileau, in his excellent Epis' 
 tie to his Gardener at Anteuil, says, 
 
 Mon maitre, dirois-tu, passe pour un Docteur, 
 Et parle quelquefois mieux qu' un Pr^dicateur.* 
 
 It seems ourf author and Racine returned one 
 day in high spirits from Versailles, with two ho- 
 nest 
 
 "^ Epltre 11. 
 
 f The names of Racine, and Corneille, being often men- 
 tioned in this work, it will not be improper to add an ingeni- 
 ous parallel of their respective merits, written by Fontenelle. 
 
 I. Corneille had no excellent author before his eyes, whom 
 he could follow : Racine had Corneille. 
 
 II. Corneille found the French stage in a barbarous state, 
 and advanced it to great Perfection : Racine has not supported 
 it in the perfection in which he found it. 
 
 III. The characters of Corneille are true, though they are 
 not common : The characters of Racine are not true, but only 
 in proportion as they are common. 
 
 IV.
 
 158 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 nest citizens of Paris. As tlieir conversation was 
 full of gaiety and humour, the two citizens were 
 
 greatly 
 
 IV. Sometimes the characters of Corneille are, in some re- 
 spects, false and unnatural, because they are noble and singu- 
 lar : Those of Racine are often, in some respects, low, on ac- 
 tount of their being natural and ordinary. 
 
 V. He that has a noble heart, would chuse to resemble the 
 heroes of Corneille : He that has a little heart, is pleased to 
 lind his own resemblance in the heroes of Racine. 
 
 VI. We carry, from hearing the pieces of the One, a de- 
 sire to be virtuous : And we carry the pleasure of finding men 
 like ourselves in foibles and weaknesses, from the pieces of 
 the Other. 
 
 VII. The Tender and the Graceful of Racine is sometimes 
 to be found in Corneille : The Grand and Sublime of Corneille 
 is never to be found in Racine. 
 
 VHI. Racine has painted only the French and the present 
 age, even when he designed to paint another age, and other 
 nations : We see in Corneille, all those ages, and all those na- 
 tions, that he intended to paint. 
 
 IX. The number of the pieces of Corneille is much greater 
 than that of Racine : Corneille, notwithstanding, has made 
 fewer tautologies and repetitions than Racine has made. 
 
 X. In the passages where the versification of Corneille is 
 
 good, it is more bold, more noble, and, at the same time, as 
 
 pure and as finished as that of Racine : but it is not preserved 
 
 in this degree of beauty ; and that of Racine is always equally 
 
 supported. 
 
 XI.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 159 
 
 greatly delighted : and one of them, at parting, 
 stopt Boileau with this compliment ; " I have 
 travelled with Doctors of the Sorbonne, and even 
 with Religious ; but I never heard so many fine 
 things said before ; ew veiite vous parlez cent fois 
 mieu.v qu' un Predicateur." 
 
 It 
 
 XI. Authors inferior to Racine have written successfully 
 after him, in his own way : No author, not even Racine him- 
 self, dared to attempt, after Corneille, that kind of writing 
 which was peculiar to him. 
 
 This comparison, of the justness of which the reader is left 
 to judge, is said greatly to have irritated Boileau, the invaria- 
 ble friend and defender of Racine. It may be remarked, that 
 Boileau had mentioned Fontenelle with contempt, in a strange 
 stanza that originally concluded his Ode to the King, at pre- 
 sent omitted. These were the lines ; 
 
 J' aime mieux, nouvel Icare, 
 Dans les airs cherchant Pindare, 
 Tomber du ciel le plus haut : 
 Que lou^ de Fontenelle, 
 Razer, craintlve hirondelle. 
 La terre, comme Perault. 
 
 This ode was parodied in France ; but not with such incompa- 
 rable humour, as by our Prior, in England. 
 
 To these remarks of Fontenelle may be added what Voltaire' 
 says, with his usual vivacity and brevity : " Corneille alone 
 formed himself; but Louis XIV. Colbert, Sophocles, and 
 Euripides, all of them contributed to form Racine."
 
 150 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 It is but justice to add, that the fourteen suc- 
 ceeding verses, in the poem before us, containing 
 the character of a true Critic, are superior to 
 any thing in Boileau's Art of Poetry : from 
 which, however, Pope has borrowed many ob- 
 servations. 
 
 38. The mighty Stagirite first left the shore. 
 
 Spread all his sails, and durst the deep explore ; 
 He steer'd securely, and discover'd far. 
 Led by the light of the Maeonian star.* 
 
 A noble and just cliaracter of the first and 
 the best of critics ; and sufficient to repress the 
 fashionable and nauseous petulance of several 
 impertinent moderns, who have attempted to 
 discredit this great and useful writer. Whoever 
 surveys the variety and perfection of his produc- 
 tions, all delivered in the chastest style, in the 
 clearest order, and the most pregnant brevity, is 
 amazed at the immensity of his genius. His 
 logic, however at present neglected for those re- 
 dundant and verbose systems which took their 
 rise from Locke's Essay on the Human Under- 
 standing, 
 
 * Ver. 645.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. I6l 
 
 standing, is a mighty effort of the mind ; in 
 which are discovered the principal sources of the 
 art of reasoning, and the dependencies of one 
 thought on another ; and where, by the differ- 
 ent combinations he hath made of all the forms 
 the understanding can assume in reasoning, 
 which he hath traced for it, he hath so closely 
 confined it, that it cannot depart from them, 
 without arguing inconsequentially. His Physics 
 contain many useful observations, particularly 
 his History of Animals, which Buffon highly 
 praises ; to assist him in which, Alexander gave 
 orders, that creatures of different climates and 
 countries should, at a great expense, be brought 
 to him, to pass under his inspection. His Mo- 
 rals are, perhaps, the purest system in antiquity. 
 His Politics are a most valuable monument of the 
 civil wisdom of the ancients ; as they preserve to 
 us the description of several governments, and 
 particularly of Crete and Carthage, that other- 
 wise would have been unknown. But of all his 
 compositions, his Rhetoric and Poetics are most 
 ' excellent. No writer has shewn a greater pene- 
 tration into tlie recesses of the human heart than 
 this philosopher, in the second book of Isis Rhe- 
 voL. I, M toric ;
 
 162 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 toric ; where he treats of the different manners^ 
 and passions that distinguish each different age 
 and condition of man ; and from whence Horace 
 plainly took his famous description in the Art 
 of Poetry.* La Bruyere, La Rochefoucault, and 
 Montaigne himself, are not to he compared to 
 him in this respect. No succeeding writer on 
 eloquence, not even TuUy, has added any thing 
 new or important on this suhject. His Poetics, 
 which I suppose are here by Pope chiefly re- 
 ferred to, seem to have been written for the use 
 of that prince, with whose education Aristotle 
 was honoured, to give him a just taste in reading 
 Homer and the tragedians; to judge properly of 
 which, was then thought no unnecessary accom- 
 plishment in the character of a prince. To at- 
 tempt to understand poetry, without having di- 
 ligently digested this treatise, would be as absurd 
 and impossible, as to pretend to a skill in geo- 
 metry, without having studied Euchd. The four-> 
 teenth, fifteenth and sixteenth chapters, wherein 
 he has pointed out the properest methods of ex- 
 citing Terror and Pity, convince us, that he 
 
 * Ver. 157. '
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 1^3 
 
 was intimately acquainted with those ohjects 
 which most forcibly affect the heart. The prime 
 excellence of this precious treatise is the scho- 
 lastic precision, and philosophical closeness, with 
 which the subject is handled, without any ad- 
 dress to the passions, or imagination. It is to 
 be lamented, that the part of the Poetics in 
 which he had given precepts for comedy, did not 
 likewise descend to posterity. 
 
 39. Horace still charms with graceful negligence. 
 And without method talks us into sense.* 
 
 The vulgar notion, that Horace's Epistle to the 
 Pisos contains a complete Art of Poetry, is to- 
 tally groundless ; it being solely confined to the 
 state and defects of the Roman drama. The 
 transitions in the writings of Horace, are some 
 of the most exquisite strokes of his art : many 
 of them pass at present unobserved : and that his 
 contemporaries were equally blind to this beauty, 
 he himself complains, though with a seeming 
 irony, 
 
 M 2 Cum. 
 
 * Ver. 653.
 
 I64 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Cum lamentamur non apparere labores 
 Nostros, et tenui deducta poemata filo. *■ 
 
 It seems also to be another common mistake, 
 that one of Horace's characteristics is the Sub- 
 lime ; of which, indeed, he has given a very few 
 strokes, and those taken from Pindar, and, pro- 
 bably, from Alca^-us.f His excellence lay in ex- 
 quisite observations on human life, and in touch- 
 ing the foibles of mankind with delicacy and ur- 
 banity. 'Tis easy to perceive this moral J turn in 
 
 all 
 
 * Epist. I. ver. 22+. lib. 2. 
 
 f " De Horatio qulHem ita seutimus ; si Graecorum Lyrica 
 extarent, futurum, ut illius furta quamplurima depreheude- 
 renlur : qui taraen imitator es so iwn pec us appellare non dubi- 
 tarit.— — Ex Alcaeo, utopinor, [Horatii] multa, &c." Scaliger. 
 Poet. L. 5. c. 7. This is also the opinion of Heyne. Disquisit. 
 ^^neid. 
 
 X It was this turn of mind, which, if I am not deceived, 
 made Horace more fond of Euripides than of Sophocles ; at 
 least if we may judge from his more frequent allusions to the 
 works of the former than of the latter. The dispute about the 
 burying of Ajax, is almost the only passage of Sophocles al- 
 luded to in his works. Sat. iii. b. ii. 187. But to the works of 
 Euripides there are many; such as the sacrifice of Iphigenia 
 m the same epistle; the dialogue between Bacchus and Pen- 
 theus, at the end of l(j epis. of the 1st book ; and the allusion 
 
 V to
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 165 
 
 aJl his compositions : the writer of the epistles is 
 discerned in the odes. Elegance, not sublimity, 
 was his grand characteristic, Horace is the most 
 popular author of all antiquity ; the reason is, 
 M 3 because 
 
 to the quarrel of Zethus and Amphion, epis. 18. book i. In 
 the Art of Poetry, the examples are chiefly taken from ihc 
 pieces of Euripides ; 
 
 Sit Medea ferox invictaque, flebilis Iro, 
 Perfidus Ixion, lo vaga, tristis Orestes. 
 
 And again, 
 
 Telephas et Peleus, &.c. — and, Telephe, vel Peleu— 
 
 Perhaps he had his favourite Euripides in his head, when he 
 njentioned a capital fault in the unravelling a just drama ; 
 
 Nee Dcus intersit, &c. 
 
 for Euripides is frequently censured for his conduct in this 
 particular. 
 
 Rem tibi Socratlcae poterunt ostendere charta, 
 
 is also a line that puts one in mind of the friend and compa- 
 nion whom Socrates is said even to have assisted in his plays. 
 And if it were not too great a refinement, I would add, that 
 this line, 
 
 Noa satis est pulcJira esse poeraata diilcia suuto> 
 
 evidently points out the two known characteristics of the two 
 great Tragedians, and gives the preference to his supposed fa- 
 vourite.
 
 166 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 because he abounds in images drawn from fami* 
 liar life, and in remarks, that " come home to 
 mens business and bosoms." Hence he is more 
 frequently quoted, and alluded to, than any poet 
 of antiquity. 
 
 40. See DioNYsius Homer's thoughts refine. 
 
 And call new beauties forth from ev'ry line.* 
 
 These prosaic lines, this spiritless eulogy, are 
 much below the merit of the critic whom they^ 
 are intended to celebrate. Pope seems here ra- 
 ther to have considered Dionysius as the author 
 only of reflections concerning Homer ; and to 
 have in some measure overlooked, or at least not 
 to ha,ve sufficiently insisted on, his most excellent 
 book, nEPI STNGHSEnS ONOMATXIN, in which 
 he has unfolded all the secret arts that render 
 composition harmonious. One part of this dis- 
 course, I mean from the beginning of the twen- 
 ty-first to the end of the twenty-fourth Section, 
 is, perhaps, one of the most useful pieces of cri- 
 ticism extant. He there discusses the three dif- 
 ferent species of composition ; which he divides 
 
 into 
 
 * Vcr. GGa.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 16/ 
 
 into the Nervous and Austere, the Smooth 
 and Florid, and the' Middle, which partakes 
 of the nature of the two others. As examples of 
 the first species, he mentions Antimachus and 
 Empedocles in heroics, Pindar in lyric, iEschylus 
 in tragic poetry, and Thiicydides in history. As 
 examples of the second, he produces Hesiod as a 
 writer in heroics ; Sappho, Anacreon, and Simo- 
 nides, in lyric ; Euripides only, among tragic 
 writers; among the historians, Ephorus, and 
 Theopompus ; and Isocratesp among the rhetori- 
 cians. All these, says he, have used words that 
 are AEIA, xa* MAAAKA, xoci nAP0ENX2nA. The 
 writers which he alleges as instances of the third 
 S^pecies, who have happily blended the two other 
 species of composition, and who are the most 
 complete models of style, are Homer, in epic 
 poetry ; Stesichorus and Alca^us, in lyric; in tra- 
 gic, Sophocles; in history, Herodotus; in elo- 
 quence, Demosthenes ; in philosophy, Democri- 
 tus, Plato, and Aristotle.* 
 
 M 4 41. Fancy 
 
 * See also the elegant and useful treatise of Dionysius on 
 the characters of all the principal orators, poets, and liisto- 
 rians. Sylburgi edit. Lipsise. IbQl. folio, page 63. vol. 2.
 
 168 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 41. Fancy and art in gay Petronius please. 
 
 The scholar's learning with the courtier's ease."* 
 
 For \rhat merit Petronius should be placed 
 among useful critics, I could never discern. 
 There are not above two or three pages contain- 
 ing critical remarks in his work ; the chief merit 
 of which is that of telling a story with grace and 
 ease. His own style is more affected than even 
 that of his contemporaries, when the Augustan 
 simplicity was laid aside. Many of his metaphors 
 are far-fetched, and mixed. His character of 
 Horace, however celebrated, and so often quoted 
 as to become nauseous, ^' HorsLtii cwiosa fcelici- 
 taSy" is surely a very unclassical inversion ; for 
 he ought to have called it the happy carefulness 
 of Horace, rather than his ca?'eful happiness. I 
 shall observe, by the way, that the copy of this 
 author found some years ago, bears many signa- 
 tures of its spuriousness, and particularly of its 
 being forged by a Frenchman. For we have this 
 expression, '' ad Castella sese receperunt;" that 
 is, '* to their Chateaux," instead of " ad Villas.'' 
 They who maintain the genuineness of these frag- 
 ments 
 
 * Ver. 667.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 169 
 
 meiits of Petronius, will find it difficult to an- 
 swer the objections of Burman and Perlzonius. 
 
 42. In grave Quintilian's copious works we find 
 The justest rules and clearest method join'd.* 
 
 To commend Quintilian barely for his method, 
 and to insist merely on this excellence, is below 
 the merit of one of the most rational and elegant 
 of Roman writers. Considering* the nature of 
 Quintilian's subject, he afforded copious matter 
 for a more appropriated and poetical character. 
 No author ever adorned a scientifical treatise 
 with so many beautiful metaphors. Quintilian 
 was found in the bottom of a tower of the mo- 
 nastery of St. Gal, by Poggius, as appears by 
 one of his letters, dated 1417, written from Con- 
 stance, where the council was then sitting. The 
 monastery was about twenty miles from that city. 
 Silius Italicus, and Valerius Fiaccus, were found 
 at the same time and place. A history of the 
 manner in which the manuscripts of ancient au- 
 thors were found, wotdd be an entertaining work 
 to persons of literary curiosity. 
 
 43. Thee 
 * Ver. 669.
 
 170 £SSAY 0!sr tHE GENIUS 
 
 45. Thee, bold Longinus, all the. Nine inspire. 
 And bless their critic with a poet's fire.* 
 
 This abrupt address to Longinus is more spi- 
 rited and striking, and more suitable to the cha- 
 racter of the person addressed, than if he had 
 coldly spoken of him in the third person. The 
 taste and sensibility of Longinus were exquisite ; 
 but his observations are too general, and his me- 
 tbod too loose. The precision of the true philo- 
 sophical critic is lost in the declamation of the 
 florid rhetorician. Instead of shewing for what 
 reason a sentiment or image is sublime, and dis- 
 covering the secret power by which they affect a 
 reader with pleasure, he is ever intent on pro- 
 ducing something sublime himself, and strokes 
 of his own eloquence. Instead of pointing out 
 the foundation of the grandeur of Homer's 
 imagery, where he describes the motion of Nep- 
 tune, the critic is endeavouring to rival the poet, 
 by saying, that " there was not room enough in 
 the Avhole earth to take such another step." He 
 should have shewn why the speech of Phaeton to 
 his son, in a fragment of Euripides, was so lively 
 
 and 
 
 * Ver. G75..
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 171 
 
 and picturesque ; instead of which, he ardently 
 exclaims, ^' would not you say, that the soul of 
 the writer ascended the chariot with the driver, 
 and was whirled along in the same flight and 
 danger with the rapid horses ?" We have lately 
 seen a just specimen of the genuine method of 
 criticising, in Mr. Harris's accurate Discourse on 
 Poetry, Painting, and Music. I have frequently 
 wondered, that Longinus, Avho mentions Tully, 
 should have taken no notice of Virgil. I sup- 
 pose he thought him only a servile copier of the 
 Greeks. 
 
 44. From the same foes, at last, both felt their doom. 
 And the same age saw learning fall and Rome.* 
 
 *' 'Twas the fate of Rome to have scarce an 
 intermediate age, or single period of time, be- 
 tween the rise of arts and fall of liberty. No 
 sooner had that nation beomi to lose the rouo-h- 
 ness and barbarity of their manners, and learn of 
 Greece to form their heroes, their orators, and 
 poets, on a right model, than, by their unjust 
 attempt upon the liberty of the world, they justly 
 
 lost 
 
 * Ver. 665.
 
 ]72 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 lost their own. With their Uberty, they lost not 
 only their force of eloquence, but even their 
 style and language itself. The poets who after- 
 wards arose among them, were mere unnatural 
 and forced plants. Tiicir two most finished, who 
 came last, and closed the scene, were plainly 
 such as had seen the days of liberty, and felt the 
 sad effects of its departure."* 
 
 Shaftesbury proceeds to observe, that when 
 despotism was fully established, not a statue, 
 picture, or medal, not a tolerable piece of archi- 
 tecture, afterwards appeared. And it was, I may 
 add, the opinion of Longinus, and Addison, who 
 adopted it from him, that arbitrary governments 
 were pernicious to the fine arts, as well as to the 
 sciences. Modern history, however, has afforded 
 an example to the contrary. Painting, sculp- 
 ture, and music, have been seen to arrive to a 
 high perfection in Rome, notwithstanding the 
 slavery and superstition that reign there : nay, 
 superstition itself has been highly productive of 
 these fine arts ; for with what enthusiasm must a 
 
 popish 
 
 * Advice to an Author, vol. i. pag. 148. Edit. 12rao.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 173 
 
 popish painter work for an altar-piece ? Tliere 
 have been instances of painters, who, before they 
 began to work, have always received the sacra- 
 ment. Neither Dante, Ariosto, nor Tasso, flou- 
 rished in free governrnents ; and it seems* chi- 
 merical to assert, that IMilton would never have 
 written his Paradise Lost, if \\€ had not seen mo- 
 narchy destroyed, and the state thrown into dis- 
 order. Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Julio Ro- 
 mano, lived in despotic states. The fine arts, in 
 short, are naturally attendant upon power and 
 luxury. But the sciences require unlimited free- 
 dom to raise them to their full vigour and growth. 
 In a jMonarchy, there may be poets, painters, 
 and musicians ; but orators, historians, and phi- 
 losophers, can exist in a Republic alone. 
 
 45. A second deluge learning ihu? o'er-nm. 
 
 And the moiiks fmisli'il what the Goths begun. f 
 
 Every custom and opinion that can degrade 
 and deform humanity, were to be found in the 
 
 times 
 
 * See E-vaciRY into the Life and Writings of Honaer, 
 Sect. V. pag. GT. 
 
 ■^ Ver. GQl.
 
 174 tSSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 times here alluded to. The most cruel tyranny, 
 and the grossest superstition, reigned without 
 controul. Men seemed to have lost not only the 
 light of learning, but of their common reason. 
 Duels, divinations, tlie ordeal, and all the op- 
 pressive customs of the feudal laws, were univer- 
 sally practised : witchcraft, possessions, revela- 
 tions, and astrology,* were generally believed. 
 Thet clergy were so ignorant, that, in some of 
 the most solemn acts of synods, such words as 
 tiiese are to be found : ^^ As my Lord Bishop can- 
 owt write himself, at his request I have subscribed.''* 
 They wxre at the same time so profligate, as to 
 publish Absolutions for any one who had killed 
 his father, mother, sister, or wife ; or had com- 
 mitted the most enormous pollutions. On a sur- 
 vey 
 
 * Even so late as the reign of Charles V. we are informed 
 hy Christana, of Pisa, that her father, who was the king's 
 astrologer, foretold his death to a moment in the year 1380. 
 This astrologer was so highly in favour, and esteemed of such 
 importance, as to have a monthly pension of an hundred 
 livres ; a considerable sum for that time. 
 
 f They celebrated in many churches, particularly at Rouen, 
 what was called, the Feast of the Ass. On this occasion, 
 the Ass, finely drest, was brought before the altar, and they 
 sunr before him this elegant anthem, " Eh, eh, ch, Sire Ane-! 
 £//, ch, eh, Sire Ane !"
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 175 
 
 vey of these absurd abominations, one is apt to 
 cry out, in the emphatical words of Lucretius, 
 
 Quae procul a nobis flectat Fortuna gubernans ! 
 
 But we may rest secure, if the observation of an 
 acute writer be true, who says, " Europe will, 
 perhaps, behold ages of a bad taste, but will ne- 
 ver again relapse into barbarism. The sole inven- 
 tion of printing has forbidden that event." The 
 only sparks of literature that then remained, 
 were to be found among the j\Iahometans, and 
 not the Christians. It was from the Arabians 
 that we received astronomy, chemistry, medicine, 
 algebra, and arithmetic. Albategni, a Saracen, 
 some of whose manuscripts are now reposited in 
 the Bodleian Library at Oxford, made astronomi- 
 cal observations in the year 880. Our Almanack, 
 Al-Manac, is an Arabic word. The great 
 church at Cordova, in Spain, where the Saracens 
 kept a magnificent court. Is a monument of their 
 skill in architecture. The o-ame of chess, that 
 admirable effort of the human mind, was by them 
 invented ; as were tilts and tournaments. Aver- 
 roes translated, and commented upon, the greatest 
 1 part
 
 176 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 part of Aristotle's works,* and was the introducer 
 of that author's philosophy into the f west. It 
 was Gerbert, Avho, in the reign of Hugh Capet, 
 is said to have introduced into France, the Ara- 
 bian and Indian cypher : for the Arabians had 
 borrowed from the Indians this manner of com- 
 puting ; and Gerbert learned it from the Saracens 
 when he made a journey into Spain. Gerbert 
 also undertook to make the first clock, the mo- 
 tion of which Mas regulated by a balance ; which 
 method M'as made use of till the year 1650, when 
 they began to place a pendulum instead of the 
 balance. " Can it be believed, (says Mr. He- 
 nault,) that there ever was so little intercourse 
 between the provinces of France, that an abbot 
 of Clugni, being invited by Bouchard, Count of 
 Paris, to bring his Religious to St. Maurdes-Fos- 
 s^s, excused himself from making so long a jour- 
 
 ~ ney, 
 
 *■ I have seen a translation of his Comment on the Poetics, 
 ■with this title, " Averroys Summa in Aristotelis Poeticani ; 
 ex Arabico sermone in Latinum traducta ab Hermano Alemano. 
 PrfEmittitur Determinatio Ibinkosdin (another Arabian writer) 
 in Poetria Aristotelis. Venetiis, apud Georgium Arrivabenum, 
 
 f From Sadi, an Arabian Poet, Milton is said to have taken 
 the grand idea of the bridge over thaos.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 177 
 
 ney, into a country unknown, and to which he 
 was so much a STRANGER?'' Charlemagne, in- 
 deed, two centuries before this last mentioned 
 time, had endeavoured to bring civility and learn- 
 ing into France : he introduced the Gregorian 
 chant; and established a* school in his palace, 
 where the famous Alcuin, whom he invited from 
 England, instructed the youth. Each of the 
 members of this academy took a particular name; 
 and Charlemagne himself, who did it the honour 
 to become one of its members, assumed that of 
 David. This attempt to civilize his barbarous 
 subjects, was as arduous, and worthy his great 
 genius, as his noble project to open a communi- 
 cation between the Ocean and the Euxine by sea, 
 and to join the Rhine to the Danube by a canal. 
 
 46. At length Erasmus, that great, injur'd name, 
 (The glory of the priesthood, and the shame !) 
 Stem'd the wild torrent of a barb'rous age. 
 And drove those holy Vandals off the stage. f 
 
 VOL. I. N It 
 
 * He is said to have founded the university of Paris. 
 Twyne's Antiq. Acad. Oxon. Apolog. edit. 1608. pag. 158, et 
 seq. 
 
 t Ver. 693.
 
 178 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 It were to be wished our author had drawn as 
 larger and fuller portrait of this wonderful man, 
 of whom he appears to have been so fond, as to 
 declare in the Letters,* that he had some design 
 of writing his life in Latin. I call Erasmus a 
 wonderful man, not only on account of the va- 
 riety, and classical purity, of his works, but of 
 that penetration, that strong and acute sense, 
 which enabled him to pierce through the absur- 
 dities of the times, and expose them with such 
 poignant ridicule, and attic elegance. A work 
 of humour, and of humour directed to expose 
 the priests, in that age, was indeed a prodigy. 
 The irony of the Encomium on Folly has never 
 been excelled. Erasmus, though a commentator, 
 had taste ; and though a Catholic, had charity. 
 His learning was enlivened with wit ; and his or« 
 thodoxy was tempered v/ith moderation. He was 
 never dazzled with what was called erudition ; 
 or misled by that blind and undistinguishing ve- 
 neration which was naturally paid to the ancients 
 on the first discovery of their writings. By his 
 CiCERoxiANus, he repressed the affectation of 
 imitating Tull}>"s manner of expression in every 
 
 species 
 
 * Vol, vil. p. 232.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 179 
 
 species of composition. In bis Ecclestastes, 
 very excellent rules are laid down for preaching. 
 In his Dialogues, the superstitions of the Ro- 
 mish church are exposed with all the pleasantry 
 of Lucian ; an author to whom his genius bore 
 great resemblance ; and some of whose dialogues 
 he has translated with their original spirit. In- 
 deed, among the many translators of Greek au- 
 thors wlio flourished at that time, Erasmus seems 
 to have been in all respects the most eminent. 
 To him was the restoration of literature princi- 
 pally owing. More than one prince solicited his 
 friendship, and invited him to their courts. We 
 see in a letter of Erasmus, written in the year 
 151(5, that Francis I. who shared with Leo X. 
 the glory of reviving sciences and arts in Europe, 
 having declared to Petit, his confessor, that he 
 intended to bring into France the most learned 
 men he could find, Petit had charged Buda;us, 
 and Cop, the royal physician, to Av^rite to Eras- 
 mus, to engage him to settle in France : that 
 Stephen Poncher, ambassador from the king at 
 Brussels, pressed him still more ; but that Eras- 
 mus made his excuses, because his Catholic Ma- 
 jesty Charles V. had retained him in the Low 
 N 2 Countries.
 
 180 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Countries. The life of Erasmus, which deserves 
 the finest pen, has been wretchedly and frigidly 
 written by Knight ; although, indeed, the mate- 
 rials he has collected are curious and useful. 
 
 47. But see ! each muse in Leo's golden days, 
 
 Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays : 
 Rome's ancient Genius, o'er its ruins spread. 
 Shakes off the dust, and rears his rev'rend head.* 
 
 History has recorded five ages of the world, 
 in which the human mind has exerted itself in an 
 extraordinary manner ; and in which its produc- 
 tions in literature and the fine arts, have arrived 
 at a perfection not equalled in other periods. 
 The FIRST, is the age of Philip and Alexander ; 
 about which time flourished Socrates, Plato, De- 
 mosthenes, Aristotle, Lysippus, Apelles, Phidias, 
 Praxiteles, Thucydides, Xenophon, ^schylus, 
 Euripides, Sophocles, Aristophanes, Menander, 
 Philemon. The second age, which seems not 
 to have been sufficiently taken notice of, was 
 that of Ptolomy Philadelphus, king of iEgypt ; 
 in which appeared Lycophron, Aratus, Nicander, 
 Apollonius Rhodius, Theocritus, Callimachus, 
 
 Eratosthenes, 
 
 * Ver. 697.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 181 
 
 Eratosthenes, Philicus, Erasistratus the physi- 
 cian, Timaeus the historian, Cleanthes, Diogenes 
 the painter, and Sostrates the architect. This 
 prince, from his love of learning, commanded 
 the Old Testament to he translated into Greek. 
 The THIRD age is that of Julius Cassar, and Au- 
 gustus ; marked with the illustrious names of La- 
 berius, Catullus, Lucretius, Cicero, Livy, Varro, 
 Virgil, Horace, Propertius, Tibullus, Ovid, Pha3~ 
 drus, Vitruvius, Dioscorides. The fourth a^e 
 was that of Julius II. and Leo X. which pro- 
 duced Ariosto, Tasso, Fracastorius, Sannaza- 
 rius, Vida, Bembo, Sadolet, Machiavel, Guic- 
 ciardin, Michael A ngelo, Raphael, Titian. The 
 FIFTH age, is that of Louis XIV. in France, and 
 of king William and queen Anne in England ; in 
 which, or thereabouts, are to be found, Cor- 
 neille, Moliere, Racine, Boileau, La Fontaine, 
 Bossuet, La Rochefoucault, Paschal, Bourdaloue, 
 Patru, Malbranche, De Retz, La Bruyere, St. 
 
 Real, Fenelon, Lully, Le Saiur, Poussin, La BruSJ. 
 
 • ■ I' 
 Puget, Theodon, Gerardon, Edelinck, Nanteuil, 
 
 * Pcrrault, Dry den, Tillotson, Temple, Pope, 
 
 N 3 Addison,: 
 
 * The Architect.
 
 182 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Addison, Garth, Congreve, Rowe, Prior, Lee, 
 Swift, Bolingbroke, Atterbury, Boyle, Locke, 
 Newton, Clarke, Knelier, Thornhill, Jervas, Pur- 
 cell, Mead, Freind. 
 
 Concerning the particular encouragement given 
 by Leo X. to polite literature, and the fine arts, 
 I forbear to enlarge ; because a friend of mine is 
 at present engaged in Avriting, The History of 
 THE Age of Leo X. It is a noble period, and 
 full of those most important events Avhich have 
 had the greatest influence on human affairs. Such 
 is the discovery of the West-Indies, by the Spa- 
 niards ; and of a passage to the East, by the 
 Portugueze : the invention of printing ; the re- 
 formation of religion ; M'ith many others : all 
 which will be insisted upon at large, and their 
 consequences displayed. I shall only here tran- 
 siently observe, that some efforts to emerge from 
 barbarity had long before this time appeared in 
 Italy. Dante wrote his sublime* and original 
 
 poem, 
 
 *• See particularly the beginning of the third canto of the 
 Infekno, as also the beginning of the sixth, particularly the 
 inscription over the gate of Hell : 
 
 Per
 
 AND WRITINGS Of POPE. 183 
 
 poem, whicli is a kind of satirical epic, and 
 which abounds in images and sentiments ahiiost 
 worthy of Homer, but whose works he had never 
 seen, about the year 1310. Giotto, the disci- 
 ple of Cimabue, the friend of Dante, and sub- 
 ject of his praises, was employed, about the 
 same time, by Benedict XI. and a picture of mo- 
 saic work done by him, over the gate of St. Pe- 
 ter's church at Rome, is still remaining A 
 Tuscan, called Guy of Arezzo, invented the 
 musical notes in use at present : and Bruncleschi 
 built palaces at Florence, in the style of ancient 
 architecture. Soon afterwards, Boccace and Pe- 
 trarch polished, and fixed the standard of, the 
 Italian language.* To Petrarch the honour is 
 N 4 generally 
 
 Per me si va nella citta dolente ; 
 Per me si va neW eterno dolor^ &c. 
 Lasciate ogni speraaza, voi^ che entrate. 
 
 Whence Milton, 
 
 Hope never comes. 
 
 That comes to al l 
 
 * " Veggiamo in un meder.imo progresso di tempo (dal 
 regno principalmente dell' una, e dell' altra Sicilia, e poi della 
 Lombardia, e de vari, e distinti luoghi d'ltalia) sKjrgere scrittori, 
 i quali anno favella con Dante, Petrarcha, Boccacio, cd altri 
 
 Toscaoi
 
 184« ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 o-enerally attributed of having restored* the ele- 
 gance of the Latin tongue ; particularly in poetry. 
 But a late acute searcher into antiquity, whose 
 death is justly lamented, the learned Scipio 
 Maffei, has informed us,t in a curious passage, 
 that this was not so much owing to Petrarch, as 
 to Albertino Mussato, a native of Padua ; with 
 whose merit the learned seem not to be suffi- 
 ciently acquainted. Mussato died very old, after 
 having borne the greatest offices in his country, 
 in the year 1329 ; that is to say, thirty-five 
 years before Petrarch, lie wrote not only many 
 books of a history of his own times, and of the 
 emperor Henry VII. but also an heroic poem on 
 the siege of Padua, by the Veronese, under the 
 
 great 
 
 Toscani aiitori coniune, e con loro anclic comune 1' autorita, 
 da ogni regolator dalla lingua riconosciuta, i quali, tra molti 
 altri, furono Guidotto Bolognese, Marco Polo Veneziano, Pier 
 Crescenzio da Bologna, Gultlo Giudice Messinese, Giacopo 
 Colonna Romano, Fredeiico II. imperadore. Pier delle Vigne 
 Capoano, Benvenuto da Imola, Fra Jacopone da Todi, Onesto 
 Bolognese, Guido Guislieri, Sempifhene, Fabrovio, Guide 
 Guislieri, Jacopo delia Lana, Giotto Mantovano." 
 
 Gravina della Rag. Poet. lib. ii. p, 170. 
 
 * When Petrarch wrote his Africa, he had not seen Silius 
 Italicus. 
 
 i Teatro Italiano, In Verona, 1725. loni. i. p. ■\:
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 185 
 
 great Can ; together with eclogues, elegies, epis- 
 tles in verse, and an Ovidian Cento. However, 
 to form a full judgment in this case, one need 
 only peruse his two Latin tragedies, entitled Ec- 
 CERiNis, and Achilles, which he composed in 
 the style and manner of Seneca; and which were 
 the first regular and perfect dramas that are to be 
 found since the barbarous and obscure ages. 
 
 * 
 
 48. Immortal Vida ; on whose honour'd brow 
 The Poet's ba3^s and Critic's ivy grow.f 
 
 The merits of Vida seem not to have been 
 particularly attended to in England, till Pope 
 had bestowed this commendation upon him ; al- 
 though the Poetics had been correctly published 
 at Oxford, by Basil Kennet, some time before. 
 The SiLK-woRMS of Vida are written with classi- 
 cal purity, and with a just mixture of the styles 
 
 of 
 
 * Scardonlus, in his Antiquities of Padua, relates, page 130, 
 that Alber. Mussato was so highly honoured, that the Bishop 
 of Patlua gave him a laurel crown, and issued an edict, that, 
 on every Christmas-day, the doctors, regents, and professors, 
 of the two colleges in that city, should go to his house in so- 
 lemn procession with wax tapers in their hands, and offer him 
 a triple crown, 
 
 t Ver. 70.5.
 
 186 ESSAY OM THE GENIUS 
 
 of Lucretius and Virgil. It was a happy choice 
 to write a poem on Chess : nor is the execution 
 less happy. The various stratagems, and mani- 
 fold intricacies, of this ingenious game, so diffi- 
 cult to be described in Latin, are here expressed 
 with the greatest perspicuity and elegance ; so 
 that, perhaps, the game might be learned from 
 this description. Amidst many prosaic flatnesses, 
 there are many fine strokes in the Christiad ; 
 particularly, his angels, with respect to their per- 
 sons and insignia, are drawn with that dignit}^ 
 which we so much admire in Milton, who seems 
 to have had his eye on those passages. *Gravina 
 applauds Vida, for having found out a method 
 to introduce the whole history of our Saviour's 
 life, by putting it into the mouth of St. Joseph 
 and St. John, who relate it to Pilate. But surely 
 this speech, consisting of as many lines as that 
 of Dido to ^neas, was too long to be made on 
 such an occasion, when Christ was brought be- 
 fore the tribunal of Pilate, to be judged, and 
 condemned to death. The Poetics are, perhaps, 
 the most perfect of his compositions : they are 
 excellently translated by Pitt. Vida had formed 
 
 himself 
 
 * Delia Raglon, Poet, pnge 127.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 18/ 
 
 himself upon Virgil, who is therefore his hero : 
 he has too much depreciated Homer. Although 
 his precepts principally regard epic poetry, yet 
 many of them are applicable to every species of 
 composition. This poem has the praise of being 
 one of the * first, if not the very first, pieces of 
 criticism, that appeared in Italy since the revival 
 of learning: for it was finished, as is evident 
 from a short advertisement prefixed to it, in the 
 year 1.520. It is remarkable, that most of the 
 great poets about this time wrote an Art of 
 Poetry. Trissino, a name respected for giving 
 to Europe the first regular epic poem, and for 
 first daring to throw off the bondage of rhyme,']' 
 published at Vicenza, in the year 1529, Della 
 PoETicA, d'rcisioni quattro, several years before 
 his Italia Liberata. We have of Fracastorius, 
 Naugerius, she de Poetica dialogus, Venetiis, 
 15^5. IMinturnus, De Poeta, libri se.v, ap- 
 peared 
 
 ^' Victorius's Latin translation of Aristotle's Poetics was 
 published at Florenco, 15G0. Castlevetro's Italian one at 
 Vienna, 1570. 
 
 f As did his contemporary, Alonso de Fucutcs, in Spain, 
 who published at Seville, in 1 J77, in blank verse, a Poem, en- 
 titled, h'jL Suma de Philosophia.
 
 188 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 peared at Venice 1559. Bernardo Tasso, the fa- 
 ther of Torquato, and author of an epic poem 
 entitled L'Amadigi, wrote Ragionamento delta 
 Poesia, printed at Venice, 1562. And to pay 
 the highest honour to criticism, the great Tor- 
 quato Tasso himself wrote Discorsi del Foema 
 Eroico^ printed at Venice, 1587. These dis- 
 courses are full of learning and taste. But I 
 must not omit a curious anecdote, which * Me- 
 nage has given us in his Anti-Baillet; namely, 
 that Sperone claimed these discourses as his own : 
 for he thus speaks of them in one of his letters 
 to Felice Paciotto : " Laudo voi infinitamente 
 di voler scrivere della poetica; della quale inter- 
 rogato molto fiate dal Tasso, f e rispondendogli 
 io liberamente, si come soglio, egli n'a fatto un 
 volume, e mandato al Signior Scipio Gonzaga 
 per cosa sua, e non mea : ma io ne chiariro il 
 mondo." 
 
 49. And 
 
 * Tom. 1. page 35S. 
 
 f It may be remarked, as an instance of Tasso's judgment, 
 that he himself did not approve the episode of Sophronia and 
 Olindo, so commonly censured.
 
 AND WRITIMGS OF POPE. 189 
 
 49. And BoiLEAU still in right of Horace sways.* 
 
 May I be pardoned for declaring it as my opi- 
 nion, that Boileau's is the best f Art of Poetry 
 extant? The brevity of his precepts, enlivened 
 by proper imagery, the justness of his metaphors, 
 the harmony of his numbers, as far as alexan- 
 drine lines will admit, the exactness of his me- 
 thod, the perspicacity of his remarks, and the 
 energy of his style, all duly considered, may 
 render this opinion not unreasonable. It is 
 scarcely to be conceived, how much is compre- 
 hended in four short cantos. J He that has well 
 ^digested these, cannot be said to be ignorant of 
 any important rule of poetry. The tale of the 
 physician turning architect, in the fourth canto, 
 
 is 
 
 * Ver. 714. 
 
 f It was translated into Portugueze verse, by Count d'Eri- 
 ceyra. 
 
 :}: It is remarkable, Boileau declared he had never read 
 Vida; to whom, indeed, he is much superior. Patru, whom 
 lie always consulted on his works, dissuaded him from under- 
 taking this subject; because he thought the French language 
 incapable of delivering precepts of this sort with beconoing 
 elegance and grace.
 
 jgO ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 is told with true pleasantry. It is to this work 
 Boileau owes his immortahty ; Avhich was of the 
 highest utility to his nation, in diffusing a just 
 way of thinking and writing ; banishing every 
 species of false wit, and introducing a general 
 taste for the manly simplicity of the ancients, on 
 whose writings this poet had formed his taste. 
 Boileau's chief talent was the didactic. His 
 fancy was not the predominant faculty of his 
 mind. Fontenelle has thus characterised him : 
 *' II etoit grand & excellent versificateur, pourvii 
 cependant que cette louange se renferme dans ses 
 beaux jours, dont la diff^'ence avec les autres est 
 bien marquee ; & faisoit souvent dire Helas ! Sc 
 Hold I mais il nY^toit pas grand poetc, si Ton 
 entend par ce mot, comme on le doit, celui t^ui 
 
 FAIT, qui INVENTE, qui CREE."* 
 
 50. Such was the muse, whose rules and practice tell, 
 *' Nature's chief master-piece is writing well."f 
 
 This high panegyric procured to Pope the ac- 
 quaintance, and afterwards the constant friend- 
 ship, 
 
 * CEuvres de Fontenelle. Tom. iii. page 370, a Paris^ 1752, 
 f Vcr. 723.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. ipi 
 
 ship, of the Duke of Buckingham ; who, in his 
 Essay here alluded to, has followed the method 
 of Boileau, in discoursing on the various species 
 of poetry in their different gradations, to no 
 other purpose than to manifest his own infe- 
 riority. The piece is, indeed, of the satiric, ra- 
 ther than of the preceptive, kind. The cold- 
 ness and neglect with which this writer, formed 
 only on the French critics, speaks of Milton, 
 must be considered as proofs of his want of cri- 
 tical discernment, or of critical courage. I can 
 recollect no performance of Buckingham, that 
 stamps him a true genius. His reputation was 
 owing to his rank. In reading his poems, one is 
 apt to exclaim, with our author, 
 
 What woeful stuff this madrigal would be, 
 111 some starv'd hackney sonnetteer or me ? 
 But let a Lord once own the happy lines, 
 IIow the wit brightens ! how the style refines! 
 Before his sacred name flies every fault. 
 And each exalted stanza teems with thought. 
 
 The best part of Buckingham's Essay, is that 
 
 in which he gives a ludicrous account of the 
 
 plan of modern tragedy. I should add, that his 
 
 compliment to Pope, prefixed to his poems, con- 
 
 1 tains
 
 192 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 tains a pleasing picture of the sedateness and re- 
 tirement proper to age, after the tumults of pub- 
 lic life ; and by its moral turn, breathes the spi- 
 rit, if not of a poet, yet of an amiable old Man. 
 
 51. Such was Roscommon.* 
 
 Ax Essay on Translated Verse seems at first 
 sight to be a barren subject ; yet Roscommon 
 has decorated it with many precepts of utility 
 and taste, and enlivened it with a tale, in imita- 
 tion of Boileau. It is indisputably better written, 
 in a closer and more vi^'orous style, than the 
 last-mentioned Essay. Roscommon was more 
 learned than Buckingham. He was bred under 
 Bochart, at Caen, in Normandy. He had laid a 
 design of forming a society for the refining, and 
 fixing the standard of our language ; in which 
 project his intimate friend Dryden was a princi- 
 pal assistant. This was the first attempt of that 
 sort ; and, I fear, we shall never see another set 
 on foot in our days : even though -Mr. Johnson 
 has lately given us so excellent a dictionary. It 
 may be remarked, to the praise of Roscommon, 
 
 that 
 
 * Ver. 725.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 193 
 
 that he was the first critic who had taste and 
 
 spirit enough,* publicly to praise the Paradise 
 
 VOL. I. O Lost ; 
 
 * The editors of Milton have been curious in endeavouring 
 to search out who were the very first persons that brought the 
 Paradise Lost into vogue and esteem. The following is, I be- 
 lieve, the very first passage in which any public notice was 
 taken of its excellence. It was written by Edward Philips, 
 Milton's nephew, and who had been one of his scholars, in a 
 treatise, entitled, Tractatulus de Carmine Dramatico Poetarum 
 veterum; cui subjungitur compendiosa Enumeratio Poetarum. 
 Londini, 1670. This was three years after the first publica- 
 tion of Paradise Lost. The words follow, " lohannes Milto- 
 nus, praeter alia quae scripsit elegantissima turn Anglice turn 
 Latine, nuper publici juris fecit Paradisum amissam, Poema, 
 quod, sive Sublimitatem Argumenti, sive Leporem simul & 
 Majestatem Styli, sive Sublimitatem Inventionis, sive Similitu- 
 dines & Descriptiones quam maxime naturales respiciamus, 
 vere Heroicum, ni fallor, audiet: Plurium enim sqfFragiis qui 
 non nesciunt judicare, censetur Perfectionem hujus generis 
 Poematis assecutum esse." From many circumstances in the 
 same Treatise, particularly his censure of rhyme, his great com- 
 mendations of the best Italian poets, and of Spenser, their true 
 son and disciple, (and father of Milton,) it is evident from 
 whence this Philips imbibed his principles of criticism. So 
 early as the year 1G77, Dryden speaks thus highly of Paradise 
 Lost, in the preface to his State of Innocence : " Undoubtedly, 
 it is one of the greatest, most noble, and most sublime Poems, 
 which either this age or nation has produced." Again, in the 
 year 1685, in the preface to the 2d vol. of the Miscellanies, he 
 says, " Milton's Paradise Lost is admirable. But cannot I ad- 
 mire the heighth of his invention, and the strength of his ex- 
 pression, without defending his antiquated words ?" Agsiio,- i'" 
 
 the
 
 '\g4' ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Lost ; with a noble encomium of which, and a 
 rational recommendation of blank verse, he con- 
 cludes his performance. Fenton, in his Observa- 
 tions on Waller, has accurately delineated his 
 character : " His imagination might have proba- 
 bly been more fruitful and sprightly, if his judg- 
 ment had been less severe : but that severity, 
 delivered in a masculine, clear, succinct style, 
 contributed to make him so eminent in the di- 
 dactical manner, that no man with justice can 
 affirm, he M'as ever equalled by any of our own 
 nation, without confessing at the same time, that 
 he is inferior to none. In some other kinds of 
 writing, his genius seems to have wanted fire to 
 attain the point of perfection : but who can at- 
 tain it ?"* 
 
 52. Such 
 
 the year 168S, he wrote the six celebrated lines to be prefixed 
 to the first folio edition with cuts; which were all designed by 
 an Italian artist, named Medina, except that for the 9th Book, 
 which was drawn by B. Lens, senior; and that for the I2th 
 Book, designed by Dr. Aldrich. Dr. Metcalf, of Oxford, had 
 in his possession the original drawings for all those prints. It 
 is also observable, that in a copy of verses entitled, Decretiim 
 Oxonieuse, in the 2d vol. of the Musae Anglicanae, written in 
 the year 1683, this poem is greatly extolled, at the same time 
 that the author's political principles are severely handled. 
 
 * Edit. 12mo. page 136.
 
 AND WRITINGS O^ ?&!>£, J^J 
 
 52. Such late was Walsh, the muse's judge and friend.* 
 
 If Pope has here given too magnificent an 
 eulogy to Walsh, it must he attrihuted to friend- 
 ship, rather than to judgment. Walsh was in 
 general a flimsy and frigid writer. The Rambler 
 calls his works Pages of Inanity. His three 
 letters to Pope, however, are well written. His 
 remarks on the nature of pastoral poetry, on bor-, 
 rowing from the ancients, and against florid con- 
 ceits, are worthy perusal. | Pope owed much to 
 Walsh : it was he who gave him a very important 
 piece of advice in his early youth ; for he used 
 to tell our author, that there was one way still 
 left open for him, by which he might excel any 
 of his predecessors, which was, by correct- 
 ness ; that though, indeed, we had several great 
 poets, we as yet could boast of none that were 
 perfectly correct ; and that, therefore, he ad- 
 vised him to make this quality his particular 
 study. 
 
 O 2 Correctness 
 
 * Ver. 729. 
 t Vol. vii. pag. 67, &c.
 
 ig6 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Correctness is a vague term, frequently used 
 without meaning and precision. It is perpetually 
 the nauseous cant of the French critics, and of 
 their advocates and pupils, that the English wri- 
 ters are generally incorrect. If correctness 
 implies an absence of petty faults, this perhaps 
 may be granted. If it means, that, because their 
 tragedians have avoided the irregularities of 
 Shakespeare, and have observed a juster oeco- 
 nomy in their fables, therefore the Athalia, for 
 instance, is preferable to Lear, the notion is 
 groundless and absurd. Though the Henriade* 
 
 should 
 
 * An epic poem in couplets ! In the Geneva edition of the 
 Henriade, we are informed of a curious anecdote : when it 
 was printed at London, in 1726, in quarto, by subscription, 
 Mr. Dadiky, a Greek, and native of Smyrna, who at that 
 time resided in London, saw, by chance, the first leaf as it 
 was printing, where was the following line : 
 
 Qui for^a les Francois a devenir heureux : 
 
 he immediately paid a visit to the author, and said to him, " I 
 am of the country of Homer; he did not begin his poems by 
 a stroke of wit, by an enigma." The author immediately 
 corrected the line : but I beg leave to add, that he did not cor- 
 rect many others of the same modern kind. Voltaire has dropt 
 a remark in the last edition of his Essay on Epic Poetry, 
 which is not, indeed, very favourable to the taste of his coun- 
 trymen,
 
 AND "WRITINGS OF POPl. 197 
 
 should be allowed to be free from any very gross 
 absurdities, yet who will dare to rank it with the 
 Paradise Lost? Some of their most perfect tra- 
 gedies abound in faults as contrary to the nature 
 of that species of poetry, and as destructive of 
 its end, as the fools or grave-diggers of Shake- 
 speare. That the French may boast some excel- 
 lent critics, particularly Bossu, Boileau, Fenelon, 
 and Brumoy, cannot be denied ; but that these 
 are sufficient to form a taste upon, without hav- 
 (ing recourse to the genuine fountains of all po- 
 
 O 3 lite 
 
 trymen, but is perfectly true and just, and which he seems to 
 have forgotten in some of his late assertions: 
 
 " It must be owned, that it is more difficult for a French- 
 man to succeed in epic poetry, than for any other person ; but 
 neither the constraint of rhyme, nor the dryness of our 
 language, is the cause of this difficulty. Shall I venture to 
 name the cause ? It is, because of all polished nations, ours is 
 the least poetic. The works in verse, which are most in vogue 
 in France, are pieces for the Theatre. These pieces must be 
 written in a style that approaches to that of conversation. Des- 
 preaux has treated only lUdactic subjects, which require sim- 
 plicity. It is well known, that exactness and elegance con- 
 stitute the chief merit of his verses and those of Racine ; and 
 when Despreaux attempted a sublime ode, he was no longer 
 Despreaux. These examples have accustomed the French to 
 too uniform a march ."
 
 -198 *SSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 lite literature, I mean the Grecian writers, no 
 one but a superficial reader can allow. 
 
 I conclude these reflections with a remarkable 
 fact. In no polished nation, after criticism has 
 been much studied, and the rules of writing esta- 
 l)lished, has any very extraordinary work ever 
 appeared. This has visibly been the case in 
 Greece, in Rome, and in France, after Aristotle, 
 Horace, and Boileau, had written their Arts of 
 Poetry. In our own country, the rules of the 
 drama, for instance, were never more completely 
 understood than at present: yet what uninte- 
 resting, though FAULTLESS, tragedies, hav^e we 
 lately seen ! So much better is our judgment 
 than our execution. How to account for the fact 
 here mentioned, adequately and justly, would be 
 . attended with all those difficulties that await dis- 
 cussions relative to the productions of the human 
 mind ; and to the delicate and secret causes that 
 influence them. Whether or no, the natural 
 powers '^"^ not confined and debilitated by that 
 timidity and caution which is occasioned by a 
 rigid regard to the dictates of art ; or whether 
 that philosophical, that geometrical, and systema- 
 1 • tical.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 1^9 
 
 tical, spirit so much in vogue, which has spread 
 itself from the sciences even into pohte hterature, 
 by consulting only reason, has not diminished 
 and destroyed sentiment, and made our poets 
 write from and to the head, rather than the 
 HEART ; or whether, lastly, when just models, 
 from which the rules have necessarily been drawn, 
 have once appeared, succeeding writers, by vainly 
 and ambitiously striving to surpass those just 
 models, and to shine and surprise, do not become 
 stiff, and forced, and affected in their thoughts 
 and diction. 
 
 4 SECTION 
 
 '"ffft
 
 200 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 OF THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 
 
 JIF the Moderns have excelled the Ancients in 
 any species of writing, it seems to be in satire, and 
 particularly in that kind of satire which is con- 
 veyed in the form of the epopee ; a pleasing ve- 
 hicle of satire, seldom, if ever, used by the an- 
 cients ; for we know so little of the Margites of 
 Homer, that it cannot well be produced as an 
 example. As the poet disappears in this way of 
 writing, and does not deliver the intended cen- 
 sure in his own proper person, the satire becomes 
 more deHcate, because more oblique. Add to 
 this, that a tale or story more strongly engages 
 and interests the reader, than a series of precepts 
 or reproofs, or even of characters themselves, 
 however lively and natural. An heroi-comic 
 poem may therefore be justly esteemed the most 
 excellent kind of satire. 
 
 The
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 201 
 
 The invention of it is usually ascribed to Ales- 
 sandro Tassoni ; who, in the year 1622, pubHsh- 
 ed at Paris, a poem composed by him, in a few 
 months of the year I6II, entitled La Secchia 
 I Rapita ; or. The Rape of the Bucket. To avoid 
 giv^ing offence, it was first printed under the 
 name of Androvini IMelisoni. It was afterwards 
 reprinted at Venice, corrected, with the name of 
 the author, and with some illustrations of Gas- 
 paro Salviani. But the learned and curious Cre- 
 scembini, in his Istoria delta Volgar Poesia* in- 
 forms us, that it is doubtful whether the inven- 
 tion of the f heroi comic poem ought to be 
 ascribed to Tassoni, or to Francesco Bracciohni, 
 who wrote :j: Lo Scherno de gli Dei, which 
 performance, though it was printed four years 
 after La Secchia, is nevertheless declared in an 
 epistle prefixed, to have been written many years 
 sooner. The real subject of Tassoni's poem, was 
 
 the 
 
 * Lib. i. pag. 78. Iii Roma, per il Chracas, 1698. 
 
 f E tal Poesia puo diffinirsi, e chiamarsi, immitazione 
 d'azione seria fatto con riso. Crescembiui, ibid. See Q,ua- 
 drio also. 
 
 \ In Venetia, 1627. There is prefixed, by way of preface, 
 a facetious dialocrue betwixt Thalia and Urania.
 
 202 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 the war which the inhabitants of Modena declar- 
 ed against those of Bologna, on the refusal of 
 the latter to restore to them some towns which 
 had been detained ever since the time of the em- 
 peror Frederic II. The author artfully made use 
 of a popular tradition, according to which it was 
 believed, that a certain wooden bucket, which is 
 kept at Modena, in the treasur}^ of the cathedral, 
 €ame from Bologna, and that it had been forci- 
 bly taken away by the Modenese. Crescembini 
 adds, that because Tassoni had severely ridiculed 
 the Bolognese, Bartolomeo Bocchini, to revenge 
 his countrymen, printed at Venice, 164-1, a tra- 
 o-ico-heroi-comic poem, entitled Le Pazzie de 
 Savi, oxiero^ II Lambertaccio, in which the 
 Modenese are spoken of with much contempt. 
 The Italians have a fine turn for works of hu- 
 mour, in which they abound They have an- 
 other poem of this species, called Malmantile 
 Racquistato, written by Lorenzo Lippi, in the 
 year I676, which Crescembini* highly com- 
 mends, caUing it, *' Spiritosisimo e legiadrissimo 
 poema giacoso." It was afterwards reprinted at 
 
 Florence 
 
 * Pag. 368. lib. v.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 203 
 
 Florence 1688, with tlie useful annotations of 
 Puccio Lamoni, a Florentine painter, who was 
 himself no contemptible poet. 
 
 The Lutein of Boileau was the second remark- 
 able poem, in which the Serious and Comic were 
 happily blended. Boileau himself has left us a 
 circumstantial account of what gave occasion to 
 this poem ; which account, because it is enter- 
 taining, and not printed in some later editions of 
 his works, I will insert at length. " I shall not 
 here act like Ariosto, who frequently, when he is 
 going to relate the most absurd story in the 
 world, solemnly protests it to be true, and sup- 
 ports it by the authority of archbishop Turpin. 
 For my part, I freely declare, the whole poem of 
 the Desk is nothing but pure fiction ; that it is 
 all invented, evcii to the name itself of the place 
 where the action passes. An odd occasion gave 
 rise to this poem. In a company I was lately en- 
 gaged in, the conversation turned upon epic 
 poetry : every one delivered his opinion, accord- 
 ing to his abilities : when mine was asked, I con- 
 firmed what I had advanced in my Art of Poetry, 
 tliat an heroic poem, to be truly excellent, ought 
 
 to
 
 204 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 to be charged with Httle matter, M'hich it was 
 the business of invention to support and extend. 
 The opinion was warmly contested : but, after 
 many reasons for and against, it happened, as it 
 generally does in this sort of disputes, that no- 
 body was convinced, and that each continued in 
 his own opinion. The heat of dispute being 
 over, we talked on other subjects ; and laughed at 
 the violence into which we had been betrayed, in 
 discussing a question of so little consequence. 
 We moralized on the folly of men who pass * 
 almost their whole lives in treating the greatest 
 trifles in a serious manner ; and in making to 
 themselves an important affair of something quite 
 indifferent. To this purpose, a country gentle- 
 man related a famous quarrel, that had lately hap- 
 pened in a little church in his province, between 
 the treasurer and the chantor, the two principal 
 dignitaries of that church, about the place in 
 which a reading-desk was to stand. We thought 
 it a ridiculous affair. Upon this, one of the 
 
 critics 
 
 * It ought to be remarked, that Boileau, in a subsequent 
 edition, 1683, withdrew this Preface. See Sect. XII. of this 
 Essay. Desmarets severely and acutely criticised some parts 
 of this poem.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 20J 
 
 critics in company, who could not so soon forget 
 our late dispute, asked me, if I, avIio thought 
 so little MATTER iiccessary for an heroic poem, 
 would undertake to write one on a quarrel so 
 little abounding in incidents, as this of the two 
 ecclesiastics ? I said, ^Vhy not ? before I had 
 even reflected on the question. This made the 
 company laugh, and I could not help laughing 
 with them ; not in the least imagining, that I 
 should ever be able to keep my word. But find- 
 ing myself at leisure in the evening, I revolved 
 the subject in my mind, and having considered 
 in every view the pleasantry that it would admit 
 of, I made twenty verses, which I shewed 
 to my friends. They were diverted with this 
 beginning. The pleasure which I saw these 
 gave them, induced me to v/rite twenty more. 
 Thus, from twenty verses to twenty, I length- 
 ened the work to near nine hundred. This is 
 the whole history of the trifle I now oflfer to 
 the public. It is a new kind of burlesque, 
 which I have introduced into our language ; 
 for as in the other kind of burlesque, that 
 of Scarron, Dido and .-Eneas spoke like fish- 
 worn eu
 
 Q06 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 women and porters, in this of mine, a * clock- 
 maker and his wife talk like Dido and iEneas. I 
 do not know whether my poem will have all the 
 qualities requisite to satisfy a reader : but I dare 
 flatter myself, that it will at least be allowed to 
 have the grace of novelty ; because I do not con- 
 ceive, that there are any works of this nature in 
 our language ; the Defaites des Bouts Rimes 
 of Sarasin being rather a mere allegory than a 
 poem, as this is," 
 
 On a subject seemingly so unpromising, and 
 incapable of ornament, has Boileau found a me- 
 thod of raising a poem full of beautiful imagery, 
 which appears like that magnificent cityf which 
 the greatest of princes caused to be built in a 
 morass. Boileau has enlivened this piece with 
 many unexpected incidents, and entertaining epi- 
 sodes ; 
 
 Maxima de nihilo nascitur historia. Prop. 
 
 particularly 
 
 * Altered afterwards to a Barber. See the commentary of 
 
 Brossette. 
 
 f Petersburg.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 207 
 
 particularly that of the Pcrriiquier, in the second 
 canto, and of the Battle of the Books, in the 
 liftli. The satire throughout is poignant, though 
 polite, to the last degree. The indolence and 
 luxury of the priests are ridiculed with the most 
 artful delicacy. What a picture has he drawn of 
 the chamher and bed of the treasurer, where 
 every thing was calculated to promote and pre- 
 serve inactivity and ease ! 
 
 Dans le r<5duit obscur d'un alcove eufonci^e* 
 S'eleve uu lit de plume a grands frais amassee. 
 Ciuatre rideaux pompeux, par un double contour. 
 En defendent Fentree a la clarte du jour. 
 La, parmi les douceurs d'un trauquiile silence, 
 Regne sur le duvet une heureuse Indolence. 
 C'est la que le Pr^lat, muni d'un dejeuner. 
 Dormant d'un leger somme, attendoit le diner. 
 La jeunesse en sa fleur brille sur son visage, 
 Son menton sur son s^in descend a double etage : 
 Et son corps ramass(J dans sa courte grosseur. 
 Fait gemir les coussins sous sa moUe dpaisseur.f 
 
 The astonishment of Gilotin, the treasurer's al- 
 moner, to find that his master intends to go out 
 
 before 
 
 * Compare with this the account of the Canon fed by his 
 Housekeeper, in Gil Bias. 
 
 f Chant, i.
 
 208 LSSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 before dinner, is extremely natural ; and his re- 
 monstrances are inimitably droll and pertinent : 
 
 Lui raontre le peril, que midi va sonner ; 
 Qu'il va faire, s'il sort, refroidir le diner. 
 
 Quelle fureur, dit-il, quel aveugle caprice, 
 Quand le diner est pret vous appelle a I'Office ? 
 De votre dignity soutenez niieux I'^clat. 
 Est-ce pour travailler que vous etes Prdlat? 
 A quoi bon ce ddgout & ce zele inutile ? 
 Est-il done pour jeuner Quatre temps, ou Vigile? 
 Reprenez vos esprits, & souvenez-vous bien, 
 Qu'un diner rechauffe ne valut jamais rien.* 
 
 How admirably is the character of an ignorant 
 and eating priest preserved in this speech of the 
 sleek and pampered Canon Evrard, one of the 
 drones, who, 
 
 In that exhaustless hive 
 
 On fat pluralities supinely thrive !f 
 
 Moi ? dit-il, qu'a mon age, Ecolier tout nouveau, 
 J'aille pour un Lutrin me troubler le cerveau ? 
 O le plaisant conseil ! non, non, songeons a vivre, 
 Vas maigrir, si tu veux, & secher sur un Livre. 
 Pour moi, je lis la Bible autant que I'Alcorau : 
 Je sai ce qu'un Fermier nous doit rendre par an : 
 Sur quelle vigne a Rheims nous avons hypoth^que; 
 
 Vingt 
 
 * Chant, i. f Isis.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 209 
 
 Vingt muids, rangez chez moi, soiit ma Bibliotheque. 
 
 En pla^ant un Pupitre oti croit nous rabbaisser, 
 
 Mon bras seul, sans Latin, saura le renverser. 
 
 Que m'iiTipoite qu'Arnauld me condanine ou m'approve ? 
 
 J'abbats ce qui me nuit par-tout od je Je trouve. 
 
 C'est la mon sentiment. A quo! bon tant d'apprets? 
 
 Du reste, dejeunons. Messieurs, &. buvons frais.* 
 
 His knowledge of the rents of his church, and 
 of the mortgages belonging to it, his scorn of 
 the pious and laborious Arnauld, his contempt of 
 learning, and, above all, his ruling passion of 
 good-eating, are strokes highly comic. It is 
 wonderful the ecclesiastics of France were not as 
 much irritated by the publication of the LuTRixf 
 as by the Tartu ffe of IMoliere, which was 
 suppressed by their interest after it had been 
 acted a few nights ; although, at the same time, 
 a very profane farce was permitted to have a 
 long run. When Louis XIV. J expressed to the 
 prince of Cond^, his wonder at the different 
 
 VOL. I. P fates 
 
 * Chant, iv. 
 
 f This poem was parodied by a M. de Eonnecorse, of Mar- 
 seilles, in a piece entitled, Lutrigot : the author had been ridi- 
 culed by Boileau in the 5th Book of the Lutrin. 
 
 X The king insisting upon Boileau's telling him who was the 
 mist original writer of bis time, he answered, Moliere.
 
 210 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 fates of these two pieces, and asked the reason of 
 it, the prince answered, " In the farce, Reli- 
 gion onli/ is ridiculed; but Mohere, in the Tar- 
 tu ffe, has attacked even the Priests." 
 
 BoiLEAU has raised his subjects by many per- 
 sonifications ; particularly, in the beginning of 
 the sixth canto. Piety, who had retired to the 
 great Carthusian monastery on the Alps, is intro- 
 duced as repairing to Paris, accompanied by 
 Faith, Hope, and Charity, in order to make 
 her complaint to Themis : to which may be 
 added, the monstrous figure of Chicanery, at- 
 tended by Famine, Want, Sorrow, and Ruin, 
 in the beginning of the fifth canto. The chief 
 divinity that acts throughout the poem, is Dis- 
 cord ; which goddess is represented as coming 
 from a convent of Cordeliers. A fine stroke of 
 satire ; but imitated from the satirical Ariosto, 
 who makes Michael find Discord in a cloister, 
 instead of Silence, whom he there searched for 
 in vain. Night is also introduced as an actress, 
 with great propriety, in the third canto ; where 
 she repairs to the famous old tower at Montlery, 
 in order to find out an owl which she may convey 
 1 into
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 211 
 
 into the Desk, and which afterwards produces 
 so ridiculous a consternation. Sloth is another 
 principal personage : she also is discovered in the 
 dormitory of a monastery.* 
 
 Les Plaisirs nonchalans folastrent a I'entour. 
 
 L'un paitritdans un coin I'embonpoint des Chanoines ; 
 
 L'autre broye ea riant le vermilion des Moines. f 
 
 The speech she afterwards makes has a pecu- 
 liar beauty, as it ends in the middle of a line, 
 and by that means shews her inability to pro- 
 ceed. 
 
 The third heroi-comic poem was the Dispen- 
 sary of Garth : a palpable imitation of the 
 Lutein, and the best satire on the physicians 
 extant, except the Sangkado of Le Sage, who 
 have, indeed, been the object of almost every 
 P 2 satirist. 
 
 * This was the monastery of Citeaux; and Boileau visited it 
 when he attended Louis XIV. in his march to Strasbourg. 
 The monks received the poet with great politeness and hospi- 
 tality, and desired him to shew them the place in their monas- 
 tery where this goddess lodged. 
 
 t Chant, ii.
 
 212 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 satirist. The behaviour and sentiments of SlotHj 
 the first imaginary being that occurs, are almost 
 literally translated from Boileau ; particularly the 
 compliment that Sloth pays to king William, 
 whose actions disturb her repose : 
 
 Or if some cloyster's refuge I implore. 
 Where holy drones o'er dying tapers snore; 
 The peals of Nassau's arms these eyes unclose. 
 Mine he molests, to give the world repose.* 
 
 Je croyois, loin des lieux d'ou ce prince m'exlle. 
 Que PEglise, du moins, m'assuroit un azile. 
 Mais envain j'esperois y regner sans efFroi : 
 Moines, Abbes, Prieurs, tout s'arme contra moi.f 
 
 Garth, in ridiculing the clergy, speaks of that 
 order with more acrimony than Boileau, who 
 merely laughs at them. He has introduced many 
 excellent parodies on the classics : among which 
 I cannot forbear quoting one, which is an imita- 
 tion of some passages, which the reader will re- 
 member, in Virgil's sixth book, and where the 
 circumstances are happily inverted. 
 
 Since 
 
 * Cant. i. f Chant, ii.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 213 
 
 * Since, said the ghost, with pity you'll attend. 
 Know, I'm Guiacum, once your firmest friend ; 
 And on this barren beach, in discontent. 
 Am doom'd to stay, 'till th' angry pow'rs relent. 
 These spectres seam'd with scars, that threaten here. 
 The victims of my late ill conduct are : 
 They vex with endless clamours my repose; 
 This wants his palate, that demands his nose ; 
 And here they execute stern Pluto's will. 
 And ply me eveiy moment with a pill.f 
 
 This author has been guilty of a strange im- 
 propriety, which cannot be excused, in making 
 the fury Disease talk like a critic, give rules of 
 writing, and a panegyric on the best poets of 
 the age/|; The descent into the earth in the 
 sixth canto, is a fine mixture of poetry and phi- 
 losophy ; the hint is taken from the § Syphilis 
 
 P 3 of 
 
 * Boileau says admirably of his physician, Chant. 4. Art. 
 Poet, 
 
 Le rhume a son aspect se change en pleurisie; 
 Et par lui la migraine est bient6t phrdnesie. 
 
 t Cant. vi. X Cant. iv. 
 
 § " Ed in vero nella Sifillide de I'autore fe connoscere quanto 
 una mente della filosofia rigenerata, ed incitata dal furor poetico 
 prevaglia ; e con quanto spirito muover possa, ed agitare le ma- 
 terie, che in se rivolge, e fuor di se in armoniosi versi diffonde.'' 
 
 Gravina. p. 124. lib. 1.
 
 214 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 of Fracastorius. Garth's versification is flowins: 
 and musical ; his style, perspicuous and neat ; 
 and the poem, in general, abounds with sallies of 
 wit, and nervous satire. 
 
 The Rape of the Lock, now before us, is 
 the fourth, and most excellent of the heroi-co-- 
 mic poems. The subject was a quarrel occa- 
 sioned by a little piece of gallantry of Lord Petre, 
 who, in a party of pleasure, found means to cut 
 off a favourite lock of Mrs. Arabella Termor's 
 hair. Pope M^as desired to write it, in order to 
 put an end to the quarrel it produced, by Mr. 
 Caryl, who had been secretary to Queen Mary, 
 author of Sir Solomon Single, a comedy, and of 
 some translations in Dryden's Miscellanies. Pope 
 was accustomed to say, ' AVhat I wrote fastest 
 always pleased most." The first sketch of this 
 exquisite piece, which Addison called Me rum 
 Sal, was written in less than a fortnight, in two 
 cantos only : but it was so universally applauded, 
 that, in the next year, our poet enriched it with 
 the machinery of the sylphs, and extended it to 
 five cantos ; when it was printed with a letter to 
 T\l rs. Fcrmor, far superior to any of Voiture. 
 
 The
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 215 
 
 The insertion of the machinery of the sylphs 
 in proper places, without the least appearance of 
 its being awkwardly stitched in, is one of the 
 happiest efforts of judgment and art. He took 
 the idea of these invisible beings, so proper to be 
 employed in a poem of this nature, from a little 
 French book entitled, Le Comte de Gabalis, of 
 wdiich is given the following account in an en- 
 tertaining writer. " The Abb6 Villars, who 
 came from Thoulouse to Paris, to make his for- 
 tune by preaching, is the author of this divert- 
 ing work. The five dialogues of which it con- 
 sists, are the result of those gay conversations 
 in which the Abbe was engaged with a small 
 circle of men, of fine wit and humour, like him- 
 self. When this book first appeared, it was uni- 
 versally read, as innocent and amusing. But at 
 length its consequences were perceived, and 
 reckoned dangerous, at a time when this sort of 
 curiosities began to gain credit. Our devout 
 preacher was denied the chair, and his book for- 
 bidden to be read. It was not clear whether 
 the author intended to be ironical, or spoke all 
 seriously. The second volume, which he pro- 
 mised, would have decided the question ; but 
 
 P 4 the
 
 216 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 the unfortunate Abbe was soon afterwards assassi- 
 nated by ruffians on the road to Lyons. The 
 laughers gave out, that the gnomes and sylphs, 
 disguised hke ruffians, had shot him, as a pu- 
 nishment for revealing the secrets of the Cabala ; 
 a crime not to be pardoned by these jealous spi- 
 rits, as Villars himself has declared in his book.* 
 
 It may not be improper to give a specimen of 
 this author's manner, who has lately been well 
 imitated in the way of mixing jest with earnest, 
 in an elegant piece called Hermippus Redivi- 
 vus. The Comte de Gabalis being about to 
 initiate his pupil into the most profound myste- 
 ries of the Rosicrusian philosophy, advises him 
 to consider seriously, whether or no he had cou- 
 rage and resolution sufficient to renounce all 
 those obstacles which might prevent his arising 
 to that height which the figure of his nativity 
 promised. " Le mot de renoncer, (says the 
 scholar,} m'effraya, & je ne doutai point qu'il 
 n'allat me proposer de renoncer au bapteme ou au 
 
 paradis. 
 
 * Melanges d'Histoire & de Litterature. By Dom Noel 
 Dargonne, disguised under the name of Vigncul Marville, 
 Tom. prem. pag. 275. edit, Rotterdam, 1700.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 217 
 
 paradis. Ainsi iie s^aclmnt comme me tlrer de ce 
 mauvais pas; Renoncer, lui dis-je, Monsieur 
 quoi-faut, il renoncer a quelque chose? Vraiment, 
 rcprit-il, il le faut bicn ; & il le faut si necessaire- 
 nient, qu'il faut commencer par-lA. Je ne s^ai 
 si vous pourrez vous resoudre : mais je scai bien 
 que la sagesse n'habite point dans un corps sujet 
 au peche, comnie elle n'entie point dans une ame 
 prevenue d'erreur ou de malice. Les sages ne 
 vous admettront jamais a leur compagnie, si vous 
 ne renoncez d^s a present a un chose qui ne peut 
 compatir avec la sagesse. 11 faut, ajouta-t-il tout 
 ])as en se baissant a mon oreille, il faut I'tnoncer a 
 tout commerce charnd avec les femmes.''* On a 
 diligent perusal of this book, I cannot find that 
 poPE has borrowed any particular circumstances 
 |relating to these spirits, but merely the general 
 idea of their existence.. 
 
 These machines are vastly superior to the alle- 
 gorical personages of Boileau and Garth; not 
 only on account of their novelty, but for the ex- 
 quisite poetry, and oblique satire, which they 
 
 have 
 
 * Le Comte de Gab.vlis, ou Entretiuns sur les Sciences 
 Secretes. Second Entretien, page 30. a Amsterdam, 1671.
 
 218 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 have given the poet an opportunity to display. 
 The business and petty concerns of a fine lady, 
 receive an air of importance from the notion of 
 their being perpetually overlooked, and conduct- 
 ed, by the interposition of celestial agents. 
 
 It is judicious to open the poem, by introdu- 
 cing the Guardian Sylph warning Belinda against 
 some secret impending danger. The account 
 which Ariel* gives of the nature, office, and em- 
 ployment, of these inhabitants of air, is finely 
 fancied ; into which several strokes of satire are 
 thrown with great delicacy and address. 
 
 Think what an equipage thou hast in air. 
 And view with scorn two pages and a chair. 
 
 The transformation of women of different tem- 
 pers into different kinds of spirits, cannot be too 
 much applauded. 
 
 + The sprites of fiery Termagants, in flame 
 Mount up, and take a salamander's name. 
 
 * Cant. i. ver. 27. to ver. 1 14. 
 
 Soft 
 
 •j- These images have been lately expressed in Latin, with 
 much purity and elegance ; and deserve to be here inserted. 
 
 Mortua
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 219 
 
 Soft yielding minds to water glide away. 
 And sip with Nymphs, their elemental tea. 
 The graver Prude sinks downward to a gnome. 
 In search of mischief still on earth to roam. 
 The light Coquettes in sylphs aloft repair. 
 And sport and flutter in the fields of air. 
 
 The description of the * toilette, which succeeds, 
 is judiciously given in such magnificent terms as 
 dignify the offices performed at it. Belinda dress- 
 ing, is painted in as pompous a manner as Achil- 
 les arming. The canto ends with a circumstance 
 artfully contrived to keep this beautiful machi- 
 nery 
 
 Mortua lascivum resoluta liquescit in ignem, 
 
 Aut abit in molles singula nympha notos; 
 jEtheriosque trahens haustus, tenuissima turba, 
 
 Versat ad aestivum lucida membra jubar. 
 Gaudet adhuc circum molles operosa puellas 
 
 Versari, et veneres suppeditare novas. 
 Curat uli dulces commendent oscula risus, 
 
 Purior ut sensim prodeat ore rubor : 
 Ne quatiat comptos animosior aura capillos, 
 
 Ne-c fsedet pulcras pustula sasva genas : 
 Neve recens macula violetur purpura palli, 
 
 Excidat aut niveo pendula gemma sinu. 
 Corpora nympharum vacuas tenuentur in auras; 
 
 At studia in meuiori pectore prisca manent. 
 
 Carm. Quadrages. vol. ii. pag. 32, Oxon. 1748. 
 
 * Cant. i. ver. 121.
 
 220 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 nery in the reader's eye : for after the poet has 
 said, that the fair heroine 
 
 Repairs her smiles, awakens ev'ry grace. 
 And calls forth all the wonders of her face,* 
 
 He immediately subjoins, 
 
 The busy sylphs surround their darling care ; 
 These set the head, and those divide the hair : 
 Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown; 
 And Betty's prais'd for labours not her own. 
 
 The mention of the Lock,! on which the 
 poem turns, is rightly reserved to the second 
 canto. The sacrifice of the Baron to implore 
 success to his undertaking, is another instance of 
 our poet's judgment, in heightening the subject. J 
 The succeeding scene of sailing upon the Thames 
 is most gay and delightful, and impresses very 
 pleasing pictures upon the imagination. Here, 
 too, the machinery is again introduced with much 
 propriety. Ariel summons his denizens of air, 
 
 who 
 
 •* Ver. 141. t Cant. ii. ver. 21, 
 
 X Ver. 37.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 221 
 
 ■vvho are thus painted with a rich exuberance of 
 fancy : 
 
 Some to the sun their insect wings unfold. 
 
 Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold : 
 
 Transparent forms, too thin for mortal sight. 
 
 Their fluid bodies half dissolv'd in light. 
 Loose to the wind their airy garments flew. 
 
 Thin glittering textures of the filmy dew. 
 
 Dipt in the richest tincture of the skies, 
 
 "Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes; 
 
 While every beam new transient colours flings ; 
 
 Colours, that change whene'er they wave their wings.*" 
 
 Ariel afterwards enumerates the functions and 
 employments of the sylphs, in the following 
 manner ; where some are supposed to delight in 
 more gross, and others in more refined, occupa- 
 tions. 
 
 Ye know the spheres and various tasks, assign'd 
 By laws eternal to th' aerial kind. 
 Some in the fields of purest aether play. 
 And bask and brighten in the blaze of day ; 
 Some guide the course of wand'ring orbs on high. 
 Or roll the planets through the boundless sky ; 
 Some, less refin'd, beneath the moon's pale light. 
 Pursue the stars, that shoot across the night. 
 
 Or 
 
 * Ver. 59.
 
 222 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Or suck the mists in grosser air below. 
 Or dip their pinions in the painted bow. 
 Or brew fierpe tempests on the wintry main. 
 Or o'er the glebe distil the kindly rain.* 
 
 Those who are fond of tracing images and sen- 
 timents to their source, may, perhaps, be inclined 
 to think, that the hint of ascribing tasks and 
 offices to such imaginary beings, is taken from 
 the Fairies and the Ariel of Shakespeare : let the 
 impartial critic determine which has the supe- 
 riority of fancy. The employment of Ariel, in 
 the Tempest, is said to be, 
 
 — To tread the ooze 
 
 Of the salt deep ; 
 
 To run upon the sharp wind of the north ; 
 To do — business in the veins of th' earth. 
 When it is bak'd with frost ; 
 
 To dive into the fire ; to ride 
 
 On the curl'd clouds. 
 
 And again, 
 
 In the deep nook, where once 
 
 Thou call'd'stme up at midnight, to fetch dew 
 From the still-vext Bermoothes. — — — 
 
 Nor 
 
 * Cant. ii. ver. 75.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 223 
 
 Nor must I omit that exquisite song, in which 
 his favourite and pecuHar pastime is expressed. 
 
 Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; 
 
 In a cowslip's bell I lie ; 
 
 There I couch when owls do cry. 
 
 On the bat's back I do fly. 
 
 After sun-set, merrily : 
 Merrily, merrily, shall I live now. 
 Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. 
 
 With what wildness of imagination, but yet 
 with wliat propriety, are the amusements of the 
 fairies pointed out in the Midsummer Night's 
 Dream : amusements proper for none but fairies ! 
 
 'Fore the third part of a minute, hence : 
 
 Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds : 
 Some war with rear-mice for their leathern wings. 
 To make my small elves coats ; and some keep back 
 The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders 
 At our queint spirits. 
 
 Shakespeare only could have thought of the fol- 
 lowing gratifications for Titania's lover ; and they 
 are fit only to be offered, to her lover, by a fairy- 
 queen. 
 
 Be
 
 224 ESSAY ON THE GENltTS 
 
 Be kiud and courteous to this gentleman ; 
 Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; 
 Feed him with apiicocks and dewberries. 
 With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries.- 
 The honey-bags steal from the humble bees. 
 And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs, 
 And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes. 
 To have my love to bed, and to arise : 
 And pluck the wings from painted butterflies. 
 To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes. 
 
 If it should be thought, that Shakespeare has 
 the merit of being the first who assigned proper 
 employments to imaginary persons in the fore- 
 going lines, yet it must be granted, that by the 
 addition of the most delicate satire to the most 
 lively fancy, Pope, in the following passage, has 
 excelled any thing in Shakespeare, or perhaps in 
 any other author. 
 
 Our humbler province is to tend the fair ; 
 
 ISot a less pleasing, though less glorious care ; . 
 
 To save the powder from too rough a gale, 
 
 Kor let th' imprison'd essences exhale ; 
 
 To draw fresh colours from the vernal flow'rs. 
 
 To steal from rainbows, ere they drop in show'rsy 
 
 A brighter wash ; to curl their waving hairs. 
 
 Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs ; 
 
 Kay, oft in dreams invention we bestow. 
 
 To change a flounce, or add a furbelow.* 
 
 The 
 
 * Cant. ii. ver. 91.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 225 
 
 The seeming importance given to every part of 
 female dress, each of which is committed to tlie 
 care and protection of a different sylph, with all 
 the solemnity of a general appointing the several 
 posts in his army, renders the following passage 
 admirable, on account of its politeness, poig- 
 nancy, and poetry. 
 
 Haste then, ye spirits, to your charge repair ; 
 The fluttering fan be Zephyretta's care ; 
 The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign ; 
 And, Momentilia, let the watch be thine : 
 Do thou, Crispissa, tend the fav'rite lock : 
 Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock.* 
 
 The celebrated raillery of Addison on the hoop- 
 petticoat, has nothing equal to the following cir- 
 cumstance ; which marks the difficulty of guard- 
 ing a part of dress of such high consequence. 
 
 To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note. 
 
 We trust th' important charge, the Petticoat : 
 
 Oft have we known that sevenfold fence to fail, 
 
 Tho' stiff with hoops, and arm'd with ribs of whale ; 
 
 Form a strong line about the silver bound, 
 
 And guard the wide circumference around. f 
 
 RiDET 
 
 * Caut. ii. ver. 111. t Cant. ii. ver. 117.
 
 22^ ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 RiDET HOC, INQUAM, VeNUS IPSA ; RIDENT 
 
 SiMPLicEs Nymphs:, ferus et Ccpido. 
 
 Our poet still rises in the delicacy of his satire, 
 Avhere he employs, with the utmost judgment 
 and elegance, all the implements and furniture of 
 the toilette, as instruments of punishment to 
 those spirits who shall be careless of their charge: 
 of punishment such as sylphs alone could under- 
 go. Each of the deHnquents 
 
 Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins ; 
 Be stopp'd in vials, or transfix'd with pins ; 
 Or plung'd in lakes of bitter washes lie ; 
 Or wedg'd whole ages in a bodkin's eye ; 
 Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain. 
 While clogg'd he beats his silken wings in vain ; 
 Or allum-styptics, with contracting pow'r. 
 Shrink his thin essence like a shrivel'd flow'r ; 
 Or, as Ixion fix'd, the wretch shall feel 
 The giddy motion of the whirling mill ; 
 In fumes of burning chocolate shall glow. 
 And tremble at the sea that froths below.* 
 
 If Virgil has merited such perpetual commenda- 
 dation for exalting his bees by the majesty and 
 
 magnificence 
 
 * Cant. ii. ver. 125.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 227 
 
 magnificence of his diction, does not Pope de- 
 serve equal praises for the pomp and lustre of 
 his language on so trivial a subject ? 
 
 The same mastery of language appears in the 
 lively and elegant description of the game at 
 Ombre, which is certainly imitated from the 
 Scacchia of Vida, and as certainly equal to it, if 
 not superior. Both of them have elevated and 
 enlivened their subjects, by such similies as the 
 epic poets use ; but as Chess is a play of a far 
 higher order than Ombre, Pope had a more dif- 
 ficult task than Vida, to raise this his inferior 
 subject into equal dignity and gracefulness. 
 Here again our poet artfully introduces his ma- 
 chinery : 
 
 Soon as she spreads her hand, th' aerial guard 
 Descend, and sit on each important card ; 
 First Ariel perch'd upon a mattadore.* 
 
 The majesty with which the kings of spades and 
 
 clubs, and the knaves of diamonds and clubs, 
 
 are spoken of, is very amusing to the imagina- 
 
 Q 2 tion : 
 
 * Cant. iii. ver. 31.
 
 228 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 tion : and the whole game is conducted with 
 great art and judgment. I question whether 
 Hoyle could have played it better than Belinda. 
 It is finely contrived that she should be victori- 
 ous ; as it occasions a change of fortune in the 
 dreadful loss she was speedily to undergo, and 
 gives occasion to the poet to introduce a moral 
 reflection from Virgil, which adds to the plea- 
 santry of the story. In one of the passages 
 where Po pe has copied Vida, he has lost the pro- 
 priety of the original, which arises from the dif- 
 ferent colours of the men at Chess. 
 
 Thus, when dispers'd a routed army runs, &c.* 
 
 Non aliter, campis legio se buxea utrinque 
 Composuit, duplici digestis ordine turniis, 
 Adversisque ambae fulsere coloribus alae ; 
 Quam Gallorum acies, Alpino frigore lactea 
 Corpora, si tendant albis in preelia signis, 
 Auroras populos contra, et Phsethonte perustos 
 Insano jEthiopas, et nigri Memnonis alas.f 
 
 To this scene succeeds the tea-table. It is, 
 doubtless, as hard to make a coffee-pot shine in 
 poetry as a plough : yet Pope has succeeded in 
 
 * Cant. iii. ver. 81. f Vidae Scacchia Ludus, ver. 7-t, &c.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 229 
 
 giving elegance to so familiar an object, as well 
 as Virgil. The guardian spirits are again active, 
 and importantly employed : 
 
 Strait hover round the fair her airy band ;* 
 Some, as she sipp'd, the fuming liquor fanned. 
 
 Then follows an instance of assiduity fancied 
 with great delicacy : 
 
 Some o'er her lap their careful plumes display'd. 
 Trembling, and conscious of the rich brocade. 
 
 But nothing can excel the behaviour of the 
 sylphs, and their wakeful solicitude for their 
 charge, when the danger grows more imminent, 
 and the catastrophe approaches. 
 
 Swift to the Lock a thousand sprites repair.f 
 
 The methods by which they endeavoured to pre- 
 serve her from the intended mischief, are such 
 
 Q 3 only 
 
 * Cant. iii. ver. 113. 
 
 t It is remarkable that Madame de Sevigne has mentioned 
 the sylphs as invisible attendants, and as interested in the 
 affairs of the ladies, in the 101st, 104th, 195th, of her Letters.
 
 9,30 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 only as could be executed by a sylph ; and have 
 therefore an admirable propriety, as well as the 
 
 utmost elegance. 
 
 A thousand wings by turns blow back the hair,* 
 And thrice they twitch'd the diamond in her ear ; 
 Thrice she look'd backj and thrice the foe drew near. 
 
 Still farther to heighten the piece, and to pre- 
 serve the characters of his machines to the last, 
 just when the fatal f forfex was spread, 
 
 Ev'n then, before the fatal engine closed,;}; 
 
 A wretched sylph too fondly interpos'd ; 
 
 Fate urgM the sheers, and cut the sylph in twain, 
 
 (But airy substance soon unites again.)— — 
 
 Which last line is an admirable parody on that 
 passage of Milton, which, perhaps oddly enough, 
 describes Satan wounded : 
 
 The 
 
 * Cant, iii, ver. 136. 
 
 ■f Observe the many periphrases, and uncommon appella- 
 tions. Pope has used for Scissars, which would sound too vul- 
 gar, — " Fatal Engine, — " Forfex, — "• Sheers, — •' Meeting 
 Points, &c." 
 
 % Cant. iii. ver. 149.
 
 AND WRITINGS OP POPE. 231 
 
 The griding sword, with discontinuous wound, 
 Pass'd thro' him; but th' ethereal substance clos'd. 
 Not long divisible.* — — — — 
 
 The parodies are some of the most exquisite parts 
 of this poem. That which follows from the 
 ** Diim juga montis aper," of Virgil, contains 
 some of the most artful strokes of satire, and 
 the most poignant ridicule imaginable. 
 
 While fish in streams, or birds delight in air. 
 Or in a coach and six the British fair. 
 As long as Atalantis shall be read. 
 Or the small pillow grace a lady's bed. 
 While visits shall be paid on solemn days. 
 When numerous wax-lights in bright order blaze. 
 While nymphs take treats, or assignations give. 
 So long my honor, name, and praise, shall live.f 
 
 The introduction of frequent parodies on se- 
 rious and solemn passages of Homer and Virgil, 
 give much life and spirit to heroi-comic poetry. 
 " Tu dors, Prelat? tu dors?" in Boileau, is 
 the *' Ev$£ig A7^£(^ uje" of Homer, and is full of 
 Q 4 humour. 
 
 * Paradise Lost, Book vi. ver. 329. 
 f Cant. iii. ver. 163.
 
 232 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 humour. The wife of the barber talks in the 
 language of Dido in her expostulations to her 
 iEneas, at the beginning of the second canto of 
 the Lutrin. Pope's parodies of the speech of 
 Sarpedon, in Homer,* and of the description of 
 Achilles's sceptre, f together with the scales of 
 Jupiter, from Homer, Virgil, and Milton,^ are 
 judiciously introduced in their several places ; 
 are, perhaps, superior to those Boileau or Garth 
 have used ; and are worked up with peculiar 
 pleasantry. The mind of the reader is engaged 
 by novelty, when it so unexpectedly finds a 
 thought, or object, it had been accustomed to 
 survey in another form, suddenly arrayed in a 
 ridiculous garb. A mixture of comic and ridi- 
 culous images, with serious and important ones, 
 adds, also, no small beauty to this species of 
 poetry. As in the following passages, where 
 real and imaginary distresses are coupled toge- 
 ther : 
 
 Not youthful kings, in battle seiz'd alive ;§ 
 Kot scornful virgins, who their charms survive ; 
 
 Not 
 
 * Cant. V. ver. 9. f Cant. iv. ver. 1 33. 
 
 + Cant, v. ver. 71. § Cant. iv. ver. 3.
 
 AND WillTINGS OF POPE. 233 
 
 Not ardent lovers, robbM of all their bliss ; 
 Not ancient ladies, when refus'd a kiss ; 
 Not tyrants fierce, that unrepenting die ; 
 
 Nay, to carry the climax still higher, 
 
 Not Cynthia, when her manteau's pinn'd awry. 
 E'er felt such rage, resentment, and despair. 
 
 This is much superior to a similar passage in the 
 Dispensary, which Pope might have in his eye : 
 
 At this the victors own such ecstacies,* 
 
 As Memphian priests if their Osiris sneeze ; 
 
 Or champions with Olympic clangor fir'd ; 
 
 Or simp'ring prudes, with spritely Nanlz inspir'd ; 
 
 Or Sultans, rais'd from dungeons to a crown ; 
 
 Or fasting zealots, when the sermon's done. 
 
 These objects have no reference to Garth's sub- 
 ject, as almost all of Pope's have, in the passage 
 in question, where some female foible is glanced 
 at. In this same canto, the cave of Spleen, the 
 pictures of her attendants, Ill-nature and Af- 
 fectation, the effects of the vapour that hung 
 over her palace, the imaginary diseases she occa- 
 sions, 
 
 * Cant, V. ad calc.
 
 234f ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 sions, the * speech of Umbriel, a gnome, to this 
 malignant deity, the vial of female sorrows, the 
 speech of Thalestris to aggravate the misfortune, 
 the breaking the vial, with its direful effects, and 
 the speech of the disconsolate Belinda ; all these 
 circumstances are poetically imagined, and are 
 far superior to'any of Boileau and Garth. How 
 much in character is it for Belinda to mark a very 
 dismal and solitary situation, by wishing to be 
 conveyed 
 
 Where the gilt chariot never marks the way. 
 Where none learn Ombre, none e'er taste Bohea.f 
 
 Nothing 
 
 * Especially when he adjures the goddess by an account of 
 his services. Cant. iv. ver. 71. 
 
 If e'er with airy horns I planted heads. 
 Or rumpled petticoats, or tumbled beds. 
 Or caus'd suspicion where no soul was rude. 
 Or discompos'd the head-dress of a prude. 
 Or e'er to costive lap-dog gave disease — — 
 Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin. 
 That single act gives half the world the spleen. 
 
 Nothing can equal this beautiful panegyric, but the satirical 
 touches that go before. 
 
 -J- Cant. iv. ver. 155.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 235 
 
 Nothing is more common in the poets, than to 
 introduce omens as preceding some important 
 and dreadful event. Virgil has strongly de- 
 scribed those that preceded the death of Dido. 
 The rape of BeHnda's Lock must necessarily also 
 be attended with alarming prodigies. With what 
 exquisite satire are they enumerated ! 
 
 Thrice from my trembling hand the patch-box fell ; 
 
 The tottering china shook without a wind.* 
 
 And still more to aggravate the direfulness of the 
 Impending evil. 
 
 Nay, Poll sate mute, and Shock was most unkind ! 
 
 The chief subject of the fifth and last canto, 
 is the battle that ensues, and the endeavours of 
 the ladies to recover the hair. This battle is de- 
 scribed, as it ought to be, in very lofty and 
 pompous terms : a game of romps was never so 
 well dignified before. The weapons made use of 
 are the most proper imaginable : the lightning of 
 tlie ladies eyes, intolerable frowns, a pinch of 
 
 snuff, 
 
 * Cant. iv. ver. 162,
 
 236 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 snuff, and a bodkin. The machinery is not for- 
 got : 
 
 Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's height, 
 Clapp'd his glad wings, and sate to view the fight.* 
 
 Again, when the snuff is given to the Baron, 
 
 The gnomes direct, to ev'ry atom just. 
 The pungent grains of titillating dust.f 
 
 Boileau and Garth have also each of them enh- 
 vened their pieces with a mock-fight. But Boi- 
 leau has laid the scene of his action in a neio-h- 
 bouring bookseller's shop, where the combatants 
 encounter each other by chance. This conduct 
 is a little inartificial ; but has given the satirist an 
 opportunity of indulging his ruling passion, the 
 exposing the -bad poets with which France at 
 that time abounded. Swift's Battle of the Books, 
 at the end of the Tale of a Tub, is evidently 
 taken from this J battle of Boileau, which is ex- 
 cellent in its kind. The fight of the physicians, 
 
 in 
 
 * Cant. V. ver. 53. f Cant. v. ver. 83. 
 
 + Cant. V.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 237 
 
 in the Dispensary, is one of its most shining 
 parts. There is a vast deal of propriety, as well 
 as pleasantry, in the weapons Garth has given 
 to his warriors. They are armed, much in cha- 
 racter, with caustics, emetics, and cathartics ; 
 with buckthorn, and steel-pills ; with syringes, 
 bed-pans, and urinals. The execution is exactly 
 proportioned to the deadliness of such irresistible 
 Aveapons ; and the wounds inflicted are suitable to 
 the nature of each different instrument said to 
 inflict them.* 
 
 We are now arrived at the grand catastrophe 
 of the poem : the invaluable Lock which is so 
 eagerly sought, is irrecoverably lost ! And here 
 our poet has made a judicious use of that cele- 
 brated fiction of Ariosto, that all things lost on 
 earth are treasured in the moon. How such a 
 fiction can properly have place in an epic poem, 
 it becomes the defenders of this agreeably extra- 
 vagant writer to justify ; but in a comic poem, 
 it appears with grace and consistency. The 
 whole passage in Ariosto is full of wit and satire; 
 for wit and satire were, perhaps, the chief and 
 
 characteristical 
 
 * Caut. r.
 
 238 ESSAT ON THE GENIUS 
 
 characteristical of the many striking excellencies 
 of Ariosto.* In this repository in the lunar 
 sphere, says the sprightly Italian, were to be 
 found, 
 
 Le lachrime, e i sospiri de gli amanti, 
 L'inutir tempo, che si perde a gioco, 
 E 1' otio lungo d'huomini ignorant!, 
 Vani disegni, che non ban mai loco, 
 I vani desiderii sono tanti, 
 Che la piu parte ingombra di quel loco, 
 
 Cio 
 
 * It' this be thought too harsh a criticism on this justly ce- 
 lebrated Italian, I am ready to adopt the following opinion of 
 a writer of taste and penetration. 
 
 " Ariosto pleases ; but not by his monstrous and improbable 
 fictions, by his bizarre mixture of the serious and comic styles, 
 by the want of coherence in his stories, or by the continual in- 
 terruptions in his narration. He charms by the force and clear- 
 ness of his expression, by the readiness and variety of his in- 
 ventions, and by his natural pictures of the passions, espe- 
 cially those of the gay and amorous kind. And however his 
 faults may diminish our satisfaction, they are not able entirely 
 to destroy it. Did our pleasure really arise from those parts of 
 his poem which we denominate faults, this would be no objec- 
 tion to criticism in general ; it would only be an objection to 
 those particular rules of criticism, which would establish such 
 circumstances to be faults, and would represent them as univer- 
 sally blameable. If they are found to please, they cannot be 
 faults ; let the pleasure which they produce be ever so unex- 
 pected and unaccountable." Hume's Four Dissektations. 
 Diss, iv. p. 212. London, 1757. 
 
 1
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 239 
 
 Cio che in summa qua giu perdesti mai. 
 La su saltendo ritrovar potrai.* 
 
 It is very remarkable, that the poet had the bold- 
 ness to place among these imaginary treasures, 
 the famous deed of gift of Constantine to Pope 
 Silvester. " If (says he) I may be allowed to 
 say this, 
 
 Questo era il dono (se pero dir lece) 
 Che Constantino al buon Silvestre fcce. 
 
 It may be observed in general, to the honour of 
 the poets, both ancient and modern, that they 
 have ever been some of the first who have de- 
 tected and opposed the false claims, and mis- 
 chievous usurpations, of superstition and slavery. 
 Nor can this be wondered at, since these two 
 are the greatest enemies, not only to all true hap- 
 piness, but to all true genius. 
 
 The denouement, as a pedantic disciple of 
 Bossu M^ould call it, of this poem, is well con- 
 ducted. What is become of this important Lock 
 
 OF 
 
 * Orlando Furioso. Cant, xxxiv.
 
 240 ESSAY ON- THE GENIUS 
 
 OF Hair? It is made a constellation with that 
 of Berenice, so celebrated by Callimachus. As 
 it rises to heaven, 
 
 The sylphs behold it kindling as it flies,* 
 
 And pleas'd pursue its progress through the skies. 
 
 One cannot sufficiently applaud the art of the 
 poet, in constantly keeping in the reader's view, 
 the machinery of the poem, to the very last. 
 Even when the Lock is transformed, the sylphs, 
 ■who had so carefully guarded it, are here once 
 again artfully mentioned, as finally rejoicing in 
 its honourable transformation. 
 
 In readins: the Lutrin, I have alwavs been 
 struck with the impropriety of so serious a con- 
 clusion as Boileau has given to so ludicrous a 
 poem. Piety and Justice are beings rather 
 too awful to have any concern in the celebrated 
 Desk. They appear as much out of place and 
 season, as would the archbishop of Paris in his 
 
 pontifical robes in an harlequin entertainment. 
 
 *■ 
 
 Pope 
 
 * Cant. V. ver. 131.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 241 
 
 Pope does not desert his favourite Lock, even 
 after it becomes a constellation ; and the uses he 
 assigns to it are, indeed, admirable, and have a 
 reference to the subject of the poem : 
 
 This the beau monde shall from the Mall survey,"'^ 
 And hail with music its propitious ray; 
 This the blest lover shall for Venus take. 
 And send up prayers from Rosamunda's lake ; 
 This Partridge soon shall view in cloudless skies. 
 When next he looks through Galileo's eyes ; 
 And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom 
 The fate of Loqis, and the fall of Rome. 
 
 This is at once, dulce loqui, and ridere de- 
 corum. 
 
 Upon the whole, I hope it will not be thought 
 an exaggerated panegyric to say, that the Rape 
 OF THE Lock is the best satire extant ; that 
 it contains the truest and liveliest picture of mo- 
 dern life ; and that the subject is of a more 
 elegant nature, as well as more artfully conduct- 
 ed, than that of any other heroi-comic poem. 
 Pope here appears in the light of a man of gal- 
 
 yoL. I. R lantry, 
 
 * Caot. V. ver 133.
 
 242 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 lantry, and of a thorough knowledge of the 
 world ; and, indeed, he had nothing, in his car- 
 riage and deportment, of that affected singula- 
 rity, which has induced some men of genius to 
 despise, and depart from, the established rules 
 of politeness and civil life. For all poets have 
 not practised the sober and rational advice of 
 Boileau : 
 
 Que les vers ne soient pas votre eternel emploi : 
 Ciiltivez vos amis, soyez homme de foi. 
 Cast peu d' etre agr^able et charmant dans un livre ; 
 II fait savoir encore, et converser, et vivre.* 
 
 Our nation can boast also, of having produced 
 one or two more poems of the burlesque kind, 
 that are excellent; particularly the Splendid 
 Shilling, that admirable copy of the solemn 
 irony of Cervantes, who is the father and unri- 
 valled model of the true mock-heroic : and the 
 MusciPULA, written with the purity of Virgil, 
 whom the author so perfectly understood, and 
 \vitl»i the pleasantry of Lucian : to which I can- 
 not forbear adding, the Scribleriad of Mr. 
 
 Cambridge, 
 
 * L'Art Poetique, Chant, iv.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF. POPE. 243 
 
 Cambridge,* the MACHiNiE Gesticulantes of 
 Addison, the Hobbinol of Somerville, and the 
 Trivia of Gay. 
 
 If some of the most candid among the French 
 critics begin to acknowledge, that they have pro- 
 duced nothing, in point of Sublimity and Ma- 
 jesty, equal to the Paradise Lost, we may also 
 venture to affirm, that, in point of Delicacy, 
 Elegance, and fine-turned Raillery, on which 
 they have so much valued themselves, they have 
 produced nothing equal to the Rape of the 
 Lock. It is in this composition Pope principally 
 
 R 2 appears 
 
 * This learned and ingenious writer hath made a new re- 
 mark, in hrs preface, worth examination and attention. He 
 says, that in first reading the four celebrated mock-heroic 
 poems, he perceived they had all some radical defect. That 
 at last he found, by a diligent perusal of Don Quixote, that 
 Propriety was the fundamental excellence of that work. That 
 all the Marvellous was reconcileable to Proiriii//(y, as the au- 
 thor lead his hero into that species of absurdity only, which it 
 was natural for an imagination heated with the continual read- 
 ing of books of chivalry to fall into. That the want of atten- 
 tion to this, was the fundamental error of those poems. For 
 with what Propriety do Churchmen,'' Physicians, Beaux, and 
 'Belles, or Booksellers, in the Lutrin, Dispensary, Rape of the 
 Lock, and Dunciad, address themselves to heathen Gods, offer 
 sacrifices, consult oracles, or talk the language of Homer, and 
 of the heroes of antiquity ?
 
 244 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 appears a Poet, in which he has displayed more 
 imagination than in all his other works taken 
 together. It should, however, be remembered, 
 that he was not the first former and creator of 
 those beautiful machines, the sylphs, on which 
 his claim to imagination is chiefly founded. He 
 found them existing ready to his hand ; but has, 
 indeed, employed them with singular judgment 
 and artifice. 
 
 SECTION
 
 AND WRITINGS Of POPE. 245 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 OF THE ELEGY TO THE MEMORY OF AN 
 UNFORTUNATE LADY, THE PROLOGUE 
 TO CATO, AND THE EPILOGUE 
 TO JANE SHORE. 
 
 jL he Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate 
 Lady, which is next to be spoken of, as it came 
 •from the heart, is very tender and pathetic ; more 
 so, I think, than any other copy of verses of our 
 author. We are unacquainted with the whole of 
 her history, and with that series of misfortunes 
 which seems to have drawn on the melancholy 
 catastrophe alluded to in the beginning- of this 
 Elegy. She is said to be the same person to 
 whom the Duke of Buckingham has addressed 
 some lines, viz. " To a Lady designing to retire 
 into a Monastery." This design is also hinted at 
 in Pope's Letters,* where he says, in a letter 
 
 R 3 addressed, 
 
 •* Vol. vii. p. 193. Octavo Edition.
 
 Q4t6 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 addressed, I presume, to this very person, " If 
 you are resolved, in revenge, to rob the world 
 of so much example as you may afford it, I be- 
 lieve your design will be vain : for even in a 
 monastery, your devotions cannot carry you so 
 far towards the next world, as to make this lose 
 sight of you : but you will be like a star, that, 
 while it is fixed in heaven, shines over all the 
 earth. Wheresoever Providence shall dispose of 
 the most valuable thing I know, 'I shall ever 
 follow you with my sincerest Avishes ; and my 
 best thoughts will be perpetually waiting upon 
 you, when you never hear of me or them. Your 
 own guardian angels cannot be more constant, 
 nor more silent." 
 
 This Elegy opens with a striking abruptness, 
 and a strong image; the poet fancies he be- 
 holds suddenly the phantom of his murdered 
 friend : 
 
 What beck'ning ghost along the moonlight shade. 
 Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade ? 
 'Tis she ! — But why that bleeding bosom gor'd ? 
 Why dimly gleams the visionary sword ? 
 
 7hh
 
 AND WRITINGS OF PORE. 247 
 
 This question alarms the reader, and puts one in 
 mind of that lively and affecting image in the 
 prophecy of Isaiah, so vigorously conceived, 
 that it places the object full in one's eyes : 
 " Who is this that cometh from Edom ? with 
 dyed garments from Bbsra ?"'* Akenside has be- 
 gun one of his odes in the like manner ; 
 
 O fly ! 'tis dire Suspicion's mien J 
 And meditating plagues unseen. 
 
 The sorc'ress hither bends ! 
 Behold her torch in gall imbru'd ; 
 Behold her garments drop with blood 
 
 Of lovers and of friends ! 
 
 The execrations on the cruelties of this lady's 
 relations, which had driven her to this deplorable 
 extremity, are very spirited and forcible; espe- 
 cially where the poet says emphatically, 
 
 Thus, if eternal justice rules the ball. 
 
 Thus shall your wives, and thus your children fall. 
 
 He describes afterwards the desolation of this 
 
 family, by the following lively circumstance and 
 
 prosopopoeia : . . 
 
 R4 There 
 
 * Chap. Ixiii. ver. 1.
 
 248 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 There passengers shall stand, and pointing say, 
 (While the long funerals blacken all the way,) 
 Lo ! these were they whose souls the furies steel'd. 
 And curst with hearts unknowing how to yield ! 
 So pei'ish all whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow 
 For others good, or melt at others woe. 
 
 The incident of her dying in a country remote 
 from her relations and acquaintance, is touched 
 with great tenderness, and introduced with pro- 
 priety, to aggravate and heighten her lamentable 
 fate : 
 
 No friend's complaint, no kind domestic tear,* 
 
 Pleas'd thy pale ghost, or grac'd thy mournful bier : 
 
 By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd. 
 
 By foreign hands thy decent limbs compos'd. 
 
 By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd. 
 
 By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd ! 
 
 The force of the repetition of the significant 
 epithet ybre/g-w, need not be pointed out to any 
 reader of sensibility. The right of sepulture, of 
 which she was deprived from the manner of lier 
 
 death, 
 
 * Something like that pathetic stroke in the Philocteles of 
 Sophocles, who, among other heavy circumstances of distress, 
 is said not to have near him, any avyl^opo^ o(aiji.x. Ver. 171.— * 
 Not to be translated.
 
 AXD WRITINGS OF POPE. 249 
 
 death, is glanced at with great delicacy ; nay, 
 and a very poetical use is made of it : 
 
 What though no sacred earth allow thee room. 
 Nor hallow'd dirge be mutter'd o'er thy tomb. 
 Yet shall thy grave with rising flowers be drest. 
 And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast; 
 There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow. 
 There the first roses of the year shall blow. 
 
 If this Elegy be so excellent, it may be 
 ascribed to this cause, that the occasion of it was 
 real ; for it is certainly an indisputable maxim, 
 '' That nature is more powerful than fancy ; 
 that we can always feel more than we can iina- 
 o'ine : and that the most artful fiction can sive 
 Avay to truth." When Polus, the celebrated ac- 
 tor, once affected his audience with more than 
 ordinary emotions, it was " luctu et lamentis 
 veris," by bursting out into real cries and tears ; 
 for in personating Electra weeping over the sup- 
 posed urn of her brother Orestes, he held in his 
 hand the real ashes of his own son lately dead.* 
 Events that have actually happened, are, after all, 
 the properest subjects for poetry. The best 
 
 eclogue 
 
 * Aul. Cell. Noct. Attic, lib, vii. cap. v.
 
 250 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 V 
 
 eclogue of Virgil,* the best ode of Horace, f are 
 founded on real incidents. If we briefly cast our 
 eyes over the most interesting and affecting sto- 
 ries, ancient or modern, we shall find that they 
 are such, as, however adorned, and a little diver- 
 sified, are yet grounded on true history, and on 
 real matters of fact. Such, for instance, among 
 the ancients, are the stories of Joseph, of Oedipus, 
 the Trojan war and its consequences, of Virginia 
 and the Horatii ; such, among the moderns, are 
 the stories of King Lear, the Cid, Romeo and 
 Juliet, and Oroonoko. The series of events con- 
 tained in these stories, seem far to surpass the ut- 
 most powers of human imagination. In the best- 
 conducted fiction, some mark of improbability 
 and incoherence will still appear. 
 
 I shall only add to these, a tale literally true, 
 "which the admirable Dante has introduced in 
 his Inferno, and which is not sufficiently known : 
 I cannot recollect any passage, in any writer 
 whatever, so truly pathetic. Ugolino, a Floren- 
 tine Count, is giving the description of his be- 
 ing imprisoned with his children by the Arch- 
 bishop 
 
 ^ The First, f Ode xiii. lib. ii.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 251 
 
 bishop Ruggieri. " Tlie hour approached when 
 we expected to have something brought us to 
 eat. But, instead of seeing any food appear, * 
 / heard the doors of that horrible dungeon more 
 closely barred, I behekl my httlc cliildren in siteiicey 
 and could not weep. My heart was petrified ! 
 The httle wretches wept; and my dear Anselni 
 said, Tu guarUi si, padre : che hai ? Father, you 
 look on us! what ails you ? I could neitlier weep 
 nor answer, and continued swallowed up in silent 
 agony all that day, and the following night, even 
 till the dawn of day. As soon as a glimmering 
 ray darted through the doleful prison, that I 
 could view again those four faces, in xvhich my ozvn 
 image was impressed, I gnawed both my hands with 
 grief and rage. IMy children believing I did 
 this through eagerness to eat, raising themselves 
 suddenly up, said to me. My father ! our tor- 
 ments xvould he less, if you would allay the rage of 
 your hunger upon us. I restrained myself, that 
 
 I mio'ht 
 
 * It was thought not Improper to distinguish the more mov- 
 ing passages by Italics. Sir Joshua Reynolds, whose mind is 
 stored with great and exalted ideas, has lately shewn, by a 
 picture on this subject, how qualified he is to preside at a* 
 Royal Academy, and that he has talents that ought not to be-' 
 couiSned to portrait-painting. . •
 
 252 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 I might not encrease their misery. JVe -were all 
 mute that day^ and the following. Quel di, e V 
 altro, stemmo tutti muti. The fourth day being 
 come,* Gaddoj faUing extended at my feet, cried, 
 Padre mio, che Jion m' ajuti ! My father^ zvhy do 
 you not help me ? and died. The other three ex- 
 pired one after the other, between the fifth and 
 sixth day, famished, as thou seest me now ! And 
 I, being seized with blindness^ began to go groping 
 upon them with my hands and feet ; and continued 
 caUing them by their names three days after they 
 were dead. £ tre di li chiamai poichc Jur morti : 
 then hunger 'vanquished my grief T 
 
 If this inimitable description had been found 
 in Homer, the Greek tragedies, or Virgil, how 
 many commentaries and panegyrics would it have 
 given rise to ? What shall \\t say, or think, of 
 the genius able to produce it ? Perhaps the In- 
 ferno of Dante is the next composition to the 
 Iliad, in point of originality and sublimity. And 
 
 with 
 
 * Mr. Richardson was the first that gave an English transla- 
 tion in blank verse of this passage of Dante, in his book, en- 
 titled a Discourse on the Dignity of the Science of a Connois- 
 seur, Loudon 1719. page 30.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. t2o3 
 
 with regard to the Pathetic, let tliis tale stand a 
 testimony of his abilities : for my own part, I 
 truly believe it was never carried to a greater 
 height. It is remarkable, that Cliaucer appears 
 to have been particularly struck with this tale in 
 Dante, having highly commended this, " grete 
 pocte of Italic," for this narration; with a sum- 
 mary of which he concludes the Monke's Talc* 
 
 The Prologue to Addison s Tragedy of Cafo, 
 is superior to any prologue of Dryden ; who, 
 notwithstanding, is so justly celebrated for this 
 species of writing. The prologues of Dryden 
 are satirical and facetious; this of I^ope is solemn 
 
 and 
 
 * Milton was particularly fond of this writer. Tlio follow- 
 ing passage is curious, and has not been taken notice of by the 
 late writers of his life : " Ego certe istis utrisque Unguis non 
 extremis tantunimodo labris madidus; sed siquis alius, quantum 
 per annos licuit, poculis niajoribus prolutus, possum tamcn 
 nonnunquam ad ilium Danpem, et Petrarcharn, aliosque ves- 
 tros complusculos, libenler & cupide comessatum ire. Nee 
 me tarn ipsse Athcnae Atticae cunj illo suo pellucido Ilisso, nee 
 iila vetus Roma sua Tiberis ripa. rctinere valuerunt, quin seepe 
 Arnum vestrum, & FEesulanos illos Colics invisere amem. Mil- 
 ton. Epistol. Epist. viii. B. Bommathaeo Florentino. Mi- 
 chael Angelo, from a similarity of genius, was fond of Dante. 
 Both were great masters in the Terrible. M. Angelo made a 
 Bas-relief on this subject, which I have seen.
 
 £54 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 and sublime, as the subject required. Those of 
 Dryden contain general topics of criticism and 
 wit, and may precede any play whatsoever, even 
 tragedy or comedy. This of Pope is particular, 
 and appropriated to the tragedy alone which 
 it was designed to introduce. The most striking 
 images and allusions it contains, are taken, with 
 judgmetit, from some passages in the life of Cato 
 himself. Such is that fine stroke, more lofty 
 than any thing in the tragedy itself, where the 
 poet says, that when Csesar, amid the pomp and 
 magnificence of a triumph, 
 
 Shew'd Rome her Cato's figure drawn in state j 
 As her dead father's reverend image past. 
 The pomp was darkcri'd^ and the day o'ercast ; 
 The triumph ceas'd. Tears gush'd from ev'ry eye. 
 The world's great victor pass'd unheeded by ; 
 Her last good man dejected Rome ador'd. 
 And honour'd Caesar's less than Cato's sword. 
 
 Such, again, is the happy allusion to an old story 
 mentioned in Martial, of this sage going into the 
 theatre, and immediately coming out of it again: 
 
 Such plays alone should win a British car. 
 As Cato's self had not disdain'd to hear. 
 
 Froni
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 0,55 
 
 From which he draws an artful panegyric on 
 the purity and excellence of the play he was ce- 
 lebrating. 
 
 With respect to sprightly turns, and poignancy 
 of wit; the prologues of Dryden have not been 
 equalled. ]\iany, and, indeed, the most excel- 
 lent of them, were written on occasion of the 
 players going to Oxford ; a custom which was 
 introduced by that polite scholar, and sensible 
 governor, Dr. Ralph Bathurst, Dean of Wells, 
 and President of Trinity College, Mdiile he was 
 Vice-Chancellor of that University.* At this 
 time Dryden was so famous for his prologues, 
 that no piece was relished, nor would the theatres 
 scarcely venture to produce it, if it wanted this 
 fashionable ornament. To this purpose, an anec- 
 dote is recorded of Southerne ; who, on bring- 
 ing his first play on the stage, did not fail to be-r 
 speak a prologue of the artist in vogue. The 
 usual price had been four guineas. In the pre.- 
 sent case, Dryden insisted that he must have six 
 for his work ; " which (said the mercantile bard') 
 
 is 
 
 * See the Life, &c. of Bathuust, lately published.
 
 255 ESSAY ON TH£ GENIUS 
 
 is out of no disrespect to you, young man ; but 
 the players have had my goods too cheap." 
 
 The traQ-edv of Cato itself is a 2.1arin£>- in- 
 stance of the force of party ;* so sententious 
 and declamatory a drama would never have met 
 with such rapid and amazing success, if every 
 line and sentiment had not been particularly tor- 
 tured, and applied to recent events, and the 
 reigning disputes of the times. The purity and 
 enersrv of the diction, and the loftiness of the 
 sentiments, copied in a great measure from Lu- 
 can, Tacitus, and Seneca the philosopher, merit 
 
 approbation, 
 
 * When Addison spake of the secretary of state at that 
 time, he always called him, in the language of Shakespeare, 
 " That canker'd Bolinghroke." Notwithstanding this, Addison 
 assured Pope, he did not bring his tragedy on the stage with 
 anv party views ; nay, desired Pope to carry the poem to the 
 Lords Oxford and Bolinghroke for their perusal. The play, 
 however, was always considered as a warning to the people, 
 that liberty was in danger during that Tory ministry. To ob- 
 viate the strong impressions that so popular a performance 
 might make on the minds of the audience. Lord Bolinghroke, 
 in the midst of their violent applauses, sent for Booth, who 
 played Cato, one night, into his box, between the acts, and 
 presented him with fifty guineas; in acknowledgment, as he 
 expressed it with great address, for delending the cause of li-? 
 berty so well against a perpetual dictator.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 257 
 
 approbation. But I have always thought, that 
 those pompous Roman sentiments are not so diffi- 
 cult to be produced as is vulgarly imagined ; and 
 which, indeed, dazzle only the vulgar. A stroke 
 of nature is, in my opinion, worth a hundred 
 such thoughts as 
 
 When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway, 
 The post of honour is a private station. 
 
 Cato is a fine dialogue on hberty, and the love 
 of one's country ; but considered as a dramatic 
 performance, nay, as a model of a just tragedy, 
 as some have affectedly represented it, it must 
 be owned to want Action and Pathos ; the 
 two hinges, I presume, on which a just tragedy 
 ouo'ht necessarilv to turn, and without which it 
 cannot subsist. It wants also Character, al- 
 though that be not so essentially necessary to a 
 tragedy as Action. Syphax, indeed, in his * 
 interview with Juba, bears some marks of a 
 rough African : the speeches of the rest may be 
 transferred to any of the personages concerned. 
 The simile drawn from Mount Atlas, and the de- 
 voL. I. S scription 
 
 * Act. ii. Scene v.
 
 258 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 scription of the Numidian traveller smothered in 
 the desert, are, indeed, in character, but suffi- 
 ciently obvious. How Addison could fall into 
 the false and unnatural custom of ending his 
 three first acts with similies, is amazing in so 
 chaste and correct a writer. The loves of Juba 
 and Marcia, of Fortius and Lucia, are vicious 
 and insipid episodes, debase the dignity, and 
 destroy the unity, of the fable. 
 
 One would imagine, from the practice of our 
 modern play-wrights, that love was the only pas- 
 sion capable of producing any great calamities 
 in human life : for this passion has engrossed, 
 and been impertinently introduced into, all sub- 
 jects.* In the Cinna of Corneille, which the 
 
 prince 
 
 * When the resolution of Medea to kill her children, is al- 
 most disarn>ed and destroyed by looking at them, and by their 
 smiling upon her, she breaks out 
 
 T/ "fffocyeXsile rov Trxvv^otlov ye\u> ; 
 
 At, «<— -Ti ^faau J— x«f ^<« yxf oi^eixu 
 
 Heu,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 259 
 
 prince of Coiid^ called " the Breviary of kings," 
 Maximus whines like a shepherd in the Pastor 
 Fido, even in the midst of profound political re- 
 flections, that equal those of Tacitus and Ma- 
 chiavel; and while the most important event that 
 could happen to the empire of the world was 
 debating. In his imitation of the Electra of So- 
 phocles, Crebillon has introduced a frigid love 
 intrigue. Achilles must be in love in the Iphi- 
 genia of Racine ; and the rough Mithridates 
 must be involved in this universal passion. A 
 passion, however, it is, that will always shine 
 upon the stage, where it is introduced as the 
 chief subject, but not subordinate and secon- 
 dary.* Thus, perhaps, there cannot be finer 
 S 2 subjects 
 
 lieu, heu ! cur me oculis aspicitis, liberi? 
 
 Cur arridetis hoc extreme risu ? 
 
 Heu, heu I quid faciam? cor enim mihi disperit ! 
 
 Euripid. Medea. Ver. 1041, 
 
 No sentiments of the Lover can be so tender, and so deeply 
 touching, as these of the Mother. 
 
 * L'Amour furieux, criminel, malheureux, suivi deremords, 
 arrache de nobles larmes. Point de milieu: il faut, ou que 
 I'amour domine en tiran, ou qu'il ne paroisse pas. 
 
 Oeuvres de Voltaire. Tom. xii. page 153. 
 
 I have just been told, that Chateaubrun also very lately made 
 poor Philoctetes in love in his Desert Island.
 
 260 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 subjects for a drama, than Phsedra, Romeo, 
 Othello, and Monimia. The whole distress hi 
 these pieces arises singly from this unfortunate 
 passion, carried to an extreme.* The greater 
 passions ^yere the constant subjects of the Gre- 
 cian ; the TENDERER passious of the French and 
 English theatres. Terror reigned in the former ; 
 pity occupies the latter. The moderns may yet 
 boast of some pieces, that are not emasculated 
 with this epidemical effeminacy. Racine was at 
 last convinced of its impropriety, and gave the 
 public his admirable Athalia ; in which were no 
 parts, commonly called by the French, d'amoreux 
 & de I'amoreuse, which parts were always given 
 to their two capital actors. The Merope, Ma- 
 homet, and Orestes, of Voltaire, are likewise 
 free from any ill-placed tenderness, and romantic 
 gallantry ; for which he has merited the praises 
 of the learned father Tournemine, in a letter to 
 
 his 
 
 * The introduction of female actresses on the modern stage, 
 together with that importance which the ladies in these latter 
 ages have justly gained, in comparison to what the ancients 
 allowed them, are the two great reasons, among others, of the 
 prevalence of these tender tales. The ladies of Athens had 
 not interest or abilities enough to damn a piece of Sophocles 
 or Euripides.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 26l 
 
 his friend father Brumoy.* But Lear and Mac- 
 beth are also striking instances what interesting 
 tragedies may be written, without having re- 
 course to a love-story. It is pity that the tra- 
 gedy of Cato, in which all the rules of the 
 drama, as far as the mechanism of writing reaches, 
 are observed, is not exact with respect to the 
 unity of time. There was no occasion to extend 
 the time of the fable longer than the mere repre- 
 sentation takes up ; all might have passed in the 
 compass of three hours from the morning, with 
 a description of which the play opens ; if the 
 poet, in the fourth scene of the fifth act, had 
 not talked of the setting sun playing on the ar- 
 mour of the soldiers, 
 
 Having been imperceptibly led into this little 
 
 criticism on the tragedy of Cato, I beg leave to 
 
 speak a few words on some other of Addison's 
 
 pieces. The f first of his poems, addressed to 
 
 S 3 Dry den, 
 
 * Les Oeuvres de Voltaire, torn. viil. 38. 
 
 f Tickel has ridiculously marked the author's age to be but 
 twenty-two and twenty -seven ; as if these verses were extraor- 
 dinary efforts at that age ! To these, however, Addison owed 
 his introduction at court, and his acquaintance with that polite 
 patron. Lord Somers,
 
 262 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Dryden, Sir John Somers, and King William, 
 are languid, prosaic, and void of any poetical 
 imagery or spirit. The Letter from Italy is by 
 no means equal to a subject fruitful of genuine 
 poetry, and which might have warmed the most 
 cold and correct imagination. One would have 
 expected, a young traveller, in the height of his 
 genius and judgment, would have broke out into 
 some strokes of enthusiasm. With what flatness 
 and unfeelingness has he spoken of statuary and 
 painting ! Raphael never received a more flegma- 
 tic eulogy. The slavery and superstition of the 
 present Romans, are well touched upon towards 
 the conclusion ; but I will venture to name a 
 little piece on a parallel subject, that excels this 
 celebrated Letter ; and in which is much lively 
 and original imagery, strong painting, and manly 
 sentiments of freedom. It is a copy of verses 
 written at Virgil's Tomb, and printed in Dodsley's 
 * Miscellanies. 
 
 That there are many well-wrought descriptions, 
 and even pathetic strokes, in the Campaign, it 
 would be stupidity and malignity to deny. But 
 
 surely 
 
 * Vol. iv. page ll*.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 263 
 
 surely the regular march which the poet has ob- 
 served from one town to another, as if he had 
 been a commissary of the army, cannot well be 
 excused. There is a passage in Boileau, so re- 
 markably applicable to this fault of Addison, 
 that one would almost be tempted to think he 
 had the Campaign in his eye, when he wrote it, 
 if the time would admit * it. 
 
 Loin ces rimeurs craintifs, dont I'esprlt phlegmatiqiie 
 Garde dans ses fureurs un ordre didactlque; 
 Qui chantant d'un heros les progress eclatans, 
 Maigres histokiens, suivkont l'ordre des temps ; 
 lis n'osent un moment prendre un sujet de viae. 
 Pour prendre Dole, il faut que Lille soit rendiie ; 
 Et que leur vers exact, ainsi que Mezerai, 
 Ait fait d^ja tomber — les remparts de f Coutrai. 
 
 The most spirited verses Addison has written, 
 are, an Imitation of the Third Ode of the Third 
 Book of Horace, which is, indeed, performed 
 with energy and vigour ; and his compliment 
 
 S 4 to 
 
 * But the Art of Poetry was written in the year 1672, many 
 years before the Campaign. Addison might have profited by 
 this rule of his acquaintance, for whom he had a great re- 
 spect. 
 
 t L'Art poetique. Ch. ii.
 
 264 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 to Kneller, on the Picture of King George the 
 First. The occasion of this last poem is pecu- 
 harJy happy ; for among the works of Phidias, 
 which he enumerates, he selects such statues as 
 exactly mark, and characterise, the last six Bri- 
 tish kings and queens. 
 
 * Great Pan, who wont to chase the fair. 
 
 And lov'd the spreading oak, was there; 
 
 Old Saturn too, with upcast eyes. 
 
 Beheld his abdicated skies; 
 
 And mighty Mars, for war renown'd. 
 
 In adamantine armour frown'd : 
 
 By him the childless goddess rose, 
 
 Minerva, studious to compose 
 
 Her twisted threads; the web she strung. 
 
 And o'er a loom of marble hung. 
 
 Thetis, the troubled ocean's queen, 
 
 Match'd with a Mortal, next was seen. 
 
 Reclining on a funeral urn. 
 
 Her short-liv'd darling son to mourn. 
 
 The last was He whose thunder slew 
 
 The Titan race, a rebel crew. 
 
 That from a Hundred Hills ally'd. 
 
 In impious league their king defy'd. 
 
 There 
 
 * Charles II. famous for his lewdness : the allusion to his 
 being concealed in the oak is artful. James II. William III, 
 Queen Mary, who had no heirs, and was a great work-woman. 
 Queen Anne, married to the Prince of Denmark, who lost the 
 D. of Gloucester in his youth. George I. who conquered the 
 Highland rebels at Preston, 1715.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 265 
 
 There is scarcely, I believe, any instance, where 
 mythology has been applied with more delicacy 
 and dexterity, and has been contrived to answer, 
 in its application, so minutely, exactly, in so 
 many corresponding circumstances. There are 
 various passages in the opera of Rosamond, that 
 deserve to be mentioned as beautiful; and the 
 versification of this piece is particularly musical. 
 
 Whatever censures we have here too boldly, 
 perhaps, ventured to deliver on the professed 
 poetry of Addison, yet must we candidly own, 
 that in various parts of his Prose Essa3's, are to 
 be found many strokes of genuine and sublime 
 poetry ; many marks of a vigorous and exuberant 
 imagination. Particularly, in the noble allegory 
 of Pain and Pleasure, the Vision of ]\Iirza, the 
 story of Maraton and Yaratilda, of Constantia 
 and Theodosius, and the beautiful eastern tale of 
 Abdallah and Balsora ; and many others : toge- 
 ther with several strokes in the Essay on the 
 Pleasures of Imagination. It has been the lot of 
 many great names, not to have been able to ex- 
 press themselves Nvith beauty and propriety in the 
 fetters of verse, in their respective languages, 
 
 who
 
 q66 essay on the genius 
 
 who have yet manifested the force, fertility, and 
 creative power, of a most poetic genius in prose.* 
 This was the case of Plato, of Lucian, of Fene- 
 Ion, of Sir Philip Sidney, and Dr. T. Burnet, 
 who, in his Theory of the Earth, has displayed 
 an imagination very nearly equal to that of 
 Milton : 
 
 — Maenia mundi 
 
 Discedunt ! totum video per Inane geri res ! 
 
 After all, the chief and characteristical excellency 
 of Addison, was his humour; for in humour 
 uno mortal has excelled him, except Moliere. Wit- 
 ness the character of Sir Roger de Coverley, so 
 original, so natural, and so inviolably preserved ; 
 particularly in the month which the Spectator 
 spends at his hall in the country. f Witness also 
 
 the 
 
 * In some of the eastern stories, lately published in the 
 Adventurer, much invention is displayed ; and this too by 
 an author, that, I have never heard, has written any consider- 
 able verses. See, particularly, the story of Amtirath, N°. 20, 
 of Nouraddin and Amana, K°. 73, and of Carazan, N°. 132, 
 by Mr. Hawkesworth. 
 
 f Vol. n. during the month of July. See the characters 
 , of Will. Wimble, Moll White, and the Justices of the Quo- 
 rum,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 25? 
 
 the Drummer, that excellent and neglected co- 
 medy, that just picture of life and real manners, 
 where the poet never speaks in his own person, 
 or totally drops or forgets a character, for the 
 sake of introducing a briUiant simile, or acute 
 remark : Avhere no train is laid for wit ; no Jere- 
 MYs, or BtNs, are suffered to appear. 
 
 The Epilogue to Jane Shore is the last piece 
 that belongs to this Section ; the title of which 
 by this time the reader may have possibly forgot. 
 It is written with that air of oallantrv and rail- 
 lery, which, by a strange perversion of taste, 
 the audience expects in all epilogues to the most 
 serious and pathetic pieces. To recommend 
 cuckoldom, and palliate adultery, is their usual 
 intent. I wonder Mrs. Oldfield was not suffered 
 to speak it ; for it is superior to that which was 
 used on the occasion. In this taste Garrick has 
 written some, that abound in spirit and drollery. 
 
 Rowe's 
 
 rum, p. 200, & scq. And Vol. v. Sir Roger at Westminster 
 Abbey, 329. and particularly at the tragedy of the Distrest 
 Mother with the Spectator.
 
 268 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Rowe's genius* was rather delicate and soft, than 
 strong and pathetic ; his compositions sooth us 
 with a tranquil and tender sort of complacency, 
 rather than cleave the heart with pangs of com- 
 miseration. His distresses are entirely founded 
 on the passion of love. His diction is extremely 
 elegant and chaste, and his versificationf highly 
 melodious. His plays are declamations rather 
 than dialogues ; and his characters are genera], 
 and undistinguished from each other. Such a 
 furious character as that of Bajazet is easily 
 drawn ; and, let me add, easily acted. There is 
 a want of unity in the fable of Tamerlane. The 
 death's head, dead body, and stage hung in 
 mourning, in the Fair Penitent, are artificial and 
 mechanical methods of affecting an audience. 
 
 In 
 
 * There are, however, some images in Rowe strongly paint- 
 ed ; such, particularly, as the following, which is worthy of 
 Spenser ; speaking of the Tower. 
 
 Methinks Suspicion and Distrust dwell here. 
 Staring with meagre forms thro' grated windows. 
 
 Lady Jane Grey, Act ii. Sc. ii. 
 
 -j- He has translated Lucan with force and spirit. It is un- 
 doubtedly one of the best translations in the English language, 
 and seems not to be sufficiently valued, 
 1
 
 4* 
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 9,69 
 
 In a Avord, his plays are musical and pleasing 
 poems ; but inactive and unmoving tragedies. 
 This of Jane Shore is, I think, the most interest- 
 ing and affecting of any he has given us : but 
 probability is sadly violated in it, by the neglect 
 of the unity of time. For a person to be sup- 
 posed to be starved during the representation of 
 five acts, is a striking instance of the absurdity 
 of this violation. In this piece, as in all of 
 Rowe, are many florid speeches, utterly incon- 
 sistent with the state and situation of the dis- 
 tressful personages who speak them. When 
 Shore first meets with her husband, she says, 
 
 * Art thou not risen by miracle from death ? 
 Thy shroud is fallen from off thee, and the grave 
 Was bid to give thee up, that thou might'st come. 
 The messenger of grace and goodness to me.— 
 
 He has then added some lines, intolerably flowery 
 and unnatural : 
 
 Give me your drops, ye soft descending rains. 
 Give me your streams, ye never-ceasing springs. 
 That my sad eyes may still supply my duty. 
 And feed an everlastinof flood of sorrow. 
 
 This 
 
 * Act. v. Sc. V.
 
 270 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 This is of a far distant strain from those tender 
 and simple exclamations she uses when her hus- 
 band offers her some rich conserves : 
 
 . * How can you be so good ? 
 
 And again, 
 
 Have you forgot 
 
 That costly string of pearl you brought me home, 
 An5 ty'd about my neck ? How could I leave you ? 
 
 She continues to gaze on him with earnestness, 
 and, instead of eating, as he entreats her, she 
 observes, 
 
 — — __ You're strangely alter'd — 
 
 Say, gentle Belniour, is he not ? How pale 
 Your visage is become ! Your eyes are hollow I 
 Nay, you are wrinkled too — 
 
 To which she instantly subjoins, struck with the 
 idea that she herself was the unhappy cause of 
 this alteration, 
 
 ■ Alas, the day ! 
 
 My wretchedness has cost you many a tear. 
 And many a bitter pang since last we parted. 
 
 What 
 * Act. V. Sc. V,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 271 
 
 What she answers to her husband, when he asks 
 her movingly, 
 
 Why dost thou fix thy dying eyes upon me 
 With such an earnest, such a piteous look. 
 As if thy heart was full of some sad meaning 
 Thou could'st not speak ? 
 
 Is pathetic to a great degree j 
 
 Forgive me I but forgive me ! 
 
 These few words far exceed the most pompous 
 declamations of Caio. The interview betwixt 
 Jane Shore and Alicia, in the middle of this act, 
 is also very affecting ; where the madness of 
 Alicia is well painted. But of all representations 
 of madness, that of Clementina, in the history 
 of Sir Charles Grandison, is the most deeply in- 
 teresting. I know not whether even the mad- 
 ness of Lear is wrought up, and expressed by so 
 many little strokes of nature, and genuine pas- 
 sion. Shall I say it is pedantry to prefer and 
 compare the madness of Orestes, in Euripides, 
 to this of Clementina ? 
 
 It
 
 272 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 It is probable that this is become the most po- 
 pular and pleasing tragedy of all Rowe's works, 
 because it is founded on our own history. I can- 
 not forbear wishing that our writers would more 
 frequently search for subjects in the annals of 
 England, which afford many striking and pathe- 
 tic events proper for the stage. We have been, 
 too long attached to Grecian and Roman stories. 
 In truth, the domestica facta are more inte- 
 resting, as well as more useful : more interesting, 
 because we all think ourselves concerned in the 
 actions and fates of our countrymen : more use- 
 ful, because the characters and manners bid the 
 fairest to be true and natural, when they are 
 drawn from models with which we are exactly 
 acquainted. The Turks, the Persians, and Ame- 
 ricans, of our poets, are, in reality, distinguished 
 from Englishmen only by their turbans and fea- 
 thers ; and think, and act, as if they were born 
 and educated within the bills of mortality. The 
 historical plays of * Shakespeare are always par- 
 ticularly 
 
 * Milton has left, in a manuscript, thirty-three subjects for 
 tragedies, all taken from the English annals; which manu- 
 script
 
 AND WRITINGS t)? POI^E. 273 
 
 ticularly grateful to the spectator, wlio loves to 
 see and hear our own Harrys and Edwards, better 
 than all the Achilleses or Caesars that ever existed.'^ 
 In the choice of a domestic story, hoAvever, much 
 judgment and circumspection must be exerted, 
 to select one of a proper sera ; neither of too 
 ancient, or of too modern a date. The manners 
 of times very ancient, we shall be apt to falsify, 
 as those of the Greeks and Romans. And re- 
 cent events, with which we are thoroughly ac- 
 quainted, are deprived of the power of impress- 
 ing solemnity and awe, by their notoriety and 
 familiarity. Age softens and wears away all those 
 disgracing and depreciating circumstances which 
 attend modern transactions, merely because they 
 are modern. Lucan was much embarrassed by 
 the proximity of the times he treated of. On 
 this very account, as well as others, the best 
 tragedy that could be possibly written on the 
 murder of Charles I. would be coldly received. 
 Racine ventured to write on a recent history, in 
 VOL. I. T • his 
 
 script the curious reader may see printed in Newtan's Edit, of 
 Milton, Oct.. Vol. iii. pag. 331. And in Birch's Life of Mil- 
 ton, prefixed to his edition of Milton's Prose Works, pag. 51 ; 
 and in Peck's Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Milton, 
 pag, 90.
 
 274 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 his Bajazet ; but would not have attempted it, 
 had he not thought that the distance of his 
 hero's country repaired, in some measure, the 
 nearness of the time in which he hved. *' Major 
 a longinquo reverentia." 
 
 Pope, it is said, had framed a design of writ- 
 ing an epic poem on a fact recorded in our old 
 annalists, and therefore more engaging to an 
 Englishman ; on the arrival of Brutus, the 
 supposed grandson of iEneas, in our island, and 
 the settlement of the first foundations of the 
 British monarchy. A full scope might have 
 been given to a vigorous imagination, to em- 
 bellish a fiction drawn from the bosom of the 
 remotest antiquity. Some tale, equally venera- 
 ble and ancient, it was also the purpose of Mil- 
 ton* to adorn ; for he says, in his Reason of 
 
 Church 
 
 * Whether he intended, as a Poet expresses it. To 
 
 Record old Arthur's magic tale. 
 And Edward fierce, in sable mail ; 
 Sing royal Brutus' lawless doom. 
 And brave Bonduca, scourge of Rome ; 
 Great Pendragon's fair-branched line. 
 Stern Arviuage, or old Locrine. 
 
 The Ujuon, pag. 92. 
 
 " Am
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 275 
 
 Church Government,* " I am meditating what 
 king or knight before the Conquest might 
 be chosen, in whom to lay the pattern of a Chris- 
 tian hero." But shall I be pardoned for suspect- 
 ing, that Pope would not have succeeded in hisl/" 
 design; that so didactic a genius would have 
 been deficient in that sublime and pathetic, 
 which are the main nerves of the epopea ; that 
 he would have given us many elegant descrip- 
 tions, and many general characters, well drawn; 
 
 T2 but 
 
 " An heroical poem (says Milton, in the above-mentioned 
 manuscript) may be founded somewhere in Alfred's reign, 
 especially at his issuing out of Edelingsey, on the Danes, whose 
 actions are well like those of Ulysses." In Milton's History 
 of England may be seen the story of Brutus here in question ; 
 with which he seems pleased, as it suited the romantic turn of 
 his mind. See his Mansus. 
 
 Siquando indigenas revocabo in carmina reges, 
 Arthurumque etiam, &c. 
 
 Ipse ego Dardanias Rutupina per asquora puppes, 
 Dicam, & Pandrasidos regnum vetus Inogeniae, 
 Brennumque, Arviragumque, &.c. 
 
 And, particularly, the Epitaphium Damonis. 
 
 * Pa^r. 24.
 
 276 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 but would have failed to set before our eyes tlie 
 REALITY of these objects, and the actions ot 
 tlicse characters : for Homer professedly draws 
 no characters, but gives us to collect them 
 from the looks and behaviour of each person he 
 introduces; that Pope's close and constant rea- 
 soning had impaired and crushed the faculty of 
 imagination ; that the pohtical reflections, in 
 this piece, would, in all probability, have been 
 more numerous than the affecting strokes of nar 
 ture ; that it would have more resembled the 
 IIenriade than the Iliad, or even the Gieru- 
 SALEMME LiBERATA ; that it would have ap- 
 peared (if this scheme had been executed) how 
 much, and for what reasons, the man that is 
 skilful in painting modern life, and the most se- 
 cret foibles and follies of his contemporaries, is, 
 THEREFORE, disqualified for representing the ages 
 of heroism, and that simple life, which alone 
 epic poetry can gracefully describe ; in a word, 
 that this composition would have shewn more of 
 the Philosopher than of the Poet. Add to all 
 this, that it was to have been written in rhyme ;* 
 
 a circum- 
 
 * Since this was said, it has apjjcared, that Pope intended 
 to have writtenthis^ocni in blank verse.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 277 
 
 a circumstance sufficient of itself alone to over-, 
 whelm and extinguish all enthusiasm, and pro- 
 duce endless tautologies and circumlocutions. 
 Are not these suppositions strengthened by what 
 Dr. Warburton* has informed us, namely, that 
 Pope, in this poem, intended to have treated 
 amply " Of all that regarded civil regimen, or 
 the science of pohtics ; that the several forms of 
 a republic were here to be examined and explain- 
 ed ; together with the several modes of religious 
 Avorship, as far forth as they affect society ;*' 
 than which, surely, there could not have been a 
 niore improper subject for an epic poem. 
 
 It is not Impertinent to observe, for the sake 
 of those who are fond of the history of litera- 
 ture, and of the human mind in the progress of 
 it, that the very first poem that appeared in 
 France, any thing like an epic poem, was on this 
 identical subject, of Brutus arriving in England. 
 It was written by Master Eustacme, so early as 
 in the reign of Louis the Seventh, surnamed the 
 Young, who ascended the throne in the year 
 1 137, and who Avas the husband of the celebrated 
 
 T 3 Eleonora, 
 
 * Vol. III.
 
 278 ESSAY ON TH£ GENIUS 
 
 Eleonora, afterwards divorced, and married to 
 our Henry the Second. The author called it, 
 Le Roman de Brut. Every piece of poetry was 
 at that time denominated a romance. The Latin 
 language ceased to be regularly spoken in France 
 about the ninth century ; and was succeeded by 
 what was called the Romance-tongue, a mixture 
 of the language of the Francs, and of bad Latin. 
 The species of writing, called Romans, began in 
 the tenth century, according to the opinion of 
 the Benedictine fathers,* who have well refuted 
 M. Fleuri and Calmet, M^ho make it less ancient 
 by two hundred years. The poem, or Romany 
 we are speaking of, is full of wonderful and im- 
 probable tales, and supernatural adventures, suit- 
 ed to the taste of so barbarous an age. It is 
 matter of some curiosity, to see a specimen of 
 the style of this eldest of the French poets. This 
 is his exordium : 
 
 Qui veut ouir, qui veut scavoir, 
 De roi en roi, & d' hoir ea hoir, 
 Q,ui cils furent. & d' ou cils vinrent. 
 Qui Angleterre primes tinrent. 
 
 We 
 
 * Hist. Lit. T. 6, 7.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 279 
 
 We may judge, from this passage, of the state 
 of the language. Master Eustache has heen par- 
 ticularly careful to mark the time in which he 
 Jived and wrote, by his two concluding lines : 
 
 L'an mil cent cinquante — cinq ans 
 Fit Maistre Eustache ces Romans. 
 
 I will take leave to add, that the second poem, 
 now remaining, in the French language, was 
 entitled, The Romance of Alexander the Great. 
 It was the confederated work of four authors, 
 famous in their time. Lambert le Court, and 
 Alexander of Paris, sung the exploits of Alexan- 
 der ; Peter de Saint Clost, wrote his will in verse ; 
 the writing the will of a hero being then a 
 common topic ; and John le Nivelois added a 
 book concerning the manner in which his death 
 was revenged. It is remarkable, that before this 
 time, all the Romans had been composed in verses 
 of eight syllables ; but in this piece, the four 
 authors first used verses of twelve syllables, as 
 more solemn and majestic. And this was the 
 origin, though but little known, of those verses 
 
 T 4 which
 
 aSO ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 M'hich we now call Alexandrines, the French 
 lieroic measure ; the name being derived from 
 Alexander, the hero of the piece, or from Alex- 
 ander, the most celebrated of tke four poets 
 concerned in this work. These were the most 
 applauded poets of that age. Fauchet highly 
 commends this poem ; particularly a passage 
 Avhere a Cavalier is struck to the ground with a 
 lance, who, says the old bard, 
 
 Du long comme il etoit, mesura la campagne. 
 
 Which is not inferior to Virgil's 
 
 Hesperian! metire jacens.— 
 
 One would not imagine this line had been written 
 so early as the middle of the twelfth century. 
 A great and truly learned antiquary has re- 
 marked, for the honour of our country, that 
 about this time, 11 60, appeared the first traces 
 of any theatre. " A monk called Geoffry, who 
 ■ was afterwards- abbot of St. Alban's in England, 
 employed in the education of youth, made his 
 
 pupils
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. £81 
 
 pupils represent, with proper scenes and dresses, 
 tragedies of piety. The subject of the first dra- 
 matic piece, was the miracles of saint Catharine, 
 which appeared long before any of our represen- 
 tations of the MYSTERIES.* 
 
 SECTION 
 
 * The president Heuault, Histoire de France, Torn. I. 
 p. 151. a Paris 1749,
 
 282 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 SECTION vr. 
 
 OF THE EPISTLE OF SAPPHO TO PHAON, AND 
 OF ELOISA TO ABELARD. 
 
 JLT is no small merit in Ovid, to have invented * 
 this beautiful species of writing epistles under 
 feigned characters. It is a high improvement 
 on the Greek elegy ; to which its dramatic na- 
 ture renders it greatly superior. It is, indeed, 
 no other than a passionate soliloquy, in which 
 the mind gives vent to the distresses and emo- 
 tions under which it labours : but, by being di- 
 rected and addressed to a particular person, it 
 gains a degree of propriety, that the best con- 
 ducted soliloquy in a tragedy must ever want. 
 Our impatience under any pressures of grief, 
 
 and 
 
 * Propertius, however, has one composition of this sort, en- 
 titled, Epistola Arethusae ad Lycotam. Lib. iv. Eleg. 3. VuU 
 pius observes, that Horace never once mentions Propertius 
 with approbation, but glances at him with ridicule in the pas-- 
 ifecre, Q,uis nisi Calliraachus. Ep. 2. L. 2. v. 100,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 283 
 
 and disorder of mind, makes such passionate 
 expostulations with the persons supposed to 
 cause such uneasinesses, very natural. Judgment 
 is chiefly shewn, by opening the interesting com- 
 plaint just at such a period of time, as will give 
 occasion for the most tender sentiments, and the 
 most sudden and violent turns of passion, to be 
 displayed. Ovid may, perhaps, be blamed for 
 a sameness of subjects in these epistles of his 
 heroines, whose distresses are almost all occa- 
 sioned by their lovers forsaking them. His 
 epistles are likewise too long ; which circum- 
 stance has forced him into a repetition and lan- 
 guor in the sentiments. It would be a pleasing 
 task, and conduce to the formation of a good 
 taste, to shew how differently Ovid, and the 
 Greek tragedians, hav^e made Medea, Phaidra, 
 and Deianira speak, on the very same occasions. 
 Such a comparison would abundantly manifest 
 the FANCV and wit of Ovid, and the judgment 
 and NATURE of Euripides and Sophocles. If the 
 character of IMedea was not better supported in 
 the tragedy M-hich Ovid is said to have pro- 
 duced, and of which Quintilian speaks so ad- 
 vantageously,
 
 284 ESSAY ON THE GEN'lUS 
 
 vantageously, than it is in her epistle to Jason, 
 one may venture to declare, that the Romans 
 would not yet have been vindicated from their 
 inferiority to the Greeks in tragic poesy. 
 
 The Epistle before us is translated by Pope, 
 with faithfulness, and with elegance, and much 
 excels any that Dryden translated in the volume 
 he published ; several of Avhicli were done by 
 some *' of the mob of gentlemen that wrote 
 with ease ;" that is, Sir C. Scroop, Caryl, Pooly, 
 Wright, Tate, Buckingham, Cooper, and other 
 careless rhymers. A good translation of these 
 epistles is as much wanted as one of Juvenal ; 
 for, out of sixteen satires of that poet, Dryden 
 himself translated but six. We can now boast of 
 happy translations in verse, of almost all the great 
 poets of antiquity ; whilst the French have been 
 poorly contented with only prose translations of 
 Homer and Horace, which, says Cervantes, can 
 no more resemble the original, than the wrong 
 side of tapestry can represent the right. The ina- 
 bility of the French tongue to express many Greek 
 or Roman ideas with facility and grace, is here 
 
 visible ;
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 285 
 
 visible ; but the Italians have Horace translated * 
 by Pallavacini ; Theocritus, by llicolotti and 
 Salvini ; Ovid, by Anguillara ; the ^Eneid, ad- 
 mirably well, in blank verse, by Annibal Caro ; 
 and the Georgics, in blank verse also, by Da- 
 nicllo; and Lucretius, by Marchetti. 
 
 I return to Ovid, by observing, that he has 
 put into the nioutli of his heroine, a greater 
 number of pretty panegyrical epigrams, than of 
 those tender and passionate sentiments which 
 suited her character, and made her sensibihty in 
 amours so famous. What can be more elegantly 
 gallant than this compliment to Phaon ? 
 
 Sume fidem & pharcfram; fies manifestus Apollo; 
 Accedant capiti cornua; Bacchus eiis. 
 
 This thought seems indisputably to have been 
 imitated in that most justly celebrated of mo- 
 dern epigrams, 
 
 Luminfi 
 
 * The Spaniards have the Odyssey of Homer translated in 
 verse by G. Perez. The Medea of Euripides by P, Abrll. 
 Parts of Pindar by L. de Leon, and of Theocritus by Villa- 
 gas. The Eclogues of Virgil by I. Encina. The Georgics, 
 in blank verse, by I. de Guzman. The .^neid by L. de Leon^ 
 published by Quevedo, 1631.
 
 28^ ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Lumine Aeon dextro, capta est Leonilla sinist*,. 
 
 Et potis est forma vincere uterque Deos ; 
 Blande puer, lumen quod babes, concede sorori. 
 
 Sic tu coecus amor, sic erit ilia Venus. 
 
 My chief reason for quoting these delicate lines, 
 was to point out the occasion of them, which 
 seems not to he sufficiently known. They were 
 made on Louis de Maguiron, the most heautiful 
 man of his time, and the great favourite of 
 Henry III. of France, wlio lost an eye at the 
 siege of Issoire ; and on the Princess of Eboli, 
 a great beauty, but who was deprived of the 
 gight of one of her eyes, and who was at the 
 same time mistress of Philip II. King of Spain. 
 
 It was happil}^ imagined, to write an epistle 
 in the character of Sappho, who had spoken of 
 love v/ith more warmth and feeling than any 
 writer of antiquity ; and who described the vio- 
 lent symptoms attending this passion, in so 
 strong and lively a manner, that the physician 
 Erasistratus is said to have discovered the secret 
 malady of the Prince Antiochus, Mho was in 
 love with his mother-in-law Stratonice, merely by 
 1 examining
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPt. 28? 
 
 examining the symptoms of his patient's distem- 
 per, hy this description. Addison has inserted 
 in two of his Spectators,* an elegant cliaracter of 
 this poetess ; and has given a translation of two 
 of her fragments, that are exquisite in their 
 kind ; a translation, which we may presume Ad* 
 dison himself revised, and altered, for his friend 
 Philips. As these two pieces are pretty well 
 known, by being found in so popular a book as 
 the Spectator, I shall say no more of them ; but 
 shall add two more of her fragments, which, 
 though very short, are yet highly beautiful and 
 tender. The first represents the languor and 
 listlessness of a person deeply in love : we may 
 suppose the fair author looking up earnestly on 
 her mother, casting down the web on which she 
 was employed, and suddenly exclaiming, 
 
 TKi'MtcK fx-xlip, ov rot 
 AvyxfjiXt xpix.ti¥ roy iso*^ 
 
 UoOu ^X(X(l<TCC tixi^os. 
 
 Bfxoiixy 01 A^pooiTxy.-\- 
 
 Dulcis 
 
 * No. 223—229. 
 
 f Inter novem illustr. fcemin. fragmenta. Edit, a Fulvia 
 Ursino, Antwerp.
 
 £88 £SSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Dulcis mater ! non 
 Possum texere telum 
 Amore victa pueri. 
 Per acrem Venerem. 
 
 The other fragment Is of the descriptive kind, 
 and seems to be the beginning of an Ode ad- 
 dressed to Evening : it is quoted by Demetrius 
 Phalereus,* 
 
 EaTTips iTxvix ^ipsii. 
 ^tpii! otvov, ^i^sts ctiyx, 
 ^ifsii (J.x\efi -jixi^x. 
 
 Vesper omnia fers; 
 Fers vinum, fers caprarn, 
 Fers raatri filiam. 
 
 From these Httle fragments, the first of which is 
 an example of the pathetic, and the second of the 
 picturesque, the manner of Sappho might have 
 been gathered, if the two longer odes had not 
 been preserved in the treatises of Dionysius, and 
 of Longinus. I cannot help adopting the appli- 
 cation Addison has made of two lines of Phae- 
 drus to these remains of our poetess, which is, 
 
 perhaps, 
 
 * Edit. Oxon. p. \0\.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POP£. 289 
 
 perhaps, one of the most elegant and happy ap- 
 phcations that ever was taken from any classic : 
 
 O suavis anima ! qualem te dicartl bonatn 
 Antehac fuisse, tales cum sint reliquiae!* 
 
 The versification of this translation of Pope is, 
 in point of melody, next to that of his Pastorals. 
 Perhaps the two following lines, in which allite- 
 ration is successfully used, are the most harmo- 
 nious verses in our language ; I mean in rhyme : 
 
 Ye gentle gales ! beneath my body blow. 
 And softly lay me on the waves below ! 
 
 The peculiar musicalness of the first of these 
 lines, in particular, arises principally from its 
 consisting entirely of iambic feet, which have 
 always a striking, although unperceived, effect 
 in an English verse. As for example ; 
 
 Ye gentle gales beneath my body blow. 
 
 VOL. I. U Even 
 
 * Phgedr. Fab. L. iii. Fab. i. ver. 5, 6.
 
 Q.gO ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Even if the last foot alone be an iambic, it 
 casts a harmony over a whole line :* 
 
 Rapt into future times the bard begQn. 
 
 There are many niceties in our versification, 
 which few attend to, and which would demand 
 a regular treatise fully to discuss : we should 
 surely use every possible art to render our rough 
 Northern language harmonious. 
 
 Fenton also has given us a translation of this 
 epistle to Phaon, but it is in no respect equal 
 to Pope's : he has added another, of his own in- 
 vention, of Phaon to Sappho, in which the story 
 of the transformation of the former, from an old 
 mariner to a beautiful youth, is well told. Fen- 
 ton t was an elegant scholar, and had an exqui- 
 site 
 
 * See Wartojj on Spenser, Sect. xi. page 259, &c. Milton 
 constantly studied this beauty. 
 
 f Pope highly valued him. In a letter to Gay, Vol. VIIL 
 p. 169, he says, " I have just received the news of the death 
 of a friend, v^'hom I esteemed almost as many years as you ; 
 poor Fenton. He died at East-Hamstead, of indolence and in- 
 activity : let it not be your fate, but use exercise." Craggs, 
 
 Avho
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 291 
 
 8ite taste : the books he translated for Pope in 
 the Odyssey, are superior to Broome's. In his 
 Miscellanies are many pieces worthy notice ; par- 
 ticularly, his Epistle to Southerne ; the Fair 
 Nun, imitated from Fontaine ; Olivia, a Cha- 
 racter ; an Ode to the Sun, and one to Lord 
 Gower, written in the true spirit of Lyric poetry, 
 of wliich the following allegory is an example: 
 
 Enamour'd of the Seine, celestial fair^ 
 The blooming pride of Thetis azure train, 
 Bacchus, to win the nymph who caus'd his care, 
 Lash'd his swift tigers to the Celtic plain; 
 There secret in her sapphire cell. 
 He with the Nais wont to dwell. 
 Leaving the nectar'd feasts of Jove ; 
 And where her mazy waters flow. 
 He gave the mantling vine to grow, 
 A trophy to his love. 
 
 U 2 Hi 
 
 IS 
 
 who had never received a learned education, had some time 
 before commissioned Pope to find out for him some polite scho- 
 lar, whom he proposed to take into his family, that he might 
 acquire a taste of literature, by the conversation and instruc- 
 tion of the person Pope should recommend. He accordingly 
 chose Fenton, who, at that time, was an assistant in a school 
 at Seven Oaks, in Kent; but Craggs died unluckily for the 
 execution of this scheme. Mr. Craggs had the candor to make 
 no objection to Fenton, though he was a nonjuror; being, I 
 presume, convinced he was honest as well as learned.
 
 292 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 His tragedy of Mariamne * has undoubtedly me- 
 rit, though the diction be too figurative and or- 
 namental ; it does, indeed, superabound in the 
 richest poetic images : except this may be pal- 
 liated by urging, that it suits the characters of 
 oriental heroes, to talk in so high a strain, and 
 to use such a luxuriance of metaphors. 
 
 From tjiis Epistle of Sappho, I may take oc- 
 casion to observe, that this species of writing, 
 beautiful as it is, has not been much cultivated 
 among us. Drayton, no despicable genius, at- 
 tempted to revive it, and has left us some good 
 subjects, though not very artfully handled. f We 
 
 have 
 
 * Pope thought highly of the style of Mariamne ; and used 
 to say it was one of the best written tragedies we had ; and 
 that the dialogue was particularly good. Our author himself 
 attempted a tragedy on the story of Timoleon ; but not satis- 
 fying himself, laid it aside. Pope told Mr. Harte, that Fen- 
 ton's Epistle to Lambard was the most Horatian epistle in our 
 language. " I envy Fenton (said he) that Epistle." His own 
 admirable imitations had not yet appeared. Those books of 
 the Odyssey, which Fenton translated for our author, were 
 the 1, 4, 19, 20. Those which Broome translated, were the 
 2, 6, 8, 11, 12, IG, 18, 23. The remaining books our au- 
 thor himself translated. 
 
 f The best of his England's heroical Epistles, are King 
 John to Matilda, Elinor Cobhara to Duke Humphry, Williain
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 2^3 
 
 liSLve also a few of this sort of epistles by tlie late 
 Lord Hervey, in the fourth volume of Dodsley's 
 Miscellanies,* Flora to Pompey,']' Arisbe to Ma- 
 rius, and Monimia to Philocles ; in which last 
 are some pathetic strokes ; and Roxana to Us- 
 beck, taken from the incomparable J Letters of 
 the late president Montesquieu ; a fine || original 
 work, in which the customs and manners of the 
 Persians are painted with the utmost truth and 
 liveliness, and which have been faintly imitated 
 by the Jewish, Chinese, and other letters. The 
 beauty of this writer is his expressive brevity, 
 U 3 which 
 
 De la Pole to Queen Margaret, Jane Shore to Edward IV. 
 Lord Surrey to Geraldine, and Lady Jane Grey to Lord Guild- 
 ford Dudley. In his Bauons' Wars, there are many strokes 
 not unworthy of Spenser ; and his Nymphidia must be allowed 
 to be a perfect pattern of pastoral elegance. 
 
 * Page 90. & seq. f Taken from Fontenelle. 
 
 I Lettres Persanes. A Geneve, 1716. 
 
 jl Lady Wortley MonJague, who resided so long at Con- 
 stantinople, said, " One would have thought the Baron de 
 Montesquieu had been born and bred a Turk, he has described 
 that people, and the women particularly, so very accurately." 
 " I had rather have written (sL'Jd a man of wit) the short his- 
 tory of the Troglodites, consisting only of ten pages, than the 
 admirable, the immortal history of Thuanus in ten great vo- 
 lumes."
 
 294 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 which Lord Hervey has lengthened to a degree 
 that is unnatural ; especially, as Roxana is sup- 
 posed to write just after she has swallowed a 
 deadly poison, and during its violent operations. 
 I have lately seen several pieces of this species, 
 which, as the subjects are striking, will, I hope, 
 one day see the light. They are entitled, " Tasso 
 to Leonora, written in an interval of his mad- 
 ness ; LucAN to Nero, just after he was con- 
 demned to death ; Lady Olivia to Clemen- 
 tina, on her refusing to marry Grandison ; 
 Charles V. from the monastery he retired to, to 
 the king of France ; Galgacus, general of the 
 Britons, to Agricola, that commanded the Ro- 
 mans; Montezuma to Cortez ; Vitikinda, 
 the general of the Saxons, to Charlemagne ; 
 and Rosmunda to Alboinus, king of the Lom- 
 bards." 
 
 The Italians had a writer of heroic epistles 
 called Antonio Bruni ; these are some of his sub- 
 jects ; the Hebrew Mother to Titus Vespa- 
 sian, Erminia to Tancred, Catherine of 
 Arragon to Henry VIIL Turnus to Lavinia, 
 Tancred to Clorinda, Armida to Rinaldo, 
 
 Radamistus
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 2^5 
 
 Radamistus to Zenobia, Nausicaa to Ulysses^ 
 Angelica to Orlando, Sophonisba to Masi- 
 NissA, Semiramis to NiNus, Honoria to 
 At T I la. 
 
 But of all stories, ancient or modern, there is 
 not, perhaps, a more proper one to furnish out 
 an elegiac epistle, than, that' of Eloisa and 
 Abelard. Their distresses were of a most sin- 
 gular and peculiar kind ; and their names 
 sufficiently known, but not grown trite or com- 
 mon by too frequent usage. Pope was a most 
 excellent improver, if no great original inven- 
 tor; for, as we have seen what an elegant su- 
 perstructure he has raised on the little dialogue 
 of the Comte de Gabalis, so shall we perceive, 
 in the sequel of this Section, how finely he has 
 worked up the hints of distress that are scattered 
 up and down in Abelard's and Eloisa's Letters ; 
 and in a little French* history of their lives and 
 misfortunes. t Abelard was reputed the most 
 
 U 4* handsome, 
 
 * Printed at the Hague, 1693. 
 
 t He was bora at Palais, near Nantes, in Britanny, at the 
 beginning of the twelfth century, and studied at Paris under 
 William Champeaux,
 
 296 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 handsome, as well as most learned man, of his 
 time, according to the kind of learning then in 
 vogue. An old chronicle, quoted by * Andrew 
 du Chesne, informs us, that scholars flocked to 
 his lectures from all quarters of the Latin world. 
 And his contemporary, St. Bernard, relates, that 
 he numbered among his disciples many principal 
 ecclesiastics, and cardinals, at the court of Rome. 
 Abelard himself boasts, that when he retired into 
 the country, he was followed by such immense 
 crowds of scholars, that they could get neither 
 lodgings nor provisions sufficient for them ; " ut 
 nee locus hospitiis, nee terra sufficeret alimentis."'(' 
 He met with the fate of many learned men, to 
 be embroiled in controversy, and accused of 
 
 heresy ; 
 
 * In His. Cal. Abel. p. 1155. And the high opinion that 
 was held of his learning, may appear from his epitaph by Pet. 
 de Clugny. 
 
 Gallorum Socrates, Plato maximus Hesperiarum, 
 Koster Aristoteles, Logicis, quicunque fuerunt, 
 Aut par, aut melior, studiorum cognitus orbi 
 Princeps, ingenio varius, subtilis & acer ; 
 Omnia vi superans rationis & arte loquendi, 
 Abelardus erat, &c. 
 
 Vid. Abel. & Helois. Epist. p. 235. Edit. Rawlinsoii, 171 8. 
 
 f Abclardi Opera, p. 19.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. ^^7 
 
 heresy ; for St. * Bernard, whose influence and 
 authority was very great, got his opinion of the 
 Trinity condemned, at a council held at Sens, 
 1140. But the talents of f Abelard were not 
 confined to theology, jurisprudence, philosophy, 
 and the thorny paths of scholasticism ; he gave 
 proofs of a lively genius, by many poetical per- 
 formances ; insomuch, that he was reputed to^be 
 the author of the famous Romance of the Rose ; 
 which, however, was indisputably written by 
 John of Meun^, a little city on the banks of the 
 
 Loire, 
 
 * The character of this St. Bernard was singular ; the pre- 
 sident Henault thus speaks of him : " II avoit ete donnd a cet 
 homme extraordinaire de doniiner les esprits." One beholds 
 hinfi pass in a moment from the depth of a desert to a court, 
 where he never was misplaced ; where he lived without titles, 
 without a public character, enjoying that personal weight 
 whicii is above authority. Yet no less a man of sanctity, and 
 a man of wit, than a great politician ; his sermons are master- 
 pieces of sentiment and energy. Histoire de France ; Troi- 
 sieme Kace. p. lAj. 
 
 f One is sometimes surprized to see the honours and vene- 
 ration formerly paid to men of literature, in comparison of 
 what they meet with at present. " As every human advan- 
 tage is attended with inconveniencies, the change of mens* 
 ideas, in this particular, may probably be ascribed to the in- 
 vention of PRINTING, which has rendered books so common, 
 that even men of slender fortunes can have access to them." 
 Hcme's History of Great Britain, p. 149.
 
 298 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Loire, about four leagues from Orleans ; which 
 gave occasion to Marot to exclaim, 
 
 De Jean de Meun s^enfle le cours de Loire. 
 
 It was he who continued and finished the Ro- 
 mance of the Rose, M'hich * William de Lorris 
 had left imperfect forty years before. If cliro- 
 nology t did not absolutely contradict the notion 
 of Abelard's being the author of this very cele- 
 brated piece, yet are there internal arguments suf- 
 ficient to confute it. The mistake seems to have 
 flowed from his having given Eloisa the name of 
 Rose, in one of the many sonnets he addressed 
 to her. In this romance there are many severe 
 and satirical strokes on the character of Eloisa, 
 which the pen of J Abelard never Mould have 
 
 given. 
 
 * Whom Marot praises as the Ennius of France ; 
 
 Notre Ennius Guillaume de Lorris. 
 
 He took his name from the town of Lorris, where he was born. 
 
 f There is undoubted evidence that it was written an hundred 
 years after Abelard flourished. 
 
 % Eloisa speaks thus of Abelard's poetry, and skill also in 
 music ; for he sung his own verses : " Duo autem fateor, tibi 
 
 specialiter
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 299 
 
 given. In one passage, she is introduced speak- 
 ing with indecency and obscenity ; in another, 
 all the vices and bad quaUties of women are 
 represented as assembled together in her alone : 
 
 Qui les moeurs f^minins savoit. 
 Car tres-tous en soi les avoit. 
 
 In a very old epistle dedicatory, addressed to 
 Philip the Fourth of France, by this same John 
 of Meun, and prefixed to a French translation of 
 Boetius, a very popular book at that time, it ap- 
 pears, that he also translated the Epistles of Abc- 
 lard to Heloissa, which were in high vogue at the 
 court. He mentions also, that he had translated 
 
 Vegetius 
 
 specialiter inerant, quibus foeminarum quarumlibet aninios 
 statim allicere poteras ; dictandi videlicet & cautandi gratia. 
 Quae cjeteros minime philosophos assecutos esse novimus. Qui- 
 bus quidem quasi ludo quodam laborem exercitii recreans phi- 
 losopliici, pleraque amatorio metro vel rithmo composita reli- 
 quisti canuina, quae pras nimia. suavitate tarn dictaminis, quam 
 cantus, ssepius tVcquentata, tuum in ore omnium nomen inces- 
 santer tenehant ; ut etiam illiteratos melodiae dulcedo tui non 
 •sincret imnicmores esse." 
 
 Epist. i. Heloissas, p. 5], 
 
 It is observable, that Pope judiciously softened and harmo- 
 nized her name to Eloisa from Heloissa.
 
 300 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Vegetius on the Art Military, and a book called 
 the Wonders of Ireland : these works shew us 
 the taste of the age : his words are, " t' envoye 
 ores * Boece de consolation, que j' translate en 
 Fran9ois, ja9oit qui bien entendes le Latin, "f 
 
 It is to be regretted that we have no exact pic- 
 ture of the person and beauty of Eloisa : Abe- 
 lard himself says, that she Mas *' facie non in- 
 iima." Her extraordinary learning many circum- 
 stances concur to confirm ; particularly -one, 
 which is, that the nuns of the Paraclete are wont 
 to have the office of Whitsunday read to them in 
 Greek, to perpetuate the memory of her under- 
 standing that language. The curious may not 
 be displeased to be informed, that the Paraclete 
 was built in the parish of Quincey, upon the 
 little river Arduzon, near Nogent, upon the 
 Seine. A lady, learned as was Eloisa in that age, 
 who indisputably understood the Latin, Greek 
 and Hebrew tongues, was a kind of prodigy. 
 
 Her 
 
 * Chaucer also translated this piece. Boetius was a most 
 admired classic of that age ; indeed, he deserves to be so of 
 any. 
 
 t This sentence strongly also characterises the times.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 301 
 
 Her literature, says Abelard,* ** in toto regno 
 nominatissimam facerat :" and, we may be sure, 
 more thoroughly attached him to her. Bussy 
 liabutin speaks in high terms of commendation 
 of the purity of Eloisa's latinity : a judgment 
 worthy a French count ! There is a force, but 
 not an elegance, in her style ; which is blemished, 
 as might be expected, by many phrases unknown 
 to the pure ages of the Roman language, and by * 
 many Hebraisms, borrowed from the translation 
 of the bible. 
 
 I now propose to pass through the f Epistle, 
 in order to give the reader a view of the various 
 turns and tumults of passion, and the different 
 sentiments with which Eloisa is agitated : and at 
 
 the 
 
 * Abel. Opera, p. 10. 
 
 f The compliment which Prior paid our author on this 
 Ei-isTLE, is at once full of elegance and very lively imagery. 
 But Lord Bathurst informs me, that Pope was not pleased with 
 it. He addresses it to Abelard, and says, that Pope has ivoix 
 
 A silken web, and ne'er shall fade 
 Its colours ; gently has he laid 
 The mantle o'er thy sad distress. 
 And Venus shall the texture bless. 
 He o'er the weeping Nun has drawn 
 Such artful folds of sacred lawn, 
 
 That
 
 302 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 the same time, to point out what passages are 
 borrowed, and how much improved, from the 
 original Letters. From this analysis, her strug- 
 gles and conflicts, between duty and pleasure, 
 between penitence and passion, will more amply 
 and strikingly appear. 
 
 She begins with declaring how the peaceful- 
 ness of her situation has been disturbed by a 
 letter of her lover accidentally falling into her 
 hands. This exordium is beautiful, being work- 
 ed up with an awakening solemnity : she looks 
 about her, and breaks out at once, 
 
 * In these deep solitudes and awful cells,+ 
 Where heavenly-pensive Con'templation dwells. 
 
 And 
 
 That Love, with equal grief and pride. 
 
 Shall see the crime he strives to hide ; 
 
 And softly drawing back the veil. 
 
 The god shall to his vot'ries tell. 
 
 Each conscious tear, each blushing grace. 
 
 That deck'd dear Eloisa's face. 
 
 Alma. p. 101, 
 
 * Ver. 1. 
 
 t " If I was ordered to find out the most happy and the 
 most miserable man in the world, I would look for them in a 
 cloister," said a man of penetration.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 303 
 
 And ever-musing Melancholy reigns. 
 What means this tumult in a vestal's veins ? 
 Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat ? 
 Why feels my heart it's long-forgotten heat ? 
 
 She then resolves neitlier to mention nor to write 
 the name of Abelard ; but suddenly adds, in a 
 dramatic manner, 
 
 The name appears 
 
 Already written — wash it out my tears I* 
 
 She then addresses herself to the convent, where 
 she was confined, in fine imagery : 
 
 f Relentless walls ! whose darksome round contains 
 Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains ; 
 X Ye rugged rocks ! which holy knees have worn ; 
 Ye grots and caverns, shaggM with horrid thorn ! 
 
 Shrines, 
 
 * Y. 13. t V. 17. 
 
 + This, and several other circumstances, in the scenery 
 view of the monastery, which denote antiquity, may perhaps 
 be a little blamed, on account of their impropriety, when in- 
 troduced into a place so lately founded as was the Paraclete ; 
 but are so well imagined, and highly painted, that they de- 
 mand excuse. 
 
 1
 
 304 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Shrines, ^vhere their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep ; 
 And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep ! 
 The' cold like you, unmovM and silent grown, 
 I have not yet forgot myself to stone I* 
 
 She proceeds to enumerate the effects which Abe- 
 lard's relation of their misfortunes has had upon 
 her ; yet, notwithstanding what she suffers from 
 them, she intreats him still to write : 
 
 •f Yet write, O write me all ! that I may join 
 Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine. 
 
 This is from the Letters — " Per ipsum itaque — 
 Christum obsecramus ; quatenus ancillulas ipsius 
 & tuas, crebris literis de his, in quibus adhuc 
 fluctuas, naufragiis certificare digneris, ut nos 
 saltem quse tibi soIie remansimus, doloris vel 
 gaudii participes habeas.J On the mention of 
 letters, she breaks out into that beautiful account 
 
 of 
 
 * " Forget thyelf to marble," is an expression of Milton ; 
 as is also, " Caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn :" and the 
 epithets " pale-eyed, and twilight," are frst used in the 
 smaller poems of Milton, which Pope had just, perhaps, been 
 reading. 
 
 t V. 41. t Epist. i. Ileloiss. pag. 46.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 305 
 
 of their use, which is finely improved from the 
 Latin. 
 
 Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid,* 
 
 Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid ; 
 
 They live, they speak, they breathe, -what love inspires, 
 
 Warm from the .soul, and faithful to its fires ;-|- 
 
 The virgin's wish without her fears impart; 
 
 Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart. 
 
 VOL. 1. X " De 
 
 * Ver. 51. 
 
 f It is to be hoped that some of the fair sex, of the abi- 
 lities of Eloisa, (for we have two or three such at present in 
 Great Britain,) will answer the ingenious, but paradoxical, phi- 
 losopher of Geneva, who has vented many blasphemies against 
 the passion of lov^. " II faut distinguer (says he) le moral 
 du physique dans le sentiment de 1' amour. Le physkjue est ce 
 desir general qui porte un sexe a s' unir a Tautre : Le moral 
 est ce qui determine ce desir, & le fixe sur un seul objet, ex- 
 clusivement; ou qui du moins lui donne pour cet objet pr^- 
 f^r^ un plus grand degr^ d'^nergie. Or il est facile de voir 
 que le moral de I'araour est un sentiment factice ; n6 de 
 r usage de la society & c^lebre par les femmes avec beaucoup 
 d'habildt^ & de soin, pour 6tablir leur empire, & rendre do- 
 minant le sexe qui devroit ob^ir." Discours sur I'Origine de 
 I'Inegalite parmi les Hommes. — Par J. J. Rousseau. Amster- 
 dam, 1755. p. 78. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at, that he who has written a satire 
 against human society, should satirize its greatest blessing.
 
 SO^ ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 '* De quibuscunque autem nobis scribas, non 
 parvuni nobis remedium conferes ; hoc ^altenii 
 uno, quod te nostri memorem esse monstrabis." 
 She then quotes * an unnecessary passage of 
 Seneca, and adds, ** Si imagines nobis amicorum 
 absentium jucunda^ sunt, quiE memoriam reno- 
 vant, & desiderium absentise falso atque inani 
 solatio levant; quanto jucundiores sunt litera;, 
 qua; amici absentis veras notas efFerunt ?"'|" The 
 origin of Eloisa's passion is, with much art and 
 knowledge of human nature, ascribed to her ad- 
 miration of her handsome preceptor : this cir- 
 cumstance is particularly poetical, and even sub- 
 lime ; 
 
 X My fancy forra'd thee of angelic kind. 
 Some emanation of th' all-beauteous mind. 
 
 § How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said. 
 Curse on all laws but those which love has made I 
 Let wealth, let honour wait the wedded dame; 
 August her deed, and sacred be her fame; 
 Before true passion all these views remove ; 
 . Fame, wealth, and honour, what are you to love ! 
 
 These 
 
 Epist. p. 47. t Ibid., t V. 61. § V. 73.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 30? 
 
 These sentiments are plainly fronr the letters, 
 " Nihil unquam, cleus scit, in te, nisi te requi- 
 sivi ; te pur^ non tua concupiscens. Non matri- 
 tnonii foedera, non dotes aliquas expectavi. Et 
 si uxoris nomen sanctius ac validius videtur, 
 dulcius mihi semper extitit arnicas vocabulum, 
 aut, si non indigneris, concubinse vel scorti.*— 
 Pope has added a very injudicious thought : 
 
 t The jealous god, when we pTofane his fires^ 
 Those restless passions in revenge inspires. 
 
 And again, 
 
 i Love, free as air, at sight of human ties. 
 
 Spreads his light wings, and in a morn^ntflies. 
 
 It is improper for a person in the situation of 
 Eloisa to mention Cupid ; mythology is here 
 out of its place. The letters also furnished the 
 next thought : 
 
 § Not Caesar's empress would I deign to prove j 
 No, make me mistress of the man I love. 
 
 X 2 " Deum 
 
 * Epist. i. Helolss. page 4f). + V. 81. 
 
 * V. 75. . § V. 87.
 
 308 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS. 
 
 '' Deum testem invoco, si me Augustus, uiii- 
 verso presidens mundo, matrimonii honore dig- 
 naretur, totumque mihi orbem confirmaret in 
 perpetuo praisidendum, charius mihi & dignius 
 vidcretur, tua dici meretrix, quam illius impe- 
 ratrix."* Next she describes their unparalleled 
 happiness in the full and free enjoyment of their 
 loves ; but all at once stops short, and exclaims 
 with eagerness, as if she at that instant saw the 
 dreadful scene alluded to, 
 
 f Alas, how chang'd ! What sudden horrors rise ! 
 A naked lover, bound and bleeding lies ! 
 Where, where was Eloise ? her voice, her hand. 
 Her poniard had oppos'd the dire command ! 
 Barbarian, stay ! that bloody stroke restrain ; 
 ■ The crime was common, common be the pain,| 
 
 One 
 
 * Epist. i. Heloiss. page bO. f V. 99. 
 
 \ It was difficult to mention this catastrophe that befel Abe- 
 lard with any dignity and grace ; in which there is still some- 
 thing indelicate, notwithstanding all the dexterity and manage- 
 ment of our poet, in speaking of so untoward a circumstance. 
 I know not where castration is the chief cause of distress, in 
 any other poem, except in a very extraordinary one of Catul- 
 lus, \yhere Atys, struck with madness by Berecynthia, in a fit 
 -of enthusiasm, inflicts this punishment on himself; after which 
 he laments his condition in very pathetic strains. The poem 
 has been so little remarked on, that I shall take the liberty of 
 
 ijisertinji
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 309 
 
 One knows not which most to applaud, the Hvcly 
 imagery, the pathetic, or the artful decency, 
 
 X 3 with 
 
 inserting the following passage in the speech of Atys, which is 
 very dramatic, full of spirit, and sudden changes of passion : 
 
 Egone a rtiea remota hsec ferar in nemora donno? 
 
 Patria, bonis, amicis, genitoribus abero ? 
 
 Abero foro, palestra, stadio, gym nasi is ? 
 
 Miser, ah miser, querendum est etiam atque etiam anime, •. 
 
 Quod enim genus? figura est? ego numquid abierim ? 
 
 Ego mulierf. — ego adolescens, ego ephebus, ego puer. 
 
 Ego gymnasii fui flos, ego eram decus olei, 
 
 Mihi januae frequentes, raihi limina tepida; 
 
 Mihi floridis corollis redimita domus erat, 
 
 Linquendum ubi esset orto mihi sole cubiculum. 
 
 Egone deum ministra, & Cybeles famula ferar ? 
 
 Egone maenas, ego mei pars, ego vir sterilis ero ? 
 
 Ego viridis algida Idse nive amicta loca colam ? 
 
 Ego vitam agam sub altis Phrygiae columinibus? 
 
 Ubi cerva sylvicultrix, ubi aper nemorivagus ? 
 
 Jam jam dolet quod egi, jam, jam quoque psenitet ! 
 
 The whole poem being of a strain rather superior to the ge- 
 nerality of Roman poesy, and being also so much above the 
 tender and elegant genius of Catullus, whose name it bears,' 
 inclines me to think it a translation from some Grecian writer; 
 and perhaps, if the reader will peruse the whole, it will give 
 him the truest notion of an old dithyrambic, of any poem an- 
 tiquity has left us. The text is in some places much corrupt- 
 ed ; but enough remains pure and intelligible, to place it at 
 the head of Latin poetry, how strangely soever it has been neg- 
 lected. It ought to be observed, that the seventh, eighth, and 
 
 ninth
 
 SIO ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 with M'hich this transaction is delicately hinted 
 at in these most excellent lines ; which are th» 
 genuine voice of nature and passion, and place 
 the object intended to be impressed on the reader 
 full in his sisht. 
 
 *o* 
 
 She next reminds Abelard of the solemnity of 
 lier taking the veil, from verse one hundred and 
 si^, to one hundred and eighteen, which are 
 highly beautiful, particularly these circumstances 
 attendino- the rite 
 
 'o 
 
 As with cold lips I kiss'd the sacred veil^ 
 
 The shrines all tranblcd, and the lamps grexv pale ! 
 
 These two circumstances are fancied with equal 
 force and propriety ; and this supposed prog- 
 nostic of the uneasiness she would undergo in 
 the monastic life, is very affecting. But her pas- 
 sion intruded itself even in the midst of this 
 
 awful 
 
 ninth lines of this quotation, bear a wonderful resemblance to 
 a fine passage in the book of Job, ch. xxix. ver. 6. &. seq. I 
 shall only add, that this is the only cpmplete poem of the 
 kind. 
 
 1
 
 AND WRITINGS OF tOPE, 311 
 
 awful act of devotion, the strengtli of which 
 she represents by this particular, 
 
 * Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew. 
 Not on the Cross my eyes were fixt, but You. 
 
 Here she gives her fondness leave to expatiate 
 into many amorous ideas : 
 
 f Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie, . 
 Still drink delicious poison from thy eye. 
 Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be prest. 
 
 And then follows a line exquisitely passionate, 
 and worthy the sensibility of Sappho or of Eloisa.- 
 
 Give all thou canst! — and let me dream the rest. 
 
 Suddenly she here checks the torrent of this amo- 
 rous transport— 
 
 Ah, no — instruct me other joys to prize,;}; 
 With other beauties charm my partial eyes. 
 Full in my view set all the bright abode. 
 And make my soul quit Abelard for God. 
 
 X 4 She 
 
 * V. 115. t v.. 121.. . t -V: 125.
 
 312 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 She puts him in mind of his being the father and 
 founder of the monastery, and entreats him to - 
 visit his flock on that account. This topic is 
 taken from the Letters : 
 
 From the false world in early youth they fled,* 
 By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts led ; 
 You rais'd these hallovv'd walls; the desert sniiTd, 
 And paradise was open'd in the wild. 
 
 *' Nihil hie super alienum asdificasti fundamen- 
 tum ; totum quod hie est, tua creatio est. Soli- 
 tudo hajc feris tantum, sive latronibus vacans, 
 nullam hominum habitationem noverat, nullam 
 domum habuerat. In ipsis cubilibus ferarum, in 
 ipsis latibuHs latronum, ubi nee nominari deus 
 solet, divinum erexisti tabernaculuni; et spiritus 
 sancti proprium dedicasti temphmi. Nihil ad hoc 
 {Edificandum ex regum vel principum opibus in- 
 tuhsti, cum phuima posses & maxima, ut quic- 
 quid fieret, tibi soH posset ascribi."! Which last 
 sentence is finely improved by Pope ; being at 
 once heightened with pathos and poetic imagery; 
 and containing an oblique satire on benefactions 
 raised by avarice, or extorted by fear. 
 
 No 
 * Ver. 131. t Eplst. i. Heloiss. p. 46.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPS. 313 
 
 No weeping orphan saw his father's stores* 
 Our shines irradiate, or emblaze our floors; 
 No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n, 
 Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n ; 
 But such plain roofs as piety could raise. 
 
 No part of this poem, or indeed of any of 
 Pope's productions, is so truly poetical, and con- 
 tains such strong painting, as the passage to 
 which we are now arrived ; the description of the 
 convent, M'here Pope's religion certainly aided 
 liis fancy. It is impossible to read it, without. 
 I being struck with a pensive pleasure, and a sa- 
 I cred awe, at the solemnity of the scene ; so pic- 
 ^ turesque are the epithets. 
 
 In these lone walls, (their days eternal bound,)f 
 These moss-groiin domes, with spiiy turrets crown'd. 
 Where aivful arches make the noon-day night. 
 And the dim windows shed a solemn light; 
 Thy eyes diffused a reconciling ray. 
 
 All the circumstances that can amuse and sooth 
 the mind of a solitary, are next enumerated in 
 this expressive manner : and the reader that shall 
 
 be 
 
 * Ver. 135. f Ver. 141.
 
 314 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 be disgusted at the length of the quotation, one 
 might pronounce, has no taste either for painting 
 or poetry ; 
 
 The darksome pines, that o'er yon rocks reclin'd,* 
 
 Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind; 
 
 The wand'ring streams, that shine between the hills; 
 
 The grots, that echo to the tinkling rills ; 
 
 The dying gales, that pant upon the trees ;f 
 
 The lakes, that quiver to the curling breeze; 
 
 No more these scenes my meditation aid. 
 
 Or lull to rest the visionary maid. 
 
 The effect and influence of Melancholy, who 
 is beautifully personified, on every object that 
 occurs, and on every part of the convent, can- 
 not be too much applauded, or too often read, as 
 it is founded on nature and experience. That 
 temper of mind casts a gloom on all things. 
 
 But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,j 
 Long-sounding iles, and intermingled graves. 
 
 * V. 155. 
 
 Black 
 
 f Read with this passage, Mr. Gray's account of his jour- 
 Hey to the Grande Chartreuse. Works 4to. p. 67. 
 
 1 Ver. 163.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 315 
 
 / 
 
 Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws 
 A death-like silence, and a dread repose; 
 Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene. 
 Shades every flower, and darkens every green. 
 Deepens the murmur of the falling floods. 
 And breathes a browner horror on the woods. 
 
 The figurative expressions, throzvs, and breathes^ 
 and browner horror, are, I verily believe, some. 
 of the strongest and boldest in the English lan- 
 guage. The IMAGE of the Goddess Melan- 
 choly sitting over the convent, and, as it were, 
 expanding her dreadful wings over its whole cir- 
 cuit, and diffusing her gloom all around it, is 
 truly sublime, and strongly conceived. 
 
 Eloisa proceeds to give an account of the 
 opposite sentiments, that divide and disturb her 
 soul ; these are hinted in the Letters also. 
 
 Ah, wretch I believ'd the spouse of God in vain,* 
 Confess'd within the slave of love and man ! 
 I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought; 
 I mourn the lover, not lament the fault. 
 
 This, 
 
 *■ V. 177.
 
 316 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 This, however, is improved greatly on the ori- 
 ginal. " Castam me prtEclicant, qui non depre- 
 henderunt hypocritam."* — " Quomodo etiam 
 paenitentia peccatorum dicitur, quantacunque sit 
 corporis afHictio, si mens adhuc ipsam peccandi 
 retinet voluntatem, & pristinis se^tuat deside- 
 riis ?"t Slie then fondly calls on xlbelarJ for as- 
 sistance : 
 
 O come I O teach me nature to subdue^t 
 Renounce my love, my life, myself, and — you I 
 Fill my fond heart with God alone ; for he 
 Alone can rival, can succeed to thee I 
 
 Fired with this idea of religion, she takes, occa- 
 sion to dwell on the happiness of a blameless 
 vestalj. one who has no such sin on her con- 
 science, as she has, to bemoan. The life of such 
 an one is described at full length by such sorts 
 of pleasure as none but a spotless nun can par- 
 take of; the climax of her happiness is finely 
 conducted : 
 
 For 
 
 * Epist. p. G8. t Il^id. m. 
 
 t. V. 203:
 
 AND WRITINGS Of POPE. 317 
 
 For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms. 
 And wings of Seraphs shed divine perfumes; 
 For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,* 
 For her white virgins hymeneals sing; 
 To sounds of heavenly harps she dies away. 
 And melts in visions of eternal day ! 
 
 What a judicious and poetical use hath Pope 
 here made of the opinions of the mystics and 
 quietists ! how would Feneion have heen de- 
 lighted with these lines ! True poetry, after all, 
 cannot well suhsist, at least is never so striking, 
 ^without a tincture of enthusiasm. The sudden 
 transition has a fine effect : 
 
 Far other dreams my erring soul employ,t 
 Far other raptures of unholy joy. 
 
 Which raptures are painted with much sensibi- 
 lity, and in very animating colours. " Nee 
 etiam dormienti suis illusionibus parcunt."J 
 
 Again, 
 
 O curst dear horrors of all-conscious night ;§ 
 How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight ! 
 
 * Ver. 217. f V. 223. 
 
 t V. 225. § V, 229. 
 
 This
 
 J18 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 This is very forcibly expressed. She proceeds 
 to recount a dream, in which I was always 
 heavily disappointed, because the imagined dis- 
 tress is such as might attend the dreams of any 
 person whatever.* 
 
 . IMethinks we wand'ring gof 
 
 Thro' dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe. 
 Where, round some mould'ring tow'r pale ivy creeps. 
 And low-brovv'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps; 
 Sadden you mount, you beckon from the skies. 
 Clouds interpose, &c. 
 
 These are, indisputably, picturesque lines ; but 
 ■what we want is a vision of some such appro- 
 priated and peculiar distress, as could be inci- 
 dent to none but Eloisa; and which should be 
 drawn from, and have reference to, her single 
 story. What distinguishes Homer and Shake- 
 speare from all other poets, is, that they do not 
 give their readers general ideas; every image 
 is the particular and unalienable property of the 
 person \vho uses it; it is suited to no other; it is 
 made for him or her alone. Even Virgil himself 
 is not free from this fault, but is frequently ge- 
 neral 
 
 * It is partly, from Dido's dream. ... '■[ \. 2il.
 
 AND. WRrlTlNGS OF POPE. S\^ 
 
 iieral and indiscriminating, wliere Homer is mi- 
 nutely circumstantial. She next compares his 
 situation with her own : 
 
 For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain'' 
 A cool suspense from pleasure and fro;u pain ; 
 Thy life a long dead calm of fixt repose ; 
 ■ No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows. f 
 
 ilere Eloisa glances with great modesty and de- 
 hcacy, at the irreparable misfortune of her mu- 
 tilated lover, whicli she always mentions with 
 rcp-ret. 
 
 o 
 
 A hint in the Letters has been beautifully 
 heightened, and elevated into exquisite poetry^ 
 in the next paragraph. Eloisa says only, '* Inter 
 ipsa missarum splemnia, ubi purior esse debeat 
 oratio, obsccena earum voluptatum phantasmata 
 ita sibi penitus miserrimam captivant animam, 
 ut turpitudinibus illis, magis quam orationi, va- 
 cem. — Nee solum qua? egimus, sed loca pariter 
 
 & tempora," 
 
 * V. 249. 
 
 t The four similics that follow, drawn from religion, are 
 ' ■ • ' ■ „ admirable.
 
 S20 ESSAY OM THE GENIUS 
 
 & tempora,"* &c. — Let us see how this has been 
 improved. 
 
 What scenes appear where'er I turn my view !f 
 The dear ideas where I fly pursue, 
 Rise in the grove, before the altar rise — 
 
 Then follows a circumstance pecuharly tender 
 and proper, as it refers to a particular excellence 
 of Abelard : 
 
 Thy Voice I seem in every hymn to hear,t 
 With every bead I drop too soft a tear. 
 
 To which succeeds that sublime description of a 
 high mass, which came from the poet's soul, and 
 is very striking : 
 
 When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll,§ 
 And swelling organs lift the rising soul. 
 One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight. 
 Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight; 
 In seas of flame niy plunging soul is drown'd. 
 While altars .bla2e,. and angels tremble round. 
 
 I believe 
 
 * Epist. ii. Heloiss, page 67. f V. 263. 
 
 :j: V.209. § V. 271.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 321 
 
 I believe few persons have ever been present at 
 the celebrating a mass in a good choir, but have 
 been extremely affected with awe, if not with 
 devotion ; which ought to put us on our guard 
 against the insinuating nature of so pompous 
 and alluring a religion. Lord Bolingbroke being 
 one day present at this solemnity, in the chapel 
 at Versailles, and seeing the archbishop of Paris 
 elevate the host, whispered his companion, the 
 Marquis de * * * * *, " If I were king of France, 
 I would always perform this ceremony myself." 
 
 Eloisa now acknowledges the weakness of her 
 religious efforts, and gives herself up to the pre- 
 valence of her passion. 
 
 Come, with once glance of those deluding eyes,* 
 Blot out each bright idea of the skies ; 
 Take back that grace, that sorrow, and these tears : 
 Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs ; 
 Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode ; 
 Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God ! 
 
 Suddenly religion rushes back on her mind, and 
 she exclaims eagerly, 
 
 VOL. I. ' Y No; 
 
 * V. 283,
 
 32Q ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 No; fly nie, fly me ! far as pole to pole! — * 
 Ah, come not, ivrite not, think not once of me. 
 Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. 
 Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign; 
 Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine. 
 
 This change is judicious and moving. And the 
 following invocation to hope, faith, and Christian 
 grace, to cojne and take full possession of her 
 soul, is solemn, and suited to the condition of 
 her mind ; for it seems to be the poet's intention, 
 to shew the force of religion over passion at last, 
 and to represent her as a little calm and resigned 
 to her destiny and way of life : to fix her in 
 which holy temper, the circumstance that fol- 
 lows may be supposed to contribute. For she 
 relates an incident to Abelard, which had made 
 a very deep impression on her mind, and cannot 
 fail of making an equal one on the mind of those 
 readers who can relish true poetry, and strong 
 imagery. The scene she paints is awful : she 
 represents herself lying on a tomb, and think- 
 ing she heard some f spirit calling to her in every 
 low wind : 
 
 Here 
 * V. 28^?. ,t V. 307.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 39,3 
 
 Here as I watchM the dying lamps around,* 
 From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound; 
 Come, sister, come, (it said, or seem'd to say ;) 
 Thy place is here, sad sister, come away ! 
 Once, like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd :f 
 Love's victim then, but now a sainted maid. 
 
 This scene would make a fine subject for the 
 pencil, and is worthy a capital painter. He 
 might pilace Eloisa in the long aisle of a great 
 Gothic church; a lamp should hang over her 
 head, whose dim and dismal ray should afford 
 only light enough to make darkness visible. She 
 herself should be represented in the instaiit when 
 she first hears this aerial voice, and in the atti- 
 tude of starting roimd with astonishment and 
 fear. And this was the method a very great 
 master took to paint a sound, if I may be allowed 
 the expression. This subject was the baptism of 
 Jesus Christ ; and, in order to bring into the 
 piece the remarkable incident of the voice from 
 Y 2 heaven, 
 
 * Virgil, however, gave the hint. — Hinc exaudiri voces, & 
 verba vocantis visa viri — L. iv. 460. 
 
 f It is well contrived, that this invisible speaker should be 
 a person that had been under the very same kind of misfor- 
 tunes with Eloisa.
 
 324 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 heaven, which cried aloud, '' This is my be- 
 loved son," he represented all the assembly that 
 attended on the banks of Jordan, gazing up 
 into heaven with the utmost ardor of amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 At this call of a sister in misfortune, who had 
 been visited with a sad similitude of griefs with 
 her own, Eloisa breaks out in a religious trans- 
 port. 
 
 I come, I come ! prepare your roseate bow'rs, 
 Coelestial palms, and ever-blooming flow'rs ; 
 Thither where smners may have rest I go ! 
 
 She then calls on Abelard to pay her the last sad 
 offices, and to be present with her in the article 
 of death : 
 
 See my lips tremble, and my eyeballs roll — 
 
 And then a circumstance of personal fondness 
 intervenes : 
 
 Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul f 
 
 But
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 325 
 
 But she instantly corrects herself, and would 
 have her Abelard attend her at these last solemn 
 moments, only as a devout priest, and not as a 
 fond lover. The image, in which she represents 
 him coming to administer extreme unction, is 
 striking and picturesque : 
 
 Ah, no — in sacred vestments mayst thou stand. 
 The hallow'd taper * trembling in thy hand ; 
 Present the cross before my lifted eye; 
 Teach me at once, and learn of me, to die ! 
 
 She adds, that it will be some consolation to be- 
 hold him once more, though even in the agonies 
 of death : 
 
 Ah then ! thy once-lov'd Eloisa see! 
 It will be then no crime to gaze on me ! 
 
 Which last line I could never read without great 
 emotion ; it is at once so pathetic, and so art- 
 fully points back to the whole train and nature 
 of their misfortunes. The circumstances she 
 wishes may attend the death of Abelard, are 
 Y 3 poetically 
 
 * The words printed in Italics ought to be looked on as 
 particularly beautiful.
 
 326 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 poetically imagined, and are also agreeable to the 
 notions of mystic devotion. The death of St. 
 Jerome is finely painted by Domenichino, with 
 such attendant particulars : 
 
 In trance ecstatic may thy pangs be drown'd ;* 
 Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee round ; 
 From opening skies may streaming glories shine. 
 And saints embrace thee with a love like mine. 
 May one kind grave unite each hapless name. 
 And graft my love immortal on thy fame ! 
 
 This wish was fulfilled. The body of Abelard, 
 who died twenty years before Eloisa, was sent to 
 Eloisa, who interred it in the monastery of the 
 Paraclete, and it was accompanied with a very 
 extraordinary form of Absolution, from the fa- 
 mous Peter de Clugny ; " Ego Petrus Cluniacen- 
 sis abbas, qui Petrum Abelardum in monachum 
 Cluniacensem recepi, & corpus ejus furtim dela- 
 tum Heloissaj Abbatissse, & monialibus Para- 
 cleti concessi, auctoritate omnipotentis Dei, & 
 omnium sanctorum, absolvo eum, pro officio, 
 ab omnibus peccatis suis.''^— " Eloisa herself 
 
 (says 
 
 * Ver. 339. 
 f Epis. Abel. & Heloiss. p. 238.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. S27 
 
 (says * Vigneul Marville) solicited for this abso- 
 lution, and Peter de Clugny willingly granted 
 it : on what it could be founded, I leave to our 
 learned theologists to determine. In certain 
 ages, opinions have prevailed, for which no solid 
 reason can be given." When Eloisa died in 1163, 
 she was interred by the side of her beloved hus- 
 band, I must not forget to mention, for the 
 sake of those who are fond of modern miracles, 
 that when she was put into the grave, Abelard 
 stretched out his arms to receive her, and closely 
 embraced her. 
 
 Eloisa, at the conclusion of the epistle to 
 which we are now arrived, is judiciously repre- 
 sented as gradually settling into a tranquillity of 
 mind, and seemingly reconciled to her fate. She 
 can bear to speak of their being buried together, 
 without violent emotions. Two lovers are intro- 
 duced as visiting their celebrated tombs, and the 
 behaviour of these strangers is finely imagined : 
 
 If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings. 
 To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs, 
 
 Y4 O'er 
 
 *■ Melanges, T. ii. p. 55i,
 
 328 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads. 
 And drink the falling tears each other sheds ; 
 Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd, 
 Oh ! may we never love as these have lov'd ! 
 
 The poet adds, still farther, what impressions 
 a view of their sepulchre would make even on a 
 spectator less interested than these two lovers ; 
 and how it could affect his mind, even in the 
 midst of the most solemn acts of religion ; 
 
 From the full quire Avhen loud Hosannas rise,* 
 And swell the pomp of dreadful sacrifice. 
 Amid that scene, if some relenting eye 
 Glance on the stone where our cold relics lie, 
 , Devotion's self shall steal a thought from heav'n. 
 One human tear shall drop— and be forgiven ! 
 
 With this last line, at first it appears, that the 
 poem should have ended ; for the eight additional 
 verses,! concerning some poet that haply might 
 
 arise 
 * Ver. S53. 
 
 t And sure if fate some future bard shall join 
 In sad similitude of grief to mine, 
 Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore. 
 And image charms he must behold no more ; 
 Such if there be, who loves so long, so >vel]. 
 Let him our sad, our tender story tell ! 
 The well-sung woes will sooth my pensive ghost; 
 He best can paint 'em, who can feel 'em most.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. S29 
 
 arise to sing their misfortune, are languid and 
 flat, and diminish the patlios of the foregoing 
 sentiments. They might stand, it should seenij 
 for the conclusion of almost any story, were we 
 not informed, that they Avere added by the Poet in 
 allusion to his own case, and the state of his own 
 mind. For I am well informed, tliat what deter- 
 mined him in the choice of the subject of this 
 epistle, was the retreat of that lady into a nun- 
 nery, v/hose death he had lately so pathetically 
 lamented in a foregoing Elegy, and for whom lie 
 had conceived a violent passion. She was first 
 beloved by a nobleman,* an intimate friend of 
 Pope, and, on his deserting her, retired into 
 France ; when, before she had made lier last 
 vows in the convent to which she had retreated, 
 she put an end to her unfortunate life. The re- 
 collection of this circumstance will add a beauty 
 and a pathos to many passages in the poem, and 
 will confirm the doctrine delivered above, con- 
 cerning the choice of subject. 
 
 This Epistle is, on the whole, one of the 
 most highly finished, and certainly the most in- 
 teresting, 
 
 * Tiie Duke of Buckingham — Sheffield.
 
 S30 ESSAY ON THE GEXIUS 
 
 teresting, of the pieces of our author ; and, to- 
 gether with the Eleg^ to the Memory of an 
 Unfortunate Lady, is the only instance of the 
 Pathetic Pope has given us. I think one may 
 venture to remark, that the reputation of Pope, 
 ^~fts' a Poet, among posterity, will be principally 
 owing to his Windsor Forest, his Rape of 
 THE Lock, and his Eloisa to Abelard ; v/hilst 
 the facts and characters alluded to and exposed 
 in his later >vritings, will be forgotten and un- 
 known, and their poignancy and propriety little 
 relished. For Wit and Satire are transitory 
 and perishable, but Nature and Passiox are 
 eternal. 
 
 SECTION
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 331 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 OF THE TEMPLE OF FAME, FROM CHAUCER, 
 
 Jr EW disquisitions are more amusing, or per^ 
 haps more instructive, than those which relate to 
 the rise and gradual increase of literature in any 
 kingdom : And among the various species of 
 literature, the origin and progress of poetry, 
 however shallow reasoners may despise it, is a 
 subject of no small utility. For the manners 
 and customs, the different ways of thinking and 
 of living, the favourite passions, pursuits, and 
 pleasures, of men, appear in no writings so 
 strongly marked, as in the works of the poets in 
 their respective ages ; so that in these composi- 
 tions, the historian, the moralist, the politician, 
 and the philosopher, may each of them meet 
 with abundant matter for reflection and observa- 
 tion. 
 
 Poetry
 
 352 *SSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Poetry made its first appearance in Britain, as 
 perhaps in most other countries, in the form of 
 chronicles, intended to perpetuate the deeds both 
 of civil and military heroes, but mostly the lat- 
 ter. Of this species is the chronicle of Robert 
 of Glocester ; and of this species also was the 
 song, or ode, of Roland, which WiUiam the 
 Conqueror, and his followers, sung at their land- 
 ing in this kingdom from Normandy. The men- 
 tion of which event will naturally remind us of 
 the check it gave to the native strains of the old 
 British poetry, by an introduction of foreign 
 manners, customs, images, and language. These 
 ancient strains were, however, sufficiently harsh, 
 dry, and uncouth. And it was to the Italians 
 we owed any thing that could be called poetry : 
 from whom Chaucer, imitated by Pope in this 
 vision, copied largely, as they are said to have 
 done from the Bards of Provence ; and to which 
 Italians he is perpetually owning his obligations, 
 particularly to Boccace and Petrarch. But Pe- 
 trarch had great advantages, which Chaucer 
 wanted, not only in the friendship and advice of 
 Boccace, but still more in having found such a 
 predecessor as Dante. In the year ] 3.59, Boccace 
 
 sent
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 533 
 
 sent to Petrarch a copy of Dante, whom he 
 called his father, written with his own hand. 
 And it is remarkahle, that he accompanied his 
 present with an apology for sending this poem to 
 Petrarch, who, it seems, was jealous of Dante, 
 and in the answer speaks coldly of his merits. 
 This circumstance, unobserved by the generality 
 of writers, and even by Fontanini, Crescembini, 
 and Muratori, is brought forward, and related at 
 large, in the third volume, page 507, of the very 
 entertaining INIemoirs of the Life of Petrarch. 
 In the year 1363, Boccace, driven from Florence 
 by the plague, visited Petrarch at Venice, and 
 carried with him Leontius Pilatus, of Thessalo- 
 nica, a man of genius, but of haughty, rough, 
 and brutal manners : from this singular man, 
 who perished in a voyage from Constantinople to 
 Venice, 1355, Petrarch received a Latin transla- 
 tion of the Iliad and Odyssey. JMuratori, in his 
 1. book, Delia Perfetta Poesia, p. 18, relates, 
 that a very few years after the death of Dante, 
 1321, a most curious work on the Italian poetry 
 was written by a M. A. di Tempo, of which he 
 had seen a manuscript in the great library at 
 Milan, of the year 1332, and of which this is 
 1 the
 
 334) £SSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 the title : Incipit Siimma Artls Ritmici ^vulgaris 
 dictaminis. The chapters are thus divided. Rit- 
 morum 'vulgarimn septem sunt genera. 1. Est 
 Sonetus. 2. Ballata. 3. Cantio extensa. 4. 
 Rotundellus. 5. Mandriahs. 6. Serventesius. 
 7. Motus confectus. But whatever Chaucer 
 might copy from the Itahans, yet the artful and 
 entertaining plan of his Canterbury Tales was 
 purely original, and his own. This admirable 
 piece, even exclusive of its poetry, is highly va- 
 luable, as it preserves to us the liveliest and ex- 
 actest picture of the manners, customs, charac- 
 ters, and habits, of our forefathers, whom he 
 has brought before our eyes acting as on a stage, 
 suitably to their different orders and employ- 
 ments. With these portraits the driest antiquary 
 must be delighted : by this plan he has more 
 judiciously connected these stories which the 
 guests relate, than Boccace has done his novels ; 
 whom he has imitated, if not excelled, in the 
 variety of the subjects of his tales. It is a com- 
 mon mistake, that Chaucer's excellence lay in 
 \ his manner of treating hght and ridiculous sub- 
 ; jects ; for whoever will attentively consider the 
 ^ noble poem of Palamon and Arcite, will be con- 
 vinced,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 335 
 
 vinced, tliat he equally excels in the pathetic 
 and the suhlime. It has been but lately proved, 
 that the Palamon and Arcite of Chaucer, is 
 taken from the Theseida of Boccace ; a poem 
 which has been, till M'ithin a few years past, 
 strangely neglected and unknown ; and of which 
 Mr. Tyrwhitt has given a curious and exact sum- 
 mary, in his Dissertation on the Canterbury 
 Tales, vol. iv. p. 135. I cannot forbear express- 
 ing my surprise, that the circumstance of Chau- 
 cer's borrowing this tale should have remained so 
 long unobserved, when it is so plainly and po- 
 sitively mentioned in a book so very common as 
 the Memoirs of Niceron ; who says, t. 33. p. 44, 
 after giving an abstract of the story of Palamon 
 and Arcite, G. Chaucer, I'Homere de son pays, 
 a mis I'ouvrage de Boccace en "cers Anglois. This 
 book was published by Nicero7i 1736. He also 
 mentions a French translation of the Theseida, 
 published at Paris M,D,CC. \597, in 12mo. 
 The late Mi: Stanley, who M^as as accurately 
 skilled in modern as in ancient Greek, for a long 
 time was of opinion, that this poem, in modern 
 pohtical Greek verses, was the original ; in which 
 0|)inion he was confirmed by the Abb(^ Barthelemy^ 
 2 at
 
 336 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 at Paris, whose learned correspondence with Mr. 
 Stanley on this subject I have read. At last Mr. 
 Stanley gave up this opinion, and was convinced 
 that Boccace invented the tale. Crescembini and 
 Muratori have mentioned the Theseida more 
 than once. That very laborious and learned an- 
 tiquary Apostolo Zeno, speaks thus of it, in his 
 Notes to the Bibliotheca of Fo?ifamm, p. 450, t. 
 i. Questa opera pastorale (that is, the ameto) 
 che prende il nome dal pastore ameto, ha data 
 I'origine all egloga Italiana, non senza lode del 
 Boccacio, cui pure la nostra lingua du il ritrova- 
 mento della ottava rima (which was first used in 
 the Theseida) e del poema eroico. Gravina does 
 not mention this poem. Crescembini gives this 
 opinion of it, p. 118, t. I. Nel medesimo se- 
 colo del Petrarca, il Boccacio diede principio air 
 Epica, colla sua Tescide, e col Filostrato ; ma 
 nello stile non ecced6 la mediocrita, anzi sovente 
 cadde nell' umile. The fashion that has lately 
 obtained, in all the nations of Europe, of repub- 
 lishing and illustrating their old poets, does ho- 
 nour to the good taste and liberal curiosity of 
 the present age. It is always pleasing, and in- 
 deed useful, to look back to the rude beginnings 
 
 of
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 337 
 
 of any art, brought to a greater degree of ele- 
 gance and grace. 
 
 Aurea nunc, olini sylvestribus horrida damis. 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 Among other instances of vanity, the French are 
 perpetually boasting, that they have been our mas- 
 ters in many of the polite arts, and made earlier 
 improvements in literature. But it may be asked, 
 "what contemporary poet can they name to stand 
 in competition with Chaucer, except William de 
 Loris ? In carefully examining the curious work 
 of the president Fauchet, on the characters of 
 the ancient French poets, I can find none of this 
 age, but barren chroniclers, and harsh roman- 
 cers in rhyme, without the elegance, elevation, 
 invention, or harmony, of Chaucer. Pasquiere 
 informs us, that it was about the time of Charles 
 Yl. 1380, that les chants* royaux, balades, ron- 
 deaux, and pastorales, began to be in vogue ; 
 VOL. I. Z but 
 
 * Zurita, the Spanish historian, relates, that John the First, 
 King of Arragon, invited the Troubadours to settle in Barce- 
 lona in the fourteenth century. The famous Marquis of Vil- 
 iena, who wrote the celebrated work, called Gui/a Sciaitia, 
 died 143 k
 
 338 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 but these compositions are low and feeble, in 
 comparison of the venerable English bard. Frois- 
 sart, the valuable historian, about the same time 
 wrote very indifferent verses. Charles of Or- 
 leans, father of Lewis XII. left a manuscript of 
 his poems. At his death Francis Villon was 
 thirty-three years old ; and John Marot, the 
 father of Clement, was then born. According 
 to Boileau, whose testimony as a poet, but not, 
 I fear, as an antiquarian, should be regarded, Vil- 
 lon was the first who gave any form and order to 
 the French poetry. 
 
 Villon sceut le premier, dans ces siecles grossieurs, 
 D' ebrouiller 1' art confus de nos vieux Romanciers.* 
 
 But Villon was merely a pert and insipid ballad- 
 monger, whose thoughts and diction were as 
 low and illiberal as his life. 
 
 The House of Fame, as Chaucer entitled his 
 piece, gave the hint, as we observed, of the 
 poem before us ; though the design is, in truth, 
 improved and heightened by the masterly hand 
 
 of 
 
 * L'Art. Poet. chan. i.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 339 
 
 of Pope. It is not improbable, that this subject 
 Avas suggested to our author, not only by Dry- 
 den's translations of Chaucer, of which Pope 
 was so fond, but likewise by that celebrated pa- 
 per of Addison, in the Tatler, called the Tables 
 of Fame, to which the great worthies of anti- 
 quity are introduced, and seated according to 
 their respective merits and characters ; and which 
 was published some years before this poem was 
 written. Chaucer himself borrowed his descrip- 
 tion from Ovid, in the beginning of the twelfth 
 book of his Metamorphoses, from whence he has 
 closely copied the situation and formation of the 
 edifice. 
 
 Orbe locus medio est inter terrasque fretumque, 
 Coelestesque plagas, triplicis confinia mundi, 
 Unde quod est usquan), quamvis regionibus absit, 
 Inspicitur, peuetratque cavas vox omiiis ad aures.* 
 
 Ovid has introduced some allegorical personages, 
 but has not distinguished them with any pic- 
 turesque epithets : 
 
 Z 2 lUic 
 
 -^ Ver. 89.
 
 340 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Illic CiiEDULiTAS, illic tcmerarius EunoR, 
 Vanaque L^titia est, consternatique Timores, 
 Seditioque rccens, dubioque auctore Susurru* 
 
 Diyden translated this passage of Ovid : and 
 Pope, who evidently formed himself upon Dry- 
 den, could not but have frequently read it with 
 pleasure, particularly the following harmonious 
 lines : 
 
 'Tis built of brass, the better to diffuse 
 The spreading sounds, and multiply the news j 
 Where echos in repeated echos play : 
 A mart for ever full, and open night and day. 
 Nor silence is within, nor voice express. 
 But a deaf noise of sounds that never cease, 
 f Confus'd, and chiding, like the hollow roar 
 Of tides receding from th' insulted shore : 
 Or like the broken thunder heard from far, 
 
 When Jove to distance drives the rolling war. 
 
 * Ver. 59. 
 t Confus'd, &c. 
 
 It 
 
 This is more poetically expressed than the same image in 
 our author. 
 
 Sudden I heard a wild promiscuous sound. 
 Like broken thunders that at distance roar. 
 Or billows murm'ring on the hollow shore. 
 
 Dryden's
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 341 
 
 It is time to proceed to some remarks on par- 
 ticular passages of this Vision, which I shall do 
 in the order in which they occur, not censuring 
 or commending any, Vvithout a reason assigned. 
 
 1. Nor was the work impair'd l)y storms alone. 
 But felt th' apijioaches of too warm a sunj 
 For Fame, impatient of extremes, decays 
 Not more by envy, than excess of praise. 
 
 Does not this use of the heat of the sun ap- 
 pear to be a puerile and far-fetched conceit? 
 What connection is there betwixt the two sorts of 
 excesses here mentioned? My purpose in ani- 
 madverting so frequently, as 1 have done, on 
 this species of false thoughts, is to guard the 
 reader, especially of the younger sort, from be- 
 ing betrayed by the authority of so correct a 
 writer as Pope, into such specious and false or- 
 Z 3 naments 
 
 Dry den's lines are superior to the original. 
 
 Qualia de pelagi, siquis procul audiat, undis 
 Esse Solent, quaiemve sonum, cum Jupiter atras 
 Increpuit nubes, extrema tonitrua reddunt. 
 
 B. xii. V. 50. 
 
 In this passage of Drydcn are many instances of the allite- 
 ration, which he has managed beautifully.
 
 342 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 iiaments of stile. For the same reason, the op- 
 position of ideas in the three last words of the 
 following line may be condemned. 
 
 And legislators seem to think in stone.* 
 
 2. So Zembla's rocks, the beauteous work of frost. 
 Rise white in air, and glitter o'er the coast j 
 Pale suns, unfelt, at distance roll away. 
 And on th' impassive ice the light'nings play; 
 Eternal snows the growing mass supply. 
 Till the bright mountains prop th' incumbent sky ; 
 As Atlas fix'd each hoary pile appears. 
 The gather'd Winter of a thousand years. f 
 
 A real lover of painting will not he contented 
 with a single view and examination of this beau- 
 tiful J winter-piece, but will return to it, again 
 and again^ with fresh delight. The images are 
 distinct, and the epithets lively and appropriated, 
 especially the words, pale^ unfelt, impassive, in- 
 cumbent, gathered. 
 
 3. There great Alcides, stooping with his toil. 
 
 Rests on his club, and holds the Hesperian spoil. § 
 
 It 
 
 * V. 74. t V. 53. 
 
 t The reader may consult Thomson's Winter, v. 905. 
 
 § V. 81.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 343 
 
 It were to be wished, that our author, whose 
 knowledge and taste of the fine arts were un- 
 questionable, had taken more pains in describing 
 so famous a statue as that of the Farnesian Her- 
 cules, to which he plainly refers; for he has 
 omitted the characteristical excellencies of this 
 famous piece of Grecian workmanship, namely, 
 the uncommon breadth of the shoulders, the 
 knottiness and spaciousness of the * chest, the 
 firmness and protuberance of the muscles iu 
 each limb, particularly the legs, and the majestic 
 vastness of the whole figure, undoubtedly de- 
 signed by the artist to give a full idea of 
 Strength, as the Venus de Medicis of Beauty. 
 These M^ere the ** invicti membra Glyconis,*^ 
 which, it is probable, Horace proverbially al- 
 luded to in his first epistle.f The name of Gly- 
 con is to this day preserved on the base of the 
 figure, as the maker of it ; and as the virtuosi, 
 customarily in speaking of a picture, or statue, 
 call it their Raphael or Bernini, why should 
 
 Z 4 not 
 
 * Luxuiiatque toris aniraosum pectus. 
 
 Virg. Georg. lib. iii. ver. 81. 
 
 t V. 30.
 
 344 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 not Horace, in common speech, use the name of 
 the workman instead of the work ? To mention 
 the Hesperian apples, which the artist flung 
 backwards, and almost concealed as an inconsi- 
 derable object, and which therefore scarcely ap- 
 pear in the statue, was below the notice of Pope. 
 
 4. Amphion thfere the loud creating lyre 
 
 Strikes, and beholds a sudden Thebes aspire. 
 
 Cythoeroa's echos answer to his call. 
 
 And half the mountain rolls into a wall : 
 
 There might you see the lengthening spires ascend. 
 
 The domes swell up, the widening arches bend, 
 
 The growing tow'rs like exhalations rise. 
 
 And the huge columns heave into the skies.* 
 
 It may be imagined, that these expressions 
 are too bold ; and a phlegmatic critic might ask, 
 how it was possible to see, in sculpture, Arches 
 lending, and Towers gromng ? But the best 
 writers, in speaking of pieces of painting and 
 sculpture, use the present or imperfect tense, and 
 talk of the thing as really doing, to give a force 
 to the description. Thus Virgil, 
 
 Gallos in limine adesse canebat.f 
 
 — Incedunt 
 * Y. 85. I Lib. viii. V. Q5Q.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 345 
 
 — Incedunt victse longo ordine gentes, 
 
 Quatn variae Unguis, habitu tarn vestis ct armis.* 
 
 As Pliny says, that, Clesilochus painted, ''Jovem 
 muliebriter ingemiscentem." And Elomer, in his 
 beautiful and lively description of the shield, 
 
 — 2V d »fX TOKTIV 
 
 AvXoi ^ofifA.iyi'ss T£ QoTov iX'^v.f — — • 
 
 And again, 
 
 Myx5jS/xw o' afro xovpa iTTKTO-tvoHo vo(ji.oy oe, 
 TJccf Tuoluixov xEXat^ov/a.i — — — 
 
 In another place, 
 
 — — Aivov vrro xaAov a(£;^£.§ 
 
 Upon which Clark has made an observation that 
 surprises me : " scd quomodo in scuto depinci 
 potuit, quern caneret citharista?" 
 
 Th 
 
 IS 
 
 * Lib. viii. V. T22. f Iliad, lib. xviii, v. 494. 
 
 j: V. 575. § V. 570.
 
 346 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 This passage must not be parted with, till we 
 have observed the artful rest upon the first syl- 
 lable of the second verse : 
 
 Amphion there the loud creating lyre 
 Strikes | . 
 
 There are many instances of such judicious 
 pauses in Homer. 
 
 Avixf lllilC CCvlot(Tt /jEXoI I^ETTEfXE; EpitIT 
 
 As likewise in the great imitator of Homer, who 
 always accommodates the sound to the sense : 
 
 And over them triumphant death his dart 
 Shook.f 
 
 — — — Others on the grass 
 
 Couch'd.+ 
 
 And of his blindness : 
 
 But 
 
 * Lib. i. V. 5 1 . t Milton, b. xi. v. 49 1 . 
 
 $B. iv. V. 351.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 347 
 
 — But not to me returns 
 
 Day ! 
 
 In the spirited speech of Satan : 
 
 All good to me becomes 
 
 Bane.* 
 
 These monosyllables have much force and energy. 
 The Latin language does not admit of such. 
 Virgil, therefore, who so M^ell understood and 
 copied all the secret arts and charms of Homer's 
 versification, has afforded us no examples; yet, 
 some of his pauses on words of more syllables in 
 the beginning of lines are emphatical ; 
 
 Vox quoque per lucos vulgo exaudita silentcs, 
 Ingens.f — — — — 
 
 — — — liferent infix! pectore vultus 
 Verbaque.X 
 
 Sola domo maret vacua, stratisque relictis 
 Incubat.§ 
 
 Pecudesque 
 
 * B. ix. V. 122. t Georg. i. v. 476. 
 
 i JEn. iv. V. 4-. § JEn. iv. v. 82.
 
 348 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 — Pecudesque locutae, 
 
 lufandum !* — — 
 
 5. These stopp'd the moon, and call'd th' unbody'd shades 
 To midnight banquets in the glimm'ring glades; 
 Made visionary fabrics round them rise. 
 And airy spectres skim before their eyes ; 
 Of Talismans and Sigils knew the pow'r. 
 And careful watch'd the planetary hour.f 
 
 These superstitions of the East are highly 
 striking to the imagination. Since the time that 
 poetry has been forced to assume a more sober, 
 and, perhaps, a more rational air, it scarcely ven- 
 tures to enter these fairy regions. There are 
 some, however, who think it has suffered by de- 
 serting these fields of fancy, and by totally lay- 
 ing aside the descriptions of magic and enchant- 
 ment. What an exquisite picture has Thom- 
 son given us in his dehghtful Castle of Indo- 
 lence ! 
 
 As when a shepherd of the Hebrid Isles, 
 Plac'd far amid the melancholj' Main, 
 (Whether it be lone fancy him beguiles. 
 Or that aerial beings sometimes deign 
 
 T« 
 
 * Georg. i. ▼. 478. t V. lOL
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 349 
 
 To stand, embodied, to our senses plain,) 
 Sees on the naked hill, or valley low. 
 The whilst in ocean Phoebus dips his wain, 
 A vast assembly moving to and fro. 
 Then all at once in air dissolves the wo'Werous show.* 
 
 I cannot at present recollect any solitude so 
 romantic, or peopled with beings so proper to 
 the place, and the spectator. The mind natu- 
 rally loves to lose itself in one of these wilder- 
 nesses, and to forget the hurry, the noise and 
 splendor of more polished life. 
 
 6. But on the South, a long majestic race 
 
 Of iEgypt's priests the gilded niches grace.f 
 
 I wish Pope had enlarged on the rites and ce- 
 remonies of these Egyptian priests, a subject 
 finely suited to descriptive poetry. Milton has 
 touched some of them finely, in an ode not suffi- 
 ciently attended to : 
 
 Nor is Osiris seen 
 
 In Memphian grove or green. 
 
 Trampling 
 
 * Castle of Indolence, Stan. 30. B. 1. 
 t V. 109.
 
 350 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Trampling the uushower'd grass with lowings loud : 
 Nor can he be at rest 
 Within his sacred chest. 
 Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud: 
 
 In vain with timbrel'd anthems dark. 
 The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worship'd ark.* 
 
 7. High on his car Sesostris struck my view, 
 
 "Whom sceptred slaves in golden harness drew ; 
 His hands a bow and pointed jav'lin hold. 
 His giant limbs are arm'd in scales of gold.f 
 
 This colossal statue of the celebrated Eastern 
 tyrant is not very strongly imagined. As Phidias 
 is said to have received his ideas of majesty in 
 his famous Jupiter, from a passage in Homer, so 
 it i^ o be wished, that our author's imagination 
 had been inflamed and enlarged, by studying 
 Milton's magnificent picture of Satan. The word 
 holdf in the third line, is particularly feeble and 
 flat. It is well known, that the ^Egyptians, in 
 all their productions of art, mistook the gigantic 
 for the sublime, and greatness of bulk for great- 
 ness of manner. 
 
 8. Of 
 * Milton's Poems, Vol. H. Page 30. Newton*s Edit. Oct, 
 t V. 113.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 251 
 
 8. Of Gothic structure was the Northern side, 
 O'urwrought with ornaments of barb'rous pride.* 
 
 ** Those who have considered the theory of 
 Architecture, (says a writer who had thoroughly 
 studied it,) tell us the proportions of the three 
 Grecian orders were taken from the Human 
 Body, as the most beautiful and perfect produc- 
 tion of nature. Hence were derived those grace- 
 ful ideas of columns, which had a character of 
 strength without clumsiness, and of delicacy 
 without weakness. Those beautiful proportions 
 were, I say, taken originally from nature, which, 
 in her creatures, as hath been already observed, 
 referreth to some use, end, or design. T'.^ Gon- 
 fiezza also, or swelling, and the diminution of a 
 pillar, is it not in such proportion as to make it 
 appear strong and light at the same time ? In the 
 same manner, must not the whole entablature, 
 with its projections, be so proportioned, as to 
 seem great, but not heavy; light, but not little; 
 inasmuch as a deviation into either extreme, 
 would thwart that reason and use of things, 
 1 wherein 
 
 * V. 119.
 
 552 ESSAY OxV THE GENIUS 
 
 ^v'hercln tlicir beauty is founded, and to which it 
 is subordinate ? The entablature, and all its parts 
 and ornaments, architrave, freeze, cornice, tri- 
 gl\ phs, metopes, modiglions, and the rest, have 
 each an use, or appearance of use, in giving 
 firmness a-id union to the building, in protecting 
 it from the weather, in casting off the rain, in 
 representing the ends of the beams with their in- 
 tervals, the produc-tion of the rafters, and so 
 forth. And if v/e consider the graceful angles 
 in frontispieces, the spaces between the columns, 
 or the ornaments of the capitals, shall we not 
 find that their beauty ariseth from the appear- 
 ance of use, or the imitation of natural things, 
 v/hose beauty is originally founded on the same 
 principle? Which is, indeed, the grand distinc- 
 tion between Grecian and Gothic architecture : 
 the latter being fantastical, and for the most part 
 founded neither in nature nor reason, in neces- 
 sity nor use ; the appearance of Avhich accounts 
 for all the beauties, graces, and ornaments of 
 the other."* 
 
 9. There 
 * ALCU'imoN, Vol. I. Dial. III.
 
 And writings of pope. 353 
 
 9. There sat Zamolxis with erected eyes. 
 And Odin here in mimic trances dies. 
 There on rutle iron columns, smcar'd with blood. 
 The horrid forms of Scythian heroes stood • 
 Druids and bards, (their once loud harps unstrung,) 
 And youths that died to be by poets sung.* 
 
 Sir William Temple, always a pleasing, 
 though not a solid writer, relates tlie following 
 anecdote. " In discourse upon this subject, and 
 confirmation of this opinion having been general 
 among the Goths of those countries, Count 
 Oxenstiern, the Swedish Ambassador, told me, 
 there was still in Sweden, a place which was a 
 memorial of it, and was called Odin's Hall: that 
 it was a great bay in the sea, encompassed on 
 three sides with steep and ragged rocks ; and 
 that in the time of the Gothic Paganism, men 
 that were either sick of diseases they esteemed 
 mortal or incurable, or else grown invalid with 
 age, and thereby past all military action, and 
 fearing to die meanly and basely, as they es- 
 teemed it, in their beds, they usually caused 
 themselves to be brought to the nearest part of 
 
 VOL. 1. A a these 
 
 * V. 123.
 
 354 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 these rocks, and from thence threw themselves 
 down into the sea, hoping, by the boldness of 
 such a violent death, to renew the pretence of 
 admission into the Hall of Odin, which they had 
 lost by failing to die in combat, and by arms."* 
 
 In these beautifid verses we must admire the 
 postures of Zamolxis and Odin, which exactly 
 point out the characters of these famous legisla- 
 tors, and instructors, of the Northern nations. 
 
 As expressive, and as much in character, are 
 the figures of the old heroes, druids, and bards, 
 which are represented as standing on iron pillars 
 of barbarous workmanship : they remind one of 
 that group of personages, which Virgil, a lover 
 of antiquity, as every real poet must be, has ju- 
 diciously placed before the palace of Latinus : 
 
 Qainetiam veterum effigies ex ordine avorum, 
 Antiqua e cedro, Italusque, paterque Sabinus 
 Yitisator, curvam servans sub imagine falcem ; 
 Saturnusque senex, Janique bifroiitis imago. 
 Vestibule astabant.-f — 
 
 Consider 
 
 * Temple's Works, Vol. III. page 238. 
 t Ver. 177. iEn. 1. 7.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 355 
 
 Consider also tlie description of Evander's 
 court, and the picture of ancient manners it af- 
 fords, one of the most striking parts of the 
 Mneu\. The mind delights to he carried back- 
 ward into those primitive times when 
 
 Passimque armenta videbant 
 
 Romanoque ybro & lautis inugire carinis. 
 
 And the view of those places and buildings in 
 their first rude and artless state, which became 
 afterwards so magnificent and celebrated, forms 
 an amusing contrast. 
 
 I have frequently wondered that our modern wri- 
 ters have made so little use of the druidical times, 
 and the traditions of the old bards, which afford 
 subjects fruitful of the most genuine poetry, Avith 
 respect both to imagery and sentiment, Mr. Gray, 
 however, has made ample amends, by his last no- 
 ble ode on the expulsion of the Bards from Wales : 
 
 Cold Is Cadwallo's tongue. 
 That hush'd the stormy main : 
 Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed : 
 Mountains, ye mourn in vain 
 Mod red, vshose magic song 
 Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-top'd head. 
 
 A a 2 On
 
 256 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 On dreary Arvon's shore they lie, 
 Smear'd with gore, and ghastly pale ! 
 
 Far, far aloof th' aflrighted ravens sail; 
 
 The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by.* 
 
 The ancients constantly availed themselves of 
 the mention of particular mountains, rivers, and 
 other objects of nature ; and, indeed, almost 
 confine themselves to the tales atid traditions of 
 their respective countries : whereas we have been 
 strangely neglectful in celebrating our own Se- 
 vern, Thames, or Malvern, and have there- 
 fore fallen into trite repetitions of classical images, 
 as well as classical names. Our muses have sel- 
 dom been 
 
 playing on the steep 
 
 Where our old bards, the famous Druids, lie,-|- 
 
 Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, 
 
 Nor yet where Deva spreads her wMsard stream.^ 
 
 Milton, 
 
 * Dodsley's Miscellanies, Vol. VI, p. 327. 
 
 f Supposed to be a place in the mountains of Denbighshire, 
 called Druids Stones, because of the many stone chests and 
 coffins found there. 
 
 J Lycidas, Ver. 53.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 357 
 
 Milton, we see, was sensible of the force of such 
 imagery, as we may gather from this short but ex- 
 quisite passage ; and so were Drayton and Spen- 
 ser. What pictures would a writer of the fancy 
 of Theocritus, have drawn from the scenes and 
 stories of the Isle of Anglesey ! 
 
 Yet, still enamour'd of their ancient haunts. 
 
 Unseen of mortal eyes, they hover round 
 
 Their ruin'd altars ; consecrated hills. 
 
 Once girt with spreading oaks ; mysterious rows 
 
 Of rude enormous obelisks, that rise 
 
 Orb within orb, stupendous monuments 
 
 Of artless architecture, such as now 
 
 Oft-times amaze the wandering traveller. 
 
 By the pale moon discern'd on Sarum's plain,* 
 
 I cannot conclude this article, without insert- 
 ing two stanzas of an old Runic ode f preserved 
 by Olaus Wormius, containing the dying words 
 of Ludbrog, who reigned in the north above 
 eight hundred years ago, and Avho is supposed 
 to be just expiring by the mortal bite of a ser- 
 pent, 
 
 A a 3 Pugnaviraus 
 
 * See a fine dramatic poem, by Mr. "West, entitled, The 
 Institution of the Order of the Garter. 
 
 t Cited in Dr. Hickes's valuable Thesaurus,
 
 358 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Pugnavimus ensibus. Hoc ridere me facit semper. 
 Quod Balderi Patris Scamna, parata scio in aula. 
 Bibemus cerevisiam ex concavis craterlbus craniorum. 
 Non gemit vir fortis contra mortem ! INIagnifici in Odini 
 
 domibus, 
 Non venio desperabundus, verbis ad Odini aulam. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Fert animus finire : Invitant me Dysse, 
 
 Ciuas ex Odini aula Odinus raihi misit. 
 
 Laetus cerevisiam, cum Asis, in summa sede bibam. 
 
 Vitse elapsae sunt lioree ! Ridens moriar ! 
 
 These stanzas breathe the true spirit of a bar- 
 barous old warrior. The abruptness and brevity 
 of the sentences are much in character ; as is the 
 noble disdain of life expressed by the two last 
 Avords, Ridens vioriar. To this brave and vaHant 
 people is mankind indebted for one of the most 
 useful deliverances it ever received ; I mean, the 
 destruction of the universal empire of Rome. The 
 great prerogative of Scandinavia, and M'hich 
 ought to place the nations which inhabit it above 
 all the people of the world, is, that this country 
 has been the source of the liberty of Europe ; 
 1 tliat
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 359 
 
 that is to say, of almost all the liberty that is to 
 be found among men. Jornandes, the Goth, 
 has called the North of Europe the magazine or 
 work-shop of human-kind : I should rather call 
 it the magazine of those instruments which broke 
 in pieces the chains which were forged in the 
 South. There those heroic nations were formed, 
 who issued from their country to destroy the 
 tyrants and slaves of the earth, and to teach 
 men, that Nature having made them equal, Rea- 
 son could not make them dependent, but only 
 for the sake of their own happiness.* 
 
 Liberty and courage are the offspring of the 
 northern, and luxury and learning of the sou- 
 thern, nations. 
 
 Oft o'er the trembling nations from afar 
 
 Has Scythia breath'd the living cloud of war; 
 
 And, where the deluge burst, with sweepy sway. 
 
 Their arms, their kings, their gods, were roH'd away. 
 
 As oft have issued, host impelling host. 
 
 The blue-ey'd myriads from the Baltic coast. 
 
 The prostrate South to the destroyer yields 
 
 Her boasted titles, and her golden fields : 
 
 A a 4. With 
 
 * See L'Esprit de Loix, liv. XIV. and liv. XVU.
 
 J50 essay on the genius 
 
 With grim delight the brood of winter view 
 A brighter day, and heavens of azure hue. 
 Scent the new fragrance of the breathing rose. 
 And quaff the pendant vintage as it grows. 
 
 Gray's Works, 4to. p. 196. 
 
 10. But in the centre of the hallowM choir. 
 Six pompous columns o'er the rest aspire ; 
 Around the shrine itself of Fame they stand. 
 Hold the chief honours, and the fane command.* 
 
 The six persons Pope thought proper^o select 
 as worthy to be placed on these pillars as the 
 highest seats of honour, are Homer, Virgil, 
 Pindar, Horace, Aristotle, TuLLY.f It is 
 observ^ible, that our author has omitted the great 
 dramatic poets of Greece. Sophocles and Euri- 
 pides deserved certainly an honourable niche in 
 the Temple of Fame, as much as Pindar and 
 Horace. But the truth is, it was not fashionable 
 
 in 
 
 * Ver. 178. 
 
 ■f Chaucer has mentioned Statius in this place, in a mannei: 
 that suits his character : 
 
 Upon an iron pillar strong. 
 That painted was all eudilong. 
 With tygei*'s blood in every place. 
 The Tholosan that hight y Stace.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 3^1 
 
 in Pope's time, nor among his acquaintance, at- 
 tentively to study these poets. By a strange 
 fatahty, they have not in this kingdom obtained 
 the rank they deserve amongst classic writers. 
 We have numberless treatises on Horace and Vir- 
 gil, for instance, who, in their different kinds, 
 do not surpass the authors in question ; whilst 
 hardly a critic among us, has professedly pointed 
 out their excellencies. Even real scholars"^-' think 
 it sufficient to be acquainted and touched with 
 the beauties of Homer, Hesiod, and Callimachus, 
 without proceeding to enquire 
 
 I 
 
 f' What the lofty grave tragedians taught. 
 
 In chorus or iambic, teachers best 
 Of moral prudence, with delight receiv'd 
 In brief sententious precepts, f 
 
 I own, I have some particular reasons for think- 
 ing that our author was not very conversant in 
 this sort of composition, having no inclination 
 
 to 
 
 * When this was written, the tragedies of Sophocles, ^Eschy- 
 lus, and Euripides, had not been translated : nor had Mr. 
 Mason published his Caractacus, nor Mr. Gray his Runic 
 Odes^ when page the 375th was written. 
 
 t Paradise Regained, b. IV. ver. 231.
 
 362 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 to the drama. In a note on tlie third book of 
 his Homer, where Helen points out to Priam, the 
 names and characters of the Grecian leaders from 
 the walls of Troy, he observes, that several great 
 poets have been engaged by the beauty of this 
 passage to an imitation of it. But who are the 
 poets he enumerates on this occasion ? Only 
 Statius and Tasso ; the former of whom, in his 
 seventh book, and the latter, in his third, shews 
 the forces, and the commanders, that invested 
 the cities of Thebes and Jerusalem.* Not a 
 syllable is mentioned of that capital scene in the 
 Phoenissse of Euripides, from the hundred and 
 twentieth to the two hundredth line, where the 
 old man, standing with Antigone on the walls of 
 
 Thebes, 
 
 * In the dedication to the Miscellanies he so much studied 
 and admired, he had read the following strange words of his 
 master Dryden, addressed to Lord Radcliffe : " Though you 
 have read the best authors in their own languages, and per- 
 fectly distinguish of their several merits, and, in general, pre- 
 fer them to the Moderns, yet 1 know you judge for the English 
 ira<rcdies against the Greek and Latin, as well as against the 
 French, Italian, and Spanish, of these latter ages. Indeed, 
 there is a vast difference betwixt arguing like Perault, in be- 
 half of the French poets against Homer and Virgil, and be- 
 twixt giving the English poets their undoubted due of excel- 
 ling iEschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles." 
 
 Miscell. III. part, Lond. 1693.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 363 
 
 Thebes, marks out to her the various figures, ha- 
 bits, armour, and qualifications, of each dif- 
 ferent warrior, in the most Hvcly and picturesque 
 manner, as they appear in the camp beneath 
 them.* 
 
 11. High on the first the mighty Homer shone; 
 Eternal adamant composM his throne; 
 Father of verse ! in holy fillets drest. 
 His silver beard wav'd gently o'er his breast; 
 Though blind., a boldness in his looks appears: 
 In years he seems, but not Inipair'd by years.f 
 
 A striking 
 
 * Among the rest, Euripides makes Antigone enquire, 
 vphich among the Avarriors is her brother Polynices : this is 
 one of those delicate and tender strokes of nature, for which 
 this feeling tragedian is so justly admired. When she dis- 
 covers him, she breaks out thus : 
 
 Uoa-iv s^xvv<7»i(ji.i ^< oiiOspos 
 npos £[/.nv oixoyevsrspx, 
 Uipi uXivxi ospx (ptXrotrtx, 
 BacXXoiiAi, yjpo'i'jj ^vyocox ixiXtoi, 
 
 She stops a little, gazes earnestly upon him, and exclaims, 
 tvith admiration at the splendor of his arms, 
 
 Cls o'nXoi(7i xpvariotcxiv tvrrpzzjvts. yzpov 
 
 'BoXais atKia, Ver. 16(5. 
 
 t Ver. 1S2.
 
 304 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 A striking and venerable portrait ! The divine 
 old man is represented here with suitable dig- 
 nity. In the Anthologia, is a description of a 
 statue of Homer, which, from its -antiquity, 
 and the minute enumeration of the features and 
 attitudes of the figure, is curious and entertain- 
 ing : 
 
 — — — ■- — TlxT'/ip VsiXOS, KTO^iOS ^US, 
 
 Jfaro 9110S OfJiripos, ny.ro /L/.ty acvopt yoriaxi 
 YvpxKsu, TO Se yspxs vov "/avkv tuto yxf avrv 
 
 12. The wars of Troy were round the pillar seen : 
 Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian queen ; 
 Here Hector, glorious from Patroclus' fall. 
 Here draggM in triumph round the Trojan wall ; 
 Motion and life did ev'ry part inspire ; 
 Bold was the work, and prov'd the master's fire.f 
 
 The Poems of Homer afford a marvellous va- 
 riety of subjects proper for history-painting. A 
 very ingenious French nobleman, the Count de 
 Caylus, has lately printed a valuable treatise, en- 
 
 tituled, 
 
 * Antholog. ad calcem Callimachi. Edit. Lond. 1711. p. 8S. 
 t Vcr. 188.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 36S 
 
 tituled, " Tableaux tir^s de L'lliade, et de 
 L'Odysse d'Homere ;" in \vhich he has exhibited 
 the whole series of events contained in these 
 poems, arranged in their proper order ; has de* 
 signed each piece, and disposed each figure, with 
 much taste and judgment. He seems justly to 
 wonder, that artists have so seldom had recourse 
 to this great storehouse of beautiful and noble 
 images, so proper for the employment of their 
 pencils, and delivered with so much force and 
 distinctness, that the painter has noticing to do, 
 but to substitute his colours for the words of 
 Homer. He complains that a Raphael, and a 
 Julio Romano, should copy the crude and un- 
 natural conceptions of Ovid's Metamorphoses, 
 and Apuleius's Ass ; and that some of their sa- 
 cred subjects were ill chosen. Among the few 
 who borrowed their subjects from Homer, he 
 mentions Couchardon with the honour he de- 
 serves ; and relates the following anecdote : 
 '' This great artist having lately read Homer in 
 an old and detestable French translation, came 
 one day to me, his eyes sparkling with fire, and 
 said, Since I have read this book, men seem to 
 
 be
 
 S66 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 be fifteen feet higli, and all nature is enlarged In 
 my sight.'"* 
 
 13. A strong expression most he seem'd t' affect. 
 And here and there disclos'd a brave neglect. 
 
 In the sublime, as in great affluence of for- 
 tune, some minute and unimportant articles will 
 unavoidably escape observation. But it is almost 
 impossible for a low and groveling genius to be 
 guilty of error, since he never endangers himself 
 by soaring on high, or aiming at eminence ; but 
 still goes on in the same quiet, uniform, secure 
 track, whilst its very height and grandeur ex- 
 poses the sublime to sudden falls. " Notwith- 
 standing which trivial blemishes, I must ever re- 
 main in the opinion, that these greater excellen- 
 cies, these bolder and nobler flights, though, 
 perhaps, not carried on every where with an 
 equality of perfection, j'ct merit the prize and 
 preference, by the sole merit of their intrinsic 
 magnificence and grandeur.*' This just and for- 
 cible sentiment of Longinus, in his 33d Section, 
 is a sufficient answer to an outrageous paradox 
 
 lateh^ 
 
 * Pag. 227.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. SGj 
 
 lately advanced by Voltaire, in direct contradic- 
 tion to his * former critical opinions ; and which 
 is here set down for the entertainment of the 
 reader: " If we would weigh, M'ithout preju- 
 dice, the Odyssey of Homer with the Orlando 
 of Ariosto, the Italian must gain the preference 
 in all respects. Both of them are chargeable 
 with the same fault, namely, an intemperance 
 and luxuriance of imagination, and a romantic 
 fondness of the marvellous. But Ariosto has 
 compensated this fault by allegories so true, by 
 touches of satire so delicate, by so profound a 
 knowledge of the human heart, by the graces of 
 the comic, which perpetually succeed the strokes 
 of the terrible, in short, by such innumerable 
 beauties of every kind, that he has found out 
 the secret of making an agreeable monster. 
 Let every reader ask himself what he would 
 think, if he should read, for the first time, the 
 
 Iliad, 
 
 * The word former is used, because it is remarkable, that 
 when Voltaire wrote his Essay on the Epic Poets, he not only 
 spoke rather contemptuously of the Italian Poets, but even 
 totally omitted Ariosto, lor which omission he was immediately 
 attacked by Rolli, the Italian translator of Milton ; and par- 
 ticularly for saying, that Tasso's chief fault was, having too 
 much of Ariosto in him.
 
 558 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Iliad, and Tasso's poem, without knowing the 
 names of their authors, and the times M^hen their 
 works were composed, and determine of them 
 irjer( ly hy the degree of pleasure they each of 
 them excited : would he not give the entire pre- 
 ference to Tasso ? Would he not find in tlie 
 Italian more conduct and oeconomy, more inte- 
 resting circumstances, more variety and exact- 
 ness, more graces and embellishments, and more 
 of tliat softness which cases, relieves, and adds a 
 lustre to, the sublime ? I question whether they 
 will even bear a comparison a few ages hence."*" 
 
 14-. A golden column next in sight appeai'd. 
 On which a shrine of purest gold is rear'd ; 
 Finish'd the whole, and labour'd ev'ry part. 
 With patient touches of unwearied art: 
 The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate, 
 Compos'd his posture, and his look sedate ; 
 On Homer still he fix'd a reverend eye ; 
 Great without pride, in modest majesty.f 
 
 n 
 
 * Collection complette des (Euvres de M. de Voltaire. 
 Tom. XIII. a Geneve, pag. 40. 
 
 t Ver. 196.
 
 And writings of pope. 369 
 
 * II sue carattere e per tutto grande, e mae- 
 stoso : e, per poterlo sempre sostenere, si trat- 
 tiene il poeta, perlo plu, sul generale, s'fiigendo, 
 a suo potere, tutte le cose minute, e particolari : 
 alle quali Omero, clie a voluto mutar corde, e 
 varior tuono, e liberamente andato all' incontro. 
 E siccome stimeremmo gran sajlo biasimare per- 
 cio Vergilio, die a saputo cose bene mantenere il 
 carattere propostosi ; cosi non possiamo non ma- 
 ravigliarci del torto, ch' ad Omero fa Giullo 
 Cesare Scaligero, da cui e riputato basso, e vile, 
 per aver voluto toccare i punti piu fini del na- 
 turale : quasiche la magnificenza fosse posta so- 
 
 lamante nello strepito delle parole -Nell' Eg- 
 
 logbe pero si prese la liberta di rappresentar cos- 
 
 voL. I. B b tumi 
 
 * Vincenzo Gravina was of Naples, had great learning, and 
 a clear head ; was an admirable civilian, as well as critic. 
 He wrote five tragedies on the model of the ancients, with 
 chorusses ; II' Palamede, L'Andromeda, L'Appio Claudio, II' 
 Papiniano, II' Servio Tullio. It is said that he missed a car- 
 dinal's hat, because of his satirical and severe turn of mind. 
 When he was at Rome, he used to bow to coach horses ; 
 " Because, (said he,) was it not for these poor beasts, these, 
 great people would have men, and even philosophers, to draw 
 their coaches." Metastasio, poet laureat to the empress queen 
 at Vienna, so famous for operas, was his disciple. Gravina 
 founds his critical opinions on the solid principles of Aristotle; 
 that is, in other word?, on nature and good sense.
 
 37^ ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 tumi alle volte tioppo civili, ed innalzo sopra la 
 semplicita pastorale lo stile, trattenendosi troppo 
 sul generale : onde quant6 nella Georgica si las- 
 ci6 addietio Esiodo, tanto nell' Eglogbe cede a 
 Teocrito, da cui raccolse i fiori : e nel poema 
 eroico, siccome riman vinto da Omero cosi e ad 
 ogn' altro superiore.* 
 
 15. Four swans sustain'd a car of silver bright, 
 
 With heads advanc'd, and pinions stretch'd for flight : 
 Here, like some furious prophet, Pindar rode. 
 And seem'd to labour with th' inspiring God. 
 Across the harp a careless hand he flings. 
 And boldly sinks into the sounding strings. f 
 
 The character of Pindar, as commonly taken, 
 seems not to be well understood. We hear of 
 nothing but the impetuosity and the sublimity 
 of his manner ; whereas he abounds in strokes 
 of domestic tenderness. We are perpetually told 
 
 of 
 
 * Gravina della Ragion poetica. In Napoli 1716. p. 308. 
 
 Pope, speaking to Mr. Spence concerning absurd compa- 
 risons, mentioned, as such, the comparing Homer with Virgil, 
 Corneille with Racine, the little ivory statue of Polyclete 
 with the Colossus. "These (he added) are magis jd«jt5 quam 
 similes." 
 
 t Ver. 210.-
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 571 
 
 of the boldness and violence of his transitions ; 
 whereas, on a close inspection, they appear easy 
 and natural, are closely connected with, and arise 
 appositely from, his subject. Even his stile has 
 been represented as swelling and bombast ; but 
 carefully examined, it will appear fiir more pure 
 and perspicuous than is generally imagined ; not 
 abounding with those harsh metaphors, and that 
 profusion of florid epithets, which some of his 
 imitators affect to use. One of * Pindar's arts, 
 in which they frequently fail who copy him, is 
 the introduction of many moral reflections. Mr. 
 Gray seems thoroughly to have studied this wri- 
 ter. Tlie following beautiful lines are closely 
 translated from the first Pythian Ode. They 
 describe the Power of music : 
 
 Oh, sovereign of the willing soul. 
 Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, 
 Enchanting shell I the sullen cares. 
 And frantic passions, hear thy soft controul. 
 
 B b 2 On 
 
 * Cui illud peculiare est (says Bacon finely) animos ho- 
 
 minum, inopinato^ sententiola aliqua mirabili, veluti Virgula 
 
 divina percuterc. 
 
 De Augmentis. Scient, Lib. 8. .
 
 37^ £SSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 On Thracia's hills the lord of war 
 Has curb'd the fury of his car. 
 And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command. 
 Perching on the sceptred hand 
 Of Jove^ thy magic lulls the feather'd king. 
 With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing : 
 Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie 
 The terror of his beak, and lightning of his eye.* 
 
 The reader will, doubtless, be pleased to sec 
 these striking images copied by another masterly 
 hand : 
 
 ■ With sldckenM wings, 
 
 - While now the solemn concert breathes around. 
 Incumbent o'er the sceptre of his lord 
 Sleeps the stern eagle ; by the number'd notes 
 Possess'd, and satiate with the melting tone j 
 Sovereign of birds. The furious God of war. 
 His darts forgetting, and the rapid wheels 
 That bear him vengeful o'er the embattled plains. 
 Relents. -}• 
 
 It is to be observed, that both these imita- 
 tors have omitted a natural circumstance, very 
 expressive of the strong feeling of the eagle ; 
 
 but 
 
 * Dodsley's Collection, vol. VI. p. 322, 
 t Ibid. to). VI. p. 13. Hymn to the Naiads, by Dr. Akenside,
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 373 
 
 but very difficult to be translated with becoming 
 
 elegance. 
 
 — — O ot uvucro'uy 
 
 fyfoy vuTov asipii, rtxts 
 PiVaKTi Kanxa^oiAtvos.* 
 
 May I venture to add, that this ode of Mr. 
 Gray ends a little unhappily ? That is, with an 
 antithesis unsuited to the dignity of such a com- 
 position : 
 
 B b 3 Beneath 
 
 * Pindar, Pytb. I. Antistroj'he i. v. 5. 
 
 This image puts me in mind of a fine stroke in Apollonius 
 Rhodius, who thus describes the effects of Medea's enchant- 
 ments on the dragon who watch'd the golden fleece : 
 
 — txvrocf oy vj^ri 
 
 Oi/jiv SeX-yo/iAEv©^, ooXi^viv xvccXvit* ockxiOxv 
 
 Lib IV. ver. 150. 
 
 Few moderns have boldness enough to enter on circum- 
 stances so MINUTELY NATURAL, and therefore highly expres- 
 sive ; they are afraid of being thought vulgar and flat. Apol- 
 lonius has more merit than is usually allowed him, and de- 
 serves more consideration among the learned : the whole be- 
 haviour and passion of Medea is movingly described. He par- 
 ticularly abounds in such lively and delicate strokes as that 
 quoted above.
 
 574f ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Beneath the Good how far, but far above the Great. 
 
 It may be also questioned, whether his other 
 ode might not have been better concluded with- 
 out mentioning the manner in which the bard 
 died. There would have been a beautiful ab- 
 ruptness in finishing with — 
 
 JBe thine despair, and sceptred care ; 
 To triumph and to die are mine. 
 
 The mind would have been left in a pleasing and 
 artful suspense, at not knowing what became of 
 so favourite a character. Lyric poetry, espe- 
 cially, should not be minutely historical. When 
 Juno had ended her speech in Horace with that 
 spirited stanza, 
 
 Ter si resurgat murus aheneus 
 Auctore Phoebo, ter pereat meis 
 Excisus Argivis, ter uxor 
 
 Capta, virum, puerosque ploret, 
 
 what follows surely weakens the conclusion of 
 this ode, and is comparatively flat : 
 
 Non
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 375 
 
 Non hzec jocosse convcniunt lyrae 
 Quo Musa tendis ?* 
 
 The inspiration, under which the poet seems to 
 have laboured, suddenly ceases, and he descends 
 into a cold and prosaic apology. f 
 
 B b 4 10. Here 
 
 * Ode III. lib. iii. ver. 69. 
 
 •}- On more closely and attentively considering the subject, I 
 am inclined to alter my opinion concerning the conclusion of 
 this fine Ode of Mr. Gray. The bard not only sustains the 
 part of a prophet, but that of an actor likewise; and is him- 
 self most closely related to the subject. For what, in truth, is 
 the subject of this poem : I mean, if we consider it in the view 
 of critical exactness ? It is not surely any, or all, of those his- 
 torical portraits, which are painted in such animated colours 
 through the piece ; but simply, the destruction of the Bards of 
 Wales ; the rage and fury of the only one that was left alive ; 
 his menaces of revenge on the authors of such cruelty; and 
 lastly, to crown all, his own dreadful fate. Imagine, then, 
 that you see this wretched old man, starting up suddenly on 
 the top of a rocky eminence, in full view of the English army; 
 wild with despair, and animated with the thoughts of ven- 
 geance ; with haggard eyes; his beard loose; and his hoary 
 hair streaming like a meteor in a dark and troubled sky. 
 At sight of the bloody chiefs, he instantly breaks out into ab- 
 rupt and furious execrations : 
 
 Ruin seize thee, ruthless king, &.c. 
 
 But
 
 376 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 16. Here happy Horace tun'd the Ausonian 13're, 
 To sweeter sounds, and teraper'd Pindar's fire : 
 Pleas'd with Alcseus' manly rage t' infuse 
 The softer spirit of the Sapphic muse.* 
 
 He might have selected ornaments more manly 
 and characteristical of Horace, than 
 
 The 
 
 But this sudden and most violent burst of anger soon gives 
 place to a softer passion. He laments the untimely deaths of 
 liis friends and brethren, in words of the most plaintive ten- 
 derness, and most compassionate regret; till, by degrees, he is 
 once more roused to thoughts of vengeance. He imagines that 
 the ghosts of the murdered bards stand present at his call. He 
 weaves, with horrid rites, the destiny of Edward; and de- 
 nounces misery and affliction on all his race. Again his mind 
 is calmed: he directs his prospect still farther into futurity ; 
 and, after soothing his despair, by a survey of happier times, 
 and more merciful princes, throws himself from the rock, with 
 a kind of sullen satisfaction, into the flood below. 
 
 This catastrophe must surely be allowed to be well adapted 
 to the subject, the person, and the scene; in a word, to ail the 
 liorrors with which the poem abounds; and is therefore not 
 only a suitable, but even a necessary catastrophe : necessary to 
 wind up, if I may so speak, the action of the piece. 
 
 I said, the horrors of the poem; because the most striking 
 graces in it are certainly of the terrible kind, and for that rea- 
 son, affect the imagination of the reader more deeply, and more 
 uresistibly. 
 
 * Ver. 222.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POFE. 377 
 
 The Doves, that round the infant poet spread 
 Myrtles and bays, hung hovering o'er his head.* 
 
 Surely his odes afford many more striking sub- 
 jects for tlie basso relievos about his statue. In 
 the present ones do we not see a littleness, or ra- 
 ther a prettiness ? 
 
 Our author alludes to the lyric part of Ho- 
 race's works. Among the various views in which 
 ]]is numerous commentators have considered his 
 odes, they have neglected to remark the drama- 
 tic turn he has given to many of them. Of this 
 sort is the excellent Prophecy of Nereus, where 
 Horace has artfully introduced the principal 
 events and heroes of the Iliad, and speaks in so 
 lively a manner of both, as to make the reader 
 present at every action intended. Of this sort 
 also is the tliird ode of the third book, in which 
 Juno is introduced, expressing herself Avith all 
 that fury and indignation against the Trojans 
 which Homer hath ascribed to her. She beoins 
 hey speech with an angry repetition of, liion^ 
 
 * Vcr. 230.
 
 578 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Iliorij and will not so much as utter the names of 
 Paris and Helen, but contemptuously calls him, 
 the incestus Judex ; and her, Mulier peregrina* 
 The character of this revengeful goddess is all 
 along supported with the same spirit and pro- 
 priety. Equal commendation is due to the 
 speech of Regulus in the fifth ode, on his pre- 
 paring to return to Carthage, which ends with 
 an exclamation so suited to the temper of that 
 inflexible hero. 
 
 — . O Pudor ! 
 
 O magna Carthago, probrosis 
 Altior Italiae ruinis ! 
 
 Nor must we forget the natural complaints of 
 Europa, when she has been carried away by the 
 bull, and the shame that arises in her bosom, on 
 her having been seduced from her father, friends, 
 and country. 
 
 Impudens liqui patrios Penates ! 
 Irapudens Orcum moror ! O deorura 
 Si quis, haec audls, utinam inter errem 
 Kuda leones.f 
 
 Immediately 
 ■* This hath been observed by the old commentator^ Acron, 
 t Ode XXVII. lib. iii.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 379 
 
 Immediately another Prosopopoeia is introduced. 
 She thinks she hears her angry father rebuking 
 her : 
 
 Yili.s Europe (pater urget absens) 
 Quid mori cessas ? &.c. 
 
 Of this dramatic species, also, is the conclu- 
 sion of the eleventh ode of the third book, where 
 one of the daughters of Danalis, who is not base 
 enough to comply with her father's commands, 
 dismisses her husband with a speech that is much 
 in character. I cannot forbear adding, that of 
 this kind, likewise, is the whole of the fifth 
 Epode, upon which I beg leave to be a little 
 particular, as I do not remember to have seen it 
 considered as it ought to be. It suddenly breaks 
 out with a beautiful and forcible abruptness : 
 
 At O Deorum quisquls in coelo regis 
 
 Terras et humanum genus. 
 Quid iste fert tumultus ? aut quid omnium 
 
 Vultus ia uuum me truces ? 
 
 It is a boy utters these words, who beholds him- 
 self surrounded by an horrible band of witches, 
 
 with
 
 380 ESSAY ON THE CENIUS 
 
 with Canidia at their head, who instantly seize 
 and strip him, in order to make a love-potion of 
 his body. He proceeds to deprecate their unde- 
 served rage by moving supplications, and such as 
 are adapted to his age and situation : 
 
 Per liberos te, si vocata partubus 
 
 Lucina veris adfuit; 
 Per hoc inane purpurae decus, precor. 
 
 Per improbaturum hsec Jovem ; 
 Quid ut noyerca, me intueris, aututi 
 
 Petita ferro bellua ? 
 
 The poet goes on to enumerate, with due so- 
 lemnity, the ingredients of the charm. Those 
 which * Shakespeare, in his Macbeth, has de- 
 scribed, as being thrown into the magical cal- 
 dron, have a near resemblance with these of Ho- 
 race : 
 
 * It is observable, that Shakespeare, on this great occasion, 
 which involves the fate of a king, multiplies all the circum- 
 stances of horror. The babe, whose finger is used in the en- 
 chantment, must be strangled in its birth : the grease must not 
 only be human, but must have dropped from a gibbet, the 
 gibbet of a murderer ; and even the sow, whose blood is used, 
 piust have offended nature by devouring her own farrow. 
 
 Johnson's Observations on Macbeth. Act. IV. Scene I. 
 1
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 381 
 
 race; but he has added others well calculated to 
 impress the deepest terror, from his own imagi- 
 nation. Canidia having placed the victim in a 
 pit where he was gradually to be starved to death, 
 begins to speak in the following awful and strik- 
 ing manner : 
 
 O Rebu.s meis 
 
 Non infideles arbitrae, 
 Nox, & Diana, qujE silentiura regis. 
 
 Arcana cum fiunt sacra ! 
 Nunc, nunc adeste ! nunc in hostiles domes 
 
 Iram atque numen vertite, &c. 
 
 But she suddenly stops, surprised to see the in- 
 cantation fail : 
 
 Quid accidit ? cur dira barbarae minus 
 
 Venena Medeae valent ? 
 
 In a few lines more, she discovers the reason that 
 lier charms are inefficacious : 
 
 Ah, ah solutus ambulat venefica?, &c. 
 
 She resolves therefore to double them : 
 
 Majus
 
 382 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 * Majus parabo : majus infundani tibi 
 Fasiidicnti poculum. 
 
 And 
 
 * Sanadon has a remark in the true spirit of a fastidious 
 French critic. *' These descriptions of witchcraft must have 
 been ver\' pleasing to ancient poets, since they dwell upon 
 them so largely and frequently. But surely such objects have 
 so much horror in them, that tht^y cannot be presented ^\ith 
 too much haste and rapidit\f to the imagination." — Such false 
 delicacy and refinement have rendered some of the French in- 
 capable of relishing many of the forcible and masculine images 
 with which the ancients strengthened their compositions. The 
 most natural strokes in a poem that most abounds with them, 
 the Odyssey, is to such judges a fund of ridicule. They must 
 needs nauseate the scenes that lie in Eumeus's cottage, and de- 
 spise the coarse ideas of so ill-bred a princess as Nausicaa. 
 Much less can such effeminate judges bear the bold and severe 
 strokes, the terrible graces, of our irregular Shakespeare, espe- 
 ciallv in his scenes of magic and incantations. T hest gothic 
 charms are, in truth, more striking to the imagination than the 
 classical. The magicians of Ariosto, Tasso, and Spenser, have 
 more powerful spells than those of Apollonms, Seneca, and 
 Lucan. The inchanted forest of Ismeno is more awfully and 
 tremendously poetical, than even the Grove which Caesar or- 
 ders to be cut down in Lucan, 1. iii. 400, which was so full of 
 terrors, that, at noon day or midnight, the Priest himself dared 
 not approach it. 
 
 Dreading the Da?mon of the Grove to meet! 
 
 AVho, that sees the sahle piames waving on the prodigious hel- 
 met in the Castle of Otranto, and the gigantic arm on the top 
 
 of
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPb. S83 
 
 •And concludes with this spirited threat t 
 
 Priusque coelum sidet infcrius mari 
 
 Tellure porrecta super, 
 Quam non amore sic meo flagres, utt 
 
 Eituraen atris ignibus. 
 
 The boy, on hearing his fate cruelly determined, 
 no longer endeavours to sue for mercy, but 
 breaks out into those bitter and natural execra- 
 tions, mixed with a tender mention of his pa- 
 rents, which reach to the end of the Ode. If 
 we consider how naturally the fear of the boy is 
 expressed in the first speech, and how the dread- 
 ful character of Canidia is supported in the se- 
 cond, and the various turns of passion with 
 which she is agitated, and if we add to these 
 the concluding imprecations, we must own that 
 
 this 
 
 of the great siaircuse, is not more affected than with the paint- 
 ings of Ovid and Apuleius ? What a group of dreadful images 
 do we meet with in the Edda ! The Runic poetry abounds in 
 them. Such is Gray's thrilling Ode on the Descent of Odin. 
 'Tis remarkable, that the idea of the Fatal Sisters weaving the 
 • Danish standard, bears a marvellous resemblance to a passage in 
 Sophocles, Ajax, v. 1053. " Did not Erinnys herself make 
 this sword? and Plulp, that dreadful workman, this belt?
 
 384 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 this ode affords a noble specimen of the dramatic 
 powers of Horace. 
 
 17. Here in a shrine, that cast a dazzling light. 
 Sate, fix'd in thought, the mighty Stagyrite ; 
 His sacred head a radiant zodiac crown'd. 
 And various animals his sides surround; 
 His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view 
 Superior worlds, and look all Nature through.* 
 
 It may not be unpleasing to observe the artfuf 
 manner with which Addison has introduced each 
 of his worthies at the Tables of Fame, and how 
 nicely he has adapted the behaviour of eacli per- 
 son to his character. Addison had great skill in 
 the use of delicate and oblique allusions. — " It 
 was expected that Plato M'ould have taken a place 
 next his master Socrates ; but on a sudden there 
 was heard a great clamour of disputants at the 
 door, who appeared with Aristotle at the head of 
 them. That philosopher, with some rudeness, 
 but great strength of reason, convinced the" 
 whole table, that a fifth place at the table was his 
 due, and took it accordingly." Thus in another 
 passage : — " Julius Ga;sar was now coming for- 
 ward ;; 
 
 * Ver 232.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE, 585 
 
 ward ; and tliougii most of the historians offered 
 their service to introduce him, he left them at 
 the door, and would have no conductor but him- 
 self."* — In the same spirit he tells us, That Q. 
 Curtius intended to conduct Alexander the Great 
 to an apartment appointed for the reception of 
 i^ibulous heroes ; that Virgil hung back at the 
 entrance of the door, and would have excused 
 liimself, had not his modesty been overcome by 
 the invitation of all who sate at the table; that 
 Lucan entered at the head of many historians 
 with Pompey, and that seeing Homer and Virgil 
 at the table, was going to sit down himself, had 
 not the latter whispered him, he had forfeited 
 his claim to it, by coming in as one of the histo- 
 rians. 
 
 18. With equal rays immortal Tully shone. 
 
 The Roman rostra deck'd the Consul's throne : 
 Gath'ring his flowing robe, he seem'd to stand. 
 In act to speak, and graceful stretch'd his hand.f 
 
 VOL. I. C c This 
 
 * Tatler, No. 81, ut sup. 
 
 f " After hearing an oration of Tully, " How finely and 
 eloquent!}' has he expressed himself," said the Romans. After 
 Demosthenes had spoke, " Let us rise, and march against Phi- 
 lip," said the Athenians." Fenelon.
 
 386 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 This beautiful attitude is copied from a statue 
 in that valuable collection, which Lady Pomfret 
 had the goodness and generosity lately to present 
 to the University of Oxford. — Cicero, says Ad- 
 dison, next appeared, and took his place. He 
 had enquired at the door for one Lucceius to in- 
 troduce him ; but not finding him there, he con- 
 tented himself with the attendance of many other 
 writers, who all, except Sallust, appeared highly 
 pleased with the office. 
 
 I cannot forbear taking occasion to mention 
 an ingenious imitation of this paper of Addison, 
 called the Table of Modern Fame, at which the 
 guests are introduced, and ranged with that taste 
 and judgment M'hich is peculiar to the author.* 
 It may not be unentertaining to enumerate the 
 persons in the order he has placed them, by 
 which his sense of their merits will appear. Co- 
 lumbus, Peter the Great, Leo X. Martin Luther, 
 Newton, Descartes, Lewis XIV. William the First 
 Prince of Orange, Edward the Black Prince, 
 Francis I. Charles V. Locke, Galileo, John Faust, 
 
 Harvey^ 
 
 * Dr. Akenside. Dodsley's Musaeum, Tso. 1 5.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 387 
 
 Harvey, Machiavel, Tasso, Ariosto, Pope, Boi- 
 leau, Bacon,* Milton,! Cervantes, Moliere. 
 
 19. When on the Goddess first I cast my sight. 
 Scarce seem'd her stature of a cubit's height; 
 But sweird to larger height the more I gaz'd. 
 Till to the roof her tow'ring front she rais'd.J 
 
 This figure of Fame enlarging and growing every 
 moment, which is copied from Virgil, is imagined 
 with strength and sublimity of fancy. 
 
 C c 2 Parva 
 
 * " The assembly with one accord invited Bacon forward ; 
 the Goddess beckoned him to draw near, and seated hira on 
 the highest throne/' Musaeum, No. 13. 
 
 + " I was extremely discontented that no more honourable 
 place had been reserved for Milton. You forget (says my 
 conductor) that the lowest place in this assembly is one of 
 twenty, the most honourable gifts which Fame has to bestow 
 among the whole human species. Milton is now admitted for 
 the first time, and was not but with difficulty admitted at all. 
 But have patience a few years longer ; he will be continually 
 ascending in the goddess's favour, and may perhaps at last ob- 
 tain the highest, or at least the second place in these her so- 
 lemnities. In the mean time, see how he is received by the 
 man who is best qualified here to judge of his dignity." I 
 looked at him again, and saw Raphael making him the most 
 affectionate congratulations." Musaeum, No. 13. 
 
 JVer. 258.
 
 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Parva metu primo, raox sese attollit in auras, 
 Ingrediturque solo, et caput inter nubila condit.* 
 
 There is another figure of this sort in the Geor- 
 gics of Virgil, as nohly conceived. Instead of 
 saying that the pestilence among the cattle en- 
 creased daily, what an exalted image has he given 
 us ! 
 
 Saevit et in lucem Stygiis emissa tenebris 
 Pallida Tysiphone. Morbos agit ante METUiviauE. 
 Inque dies avidum surgens caput altius effert. 
 
 The sybil in the sixth ^Eneid is likewise repre- 
 sented as spreading to sight, and growing larger 
 and larger as the inspiration came upon her: 
 
 — Subito non vultus, non color unus, 
 
 TSon comptse mansere comae ; sed pectus anhelum, 
 Et rabie fera cordatument; majorque videri. 
 Nee mortale sonans.f 
 
 We have still a fourth instance of Virgil's imagi- 
 nation, in the spirited picture he has drawn of 
 the Fury who appears to Turnus in the seventh 
 
 Mneid. 
 
 * Book IV. ver. 170. f "Vcr. 47.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 389 
 
 yEneid.* Turnus, at first, suitably to his clia- 
 racter, treats her as an impertinent old priestess, 
 whose habit she had indeed borrowed. Upon 
 which she instantly kindles into rage, assumes 
 her own horrid shape in a moment, the serpents 
 hiss around her head, and her countenance 
 spreads forth in all its terrors : 
 
 At juveui oranti subitus tremor occupat artus; 
 Diriguere oculi ; tot Erinnys sibilat bydris, 
 Tantaque se facies aperit. 
 
 In no part of Virgil's writings is there more true 
 spirit and sublimity, than in this interview be- 
 tween Turnus and the Fury, both whose cha- 
 racters are strongly supported. But to return to 
 Fame. Virgil has represented her as a dreadful 
 and gigantic monster, in which conception, 
 though he might have been assisted by the Dis- 
 cord of Homer, yet his figure is admirably de- 
 signed to impress terror. She has innumerable 
 tongues, mouths, eyes and ears ; the sound of 
 her wings is heard at the dead of night, as she 
 flies through the middle of the air ; 
 
 Nocte 
 
 * Vcr. U6.
 
 590 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 Nocte volat cceli medioj terraeque per umbram 
 Stridens. 
 
 In the day-time she sits watchful on battlements, 
 and on the highest to^vers, and terrifies great 
 cities, Avho gaze at her huge and formidable ap- 
 pearance : 
 
 Luce sedet custoSj aut surami culmine tectf, 
 Turribus aut altisj et magnas territat urbes. 
 
 It did not suit Pope's purpose to represent 
 Fame as so odious a monster. He has therefore 
 dropped these striking circumstances in Virgil, 
 and softened her features : 
 
 20. With her the Temple ev'ry moment grew. 
 And ampler vistas opened to my view : 
 Upwards the columns shoot, the roofs ascend. 
 And arches widen, and long iles extend.* 
 
 Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 
 Rose like an exhalation^ with the sound 
 Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet. 
 Built like a temple, where pilasters round 
 Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid 
 With golden architrave. f 
 
 This 
 
 * Ver. 262. f Par. Lost, b. i. ver. 7]0.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 3^1 
 
 This circumstance of the temple's Enlarging 
 with the growing figure of the goddess, is Hvely, 
 and well imagined. The reader feels a pleasure 
 in having his eye carried through a length of 
 building, almost to an immensity. Extension is 
 certainly a cause of the sublime. In this view 
 the following passage of Thomson may be con- 
 sidered, where he speaks of a lazar-house in his 
 Castle of Indolence :* 
 
 Through the drear caverns stretching many a mile. 
 
 The sick uprear'd their heads, and dropp'd their woes awhile. 
 
 21. Next these a youthful train their vows express'd. 
 With feathers crown'd, and gay embroid'ry dress'd ; 
 Hither (they cry'd) direct your eyes, and see 
 The men of pleasure, dress, and gallantry ; 
 Ours is the place at banquets, balls, and plays ; 
 Sprightly our nights, polite are all our days : « 
 
 Of unknown duchesses lewd tales we tell ; 
 Yet, would the world believe us, all were, wcil f 
 
 Strokes of pleasantry and humour, and satiri- 
 cal reflections on the foibles of common life, are 
 surely too famihar, and unsuited to so grave and 
 majestic a poem as this hitherto has appeared to 
 
 be. 
 
 * Stanza Ixix. c, 2, t Ver. 37 ».
 
 592 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 be. Such incongruities offend propriety ; thoug*li 
 I know ingenious persons have endeavoured to 
 excuse tlicm, by saying, that they add a variety 
 of imagery to the piece. This practice is even 
 defended by a passage in Horace : 
 
 Et sermone opus est modo tristi, sa?pe jocoso, 
 Defendeute vicem modo rhetoris atque poctae, 
 Interdum urbani, parcentis viribus, atqUe 
 Extenuantis eas consulto.-^ 
 
 But this judicious remark is, I apprehend, con- 
 fined to ethic and preceptive kinds of writing, 
 which stand in need of being enlivened with 
 lighter images, and sportive thoughts ; and where 
 strictures on common fife may more gracefully 
 be inserted. But in the higher kinds of poesy, 
 they appear as unnatural, and out of place, as one 
 of the burlesque scenes of Heemskirk would do 
 in a solemn landscape of Poussin. When I see 
 such a line as 
 
 " And at each blast a lady's honour dies/' 
 
 in the Temple of Fame, I lament as much to 
 
 find it placed there, as to see shops, and sheds, 
 
 1 and
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPE. 293 
 
 and cottages, erected among the ruins of Diocle- 
 sian's Baths. 
 
 On the revival of hterature, the first MTiters 
 seemed not to have observed any selection in 
 their thoughts and images. Dante, Petrarch, 
 Boccace, Ariosto, make very sudden transitions 
 from the subHme to the ridiculous. Chaucer, in 
 his Temple of Mars, among many pathetic pic- 
 tures, has brought in a strange line, 
 
 The coke is scalded for all his long ladell.* 
 
 No writer has more religiously observed the de- 
 corum here recommended than Virgil. 
 
 22. This having heard and seen, some pow'r unknown. 
 
 Strait chang'd the scene, and snatch'd me from the throne; 
 Before my view appear'd a structure fair. 
 Its site uncertain, if in earth or air.f 
 
 The scene here changes from the Temple of 
 
 Fame to that of Rumour. Such a change is not 
 
 VOL. I. D d methinks 
 
 * Thus again ; " As ^sop's dogs contending for a 
 
 bone ;" and many others. 
 
 t Ver. 417.
 
 39^ ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 methinks judicious, as it destroys the unity of 
 the subject, and distracts the view of the reader; 
 not to mention, that the difference between Ru- 
 mour and Fame is not sufficiently distinct and 
 perceptible. Pope has, however, the merit of 
 compressing the sense of a great number of Chau- 
 cer's lines into a small compass. As Chaucer 
 takes every opportunity of satyrizing the follies 
 of his age, he has in this part introduced many 
 circumstances, which it M^as prudent in Pope to 
 omit, as they would not have been either relished 
 or understood in the present times. 
 
 23. While thus I stood intent to see and hear. 
 
 One came, methought, and whisper'd in my ear. 
 What could thus high thy rash ambition raise ? 
 Art thou, fond youth, a candidate for praise ? 
 'Tis true, (said I,) not void of hopes I came. 
 For who so fond as youthful bards, of Fame ?* 
 
 This conclusion is not copied from Chaucer, 
 and is judicious. Chaucer has finished his story 
 inartificially, by saying he was surprised at the 
 sight of a man of great authority, and awoke in 
 a fright. The succeeding lines give a pleasing 
 
 moral 
 
 * Ver. 496.
 
 AND WRITINGS OF POPli. 395 
 
 moral to the allegory ; and the two last shew the 
 man of honour and virtue, as well as the poet : 
 
 Unblemish'd let me live, or tlie unknown : 
 Oh grant an honest fame, or grant me none ! 
 
 In finishing this Section, we may observe, 
 that Pope's alterations of Chaucer are intro- 
 duced with judgment and art ; that these altera- 
 tions are more in number, and more important 
 in conduct, than any Dryden has made of the 
 same author. This piece was communicated to 
 Steele, who entertained a high opinion of its 
 beauties, and who conveyed it to Addison. Pope 
 had ornamented the poem with the machinery of 
 guardian angels, which he afterwards omitted. 
 He speaks of his work with a diffidence uncom- 
 mon in a young poet, and which does him cre- 
 dit.* " No errors (says he to Steele) are so 
 trivial, but they deserve to be mended. I could 
 point to you several ; but it is my business to be 
 informed of those faults I do not know ; and as 
 for those I do, not to talk of them, but mend 
 them. I am afraid of nothing so much, as to 
 
 impose 
 
 * Vol. VII. Letters, 8 to. p. 248,
 
 5g6 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS 
 
 impose any thing upon the world which is un- 
 worthy its acceptance." 
 
 It would have been matter of curiosity to have 
 known Addison's sentiments of this vision.* His 
 own is introduced, and carried on, with that 
 vein of propriety and poetry, for which this 
 species of his writings is so justly celebrated, 
 and which contribute to place him at the head 
 of allegorical writers, scarce excepting Plato 
 himself. 
 
 * See Tatler, No. 81, referred to above. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Priotcd by Thomas Maideri) sherbourn^Lane.
 
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