the reign of William III, a Dutchman. Pope, as a Tory and a Catholic, hated the memory of William, and here asserts, rather unfairly, that his age was marked by an increase of heresy and infidelity.
‘545 Socinus’:
the name of two famous heretics, uncle and nephew, of the sixteenth century, who denied the divinity of Christ.
‘549’
Pope insinuates here that the clergy under William III hated an absolute monarch so much that they even encouraged their hearers to question the absolute power of God.
‘551 admir’d:’
see note l. 391.
‘552 Wit’s Titans:’
wits who defied heaven as the old Titans did the gods. The reference is to a group of freethinkers who came into prominence in King William’s reign.
‘556 scandalously nice:’
so over-particular as to find cause for scandal where none exists.
‘557 mistake an author into vice:’
mistakenly read into an author vicious ideas which are not really to be found in his work.
‘575’
Things that men really do not know must be brought forward modestly as if they had only been forgotten for a time.
‘577 That only:’
good-breeding alone.
‘585 Appius:’
a nickname for John Dennis, taken from his tragedy, ‘Appius and Virginia’, which appeared two years before the ‘Essay on Criticism’. Lines 585-587 hit off some of the personal characteristics of this hot-tempered critic. “Tremendous” was a favorite word with Dennis.
‘588 tax:’
blame, find fault with.
‘591’
In Pope’s time noblemen could take degrees at the English universities without passing the regular examinations.
‘617’
Dryden’s ‘Fables’ published in 1700 represented the very best narrative poetry of the greatest poet of his day. D’Urfey’s ‘Tales’, on the other hand, published in 1704 and 1706, were collections of dull and obscene doggerel by a wretched poet.
‘618 With him:’
according to “the bookful blockhead.”
‘619 Garth:’
a well-known doctor of the day, who wrote a much admired mock-heroic poem called ‘The Dispensary’. His enemies asserted that he was not really the author of the poem.
‘623’
Such foolish critics are just as ready to pour out their opinions on a man in St. Paul’s cathedral as in the bookseller’s shops in the square around the church, which is called St. Paul’s churchyard.
‘632 proud to know:’
proud of his knowledge.
‘636 humanly:’
an old form for “humanely.”
‘642 love to praise:’
a love of praising men.
‘648 Mæonian Star:’
Homer. Mæonia, or Lydia, was a district in Asia which was said to have been the birthplace of Homer.
‘652 conquered Nature:’
Aristotle was a master of all the knowledge of nature extant in his day.
‘653 Horace:’
the famous Latin poet whose ‘Ars Poetica’ was one of Pope’s models for the ‘Essay on Criticism’.
‘662 fle’me:’
phlegm, according to old ideas of physiology, one of the four “humours” or fluids which composed the body. Where it abounded it made men dull and heavy, or as we still say “phlegmatic.”
‘663-664’
A rather confused couplet. It means, “Horace suffers as much by the misquotations critics make from his work as by the bad translations that wits make of them.”
‘665 Dionysius:’
Dionysius of Halicarnassus, a famous Greek critic. Pope’s manner of reference to him seems to show that he had never read his works.
‘667 Petronius:’
a courtier and man of letters of the time of Nero. Only a few lines of his remaining work contain any criticism.
‘669 Quintilian’s work:’
the ‘Institutiones Oratoriæ’ of Quintilianus, a famous Latin critic of the first century A.D.
‘675 Longinus:’
a Greek critic of the third century A.D., who composed a famous work called ‘A Treatise on the Sublime’. It is a work showing high imagination as well as careful reasoning, and hence Pope speaks of the author as inspired by the Nine, ‘i.e.’ the Muses.
‘692’
The willful hatred of the monks for the works of classical antiquity tended to complete that destruction of old books which the Goths began when they sacked the Roman cities. Many ancient writings were erased, for example, in order to get parchment for monkish chronicles and commentaries.
‘693 Erasmus:’
perhaps the greatest scholar of the Renaissance. Pope calls him the “glory of the priesthood” on account of his being a monk of such extraordinary learning, and “the shame” of his order, because he was so abused by monks in his lifetime. Is this a good antithesis?
‘697 Leo’s golden days:’
the pontificate of Leo X (1513-1521). Leo himself was a generous patron of art and learning. He paid particular attention to sacred music (l. 703), and engaged Raphael to decorate the Vatican with frescoes. Vida (l. 704) was an Italian poet of his time, who became famous by the excellence of his Latin verse. One of his poems was on the art of poetry, and it is to this that Pope refers in l. 706.
‘707-708’
Cremona was the birthplace of Vida; Mantua, of Virgil.
‘709’
The allusion is to the sack of Rome by the Constable Bourbon’s army in 1527. This marked the end of the golden age of arts in Italy.
‘714 Boileau:’
a French poet and critic (1636-1711). His ‘L’Art Poetique’ is founded on Horace’s ‘Ars Poetica’.
‘723 the Muse:’
‘i.e.’ the genius, of John Sheffield (1649-1720), Duke of Buckingham (not to be confounded with Dryden’s enemy). Line 724 is quoted from his ‘Essay on Poetry’.
‘725 Roscommon:’
Wentworth Dillon (1633-1684), Earl of Roscommon, author of a translation of the ‘Ars Poetica’ and of ‘An Essay on Translated Verse’.
‘729 Walsh:’
a commonplace poet (1663-1708), but apparently a good critic. Dryden, in fact, called him the best critic in the nation. He was an early friend and judicious adviser of Pope himself, who showed him much of his early work, including the first draft of this very poem. Pope was sincerely attached to him, and this tribute to his dead friend is marked by deep and genuine feeling.
‘738 short excursions:’
such as this ‘Essay on Criticism’ instead of longer and more ambitious poems which Pope planned and in part executed in his boyhood. There is no reason to believe with Mr. Elwin that this passage proves that Pope formed the design of the poem after the death of Walsh.
* * * * *
AN ESSAY ON MAN
INTRODUCTION
The ‘Essay on Man’ is the longest and in some ways the most important work of the third period of Pope’s career. It corresponds closely to his early work, the ‘Essay on Criticism’. Like the earlier work, the ‘Essay on Man’ is a didactic poem, written primarily to diffuse and popularize certain ideas of the poet. As in the earlier work these ideas are by no means original with Pope, but were the common property of a school of thinkers in his day. As in the ‘Essay on Criticism’, Pope here attempts to show that these ideas have their origin in nature and are consistent with the common sense of man. And finally the merit of the later work, even more than of the earlier, is due to the force and brilliancy of detached passages rather than to any coherent, consistent, and well-balanced system which it presents.
The close of the seventeenth century and beginning of the eighteenth was marked by a change of ground in the sphere of religious controversy. The old debates between the Catholic and Protestant churches gradually died out as these two branches of Western Christianity settled down in quiet possession of the territory they still occupy. In their place arose a vigorous controversy on the first principles of religion in general, on the nature of God, the origin of evil, the place of man in the universe, and the respective merits of optimism and pessimism as philosophic theories. The controversialists as a rule either rejected or neglected the dogmas of revealed religion and based their arguments upon real or supposed facts of history, physical nature, and the mental processes and moral characteristics of man. In this controversy the two parties at times were curiously mingled. Orthodox clergymen used arguments which justified a strong suspicion of their orthodoxy; and avowed freethinkers bitterly disclaimed the imputation of atheism and wrote in terms that might be easily adopted by a devout believer.
Into this controversy Pope was led by his deepening intimacy with Bolingbroke, who had returned from France in 1725 and settled at his country place within a few miles of Twickenham. During his long exile Bolingbroke had amused himself with the study of moral philosophy and natural religion, and in his frequent intercourse with Pope he poured out his new-found opinions with all the fluency, vigor, and polish which made him so famous among the orators and talkers of the day. Bolingbroke’s views were for that time distinctly heterodox, and, if logically developed, led to complete agnosticism. But he seems to have avoided a complete statement of his ideas to Pope, possibly for fear of shocking or frightening the sensitive little poet who still remained a professed Catholic. Pope, however, was very far from being a strict Catholic, and indeed prided himself on the breadth and liberality of his opinions. He was, therefore, at once fascinated and stimulated by the eloquent conversation of Bolingbroke, and resolved to write a philosophical poem in which to embody the ideas they held in common. Bolingbroke approved of the idea, and went so far as to furnish the poet with seven or eight sheets of notes “to direct the plan in general and to supply matter for particular epistles.” Lord Bathurst, who knew both Pope and Bolingbroke, went so far as to say in later years that the ‘Essay’ was originally composed by Bolingbroke in prose and that Pope only put it into verse. But this is undoubtedly an exaggeration of what Pope himself frankly acknowledged, that the poem was composed under the influence of Bolingbroke, that in the main it reflected his opinions, and that Bolingbroke had assisted him in the general plan and in numerous details. Very properly, therefore, the poem is addressed to Bolingbroke and begins and closes with a direct address to the poet’s “guide, philosopher, and friend.”
In substance the ‘Essay on Man’ is a discussion of the moral order of the world. Its purpose is “to vindicate the ways of God to man,” and it may therefore be regarded as an attempt to confute the skeptics who argued from the existence of evil in the world and the wretchedness of man’s existence to the impossibility of belief in an all-good and all-wise God. It attempts to do this, not by an appeal to revelation or the doctrines of Christianity, but simply on the basis of a common-sense interpretation of the facts of existence.
A brief outline of the poem will show the general tenor of Pope’s argument.
The first epistle deals with the nature and state of man with respect to the universe. It insists on the limitations of man’s knowledge, and the consequent absurdity of his presuming to murmur against God. It teaches that the universe was not made for man, but that man with all his apparent imperfections is exactly fitted to the place which he occupies in the universe. In the physical universe all things work together for good, although certain aspects of nature seem evil to man, and likewise in the moral universe all things, even man’s passions and crimes conduce to the general good of the whole. Finally it urges calm submission and acquiescence in what is hard to understand, since “one truth is clear,–whatever is, is right.”
The second epistle deals with the nature of man as an individual. It begins by urging men to abandon vain questionings of God’s providence and to take up the consideration of their own natures, for “the proper study of mankind is man.” Pope points out that the two cardinal principles of man’s nature are self-love and reason, the first an impelling, the second a regulating power. The aim of both these principles is pleasure, by which Pope means happiness, which he takes for the highest good. Each man is dominated by a master passion, and it is the proper function of reason to control this passion for good and to make it bear fruit in virtue. No man is wholly virtuous or vicious, and Heaven uses the mingled qualities of men to bind them together in mutual interdependence, and makes the various passions and imperfections of mankind serve the general good. And the final conclusion is that “though man’s a fool, yet God is wise.”
The third epistle treats of the nature of man with respect to society. All creatures, Pope asserts, are bound together and live not for themselves alone, but man is preeminently a social being. The first state of man was the state of nature when he lived in innocent ignorance with his fellow-creatures. Obeying the voice of nature, man learned to copy and improve upon the instincts of the animals, to build, to plow, to spin, to unite in societies like those of ants and bees. The first form of government was patriarchal; then monarchies arose in which virtue, “in arms or arts,” made one man ruler over many. In either case the origin of true government as of true religion was love. Gradually force crept in and uniting with superstition gave rise to tyranny and false religions. Poets and patriots, however, restored the ancient faith and taught power’s due use by showing the necessity of harmony in the state. Pope concludes by asserting the folly of contention for forms of government or modes of faith. The common end of government as of religion is the general good. It may be noticed in passing that Pope’s account of the evolution of society bears even less relation to historical facts than does his account of the development of literature in the ‘Essay on Criticism.’
The last epistle discusses the nature of happiness, “our being’s end and aim.” Happiness is attainable by all men who think right and mean well. It consists not in individual, but in mutual pleasure. It does not consist in external things, mere gifts of fortune, but in health, peace, and competence. Virtuous men are, indeed, subject to calamities of nature; but God cannot be expected to suspend the operation of general laws to spare the virtuous. Objectors who would construct a system in which all virtuous men are blest, are challenged to define the virtuous and to specify what is meant by blessings. Honors, nobility, fame, superior talents, often merely serve to make their possessors unhappy. Virtue alone is happiness, and virtue consists in a recognition of the laws of Providence, and in love for one’s fellow-man.
Even this brief outline will show, I think, some of the inconsistencies and omissions of Pope’s train of thought. A careful examination of his arguments in detail would be wholly out of place here. The reader who wishes to pursue the subject further may consult Warburton’s elaborate vindication of Pope’s argument, and Elwin’s equally prosy refutation, or better still the admirable summary by Leslie Stephen in the chapter on this poem in his life of Pope (‘English Men of Letters’). No one is now likely to turn to the writer of the early eighteenth century for a system of the universe, least of all to a writer so incapable of exact or systematic thinking as Alexander Pope. If the ‘Essay on Man’ has any claim to be read to-day, it must be as a piece of literature pure and simple. For philosophy and poetry combined, Browning and Tennyson lie nearer to our age and mode of thought than Pope.
Even regarded as a piece of literature the ‘Essay on Man’ cannot, I think, claim the highest place among Pope’s works. It obtained, indeed, a success at home and abroad such as was achieved by no other English poem until the appearance of ‘Childe Harold’. It was translated into French, German, Italian, Portuguese, Polish, and Latin. It was imitated by Wieland, praised by Voltaire, and quoted by Kant. But this success was due in part to the accuracy with which it reflected ideas which were the common property of its age, in part to the extraordinary vigor and finish of its epigrams, which made it one of the most quotable of English poems. But as a whole the Essay is not a great poem. The poet is evidently struggling with a subject that is too weighty for him, and at times he staggers and sinks beneath his burden. The second and third books in particular are, it must be confessed, with the exception of one or two fine outbursts, little better than dull, and dullness is not a quality one is accustomed to associate with Pope. The ‘Essay on Man’ lacks the bright humor and imaginative artistry of ‘The Rape of the Lock,’ and the lively portraiture, vigorous satire, and strong personal note of the ‘Moral Epistles’ and ‘Imitations of Horace’. Pope is at his best when he is dealing with a concrete world of men and women as they lived and moved in the London of his day; he is at his worst when he is attempting to seize and render abstract ideas.
Yet the ‘Essay on Man’ is a very remarkable work. In the first place, it shows Pope’s wonderful power of expression. No one can read the poem for the first time without meeting on page after page phrases and epigrams which have become part of the common currency of our language. Pope’s “precision and firmness of touch,” to quote the apt statement of Leslie Stephen, “enables him to get the greatest possible meaning into a narrow compass. He uses only one epithet, but it is the right one.” Even when the thought is commonplace enough, the felicity of the expression gives it a new and effective force. And there are whole passages where Pope rises high above the mere coining of epigrams. As I have tried to show in my notes he composed by separate paragraphs, and when he chances upon a topic that appeals to his imagination or touches his heart, we get an outburst of poetry that shines in splendid contrast to the prosaic plainness of its surroundings. Such, for example, are the noble verses that tell of the immanence of God in his creation at the close of the first epistle, or the magnificent invective against tyranny and superstition in the third (ll. 241-268).
Finally the ‘Essay on Man’ is of interest in what it tells us of Pope himself. Mr. Elwin’s idea that in the ‘Essay on Man’ Pope, “partly the dupe, partly the accomplice of Bolingbroke,” was attempting craftily to undermine the foundations of religion, is a notion curiously compounded of critical blindness and theological rancor. In spite of all its incoherencies and futilities the ‘Essay’ is an honest attempt to express Pope’s opinions, borrowed in part, of course, from his admired friend, but in part the current notions of his age, on some of the greatest questions that have perplexed the mind of man. And Pope’s attitude toward the questions is that of the best minds of his day, at once religious, independent, and sincere. He acknowledges the omnipotence and benevolence of God, confesses the limitations and imperfections of human knowledge, teaches humility in the presence of unanswerable problems, urges submission to Divine Providence, extols virtue as the true source of happiness, and love of man as an essential of virtue. If we study the ‘Essay on Man’ as the reasoned argument of a philosopher, we shall turn from it with something like contempt; if we read it as the expression of a poet’s sentiments, we shall, I think, leave it with an admiration warmer than before for a character that has been so much abused and so little understood as that of Pope.
THE DESIGN
‘2 Bacon’s expression:’
in the dedication of his ‘Essays’ (1625) to Buckingham, Bacon speaks of them as the most popular of his writings, “for that, as it seems, they come home to men’s business and bosoms.”
’11 anatomy:’ dissection.
EPISTLE I
‘1 St. John:’
Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke, Pope’s “guide, philosopher, and friend,” under whose influence the ‘Essay on Man’ was composed.
‘5 expatiate:’
range, wander.
‘6’
Pope says that this line alludes to the subject of this first Epistle, “the state of man here and hereafter, disposed by Providence, though to him unknown.” The next two lines allude to the main topics of the three remaining epistles, “the constitution of the human mind … the temptations of misapplied self-love, and the wrong pursuits of power, pleasure, and false happiness.”
‘9 beat … field:’
the metaphor is drawn from hunting. Note how it is elaborated in the following lines.
’12 blindly creep … sightless soar:’
the first are the ignorant and indifferent; those who “sightless soar” are the presumptuous who reason blindly about things too high for human knowledge.
’15 candid:’
lenient, free from harsh judgments.
’16’
An adaptation of a well-known line of Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’, l, 26.
’17-23′
Pope lays down as the basis of his system that all argument about man or God must be based upon what we know of man’s present life, and of God’s workings in this world of ours.
’29 this frame:’
the universe. Compare ‘Hamlet’, II, ii, 310, “this goodly frame, the earth.”
’30 nice dependencies:’
subtle inter-relations.
’31 Gradations just:’
exact shades of difference.
’32 a part:’
the mind of man, which is but a part of the whole universe.
’33 the great chain:’
according to Homer, Jove, the supreme God, sustained the whole creation by a golden chain. Milton also makes use of this idea of the visible universe as linked to heaven in a golden chain, ‘Paradise Lost’, II, 1004-1006, and 1051-1052.
’41 yonder argent fields:’
the sky spangled with silvery stars. The phrase is borrowed from Milton, ‘Paradise Lost’, III, 460.
’42 Jove:’
the planet Jupiter.
‘satellites:’
Pope preserves here the Latin pronunciation, four syllables, with the accent on the antepenult.
’43-50.’
Pope here takes it for granted that our universe, inasmuch as it is the work of God’s infinite wisdom, must be the best system possible. If this be granted, he says, it is plain that man must have a place somewhere in this system, and the only question is whether “God has placed him wrong.”
’45’
Every grade in creation must be complete, so as to join with that which is beneath and with that which is above it or there would be a lack of coherency, a break, somewhere in the system.
’47 reas’ning life:’
conscious mental life.
’51-60′
Pope argues here that since man is a part of the best possible system, whatever seems wrong in him must be right when considered in relation to the whole order of the universe. It is only our ignorance of this order which keeps us from realizing this fact.
’55 one single:’
the word “movement” is understood after “single.”
’61-68′
Pope here illustrates his preceding argument by analogy. We can know no more of God’s purpose in the ordering of our lives than the animals can know of our ordering of theirs.
’64 Ægypt’s God:’
One of the gods of the Egyptians was the sacred bull, Apis.
’68 a deity:’
worshiped as a god, like the Egyptian kings and Roman emperors.
’69-76′
Pope now goes on to argue that on the basis of what has been proved we ought not to regard man as an imperfect being, but rather as one who is perfectly adapted to his place in the universe. His knowledge, for example, is measured by the brief time he has to live and the brief space he can survey.
’69 fault:’
pronounced in Pope’s day as rhyming with “ought.”
’73-76′
These lines are really out of place. They first appeared after l. 98; then Pope struck them out altogether. Just before his death he put them into their present place on the advice of Warburton, who probably approved of them because of their reference to a future state of bliss. It is plain that they interfere with the regular argument of the poem.
’79’
This line is grammatically dependent upon “hides,” l. 77.
’81 riot:’
used here in the sense of “luxurious life.” The lamb is slain to provide for some feast.
’86 Heav’n:’
‘i.e.’ God. Hence the relative “who” in the next line.
’92-98′
Pope urges man to comfort himself with hope, seeing that he cannot know the future.
’93 “What future bliss:”
the words “shall be” are to be understood after this phrase.
’96’
Point out the exact meaning of this familiar line.
’97 from home:’
away from its true home, the life to come. This line represents one of the alterations which Warburton induced Pope to make. The poet first wrote “confined at home,” thus representing this life as the home of the soul. His friend led him to make the change in order to express more clearly his belief in the soul’s immortality.
’89’
Show how “rests” and “expatiates” in this line contrast with “uneasy” and “confined” in l. 97.
’99-112′
In this famous passage Pope shows how the belief in immortality is found even among the most ignorant tribes. This is to Pope an argument that the soul must be immortal, since only Nature, or God working through Nature, could have implanted this conception in the Indian’s mind.
‘102 the solar walk:’
the sun’s path in the heavens.
‘the milky way:’
some old philosophers held that the souls of good men went thither after death.
Pope means that the ignorant Indian had no conception of a heaven reserved for the just such as Greek sages and Christian believers have. All he believes in is “an humbler heaven,” where he shall be free from the evils of this life. Line 108 has special reference to the tortures inflicted upon the natives of Mexico and Peru by the avaricious Spanish conquerors.
‘109-110’
He is contented with a future existence, without asking for the glories of the Christian’s heaven.
‘111 equal sky:’
impartial heaven, for the heaven of the Indians was open to all men, good or bad.
‘113-130’
In this passage Pope blames those civilized men who, though they should be wiser than the Indian, murmur against the decrees of God. The imperative verbs “weigh,” “call,” “say,” etc., are used satirically.
‘113 scale of sense:’
the scale, or means of judgment, which our senses give us.
‘117 gust:’
the pleasure of taste.
‘120’
The murmurers are dissatisfied that man is not at once perfect in his present state and destined to immortality, although such gifts have been given to no other creature.
‘123 reas’ning Pride:’
the pride of the intellect which assumes to condemn God’s providence.
‘131-172’
In this passage Pope imagines a dialogue between one of the proud murmurers he has described and himself. His opponent insists that the world was made primarily for man’s enjoyment (ll. 132-140). Pope asks whether nature does not seem to swerve from this end of promoting human happiness in times of pestilence, earthquake, and tempest (ll. 141-144). The other answers that these are only rare exceptions to the general laws, due perhaps to some change in nature since the world began (ll. 145-148). Pope replies by asking why there should not be exceptions in the moral as well as in the physical world; may not great villains be compared to terrible catastrophes in nature (ll. 148-156)? He goes on to say that no one but God can answer this question, that our human reasoning springs from pride, and that the true course of reasoning is simply to submit (ll. 156-164). He then suggests that “passions,” by which he means vices, are as necessary a part of the moral order as storms of the physical world (ll. 165-172).
‘142 livid deaths’:
pestilence.
‘143-144’
Pope was perhaps thinking of a terrible earthquake and flood that had caused great loss of life in Chili the year before this poem appeared.
‘150 Then Nature deviates’:
Nature departs from her regular order on such occasions as these catastrophes.
‘151’ that end:
human happiness, as in l. 149.
‘156’
Cæsar Borgia, the wicked son of Pope Alexander VI, and Catiline are mentioned here as portents in the moral world parallel to plagues and earthquakes in the physical.
‘160 young Ammon’:
Alexander the Great. See note on ‘Essay on Criticism’, l. 376.
‘163’
Why do we accuse God for permitting wickedness when we do not blame Him for permitting evil in the natural world?
‘166 there’:
in nature.
‘here’:
in man.
‘173-206’
In this section Pope reproves those who are dissatisfied with man’s faculties. He points out that all animals, man included, have powers suited to their position in the world (ll. 179-188), and asserts that if man had keener senses than he now has, he would be exposed to evils from which he now is free (ll. 193-203).
‘176 To want’:
to lack.
‘177’
Paraphrase this line in prose.
‘181 compensated’:
accented on the antepenult.
‘183 the state’:
the place which the creature occupies in the natural world.
‘195 finer optics’:
keener power of sight.
‘197 touch’:
a noun, subject of “were given,” understood from l. 195.
‘199 quick effluvia’:
pungent odors. The construction is very condensed here; “effluvia” may be regarded like “touch” as a subject of “were given” (l. 195); but one would expect rather a phrase to denote a keener sense of smell than man now possesses.
‘202 music of the spheres’:
it was an old belief that the stars and planets uttered musical notes as they moved along their courses. These notes made up the “harmony of the spheres.” Shakespeare (‘Merchant of Venice’, V, 64-5) says that our senses are too dull to hear it. Pope, following a passage in Cicero’s ‘Somnium Scipionis’, suggests that this music is too loud for human senses.
‘207-232’
Pope now goes on to show how in the animal world there is an exact gradation of the faculties of sense and of the powers of instinct. Man alone is endowed with reason which is more than equivalent to all these powers and makes him lord over all animals.
‘212’
The mole is almost blind; the lynx was supposed to be the most keen-sighted of animals.
‘213-214’
The lion was supposed by Pope to hunt by sight alone as the dog by scent. What does he mean by “the tainted green”?
‘215-216’
Fishes are almost deaf, while birds are very quick of hearing.
‘219 nice:’
keenly discriminating.
‘healing dew:’
healthful honey.
‘221-222’
The power of instinct which is barely perceptible in the pig amounts almost to the power of reason in the elephant.
‘223 barrier:’
pronounced like the French ‘barrière’, as a word of two syllables with the accent on the last.
‘226 Sense … Thought:’
sensation and reason.
‘227 Middle natures:’
intermediate natures, which long to unite with those above or below them. The exact sense is not very clear.
‘233-258’
In this passage Pope insists that the chain of being stretches unbroken from God through man to the lowest created forms. If any link in this chain were broken, as would happen if men possessed higher faculties than are now assigned them, the whole universe would be thrown into confusion. This is another answer to those who complain of the imperfections of man’s nature.
‘234 quick:’
living. Pope does not discriminate between organic and inorganic matter.
‘240 glass:’
microscope.
‘242-244’
Inferior beings might then press upon us. If they did not, a fatal gap would be left by our ascent in the scale.
‘247 each system:’
Pope imagines the universe to be composed of an infinite number of systems like ours. Since each of these is essential to the orderly arrangement of the universe, any disorder such as he has imagined would have infinitely destructive consequences. These are described in ll. 251-257.
‘267-280’
In these lines Pope speaks of God as the soul of the world in an outburst of really exalted enthusiasm that is rare enough in his work.
‘269 That:’
a relative pronoun referring to “soul,” l. 268.
‘270 th’ ethereal frame:’ the heavens.
‘276 as perfect in a hair as heart:’
this has been called “a vile antithesis,” on the ground that there is no reason why hair and heart should be contrasted. But Pope may have had in mind the saying of Christ. “the very hairs of your head are all numbered.” The hairs are spoken of here as the least important part of the body; the heart, on the other hand, has always been thought of as the most important organ. There is, therefore, a real antithesis between the two.
‘278 Seraph … burns:’
the seraphim according to old commentators are on fire with the love of God.
‘280 equals all:’
makes all things equal. This does not seem consistent with the idea of the gradations of existence which Pope has been preaching throughout this Epistle. Possibly it means that all things high and low are filled alike with the divine spirit and in this sense all things are equal. But one must not expect to find exact and consistent philosophy in the ‘Essay on Man’.
‘281-294’
Here Pope sums up the argument of this Epistle, urging man to recognize his ignorance, to be content with his seeming imperfections, and to realize that “whatever is, is right.”
‘282 Our proper bliss:’
our happiness as men.
‘283 point:’
appointed place in the universe.
‘286 Secure:’
sure.
‘289’
Hobbes, an English philosopher with whose work Pope was, no doubt, acquainted, says, “Nature is the art whereby God governs the world.”
* * * * *
AN EPISTLE TO DR ARBUTHNOT
INTRODUCTION
Next to ‘The Rape of the Lock’, I think, the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’ is the most interesting and the most important of Pope’s poems–the most important since it shows the master poet of the age employing his ripened powers in the field most suitable for their display, that of personal satire, the most interesting, because, unlike his former satiric poem the ‘Dunciad’, it is not mere invective, but gives us, as no other poem of Pope’s can be said to do, a portrait of the poet himself.
Like most of Pope’s poems, the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’ owes its existence to an objective cause. This was the poet’s wish to justify himself against a series of savage attacks, which had recently been directed against him. If Pope had expected by the publication of the ‘Dunciad’ to crush the herd of scribblers who had been for years abusing him, he must have been woefully disappointed. On the contrary, the roar of insult and calumny rose louder than ever, and new voices were added to the chorus. In the year 1733 two enemies entered the field against Pope such as he had never yet had to encounter–enemies of high social position, of acknowledged wit, and of a certain, though as the sequel proved quite inadequate, talent for satire. These were Lady Mary Wortley Montague and Lord John Hervey.
Lady Mary had been for years acknowledged as one of the wittiest, most learned, and most beautiful women of her day. Pope seems to have met her in 1715 and at once joined the train of her admirers. When she accompanied her husband on his embassy to Constantinople in the following year, the poet entered into a long correspondence with her, protesting in the most elaborate fashion his undying devotion. On her return he induced her to settle with her husband at Twickenham. Here he continued his attentions, half real, half in the affected gallantry of the day, until, to quote the lady’s own words to her daughter many years after, “at some ill-chosen time when she least expected what romancers call a declaration, he made such passionate love to her, as, in spite of her utmost endeavours to be angry and look grave, provoked an immoderate fit of laughter,” and, she added, from that moment Pope became her implacable enemy. Certainly by the time Pope began to write the ‘Dunciad’ he was so far estranged from his old friend that he permitted himself in that poem a scoffing allusion to a scandal in which she had recently become involved. The lady answered, or the poet thought that she did, with an anonymous pamphlet, ‘A Pop upon Pope’, describing a castigation, wholly imaginary, said to have been inflicted upon the poet as a proper reward for his satire. After this, of course, all hope of a reconciliation was at an end, and in his satires and epistles Pope repeatedly introduced Lady Mary under various titles in the most offensive fashion. In his first ‘Imitation of Horace’, published in February, 1733, he referred in the most unpardonable manner to a certain Sappho, and the dangers attendant upon any acquaintance with her. Lady Mary was foolish enough to apply the lines to herself and to send a common friend to remonstrate with Pope. He coolly replied that he was surprised that Lady Mary should feel hurt, since the lines could only apply to certain women, naming four notorious scribblers, whose lives were as immoral as their works. Such an answer was by no means calculated to turn away the lady’s wrath, and for an ally in the campaign of anonymous abuse that she now planned she sought out her friend Lord Hervey. John Hervey, called by courtesy Lord Hervey, the second son of the Earl of Bristol, was one of the most prominent figures at the court of George II. He had been made vice-chamberlain of the royal household in 1730, and was the intimate friend and confidential adviser of Queen Caroline. Clever, affable, unprincipled, and cynical, he was a perfect type of the Georgian courtier to whom loyalty, patriotism, honesty, and honor were so many synonyms for folly. He was effeminate in habits and appearance, but notoriously licentious; he affected to scoff at learning but made some pretense to literature, and had written ‘Four Epistles after the Manner of Ovid’, and numerous political pamphlets. Pope, who had some slight personal acquaintance with him, disliked his political connections and probably despised his verses, and in the ‘Imitation’ already mentioned had alluded to him under the title of Lord Fanny as capable of turning out a thousand lines of verse a day. This was sufficient cause, if cause were needed, to induce Hervey to join Lady Mary in her warfare against Pope.
The first blow was struck in an anonymous poem, probably the combined work of the two allies, called ‘Verses addressed to the Imitator of Horace’, which appeared in March, 1733, and it was followed up in August by an ‘Epistle from a Nobleman to a Doctor of Divinity’, which also appeared anonymously, but was well known to be the work of Lord Hervey. In these poems Pope was abused in the most unmeasured terms. His work was styled a mere collection of libels; he had no invention except in defamation; he was a mere pretender to genius. His morals were not left unimpeached; he was charged with selling other men’s work printed in his name,–a gross distortion of his employing assistants in the translation of the ‘Odyssey’,–he was ungrateful, unjust, a foe to human kind, an enemy like the devil to all that have being. The noble authors, probably well aware how they could give the most pain, proceeded to attack his family and his distorted person. His parents were obscure and vulgar people; and he himself a wretched outcast:
with the emblem of [his] crooked mind Marked on [his] back like Cain by God’s own hand.
And to cap the climax, as soon as these shameful libels were in print, Lord Hervey bustled off to show them to the Queen and to laugh with her over the fine way in which he had put down the bitter little poet.
In order to understand and appreciate Pope’s reception of these attacks, we must recall to ourselves the position in which he lived. He was a Catholic, and I have already (Introduction, p. x) called attention to the precarious, tenure by which the Catholics of his time held their goods, their persons, their very lives, in security. He was the intimate of Bolingbroke, of all men living the most detested by the court, and his noble friends were almost without exception the avowed enemies of the court party. Pope had good reason to fear that the malice of his enemies might not be content to stop with abusive doggerel. But he was not in the least intimidated. On the contrary, he broke out in a fine flame of wrath against Lord Hervey, whom he evidently considered the chief offender, challenged his enemy to disavow the ‘Epistle’, and on his declining to do so, proceeded to make what he called “a proper reply” in a prose ‘Letter to a Noble Lord’. This masterly piece of satire was passed about from hand to hand, but never printed. We are told that Sir Robert Walpole, who found Hervey a convenient tool in court intrigues, bribed Pope not to print it by securing a good position in France for one of the priests who had watched over the poet’s youth. If this story be true, and we have Horace Walpole’s authority for it, we may well imagine that the entry of the bribe, like that of Uncle Toby’s oath, was blotted out by a tear from the books of the Recording Angel.
But Pope was by no means disposed to let the attacks go without an answer of some kind, and the particular form which his answer took seems to have been suggested by a letter from Arbuthnot. “I make it my last request,” wrote his beloved physician, now sinking fast under the diseases that brought him to the grave, “that you continue that noble disdain and abhorrence of vice, which you seem so naturally endued with, but still with a due regard to your own safety; and study more to reform than to chastise, though the one often cannot be effected without the other.” “I took very kindly your advice,” Pope replied, “… and it has worked so much upon me considering the time and state you gave it in, that I determined to address to you one of my epistles written by piecemeal many years, and which I have now made haste to put together; wherein the question is stated, what were, and are my motives of writing, the objections to them, and my answers.” In other words, the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’ which we see that Pope was working over at the date of this letter, August 25, 1734, was, in the old-fashioned phrase, his ‘Apologia’, his defense of his life and work.
As usual, Pope’s account of his work cannot be taken literally. A comparison of dates shows that the ‘Epistle’ instead of having been “written by piecemeal many years” is essentially the work of one impulse, the desire to vindicate his character, his parents, and his work from the aspersions cast upon them by Lord Hervey and Lady Mary. The exceptions to this statement are two, or possibly three, passages which we know to have been written earlier and worked into the poem with infinite art.
The first of these is the famous portrait of Addison as Atticus. I have already spoken of the reasons that led to Pope’s breach with Addison (Introduction, p. xv); and there is good reason to believe that this portrait sprang directly from Pope’s bitter feeling toward the elder writer for his preference of Tickell’s translation. The lines were certainly written in Addison’s lifetime, though we may be permitted to doubt whether Pope really did send them to him, as he once asserted. They did not appear in print, however, till four years after Addison’s death, when they were printed apparently without Pope’s consent in a volume of miscellanies. It is interesting to note that in this form the full name “Addison” appeared in the last line. Some time later Pope acknowledged the verses and printed them with a few changes in his ‘Miscellany’ of 1727, substituting the more decorous “A—n” for the “Addison” of the first text. Finally he worked over the passage again and inserted it, for a purpose that will be shown later, in the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’.
It is not worth while to discuss here the justice or injustice of this famous portrait. In fact, the question hardly deserves to be raised. The passage is admittedly a satire, and a satire makes no claim to be a just and final sentence. Admitting, as we must, that Pope was in the wrong in his quarrel with Addison, we may well admit that he has not done him full justice. But we must equally admit that the picture is drawn with wonderful skill, that praise and blame are deftly mingled, and that the satire is all the more severe because of its frank admission of the great man’s merits. And it must also be said that Pope has hit off some of the faults of Addison’s character,–his coldness, his self-complacency, his quiet sneer, his indulgence of flattering fools–in a way that none of his biographers have done. That Pope was not blind to Addison’s chief merit as an author is fully shown by a passage in a later poem, less well known than the portrait of Atticus, but well worth quotation. After speaking of the licentiousness of literature in Restoration days, he goes on to say:
In our own (excuse some courtly stains) No whiter page than Addison’s remains,
He from the taste obscene reclaims our youth, And sets the passions on the side of truth, Forms the soft bosom with the gentlest art, And pours each human virtue in the heart.
‘Epistle to Augustus, II’. 215-220.
If Pope was unjust to Addison the man, he at least made amends to Addison the moralist.
The second passage that may have had an independent existence before the ‘Epistle’ was conceived is the portrait of Bufo, ll. 229-247. There is reason to believe that this attack was first aimed at Bubb Doddington, a courtier of Hervey’s class, though hardly of so finished a type, to whom Pope alludes as Bubo in l. 278. When Pope was working on the ‘Epistle’, however, he saw an opportunity to vindicate his own independence of patronage by a satiric portrait of the great Maecenas of his younger days, Lord Halifax, who had ventured some foolish criticisms on Pope’s translation of the ‘Iliad’, and seems to have expected that the poet should dedicate the great work to him in return for an offer of a pension which he made and Pope declined. There is no reason to believe that Pope cherished any very bitter resentment toward Halifax. On the contrary, in a poem published some years after the ‘Epistle’ he boasted of his friendship with Halifax, naming him outright, and adding in a note that the noble lord was no less distinguished by his love of letters than his abilities in Parliament.
The third passage, a tender reference to his mother’s age and weakness, was written at least as early as 1731,–Mrs. Pope died in 1733,–and was incorporated in the ‘Epistle’ to round it off with a picture of the poet absorbed in his filial duties at the very time that Hervey and Lady Mary were heaping abuse upon him, as a monster devoid of all good qualities. And now having discussed the various insertions in the ‘Epistle’, let us look for a moment at the poem as a whole, and see what is the nature of Pope’s defense of himself and of his reply to his enemies.
It is cast in the form of a dialogue between the poet himself and Arbuthnot. Pope begins by complaining of the misfortunes which his reputation as a successful man of letters has brought upon him. He is a mark for all the starving scribblers of the town who besiege him for advice, recommendations, and hard cash. Is it not enough to make a man write ‘Dunciads?’ Arbuthnot warns him against the danger of making foes (ll. 101- 104), but Pope replies that his flatterers are even more intolerable than his open enemies. And with a little outburst of impatience, such as we may well imagine him to have indulged in during his later years, he cries:
Why did I write? What sin to me unknown Dipt me in ink, my parents’ or my own?
and begins with l. 125 his poetical autobiography. He tells of his first childish efforts, of poetry taken up “to help me thro’ this long disease my life,” and then goes on to speak of the noble and famous friends who had praised his early work and urged him to try his fortune in the open field of letters. He speaks of his first poems, the ‘Pastorals’ and ‘Windsor Forest’, harmless as Hervey’s own verses, and tells how even then critics like Dennis fell foul of him. Rival authors hated him, too, especially such pilfering bards as Philips. This he could endure, but the coldness and even jealousy of such a man as Addison–and here appears the famous portrait of Atticus–was another matter, serious enough to draw tears from all lovers of mankind.
Passing on (l. 213) to the days of his great success when his ‘Homer’ was the talk of the town, he asserts his ignorance of all the arts of puffery and his independence of mutual admiration societies. He left those who wished a patron to the tender mercies of Halifax, who fed fat on flattery and repaid his flatterers merely with a good word or a seat at his table. After all, the poet could afford to lose the society of Bufo’s toadies while such a friend as Gay was left him (l. 254).
After an eloquent expression of his wish for independence (ll. 261-270), he goes on to speak of the babbling friends who insist that he is always meditating some new satire, and persist in recognizing some wretched poetaster’s lampoon as his. And so by a natural transition Pope comes to speak of his own satiric poems and their aims. He says, and rightly, that he has never attacked virtue or innocence. He reserves his lash for those who trample on their neighbors and insult “fallen worth,” for cold or treacherous friends, liars, and babbling blockheads. Let Sporus (Hervey) tremble (l. 303). Arbuthnot interposes herewith an ejaculation of contemptuous pity; is it really worth the poet’s while to castigate such a slight thing as Hervey, that “mere white curd”? But Pope has suffered too much from Hervey’s insolence to stay his hand, and he now proceeds to lay on the lash with equal fury and precision, drawing blood at every stroke, until we seem to see the wretched fop writhing and shrieking beneath the whip. And then with a magnificent transition he goes on (ll. 332-337) to draw a portrait of himself. Here, he says in effect, is the real man that Sporus has so maligned. The portrait is idealized, of course; one could hardly expect a poet speaking in his own defense in reply to venomous attacks to dissect his own character with the stern impartiality of the critics of the succeeding century, but it is in all essentials a portrait at once impressive and true.
Arbuthnot again interrupts (l. 358) to ask why he spares neither the poor nor the great in his satire, and Pope replies that he hates knaves in every rank of life. Yet by nature, he insists, he is of an easy temper, more readily deceived than angered, and in a long catalogue of instances he illustrates his own patience and good nature (ll. 366-385). It must be frankly confessed that these lines do not ring true. Pope might in the heat of argument convince himself that he was humble and slow to wrath, but he has never succeeded in convincing his readers.
With l. 382 Pope turns to the defense of his family, which, as we have seen, his enemies had abused as base and obscure. He draws a noble picture of his dead father, “by nature honest, by experience wise” simple, modest, and temperate, and passes to the description of himself watching over the last years of his old mother, his sole care to
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye And keep a while one parent from the sky.
If the length of days which Heaven has promised those who honor father and mother fall to his lot, may Heaven preserve him such a friend as Arbuthnot to bless those days. And Arbuthnot closes the dialogue with a word which is meant, I think, to sum up the whole discussion and to pronounce the verdict that Pope’s life had been good and honorable.
Whether that blessing [1] be deny’d or giv’n, Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heav’n.
It seems hardly necessary to point out the merits of so patent a masterpiece as the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’. In order to enjoy it to the full, indeed, one must know something of the life of the author, of the circumstances under which it was written, and, in general, of the social and political life of the time. But even without this special knowledge no reader can fail to appreciate the marvelous ease, fluency, and poignancy of this admirable satire. There is nothing like it in our language except Pope’s other satires, and of all his satires it is, by common consent, easily the first. It surpasses the satiric poetry of Dryden in pungency and depth of feeling as easily as it does that of Byron in polish and artistic restraint. Its range of tone is remarkable. At times it reads like glorified conversation, as in the opening lines; at times it flames and quivers with emotion, as in the assault on Hervey, or in the defense of his parents. Even in the limited field of satiric portraiture there is a wide difference between the manner in which Pope has drawn the portrait of Atticus and that of Sporus. The latter is a masterpiece of pure invective; no allowances are made, no lights relieve the darkness of the shadows, the portrait is frankly inhuman. It is the product of an unrestrained outburst of bitter passion. The portrait of Atticus, on the other hand, was, as we know, the work of years. It is the product not of an outburst of fury, but of a slowly growing and intense dislike, which, while recognizing the merits of its object, fastened with peculiar power upon his faults and weaknesses. The studious restraint which controls the satirist’s hand makes it only the more effective. We know well enough that the portrait is not a fair one, but we are forced to remind ourselves of this at every step to avoid the spell which Pope’s apparent impartiality casts over our judgments. The whole passage reads not so much like the heated plea of an advocate as the measured summing-up of a judge, and the last couplet falls on our ears with the inevitability of a final sentence. But the peculiar merit of the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’ consists neither in the ease and polish of its style, nor in the vigor and effectiveness of its satire, but in the insight it gives us into the heart and mind of the poet himself. It presents an ideal picture of Pope, the man and the author, of his life, his friendships, his love of his parents, his literary relationships and aims. And it is quite futile to object, as some critics have done, that this picture is not exactly in accordance with the known facts of Pope’s life. No great man can be tried and judged on the mere record of his acts. We must know the circumstances that shaped these, and the motives that inspired them. A man’s ideals, if genuinely held and honestly followed, are perhaps even more valuable contributions to our final estimate of the man himself than all he did or left undone.
All I could never be,
All, men ignored in me,
This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.
And in the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’ we recognize in Pope ideals of independence, of devotion to his art, of simple living, of loyal friendship, and of filial piety which shine in splendid contrast with the gross, servile, and cynically immoral tone of the age and society in which he lived.
[Footnote 1: i. e. the blessing of Arbuthnot’s future companionship, for which Pope (l. 413) had just prayed.]
ADVERTISEMENT
Dr. John Arbuthnot, one of Pope’s most intimate friends, had been physician to Queen Anne, and was a man of letters as well as a doctor. Arbuthnot, Pope, and Swift had combined to get out a volume of Miscellanies in 1737. His health was failing rapidly at this time, and he died a month or so after the appearance of this ‘Epistle’.
EPISTLE
‘1 John:’
John Searle, Pope’s faithful servant.
‘4 Bedlam:’
a lunatic asylum in London in Pope’s day. Notice how Pope mentions, in the same breath, Bedlam and Parnassus, the hill of the Muses which poets might well be supposed to haunt.
‘8 thickets:’
the groves surrounding Pope’s villa.
‘Grot:’
see Introduction [grotto].
’10 the chariot:’
the coach in which Pope drove.
‘the barge:’
the boat in which Pope was rowed upon the Thames.
’13 the Mint:’
a district in London where debtors were free from arrest. As they could not be arrested anywhere on Sunday, Pope represents them as taking that day to inflict their visits on him.
’15 Parson:’
probably a certain Eusden, who had some pretensions to letters, but who ruined himself by drink.
’17 Clerk:’
a law clerk.
’18 engross:’
write legal papers.
’19-20′
An imaginary portrait of a mad poet who keeps on writing verses even in his cell in Bedlam. Pope may have been thinking of Lee, a dramatist of Dryden’s day who was confined for a time in this asylum.
’23 Arthur:’
Arthur Moore, a member of Parliament for some years and well known in London society. His “giddy son,” James Moore, who took the name of Moore Smythe, dabbled in letters and was a bitter enemy of Pope.
’25 Cornus:’
Robert Lord Walpole, whose wife deserted him in 1734. Horace Walpole speaks of her as half mad.
’31 sped:’
done for.
’40’
Pope’s counsel to delay the publication of the works read to him is borrowed from Horace: “nonumque prematur in annum” ‘(Ars Poetica, 388).’
’41 Drury-lane,’
like Grub Street, a haunt of poor authors at this time.
’43 before Term ends:’
before the season is over; that is, as soon as the poem is written.
’48 a Prologue:’
for a play. Of course a prologue by the famous Mr. Pope would be of great value to a poor and unknown dramatist.
’49 Pitholeon:’
the name of a foolish poet mentioned by Horace. Pope uses it here for his enemy Welsted, mentioned in l. 373.–‘his Grace:’ the title given a Duke in Great Britain. The Duke here referred to is said to be the Duke of Argyle, one of the most influential of the great Whig lords.
’53 Curll’:
a notorious publisher of the day, and an enemy of Pope. The implication is that if Pope will not grant Pitholeon’s request, the latter will accept Curll’s invitation and concoct a new libel against the poet.
’60’
Pope was one of the few men of letters of his day who had not written a play, and he was at this time on bad terms with certain actors.
’62’
Bernard Lintot, the publisher of Pope’s translation of Homer.
’66 go snacks’:
share the profits. Pope represents the unknown dramatist as trying to bribe him to give a favorable report of the play.
’69 Midas’:
an old legend tells us that Midas was presented with a pair of ass’s ears by an angry god whose music he had slighted. His barber, or, Chaucer says, his queen, discovered the change which Midas had tried to conceal, and unable to keep the secret whispered it to the reeds in the river, who straightway spread the news abroad.
’75’
With this line Arbuthnot is supposed to take up the conversation. This is indicated here and elsewhere by the letter A.
’79 Dunciad’:
see Introduction, p. xviii.
’85 Codrus’:
a name borrowed from Juvenal to denote a foolish poet. Pope uses it here for some conceited dramatist who thinks none the less of himself because his tragedy is rejected with shouts of laughter.
’96’
Explain the exact meaning of this line.
’97 Bavius’:
a stock name for a bad poet. See note on ‘Essay on Criticism’, l. 34.
’98 Philips’:
Ambrose Philips, author among other things of a set of ‘Pastorals’ that appeared in the same volume with Pope, 1709. Pope and he soon became bitter enemies. He was patronized by a Bishop Boulter.
’99 Sappho’:
Here as elsewhere Pope uses the name of the Greek poetess for his enemy, Lady Mary Wortley Montague.
‘109 Grubstreet’:
a wretched street in London, inhabited in Pope’s day by hack writers, most of whom were his enemies.
‘111 Curll’
(see note to l. 53) had printed a number of Pope’s letters without the poet’s consent some years before this poem was written.
‘113-132’
Pope here describes the flatterers who were foolish enough to pay him personal compliments. They compare him to Horace who was short like Pope, though fat, and who seems to have suffered from colds; also to Alexander, one of whose shoulders was higher than the other, and to Ovid, whose other name, Naso, might indicate that long noses were a characteristic feature of his family. Pope really had large and beautiful eyes. Maro, l. 122, is Virgil.
‘123’
With this line Pope begins an account of his life as a poet. For his precocity, see Introduction, p. xii.
‘129 ease:’
amuse, entertain.
‘friend, not Wife:’
the reference is, perhaps, to Martha Blount, Pope’s friend, and may have been meant as a contradiction of his reported secret marriage to her.
‘132 to bear:’
to endure the pains and troubles of an invalid’s life.
‘133 Granville:’
George Granville, Lord Lansdowne, a poet and patron of letters to whom Pope had dedicated his ‘Windsor Forest.’
‘134 Walsh:’
see note on ‘Essay on Criticism,’ l. 729.
‘135 Garth:’
Sir Samuel Garth, like Arbuthnot, a doctor, a man of letters, and an early friend of Pope.
‘137’
Charles Talbot, Duke of Shrewsbury; John, Lord Somers; and John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham; all leading statesmen and patrons of literature in Queen Anne’s day.
‘138 Rochester:’
Francis Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, an intimate friend of Pope.
‘139 St. John:’
Bolingbroke. For Pope’s relations with him, see introduction to the ‘Essay on Man,’ p. 116.
‘143’
Gilbert Burnet and John Oldmixon had written historical works from the Whig point of view. Roger Cooke, a now forgotten writer, had published a ‘Detection of the Court and State of England.’ Pope in a note on this line calls them all three authors of secret and scandalous history.
‘146’
The reference is to Pope’s early descriptive poems, the ‘Pastorals’ and ‘Windsor Forest.’
‘147 gentle Fanny’s:’
a sneer at Lord Hervey’s verses. See the introduction to this poem, p. 126.
‘149 Gildon:’
a critic of the time who had repeatedly attacked Pope. The poet told Spence that he had heard Addison gave Gildon ten pounds to slander him.
‘151 Dennis:’
see note on ‘Essay on Criticism.’ l. 270.
‘156 kiss’d the rod:’
Pope was sensible enough to profit by the criticisms even of his enemies. He corrected several passages in the ‘Essay on Criticism’ which Dennis had properly found fault with.
‘162 Bentley:’
the most famous scholar of Pope’s day. Pope disliked him because of his criticism of the poet’s translation of the ‘Iliad’, “good verses, but not Homer.” The epithet “slashing” refers to Bentley’s edition of ‘Paradise Lost’ in which he altered and corrected the poet’s text to suit his own ideas.
‘Tibbalds’:
Lewis Theobald (pronounced Tibbald), a scholar who had attacked Pope’s edition of Shakespeare. Pope calls him “piddling” because of his scrupulous attention to details.
‘177 The Bard’:
Philips, see note on l. 98. Pope claimed that Philips’s ‘Pastorals’ were plagiarized from Spenser, and other poets. Philips, also, translated some ‘Persian Tales’ for the low figure of half a crown apiece.
‘187 bade translate’:
suggested that they translate other men’s work, since they could write nothing valuable of their own.
‘188 Tate’:
a poetaster of the generation before Pope. He is remembered as the part author of a doggerel version of the Psalms.
‘191-212’
For a discussion of this famous passage, see introduction to the ‘Epistle’ p. 130.
‘196 the Turk’:
it was formerly the practice for a Turkish monarch when succeeding to the throne to have all his brothers murdered so as to do away with possible rivals.
‘199 faint praise’:
Addison was hearty enough when he cared to praise his friends. Pope is thinking of the coldness with which Addison treated his ‘Pastorals’ as compared to those of Philips.
‘206 oblig’d’:
note the old-fashioned pronunciation to rhyme with “besieged.”
‘207 Cato’:
an unmistakable allusion to Addison’s tragedy in which the famous Roman appears laying down the law to the remnants of the Senate.
‘209 Templars’:
students of law at the “Temple” in London who prided themselves on their good taste in literature. A body of them came on purpose to applaud ‘Cato’ on the first night.
‘raise’:
exalt, praise.
‘211-212 laugh … weep’:
explain the reason for these actions.
‘Atticus’:
Addison’s name was given in the first version of this passage. Then it was changed to “A—n.” Addison had been mentioned in the ‘Spectator’ (No. 150) under the name of Atticus as “in every way one of the greatest geniuses the age has produced.”
‘213 rubric on the walls’:
Lintot, Pope’s old publisher, used to stick up the titles of new books in red letters on the walls of his shop.
‘214 with claps’:
with clap-bills, posters.
‘215 smoking:’
hot from the press.
‘220 George:’
George II, king of England at this time. His indifference to literature was notorious.
‘228 Bufo:’
the picture of a proud but grudging patron of letters which follows was first meant for Bubb Doddington, a courtier and patron of letters at the time the poem was written. In order to connect it more closely with the time of which he was writing, Pope added ll. 243-246, which pointed to Charles Montague, Earl of Halifax. Halifax was himself a poet and affected to be a great patron of poetry, but his enemies accused him of only giving his clients “good words and good dinners.” Pope tells an amusing story of Montague’s comments on his translation of the ‘Iliad’ (Spence, ‘Anecdotes’, p. 134). But Halifax subscribed for ten copies of the translation, so that Pope, at least, could not complain of his lack of generosity.
‘Castalian state:’
the kingdom of poets.
‘232’
His name was coupled with that of Horace as a poet and critic.
‘234 Pindar without a head:’
some headless statue which Bufo insisted was a genuine classic figure of Pindar, the famous Greek lyric poet.
‘237 his seat:’
his country seat.
‘242 paid in kind:’
What does this phrase mean?
‘243’
Dryden died in 1700. He had been poor and obliged to work hard for a living in his last years, but hardly had to starve. Halifax offered to pay the expenses of his funeral and contribute five hundred pounds for a monument, and Pope not unreasonably suggests that some of this bounty might have been bestowed on Dryden in his lifetime.
‘249’
When a politician wants a writer to put in a day’s work in defending him. Walpole, for example, who cared nothing for poetry, spent large sums in retaining writers to defend him in the journals and pamphlets of the day.
‘254’
John Gay, the author of some very entertaining verses, was an intimate friend of Pope. On account of some supposed satirical allusions his opera ‘Polly’ was refused a license, and when his friends, the Duke and Duchess of Queensberry (see l. 260) solicited subscriptions for it in the palace, they were driven from the court. Gay died in 1732, and Pope wrote an epitaph for his tomb in Westminster Abbey. It is to this that he alludes in l. 258.
‘274’
Balbus is said to mean the Earl of Kinnoul, at one time an acquaintance of Pope and Swift.
‘278’
Sir William Yonge, a Whig politician whom Pope disliked. He seems to have written occasional verses. Bubo is Bubo Doddington (see note on l 230).
‘297-298’
In the Fourth Moral Essay, published in 1731 as an ‘Epistle to the Earl of Burlington’, Pope had given a satirical description of a nobleman’s house and grounds, adorned and laid out at vast expense, but in bad taste. Certain features of this description were taken from Canons, the splendid country place of the Duke of Chandos, and the duke was at once identified by a scandal-loving public with the Timon of the poem. In the description Pope speaks of the silver bell which calls worshipers to Timon’s chapel, and of the soft Dean preaching there “who never mentions Hell to ears polite.” In this passage of the ‘Epistle to Arbuthnot’ he is protesting against the people who swore that they could identify the bell and the Dean as belonging to the chapel at Canons.
‘303 Sporus’:
a favorite of Nero, used here for Lord Hervey. See introduction to this poem, p. 128.
‘304 ass’s milk’:
Hervey was obliged by bad health to keep a strict diet, and a cup of ass’s milk was his daily drink.
‘308 painted child’:
Hervey was accustomed to paint his face like a woman.
‘317-319’
Pope is thinking of Milton’s striking description of Satan “squat like a toad” by the ear of the sleeping Eve (‘Paradise Lost’, IV, 800). In this passage “Eve” refers to Queen Caroline with whom Hervey was on intimate terms. It is said that he used to have a seat in the queen’s hunting chaise “where he sat close behind her perched at her ear.”
‘322 now master up, now miss’:
Pope borrowed this telling phrase from a pamphlet against Hervey written by Pulteney, a political opponent, in which the former is called “a pretty little master-miss.”
‘326 the board’:
the Council board where Hervey sat as member of the Privy Council.
‘328-329’
An allusion to the old pictures of the serpent in Eden with a snake’s body and a woman’s, or angel’s, face.
‘330 parts’:
talents, natural gifts.
‘338-339’
An allusion to Pope’s abandoning the imaginative topics to his early poems, as the ‘Pastorals’ and ‘The Rape of the Lock’, and turning to didactic verse as in the ‘Essay on Man’, and the ‘Moral Epistles’.
‘347’