An essay on the writings and genius of Pope:

SECT. IV. Of the RAPE of the LOCK.

IF 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 conveyed in the form of the epopee, a pleasing vehicle of satire never used by the ancients. As the poet disappears in this way of writing, and does not deliver the intended censure in his own proper person, the satire becomes more delicate, 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 there|fore be justly esteemed the most excellent kind of satire.

THE invention of it is usually ascribed to Alessandro Tassoni; who in the year 1622, published at Paris, a poem composed by him,

in a few months of the year 1611, entitled LA SECCHIA RAPITA, or The Rape of the Bucket. To avoid giving offence, it was first printed under the name of Androvini Melisoni. It was afterwards reprinted at Venice, cor|rected, with the name of the author, and with some illustrations of Gasparo Salviani. But the learned and curious Crescembini, in his Istoria della Volgar Poesia,* 1.1 informs us, that it is doubtful whether the invention of the † 1.2 heroi-comic poem ought to be ascribed to Tassoni, or to Francesco Bracciolini, who wrote LO SCHERNO DE GLI DEI, which perfor|mance, 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 war which the inhabitants of Modena declared against those of Bologna, on the refu|sal of the latter to restore to them some towns, which had been detained ever since the time

of the emperor Frederic II. The author artfully made use of a popular tradition, according to which it was believed, that a certain woodden bucket, which is kept at Modena in the treasury of the cathedral, came from Bologna, and that it had been forcibly taken away by the Mode|nese. Crescembini adds, that because Tassoni had severely ridiculed the Bolognese, Barto|lomeo Bocchini, to revenge his countrymen, printed at Venice MDCXLI, a tragico-heroi|comic poem, entitled LE PAZZIE DE SAVI, overo, IL 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 another poem of this species, called MAL|MANTILE RACQUISTATO, written by Lo|renzo Lippi, in the year MDCLXXVI, which Crescembini* 1.3 highly commends, calling it,

"Spiritosisimo e legiadrissimo poema gia|coso."

It was afterwards reprinted at Flo|rence MDCLXXXVIII, with the useful anno|tations

of Puccio Lamoni, a Florentine painter, who was himself no contemptible poet.

THE LUTRIN of Boileau was the second remarkable poem, in which the Serious and Comic were happily blended. Boileau him|self has given a circumstantial account of what gave occasion to this poem; which account, because it is entertaining, and not printed in the common 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 supports 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, even 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 engaged in, the conver|sation turned upon epic poetry: every one delivered his opinion, according to his abili|ties; when mine was asked, I confirmed

what I had advanced in my Art of Poetry, that an heroic poem, to be truly excellent, ought to be charged with little MATTER, which 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 nobody was con|vinced, 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 gentleman related a famous quarrel, that had lately happened 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 droll

affair. Upon this, one of the critics in com|pany, who could not so soon forget our late dispute, asked me, if I, who thought so little MATTER necessary for an heroic poem, would undertake to write one on a quarrel so little abounding in incidents, as this of the two ecclesiastics. "J'eus plutôt dit, pourquoi non? que je n'eus fait reflexion sur ce qu'il me demandoit." 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 finding myself at leisure in the evening, I re|volved 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 write twenty more. Thus, from twenty verses to twenty, I lengthened the work to near nine hundred. This is the whole history of the trifle I now offer to the public.—This is a new kind of burlesque, which I have intro|duced

into our language: for, as in the other kind of burlesque, that of Scarron, Dido and Aeneas spoke like fish-women and porters, in this of mine, a * 1.4 clock-maker and his wife talk like Dido and Aeneas. 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 method of raising a poem full of beautiful imagery; which appears like that magnificent city, † 1.5 which the greatest of princes caused to be built in a morass. Boileau has en|livened this piece with many unexpected inci|dents and entertaining episodes;

Maxima de nihilo nascitur historia. Prop.

Particularly that of the Perruquier, in the se|cond canto, and of the Battle of the Books, in the fifth. The satire throughout is poig|nant, though polite, to the last degree. The indolence and luxury of the priests are ridi|culed with the most artful delicacy. What a picture has he drawn of the chamber and bed of the treasurer, where every thing was calculated to promote and preserve inactivity and ease!

Dans le reduit obscur d'un alcove enfoncée * 1.6 S'eleve un lit de plume a grand frais amassée. Quatre rideaux pompeux, par un double contour, En defendent l'entrée a la clartè du jour. La, parmi les douceurs d'un tranquille silence, Regne sur le duvet un heureuse Indolence. C'est la que Prelat muni d'un déjeûner, Dormant d'un leger somme, attendoit le dIner. La jeunesse en sa fleur brille sur son visage, Son menton sur son sein descend a double étage: Et son corps ramassé dans sa courte grosseur, Faits gémir les cousins sous sa molle épaisseur. † 1.7

The astonishment of Gilotin, the treasurer's almoner, to find that his master intends to go

out before dinner, is extremely natural; and his remonstrances are inimitably droll and pertinent.

Lui montre le peril: Que midi va sonner: Qu'il va faire, s'il sort, refroidir le dîner. Quelle fureur, dit-il, quel aveugle caprice, Quand la dîner est prît, vous appelle a l'Office? De votre dignitè soûtener mieux l'eclat Est-ce pour travailler que vous êtes Prélat? A quoi bon ce dégoût et ce zele inutile? Est-il donc pour jeuner Quatre temps, ou Vigile? Reprinez vos esprit, et souvenez vous bien, Qu'un dîner rechauffé ne valut jamais rien. † 1.8

How admirably, is the character of an igno|rant 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! * 1.9

Moi? dit-il, qu'a mon âge Ecolier tout noveau, J'aille pour un Lutrin me troubler le cerveau? O le plaisant conseil! non, non, songeons a vivre, Va maigrir, si tu veux, et secher sur un Livre. Pour moi je lis la Bible autant que l'Alcoran. Je sai ce qu'un Fermier nous doit rendre par an:

Sur quelle vigne a Rheims nous avons hypotheque; Vignt muids rangez chez moi sont ma Bibliotheque. En plaçant un Pupitre on croit nous rabbaisser, Mon bras seul sans Latin saura le renverser. Que m'importe qu'Arnauld me condamne ou m'approuve? J'abbats ce qui me nuit par tout oú je le trouve. C'est la mon sentiment. A quoi bon tant d'apprêts? Du reste déjeunons, Messieurs, et beuvons frais. * 1.10

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 high|ly comic. It is wonderful the ecclesiastics of France were not as much irritated by the publi|cation of the LUTRIN, as by the TARTUFFE of Moliere; which was suppressed by their in|terest, 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. expressed to the Prince of Condè, his wonder at the different fates of these two pieces, and asked the reason of it, the prince answered,

"In the farce, RELIGION only is ridiculed; but, Moliere in the TARTUFFE, has attack|ed even the PRIESTS."

BOILEAU has raised his subjects by many personifications; particularly, in the begin|ning of the sixth canto, PIETY who had re|tired to the great Carthusian monastery on the Alps, is introduced as repairing to Paris, accompanied by FAITH, HOPE, and CHA|RITY, in order to make her complaint to THEMIS: to which may be added, the mon|strous figure of CHICANERY, attended by FAMINE, WANT, SORROW, and RUIN, in the beginning of the fifth canto. The chief divinity that acts throughout the poem, is DISCORD; which goddess is represented as coming from a convent of Cordeliers. A fine stroke of satire; but imitated from the satyrical 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 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 solêtrent a l'entour. L'un pâitrit dans un coin l'embonpoint des Chanoines; L'autre broie en riant le vermillon des Moines. * 1.11

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 proceed.

THE third heroi-comic poem was the DISPENSARY of Garth: a palpable imitation of the LUTRIN, and the best satire on the phisicians extant, except the SANGRADO of Le Sage, who have indeed been the object of almost every satirist. The behaviour and sentiment of SLOTH, 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 s••ore; The peals of Nassau's arms these eyes unclose, Mine he molests, to give the world repose. * 1.12

Je croyois, loin des lieux d'on ce prince m'exile, Que l'Eglise du moins m'assùroit un azile. Mais envain j'esperois y regner sans effroi: Moines, Abbes, Prieurs, tout s'arme contre moi. † 1.13

Garth, in ridiculing the clergy, speaks of that order with more acrimony than Boileau, who merely laughs at them. But Garth was one of the free-thinking WITS at Button's. He has introduced many excellent parodies of the classics: among which I cannot forbear quoting one, which is an imitation of some passages, which the reader will remember, in Virgil's sixth book, and where the circum|stances are happily inverted.

‡ 1.14 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 ev'ry moment with a pill. * 1.15

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† 1.16. The descent into the earth in the sixth canto, is a fine mixture of poetry and philosophy; the hint is taken from the SYPHILIS of Fracastorius. Garth's versification is flowing and musical; his style perspicuous, and neat; and the poem in gene|ral 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|comic poems. The subject was a quarrel

occasioned by a little piece of gallantry of Lord Petre, who, in a party of pleasure, found means to cut off a favorite lock of Mrs. Arabella Fermour's hair. POPE was 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,

"What I wrote fastest always pleased most."

The first sketch of this exquisite piece, which Addison called MERUM 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 Mrs. Fer|mour, far superior to any of Voiture. The insertion of the machinery of the sylphs in proper places, without the least appearance of it's being aukwardly stitched in, is one of the happiest efforts of judgment and art. He took the idea of these invisible beings, so pro|per

to be employed in a poem of this nature, from a little french book entitled, Le Comte de Gabalis, of which I have lately met with an account, in an entertaining writer.

"The Abbe Villars, who came from Thoulouse to Paris, to make his fortune by preaching, is the author of this diverting work. The five dialogues of which it consists, are the result of those gay conversations, in which the Abbe was engaged á la porte de Richelieu, with a set of men, of fine wit and humour, like himself. When this book first appeared, it was universally read, as innocent and amusing. But at length, it's 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 forbidden to be read. It was not clear whether the author intended to be ironical, or spoke all seriously. The second volume which he promised, would have decided the que|stion: but the unfortunate Abbe was soon after|wards assassinated by ruffians, on the road to Lyons. The laughers gave out, that the

gnomes and sylphs, disguised like ruffians, had shot him, as a punishment for revealing the secrets of the Cabala; a crime not to be pardoned by these jealous spirits, as Villars himself has declared in his book* 1.17."

It may not be improper to give a specimen of this authors manner, who has lately been well imitated in the way of mixing jest with earnest, in an elegant piece called HERMIPPUS REDI|VIVUS. The Comte de Gabalis being about to initiate his pupils into the most profound mysteries of the Rosicrusian philosophy, ad|vises him to consider seriously, whether or no he had courage 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, et je ne doutay point qu'il n'allast me proposer de renoncer au baptesme ou au paradis. Ainsi ne sçachant comme me tirer de ce mauvais

pas; Renoncer, luy dis-je, Monsieur, quoi faut il renoncer a quelque chose? Urayement, reprit il, il le faut bien; & il le faut si neces|sairement, qu'il faut commencer par là. Je ne sçay si vous pourrez vous resoudre: mais je sçay bien que la sagesse l'habite point dans un corps sujet au pechè, comme elle n'entre point dans une ame prevenüe d'erreur ou de malice. Les sages ne vous admittront jamais a leur compagnie, si vous ne renoncez dés á present á un chose qui ne peut compatir avec la sagesse. Il faut, aujoûta-it t-il tout bas en se baissant a mon oreille, il faut renoncer á tout commerce charnel avec les femmes* 1.18."

On a di|ligent perusal of this book, I cannot find that POPE has borrowed any particular circum|stances relating to these spirits, but merely the general idea of their existence.

THESE machines are vastly superior to the allegorical personages of Boileau and Garth; not only on account of their novelty, but for the exquisite poetry, and oblique satire, which

they 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 over|looked and conducted, by the interposition of celestial agents.

IT is judicious to open the poem, by in|troducing the Guardian Sylph, warning Be|linda against some secret impending danger. The account which Ariel * 1.19 gives of the nature, office, and employment 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 tempers into different kinds of spirits, cannot be too much applauded.

† 1.20 The sprites of fiery Termagants, in flame Mount up, and take a salamander's name.

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 † 1.21 toilette, which suc|ceeds, is judiciously given in such magni|ficent turns, as dignify the offices performed at it. Belinda dressing is painted in as pom|pous a manner, as Achilles arming. The canto ends with a circumstance, artfully con|trived to keep this beautiful machinery in

the readers 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, * 1.22

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† 1.23, on which the poem turns, is rightly reserved to the second canto. The sacrifice of the baron to implore success to his undertaking, is ano|ther instance of our poet's judgement, in heightening the subject‡ 1.24. The succeeding scene of sailing upon the Thames is most gay and riant; and impresses the most pleasing pictures upon the imagination. Here too the machinery is again introduced with much propriety. Ariel summons his denizens

of air; who 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 glitt'ring 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. * 1.25

Ariel afterwards enumerates the functions and employments of the sylphs, in the fol|lowing manner: where some are supposed to delight in more gross, and others in more refined occupations.

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 wandring 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 suck the mists in grosser air below; Or dip their pinions in the painted bow: Or brew fierce tempests on the wintry main, Or o'er the glebe distill the kindly rain. * 1.26

Those who are fond of tracing images and sentiments 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 Shake|speare: let the impartial critic determine, which has the superiority 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 calld'st me up at midnight, to fetch dew

From the still-vext Bermoothes.—

Nor must I omit that exquisite song, in which his favorite 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 what 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 following gratifications for Titania's lover; and

they are fit only to be offered, to her lover, by a fairy-queen.

Be kind, and courteous to this gentleman, Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries. The honey-bags stral 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 pro|per employments to imaginary persons, in the foregoing 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 in any other author,

Our humbler province is to tend the fair, Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care; To save the powder from too rough a gale, Nor let th'imprison'd essences exhale;

To draw fresh colours from the vernal flow'rs; To steal from rainbows, e'er they drop in show'rs, A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs, Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs; Nay oft, in dreams invention we bestow, To change a flounce, or add a furbelow. * 1.27

THE seeming importance given to every part of female dress, each of which is com|mitted to the care and protection of a different sylph, with all the solemnity of a general appointing the several posts in his army, ren|ders the following passage admirable, on account of it's politeness, poignancy, 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, Momentilla, let the watch be thine; Do thou, Crispissa, tend the fav'rite lock; Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock. † 1.28

The celebrated raillery of Addison on the hoop-petticoat, has nothing equal to the fol|lowing

circumstance; which marks the diffi|culty of guarding 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, Though stiff with hoops, and arm'd with ribs of mail; Form a strong line about the silver bound, And guard the wide circumference around. * 1.29

RIDET HOC, INQUAM, VENUS IPSA; RIDENT SIMPLICES NYMPHAE, FERUS ET CUPIDO.

OUR poet still rises in the delicacy of his satire, where 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 undergo. Each of the delinquents,

Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins, Be stop'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 clog'd he beats his silver wings in vain; Or alum-styptics with contracting pow'r, Shrink his thin essence like a rivell'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. * 1.30

If Virgil has merited such perpetual commen|mendation for exalting his bees, by the ma|jesty and magnificence of his diction, does not POPE deserve 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 superiour. Both of them have elevated and enlivened their subjects, by such similes as the epic poets use; but as chess is a play of a far higher order than Ombre,

POPE had a more difficult task than Vida, to raise this his inferior subject, into equal dignity and gracefulness. Here again our poet artfully introduces his machinery:

Soon as she spreads her hand, th'aërial guard Descend, and sit on each important card; First Ariel perch'd upon a mattadore. * 1.31

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 imagination: and the whole game is con|ducted with great art and judgment. I question whether Hoyle could have played it better than Belinda. It is finely contrived that she should be victorious; 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 pleasantry of the story. In one of the passages where POPE has copied Vida, he has lost the propriety of the original,

which arises from the different colours of the men, at chess.

Thus, when dispers'd a routed army runs, &c. * 1.32

Non aliter, campis legio se buxea utrinque Composuit, duplici digestis ordine turmis, Adversisque ambae fulsere coloribus alae; Quam Gallorum acies, Alpino frigore lactea Corpora, si tendant albis in praelia signis, Aurorae populos contra, et Phaetonte perustos Insano Aethiopas, et nigri Memnonis alas. † 1.33

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 suc|ceeded in giving elegance to so familiar an object, as well as Virgil. The guardian spirits are again active, and importantly em|ployed;

Strait hover round the fair her airy band; ‡ 1.34 Some, as she sipp'd, the fuming liquor fann'd.

Then follows an instance of assiduity, fan|cied with great delicacy,

Some o'er her lap their careful plumes display'd, Trembling, and conscious of the rich brocade.

But nothing can excell the behaviour of the sylphs, and their wakeful sollicitude for their charge, when the danger grows more immi|nent, and the catastrophe approaches.

Swift to the lock a thousand sprites repair.

The methods by which they endeavoured to preserve her from the intended mischief, are such 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; * 1.35 And thrice they TWITCH'D the diamond in her ear, Thrice she look'd back, 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 ‡ 1.36 forfex was spread,

Ev'n then, before the fatal engine clos'd, * 1.37 A wretched sylph too fondly interpos'd;

Fate urg'd 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 griding sword, with discontinuous wound, Pass'd through him; but th'etherial substance clos'd Not long divisible. † 1.38 —

The parodies are some of the most exquisite parts of this poem. That which follows from the

"Dum juga montis aper,"

of Vir|gil, contains some of the most artful strokes of satire, and the most poignant ridicule ima|ginable.

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 honour, name and praise, shall live. * 1.39

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

"〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉"

of Homer, and is full of humour. The wife of the barber, talks in the language of Dido in her expostulations to her Aeneas, at the beginning of the second canto of the Lutrin. POPE's parodies of the speech of Sarpedon in Homer, canto v. verse 9, and of the description of Achilles's scepter, canto iv. verse 133, and the description of the scales of Jupiter from Ho|mer, Virgil, and Milton, canto v. verse 72, are judiciously introduced in their several places, are perhaps superiour to those Boi|leau 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 ridiculous images, with serious and important ones, is also, no small beauty to this species of poetry. As in the following passages, where real and imaginary distresses are coupled together.

Not youthful kings in battle seiz'd alive, * 1.40 Not scornful virgins who their charms survive, Not ardent lovers robb'd 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 superiour to a similar passage in the Dispensary, which POPE might have had in his eye;

At this the victors own such ecstasies, † 1.41 As Memphian priests if their Osiris sneeze; Or champions with Olympic clangor fir'd, Or simp'ring prudes with spritely Nantz 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 subject, 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 AFFECTATION, the effects of the vapour that hung over her palace, the imaginary diseases she occasions, the * 1.42 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 superiour 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! * 1.43

Nothing is more common in the poets than to introduce omens as preceeding some im|portant and dreadful event. Virgil has nobly described those that preceded the death of Dido. The rape of Belinda'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. † 1.44

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 en|deavours of the ladies to recover the hair. This battle is described, 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 pro|per imaginable: the lightening of the ladies eyes, intolerable frowns, a pinch of snuff, and a bodkin. The machinery is not forgot:

Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's height, Clapp'd his glad wings, and sate to view the fight. * 1.45

Again, when the snuff is given to the baron,

The gnomes direct, to ev'ry atom just, The pungent grains of titillating dust. † 1.46

Boileau and Garth have also each of them enlivened their pieces with a mock-fight. But Boileau has laid the scene of his action in a bookseller's shop; where the combatants happen to encounter each other by chance. This conduct is a little inartificial; but has

given the satyrist 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 * 1.47 battle of Boileau, which is excellent in its kind. The fight of the physicians, 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 warriours. They are armed, much in character, with caustics, emetics, and cathar|tics; with buckthorn, and steel-pills; with syringes, bed-pans and urinals. The execu|tion is exactly proportioned to the deadliness of such irresistible weapons; and the wounds inflicted, are suitable to the nature of each different instrument, said to inflict them. † 1.48

WE are now arrived to the grand catas|trophe 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 celebrated fiction of Ariosto; that all things lost on earth are treasured in the moon. How such a fiction can have place in an epic poem, it becomes the defenders of this extravagant and lawless rhapsodist to just|tify; but in a comic one, it appears with grace and consistency. The whole passage in Ariosto is full of wit and satire; for wit and satire were the chief and characteristical excellencies of Ariosto* 1.49. In this repository in the lunar sphere, says the SPRIGHTLY Italian, were to be found,

Le lachrime, e i sospiri de gli amanti, L'inutil' tempo, che si perde a gioco, E l'otio lungo d'huomini ignoranti, Vani disegni, che non han mai loco, I vani desiderii sono tanti, Che la piu parte ingombra di quel loco, Cio che in summa qua glu perdesti mai, La su saltendo ritrovar potrai. † 1.50

It is very remarkable, that the poet had the boldness to place among these imaginary trea|sures,

the famous deed of gift of Constantine to Pope Silvester,

"If, says he, I may be al|lowed to say this,"

Questo era il dono (se pero dir lece) Che Constantino al buon Silvestre fece.

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 detected and opposed the false claims, and mischievous usurpations, of superstition and slavery. Nor can this be wondered at, since these two are the greatest enemies, not only to all true happiness, but to all true genius.

THE denouement, as a pedantic disciple of Bossu would call it, of this poem, is well con|ducted. What is become of this important LOCK OF HAIR? It is made a constellation with that of Berenice, so celebrated by Cal|limachus. As it rises to heaven,

The sylphs behold it kindling as it flies, * 1.51 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 it's honourable transfor|mation.

IN reading the Lutrin, I have always been struck with the impropriety of so serious a conclusion, as Boileau has given to so ludi|crous 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 arch|bishop of Paris in his pontifical robes, in an harlequin entertainment.

POPE does not desert his favorite Lock, even after it becomes a constellation; and the uses he assigns to it are indeed admirable.

This the beau monde shall from the mall survey, * 1.52 And hail with music it's 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 Louis, and the fall of Rome.

This is at once, DULCE LOQUI, and RIDERE DECORUM.

UPON the whole, I hope it will not be thought an exaggerated panegyric to say, that the RAPE OF THE LOCK, is the BEST SA|TIRE extant; that it contains the truest and liveliest picture of modern life; and that the subject is of a more elegant nature, as well as more artfully conducted, than that of any other heroi-comic poem. POPE here appears in the light of a man of gallantry, and of a thorough knowledge of the world; and in|deed, he had nothing, in his carriage and deportment, of that affected singularity, which has induced some men of genius to despise, and depart from, the established rules of polite|ness and civil life. For all poets have not prac|ticed the sober and rational advice of Boileau.

Que les vers ne soient pas votre eternel emploi: Cultivez vos amis, soyez homme de foi. C'est peu d'etre agréeable et charmant dans un livre; Il fait savoir encore, et converser, et vivre. * 1.53

OUR nation can boast also, of having produced one or two more poems of the bur|lesque kind, that are excellent; particularly the SPLENDID SHILLING, that admirable copy of the solemn irony of Cervantes; who is the father and unrivalled model of the true mock-heroic: and the MUSCIPULA, written with the purity of Virgil, whom the author so perfectly under|stood, and with the pleasantry of Lucian: to which I cannot forbear adding, the SCRIB|LERIAD of Mr. Cambridge† 1.54.

IF some of the most candid among the French critics begin to acknowledge, that

they have produced nothing in point of SUBLIMITY and MAJESTY equal to the Para|dise 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 prin|cipally appears a POET; in which he has dis|played 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.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Lib. i. pag. 78. In Roma, per il Chracas, 1698.
• † 1.2

  E tal Poesia puo diffinirsi, e chiamarsi, immitazione d'azione seria fatto con riso. Crescembini, ibid.
• * 1.3

  Pag. 368. lib. 5.
• * 1.4

  Altered afterwards to a Barber.
• † 1.5

  Petersburg.
• * 1.6

  Compare with this the account of the Canon fed by his House-keeper, in Gil Blas
• † 1.7

  Chant. 1.
• † 1.8

  Warton's ISIS.
• * 1.9

  Chant. 1.
• * 1.10

  Chant. 4.
• * 1.11

  Chant. 2.
• * 1.12

  Cant. 1.
• † 1.13

  Chant. 2.
• ‡ 1.14

  Boileau says admirably of his phisician, Chant. 4. Art. Poet.

  Le rhume a son aspect se change en pleurisie; Et par lui la migraine est bientôt phrenesie.
• * 1.15

  Cant. 6.
• † 1.16

  Cant. 4.
• * 1.17

  Melanges d'Histoire et de Literature. By Dom. Noel Dargonne, disguised under the name of Vigneul Marville. Tom. prem. pag. 275. edit. Roterdam, 1700.
• * 1.18

  LE COMTE DE GABALIS, ou ENTRETIENS sur les Sciences secretes. Second ENTRETIEN, pag. 30. A Amsterdam, 1671.
• * 1.19

  Cant. 1. ver. 27. to ver. 119.
• † 1.20

  These images have been lately expressed in Latin, with much purity and elegance; and deserve to be here inserted.

  Mortua lascivum resoluta liquescit in ignem, Aut abit in molles singula nympha notos: Aethereosque trahens haustus, tenuissima turba, Versat ad aestivum lucida membra jubar. Gaudet adhuc circum molles operosa puellas Versari, et veneres suppeditare novas. Curat uti dulces commendent oscula risus, Purior ut sensim prodeat ore rubor: Ne quatiat comptos animosior aura capillos, Nec faedet pulcras pustula saeva genas: Neve recens maculâ violetur purpura pallî, Excidat aut niveo pendula gemma sinu. Corpora nympharum vacuas tenuentur in auras; At studia in memori pectore prisca manent.Carm. Quadrages. Vol. 2. Oxon. 1748. pag. 32.
• † 1.21

  Cant. 1. ver. 121.
• * 1.22

  Cant. 1. ver. 141.
• † 1.23

  Cant. 2. ver. 21.
• ‡ 1.24

  Cant. 2. ver. 37.
• * 1.25

  Cant. 2. ver. 59.
• * 1.26

  Cant. 2. ver, 75.
• * 1.27

  Cant. 2. Ver. 91.
• † 1.28

  Cant. 2. Ver. 111.
• * 1.29

  Cant. 2. Ver. 117.
• * 1.30

  Cant. 2. Ver. 122.
• * 1.31

  Cant. 3. Ver. 31.
• * 1.32

  Cant. 3. Ver. 81.
• † 1.33

  Vidae Seacchia Ludus, Ver. 74, &c.
• ‡ 1.34

  Cant. 3. Ver. 113.
• * 1.35

  Cant. 3. Ver. 136.
• ‡ 1.36

  Observe the many periphrasis's, and uncommon appel|lations, POPE has used for Scissars, which would sound too vul|gar,—"Fatal Engine,—"Forfex,—"Sheers,—"Meeting-Points, &c.
• * 1.37

  Cant. 3. Ver. 153.
• † 1.38

  Paradise Lost, Book 6. Ver. 330.
• * 1.39

  Cant. 3. Verse 165.
• * 1.40

  Cant. 4. Ver. 3.
• † 1.41

  Cant. 5. ad calc.
• * 1.42

  Especially when he adjures the goddess by an account of his services, Cant. iv. Ver. 72.

  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 lapdog 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.
• * 1.43

  Cant. 4. Ver. 156.
• † 1.44

  Cant. 4. Ver. 161.
• * 1.45

  Cant. 5. Ver. 53.
• † 1.46

  Ibid. Ver. 85.
• * 1.47

  Chant. 5.
• † 1.48

  Cant. 5.
• * 1.49

  For the best and most judicious account I know of the ge|nius of Ariosto, see Warton's OBSERVATIONS on the FAIRY QUEEN of Spenser. Consult particularly pages 3. 11. 12. 151. 158. of that work, where his merits are adjusted impartially.
• † 1.50

  Orlando Furioso. Cant. 34.
• * 1.51

  Cant. 5. Ver. 130.
• * 1.52

  Cant. 5. Ver. 133.
• * 1.53

  L'Art Poetique. Chant. 4.
• † 1.54

  This learned and ingenious writer hath made a new remark, in his preface, worth examination and attention. He says, that in first reading the four celebrated mock heroic poems, he per|ceived 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 Probability, as the author led his hero into that species of absurdity only, which it was natural for an ima|gination heated with the continual reading of books of chivalry to fall into. That the want of attention to this was the funda|mental 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?