The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume C, Appunti di Letteratura Inglese

Scarica The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume C e più Appunti in PDF di Letteratura Inglese solo su Docsity! 2430 | DANIEL DEFOE He seemed to be concerned to think that I should take him in that man. ner. He assured me that I misunderstood him; that he had more manners a, well as more kindness for me, and more justice, than to reproach me witk what he had been the aggressor in, and had surprised me into; that What he spoke referred to my words above, that the woman, if she thought fit, mighy entertain a man, as a man did a mistress; and that I seemed to mention tha way of living as justifiable, and setting it as a lawful thing, and in the Place of matrimony. . Well, we strained some compliments upon those points, not worth repeat. ing; and I added, I supposed when he got to bed to me he thought himself sure of me; and indeed, in the ordinary course of things, after he had lain with me he ought to think so; but that, upon the same foot of argument which I had discoursed with him upon, it was just the contrary; and when a woman had been weak enough to yield up the last point before wedlock, it would be adding one weakness to another to take the man afterwards, to pin down the shame of it upon herself all the days of her life, and bind herself to live all her time with the only man that could upbraid her with it; that in yielding at first, she must be a fool, but to take the man is to be sure to be called fool; that to resist a man is to act with courage and vigor, and to cast off the reproach, which, in the course of things, drops out of knowledge and dies. The man goes one way and the woman another, as fate and the circum- stances of living direct; and if they keep one another's counsel, the folly is heard no more of. “But to take the man,” says I, “is the most preposterous thing in nature, and (saving your presence) is to befoul one's self, and live always in the smell of it. No, no,” added I; “after a man has lain with me as xa mistress, he ought never to lic_with me as a wife; that's not only preserv- ing the crime in memory, but it is recording it in the family. If the woman marries the man afterwards, she bears the reproach of it to the last hour: if her husband is not a man of a hundred thousand, he some time or other upbraids her with it. If he has children, they fail not one way or other.to hear of it. If the childrèn are virtuous, they do their mother the justice to hate her for it; if they are wicked, they give her the mortification of doing the like, and giving her for the example. On the other hand, if the man and the woman part, there is an end of the crime and an end of the clamor. Time wears out the memory of it; or a woman may remove® but a few streets, and she soon outlives it, and hears no more of it.” He confounded at this discourse, and told me he could not say but.I {faoright inthemalnThanas torio part relating to managing estates, it was arguing à la cavalier;” it was in some sense right, if the woman were able to carry it on so, but that in general the sex were not capable of it; their heads were not turned for it, and they had better choose a person capable and hon- est, that knew how to do them justice as women, as well as to love them; and that then the trouble was all taken off of their hands. I told him it was a dear way of purchasing their ease; for very often when the trouble was taken off of their hands, so was their money too; and that | thought it was far safer for the sex not to be afraid of the trouble, but to be really afraid of their money; that if nobody was trusted, nobody would be deceived; and the staff in their own hands was the best security in the world. 6. Move away: 7. Cavalierly, rashly (French). ANNE FINCH, COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA | 2431 He replied, that I had started a new thing in the world; that however I might support it by subtle reasoning, yet it was a way of arguing that was contrary to the general practice, and that he confessed he was much disap- pointed in it; that had he known I would have made such a use of it, he would never have attempted what he did, which he had no wicked design in, resolving to make me reparation, and that he was very sorry he had been so unhappy;* that he was very sure he should never upbraid me with it hereaf- ter, and had so good an opinion of me as to believe I did not suspect him; but seeing I was positive in refusing him, notwithstanding what had passed, he had not! ut secure me From reproach by going back again to Paris, that so, according to my.ov vuing, | nc - vay of arguing, it might die out of memory, and” I might never meet with it again to my disadvantage. o &tetnveifol i mr E 1724 8. Troublesome. ANNE FINCH, COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA 1661-1720 orn into an ancient country family, Anne Kingsmill became a maid of honor at the court of Charles II. There she met Colonel Heneage Finch; in 1684 they mar- ried. During the short reign of James II they prospered at court, but at the king's fall in 1688 they were forced to retire, eventually settling on a beautiful family estate at Eastwell, in Kent, near the south coast of England. Here Colonel Finch became, in 1712, earl of Winchilsea, and here Anne Finch wrote most of her poems, influ- enced, she said, by “the solitude and security of the country,” and by “objects natu- rally inspiring soft and poetical imaginations.” Her Miscellany Poems on Several Occasions, Written by a Lady were published in 1713. One poem, “The Spleen,” a description of the mysterious melancholic illness from which she and many other fashionable people suffered, achieved some fame; Pope seems to refer to it when he invokes the goddess Spleen in The Rape of the Lock. But Finch's larger reputation began only a century later, when Wordsworth praised her for keeping her eye on external nature and for a style “often admirable, chaste, tender, and vigorous.” Three things conspired to keep Finch's poems in the shade: she was an aristocrat, her nature was retiring, and she was a woman. Any one of these might have made her shrink from exposing herself to the jeers that still, at the turn of the century, greeted 2466 | JONATHAN SWIFT nvolvement in public affairs, Swift seems to stand apart from his con. temporaries—a striking figure among the statesmen of the time, Writer who toy. ered above others by reason of his imagination, mordant wit, and ‘emotional intensity, He has been called a misanthrope, a hater of humanity, and Gulliver's Travels hay been considered an expression of savage misanthropy. It is true that Swift pro- claimed himself a misanthrope in a letter to Pope, declaring that, though he loved individuals, he hated “that animal called man” in general and offering a new defini. tion of the species not as animal rationale (“a rational animal”) but as merely animal rationis capax (“an animal capable of reason”). This, he declaredì, is the “great foun- dation” on which his “misanthropy” was erected. Swift was stating not his hatred of his fellow creatures but his antagonism to the current optimistic view that human nature is essentially good. To the “philanthropic” flattery that sentimentalism and Deistic rationalism were paying to human nature, Swift opposed a more ancient view: that human nature is deeply and permanently flawed and that we can do noth- ing with or for the human race until we recognize its moral and intellectual limita- tions. In his epitaph he spoke of the “fierce indignation” that had torn his heart, an indignation that found superb expression in his greatest satires. It was provoked by the constant spectacle of creatures capable of reason, and therefore of reasonable conduct, steadfastly refusing to live up to their capabilities. Swift is a master of prose. He defined a good style as “proper words in proper places,” a more complex and difficult saying than at first appears. Clear, simple, con- crete diction; uncomplicated syntax; and economy and conciseness of language mark all his writings. His is a style that shuns ornaments and singularity of all kinds, a style that grows more tense and controlled the more fierce the indignation that it is called on to express. The virtues of his prose are those of his poetry, which shocks us with its hard look at the facts of life and the body. It is unpoetic poetry, devoid of, indeed as often as not mocking at, inspiration, romantic love, cosmetic beauty, easily assumed literary attitudes, and conventional poetic language. Like the prose, it is predomi- nantly satiric în purpose, but not without its moments of comedy and lighthearted- ness, though most often written less to divert than to agitate the reader. A Description of a City Shower Careful observers may foretell the hour (By sure prognostics) when to dread a shower: While rain depends,! the pensive cat gives o'er Her frolics, and pursues her tail no more. s Returning home at night, you'1l find the sink° sewer Strike your offended sense with double stink. If you be wise, then go not far to dine; You']l spend in coach hire more than save in wine. A coming shower your shooting corns presage, 10 Old achés throb, your hollow tooth will rage. Sauntering in coffeehouse is Dulman seen; He damns the climate and complains of spleen.? Meanwhile the South, rising with dabbled wings, A sable cloud athwart the welkin flings, 18. That swilled more liquor than it could contain, 1. Impends, is imminent. An example of elevated diction used frequently throughout the poe 2. The English tendeney to melancholy (“the " climate vas often attribute to the rainy clima. ”: a type name (from "dull man"), ‘Petulant” or “Witwoud. JOSEPH ADDISON:AND' SIR RICHARD STEELE | 2639 gucha perpetual sense of misfortunes as they have since gone through by the oppression of landlords, the impossibility of paying rent without money or trade, the want of common sustenance, with neither house nor clothes to cover them from the inclemencies of the weather, and the most inevitable prospect of entailing the like or greater miseries upon their breed forever. ] profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I have not the least personal interest in endeavoring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive than the public good of my country, by advancing our trade, provid- ing for infants, relieving the poor, and giving some pleasure to the rich. I have no children by which I can propose to get a single penny; the youngest being nine years old, and my wife past childbearing. 1729 JOSEPH ADDISON and SIR RICHARD STEELE 1672-1719 1672-1729 he friendship of Joseph Addison and Richard Steele began when they were schoolboys together in London. Their careers ran parallel courses and brought them for a while into fruitful collaboration. Addison, although charming when among friends, was by nature reserved, calculating, and prudent. Steele was impul- sive and rakish when young (but ardently devoted to his beautiful wife), often imprudent, and frequently in want of money. Addison never stumbled in his prog- ress to financial security, a late marriage to a widowed countess, and a successful political career; walking less surely, Steele experienced many vicissitudes and faced serious financial problems during his last years. Both men attended Oxford, where Addison took his degree, won a fellowship, and gained a reputation for Latin verse; the less scholarly Steele left the university before earning a degree to take a commission in the army. For a while he cut a dashing figure in London, even, to his horror, seriously wounding a man in a duel. Both men enjoyed the patronage of the great Whig magnates; and except during the last four years of Queen Anne's reign, when the Tories were in the ascendancy, they were generously treated. Steele edited and wrote the London Gazette, an official newspa- per that normally appeared twice a week, listing government appointments and reporting domestic and foreign news—much like a modern paper. He served in Par- liament, was knighted by George I, and later became manager of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. Addison held more important positions: he was secretary to the lord lieutenant of Ireland and later an undersecretary of state; finally, toward the end of his life, he became secretary of state. Both men wrote plays: Addison's Cato, a frigid and very “correct” tragedy, had great success in 1713, and Steele's later plays at Drury Lane (especially The Conscious Lovers, 1722) were instrumental in establish- ing the popularity of sentimental comedy throughout the cighteenth century. Steele's debts and Addison's loss of office in 1710 drove them to journalistic enter- Prises, through which they developed one of the most characteristic types of cighteenth-century literature, the periodical essay. Steele's experience as gazetteer had involved him in journalism and, in need of money, in 1709 he launched the te y_ymm___mnmq“1}1._r__n"reezoee_——_—&6 2640 | JOSEPH ADDISON AND SIR RICHARD STEELE Tatler under the pseudonym Isaac Bickerstaff. i Sole Di attract the larges lic sible audience: the title was a bid for female readers, and the mixture of news wi personal reflections soon became popular in coffechouses and ee breakfast tables The paper appeared three times a week fer pull H705 co Janna ti Da Steele wro by far the greater number of Tatlers, but Addison coni pied li ‘ul ly as did othe: friends. When the Spectator began its run two mont n si Si e atler, the ney periodical drew on and expanded the readership Sie ne tene ei A influenceg. The Spectator appeared daily except Sunday from March 1711 to December 17), (and was briefly resumed by Addison in 17 14). It was the joint undertaking of the two friends, although it was dominated by Addison. Both the Spectator and the Tatler had many imitators in their own day and throughout the rest of the century. There was, Female Tatler and a Female Spectator, as well as Samuel Johnson's Rambler and Idle, and Oliver Goldsmith's brief Bee. | ; The periodical writing of Addison and Steele is remarkable for its comprehensive attention to diverse aspects of English life—good manners, daily happenings in London, going to church, shopping, investing in the stock market, the fascinations of trade and commerce, proper gender roles and relations, the personality types found in society, the town's offerings of high and low entertainment, tastes in lit- erature and luxury goods, philosophical speculations—and the seamless way all were shown to be elements of a single vast, agreeable world. In this unifying spirit, both Steele and Addison set the divisive political battles of the day, so vigorously fought in other periodicals and newspapers, at a distance: they portray the ardor for political dispute more as a personal quirk than as a provocation to true civil unrest. Less formal and didactic than the essays of Francis Bacon, less personal than those of Charles Lamb and William Hazlitt in the next century, these essays promote morality among their readers by praising and enacting sociability and set standards of good taste and polite behavior with a light but firm and unwavering grace. They thereby sought to establish a new social-literary ethos transcending the narrowness of Puritan morality and the exorbitance of the fashionable court culture of the last century. In the Spectator, Steele and especially Addison set out to break down the distine- tion between educating their readers and entertaining them with winning charac- ters, vivid scenes, and even playfully visionary allegories. In the second number, Steele introduces us to the members of Mr. Spectator's Club: a man about town, a student of law and literature, a churchman, a soldier, a Tory country squire, and— interestingly enough—a London merchant. The development of these characters shows how the very manner in which the Spectator makes distinctions tends to smooth away conflict. As a Whig, Steele sympathized with the new moneyed class in London and evidently intended to pit the merchant Sir Andrew Freeport, the repre- sentative of the new order, against the Tory Sir Roger de Coverley, representative 0! the one passing away. Addison, however, preferred to present Sir Roger in episode set în town and in country as an endearing, eccentric character, often absurd but always amiable and innocent. He is a prominent ancestor of a long line of similar characters in fiction in the following two centuries. Addison's scholarly interesté broadened the material to include not only social criticism but the popularization current philosophical and scientific notions. He wrote important critical papes dis tinguishing true and false Wit; an extended series of Saturday essays evaluatins Paradise Lost; and an influential series on “the pleasures of the imagination,” whi° treated the visual effect of beautiful, “great” and uncommon objects in nature n art. Altogether, the Spectator fulfilled his ambition (outlined in “The Aims of ("© Spectator”) to be considered an agreeable modern Si The best description of Addison: PR 4 Addison: ui ‘ pron. o. Îson's prose is Samuel Johnson's in his Life of Ad His prose is the model of the middle sty n lie! occasions not groveling; pure without seru labo ration; always equable, and always easy, ces: le; on grave subjects not formal, © ulosity, and exact without apparent © without glowing words or pointed sent© | DDISON AND SIR RICHARD STEELE JOSEPH A 2650 | The bustle of the Royal Exchange in the 18th century. Etching 1788a by Francesco Bartolozzi. There is no place in the town which I so much love to frequent as the Royal Exchange.” It gives me a secret satisfaction, and in some measure gratifies my vanity as I am an Englishman, to see so rich an assembly of countrymen and foreigners consulting together upon the private business of mankind, and making this metropolis a kind of emporium for the whole earth. I must confess I look upon High Change? to be a great council in which all consider able nations have their representatives. Factors* in the trading world are what ambassadors are in the politic world; they negotiate affairs, conclude treaties, and maintain a good correspondence between those wealthy societies of men that are divided from one another by seas and oceans or live on the different extremities of a continent. I have often been pleased to hear disputes adjusted between an inhabitant of Japan and an alderman of London, or to see a sub- ject of the Great Mogul entering into a league with one of the Czar of Mus covy5 I am infinitely delighted in mixing with these several ministers of languance rn distingue by their different walks® and different $ 1 am justled among a body of Armenians; sometimes Sometimes make one in a group of Dutch or Frenchman at different times; or rather fany I am lost in a crowd of Jews; and men. I am a Dane, Swede, ed in 1570, its first buildings were bumed n at Fire of 1666: Addison discusse Exchange as it was rebuilt in 1669. ” 3. The time of day when trading is most act ® Agents who buy and sell for other people», 5- Russia. “The Great Mogul”: European Pons bus ‘or the emperor of Delhi, whose domini around two hundraj -—‘*‘ePded throughout most of Hindustan: AnÎes Were Asst, 6. Ways of life. assembled. ; iS near the Bank of England: nessmen gathered and shops and private comp  AD DISON: THE ROYAL EXCHANGE | 2651 d philosopher,” who upon being asked what countryman he PT fed that n sen of the world. ; Though I very frequently visit this busy multitude of people, I am known ro nobody ere Due Di eni a Andrew, who often smiles upon me as he sees ME bust ingin e To 3'Dut at the same time connives® at my pres- noe without taking any further notice of me. There is indeed a merchant of Egypt who just knows me by sight, having formerly remitted me some oney 10 Grand Cairo; but as I am not versed in the modern Coptic,° our conferences go no further than a bow and a grimace. This grand scene of business gives me an infinite variety of solid and sub- stantial ‘entertainments. As I am a great lover of mankind, my heart naturally averflows with pleasure at the sight of a prosperous and happy multitude, insomuch that at many public solemnities I cannot forbear expressing my joy withtears that have stolen down my cheeks. For this reason I am wonderfully delighted to see such a body of men thriving in their own private fortunes and at the same time promoting the public stock; or in other words, raising estates for their own families by bringing into their country whatever is want- ing, and carrying out of it whatever is superfluous. Nature seems to have taken a particular care to disseminate her blessings among the different regions of the world with an eye to this mutual inter- course and traffic among mankind, that the natives of the several parts of the globe might have a kind of dependence upon one another and be united together by their common interest. Almost every degree! produces something peculiar to it. The food often grows in one country and the sauce in another. The fruits of Portugal are corrected by the products of Barbados; the infusion of a China plant sweetened with the pith of an Indian cane. The Philippick Islands? give a flavor to our European bowls. The single dress of a woman of quality is often the product of an hundred climates. The muff and the fan come together from the different ends of the earth. The scarf is sent from the torrid zone and the tippet? from beneath the pole. The brocade petticoat rises out of the mines of Peru and the diamond necklace out of the bowels of Indostan.* If we consider our own country tie benefits and advantages of commerce, what a barr ofcarth falls to our share! Natural historians tell us that no fruit grows originally among us besides hips ‘and haws, acorns and pig-nuts, with other delicacies oFthe lîke nature; that our climate of itself and without the assis- tances of art can] no further advances towards a plum than to a sloe and carries an apple to no greater a perfection than a crab;’ that our melons, our peaches, our figs, ‘our apricots, and cherries are strangers among us, imported in different ages and naturalized in our English gardens; and that they would all degenerate and fall away into the trash of our own country, if they were wholly neglected by the planter and left te the mercy of our sun n | soil. Nor has traffic more enriched our vegetable world than it has in its natural pro 3A cape ot other hanging part of a woman dress 4. India. 7. Di È Nin.” the Cynic (4th century B:C.E.). “aNguage of the C. u Ù n ari bid” «al of Egyptian 3° Crabapple. “Hips and haws rosehips and Chie dere, a di PP'Sî he hawthorn tree. “Pig-nuts”: or Here, a degree of latitude, hence a particula che berries of the haw 8 odi articular ERE tenute, the tuber of Bunium flexuostnt i 6. Trade. * The Philippines oN AND SIR RICHARD STEELE DIS 2652 | JOSEPH AD us. Our ships are laden wj anno ano, d with spices, and no the our tables are store $ ) vils, an 1 roms are filled with pyramids of China and adorned With the wines; our ro‘ ing/s draught comes to us from the re workmanship of pan ou e rair our bodies by the drugs.of America ary est corners of the sei Indian canopies. My friend Sir Andrew calls thy repose ourselves u care gardens; the Spice-Islands our hot-beds; the Par vineyards of France $e and the Chinese our potters.. Nature indeed Ti ire tore necessaries of life, but traffic gives us areat var of what is useful, and at the same time supplies us with every thing Frhis our Cippi convenient and ornamental. Nor is it the least part of this our happiness tha; whilst we enjoy the remotest product: s of the north and south, we are free from those extremities of weather which give them birth; that our eyes are refreshed with the green fields of Britain at the same time that our palates - are feasted with fruits that rise between the tropics. n For these reasons there are no more useful members in a commonwealth than merchants. They knit mankind together in a mutual intercourse of good offices, distribute the gifts of nature, find work for the poor, wealth to the rich, and magnificence to the great. Our English merchant converts the tin of his own country into gold and exchanges his wool for rubies. The Mahom- etans are clothed in our British manufacture and_the inhabitants of the frozen zone warmed with the fleeces of our sheep. When I have been upon the Change, I have often fancied one of our old kings standing in person where he is represented in effigy, and looking down upon the wealthy concourse of people with which that place is every day filled. In this case, how would he be surprised to hear all the languages of Europe spoken in this little spot of his former dominions; and to see so many private men, who in his time would have been the vassals of some powerful baron, negotiating like princes for greater sums of money than were formerly to be met with in the Royal Treasury! Trade, without enlarg- _ing the British territories, has given us a kind of additional empire. It has multiplied the number of the rich, made our landed estates infinitely more” valuable than.they.were formerly, and added to them an accession of other estates as valuable as the lands themselves. i improved the whole face-0! harvest of every climate; THE PERIODICAL Essay: IDEAS ApbISON: [Wit: True, False, Mixed] The Spectator, No. 62, Friday, March 11, 1711 Scribendi recte sapere est et principium et fons.! HORACE, Ars Poetica 309 Mr. Locke has an admirable ment, whereby he ende talents of the same pe ‘AVors reflection Upon the difference of wit and judg ta di ci show the reason Why they are not always !î° on. His words are as follow: “And hence, perhaP* I. Discernment is the source: © and fount of writiny iting well (Lati, Latin).  The Beggars Opera, act 3, scene 11, William Hogarth, The highwayman Macheath, in leg irons, stands at the center, flanked by the women between whom he cannot choose. To the left, Lucy kneels before the jailer Lockit; to the right, Polly kneels before her father, Peachum. In the rear, a group of prisoners waits for its cue But the setting is not so much a prison as the theater; spectators are seated on each side of the stage. Hogarth connects the audience with the actors just as The Beggars Opera does, suggesting corruption “through all the employments of life.” Behind Peachum, John Gay confers with his producer, John Rich. Below them, seated at the far right, the duke of Bolton (note his Star of the Garter) exchanges a rapt gaze with Polly: a satyr points down at him. On openine night the duke fell i, love vith the actor who played Polly, Lavinia Fenton. He returned every night, until she became his mistress—and, two decades later, his 4 ife. Tare GALLERY, ONpoN / ART ResouRCE, NY. ALEXANDER POPE | 2665 ble world, and is that link in the chain of beings which has been often invio {he nexus utriusque mundi.” So that he who, in one respect, is asso- germ® with angels and archangels, may look upon a Being of infinite per- ciat® n as his father, and the highest order of spirits as his brethren, may, in fe her respect, say t0 corruption, “Thou art my father,” and to the worm, an art my mother and my sister.”8 01 th binding together of both worlds (Latin). 8. Job 17.14. 2 The ALEXANDER POPE 1688-1744 e is the only important writer of his generation who was solely a s. Because he could not, as a Roman Catholic, attend a university, luded from the sort of patronage that was bestowed by statesmen on many writers during the reign of Anne. This disadvantage he turned into a positive good, for the translation of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, which te undertook for profit as well as for fame, gave him ample means to live the life of an independent suburban gentleman. After 1718 he lived hospitably in his villa by he Thames at Twickenham (then pronounced Tit nam), entertaining his friends and converting his five acres of land into a diminutive landscape garden. Almost exactly a century earlier, William Shakespeare had earned enough to retire to a country estate at Stratford—but he had been an actor-manager as well as a playwright; Pope was the first English writer to build a lucrative, lifelong career by publishing his works. Il health plagued Pope almost from birth. Crippled early by tuberculosis of the bone, he never grew taller than four and a half feet. In later life he suffered from violent headaches and required constant attention from servants. But Pope did not allow his infirmities to hold him back; he was always a master at making the best of what he had. Around 1700 his father, a well-to-do, retired London merchant, moved to a small property at Binfield in Windsor Forest. There, in rural surround- ings, young Pope completed his education by reading whatever he pleased, “like a y gathering flowers in the woods and fields just as they fall in his way”; and there, encouraged by his father, he began to write verse. He was already an accomplished Poet in his teens; no English poet has ever been more precocious. Lopes first striking success as a poet was An Essay 0» Criticism. (1711), which ce him Joseph Addison's approval and an intemperate personal attack from the tic John Dennis, who was angered by a casual reference to himself in the poem. di iena of the Lock, both in its original shorter version of 1712 and in its more guoge be version of 1714, proved the author a master not only of metrics and of lan- ist but also of witty, urbane satire, In Av Essay on Criticism, Pope had excelled all lecessors in writing a didactic poem after the example of Horace; in the Rape, e S ad Written the most brilliant mock epic in the language. But there was another r concern with natural beauty and love. The Windsor Forest (1713; much of it was writ- d descriptive passages of ideally ordered The “Elegy to the Memory Alexander Popi \ man of letter: e or hold public office, he was exe din e Pagni Pope southful poetry, a tende ten ca 1709), his first publication, and Nature. ni abound in visual imagery an * they remind us that Pope was an amateur painter. i  79 2666 | ALEXANDER POPE of an Unfortunate Lady” and Eloisa to Abelard, published in the collected p 1717, dwell on the pangs of unhappy lovers (Pope himself never married), fp" of the long task of translating Homer, the “dull duty” of editing Shakespeare a O middle age, his dedication to ethical and satirical poetry did not make leg putin keen sense of beauty in nature and art. © his Pope's early poetry brought him to the attention of literary men, with hom began to associate in the masculine world of coffechouse and tavern, where ho n to play the rake. Between 1706 and 1711 he came to know, among many others wi liam Congreve: William Walsh, the critic and poet; and Richard Steele and |}, Addison. As it happened, all were Whigs. Pope could readily ignore politics in si excitement of taking his place among the leading wits of the town. But after the fil of the Whigs in 1710 and the formation of the Tory government under Robert Harle, (later the carl of Oxford) and Henry St. John (later Viscount Bolingbroke), pu? loyalties bred bitterness among the wits as among the politicians. By 1712, Pope had made the acquaintance of another group of writers, all Tories, who were soon his intimate friends: Jonathan Swift, by then the close associate of Harley and St. John and the principal propagandist for their policies; Dr. John Arbuthnot, Physician to the queen, a learned scientist, a wit, and a man of humanity and integrity; John Gay, the poet, who in 1728 was to create The Beggar' Opera, the greatest theatrical sue cess of the century; and the poet Thomas Parnell. Through them he became the friend and admirer of Oxford and later the intimate of Bolingbroke. In 1714 this group, at the instigation of Pope, formed a club for satirizing all sorts of false learn- ing. The friends proposed to write jointly the biography of a learned fool whom they named Martinus Scriblerus (Martin the Scribbler), whose life and opinions would be a running commentary on educated nonsense. Some amusing episodes were later rewritten and published as the Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus (1741). The real importance of the club, however, is that it fostered a satiric temper that would be expressed in such mature works of the friends as Gulliver Travels, The Beggars Opera, and The Dunciad. “The life of a wit is a warfare on earth,” said Pope, generalizing from his own epe rience. His very success as a poet (and his astonishing precocity brought him success very early) made enemies who were to plague him in pamphlets, verse satires, and squibs in the journals throughout his entire literary career. He was attacked for his writings, his religion, and his physical deformity. Although he smarted under the jibes of his detractors, he was a fighter who struck back, always giving better than he got. Pope's literary warfare began in 1713, when he ‘announced his intention of trans lating the Iliad and sought subscribers to a deluxe edition of the work. Subscribers came in droves, but the Whig writers who surrounded Addison at Button's Coffe® House did all they could to discredit the venture. The eventual success of the n published installment of his Hliad in 1715 did not obliterate Pope's resentment agail Addison and his “little senate”; and he took his revenge in the damaging ponti Addison (under the name of Atticus), which was later included in the Epistle 10! Arbuthnot (1735), lines 193-214. The not unjustified attacks on Popes edit Shakespeare (1725) by the learned Shakespeare scholar Lewis Theobald (Pope? gr spelled and pronounced the name “Tibbald” in his satires) led to Theobald5 4PP5., ance as king of the dunces in The Dunciad (1728). In this impressive poem stigmatized his literary enemies as agents of all that he disliked and feared i tendencies of his time—the vulgarization of taste and the arts consequent 0" rapid growth of the reading public and the development of journalism, mag" and other popular and cheap publications, which spread scandal, sensationalis® 5, political partisanship—in short the new commercial spirit of the nation that ‘° rupting not only the arts but, as Pope saw it, the national life itself. iscts in8" In the 1730s Pope moved on to philosophical, ethical, and political sube rig Essay on Man, the Epistles to Several Persons, and the Imitations of Horace. The 5 {ol of George I and George II appeared to him, as to Swift and other Tories: ® P° | zines AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM, PARTI | 2669 hort, no other poet of the century can equal Pope in the range of his materials, 1 fversity of his poetic styles, and the wizardry of his technique. the An Essay OD Criticism There is no pleasanter introduction to the canons oftaste in the English Augustan age than Pope's An Essay on Criticism. As Addison aid in his review în Spectator 253, it assembles the “most known and most received observations on the subject of literature and criticism.” Pope was attempting to do for his time what Horace, in his Art of Poetry, and what Nicolas Boileau (French poet, of the age of Louis XIV), in his L'Art Poétique, had done for theirs. Horace is Pope model not only for principles of criticism but also for style, especially in the simple, conversational language and the tone of well-bred ease. In framing his critical creed, Pope did not try for novelty: he wished merely to give to generally accepted doctrines pleasing and memorable expression and make them useful to modern poets. Here one meets the key words of neoclassical criticism: wit, Nature, ancients, rules, and genius. Wit in the poem is a word of many meanings—a clever remark or the person who makes it, a conceit, liveliness of mind, inventiveness, fancy, genius, a genius, and poetry itself, among others. Nature is an equally ambigu- ous word, meaning not “things out there” or “the outdoors” but most important that which is representative, universal, permanent in human experience as opposed to the idiosyncratic, the individual, the temporary. In line 21, Nature comes close to mean- ing “intuitive knowledge.” In line 52, it means that half-personified power manifested in the cosmic order, which in its modes of working is a model for art. The reverence felt by most Augustans for the great writers of ancient Greece and Rome raised the question how far the authority of these ancients extended. Were their works to be received as models to be conscientiously imitated? Were the rules received from them or deducible from their works to be accepted as prescriptive laws or merely conve- nient guides? Was individual genius to be bound by what has been conventionally held to be Nature, by the authority of the ancients, and by the legalistic pedantry of rules? Or could it go its own wa In part 1 of the Essay, Pope constructs a harmonious system in which he effects a compromise among all these conflicting forces—a compromise that is typical of his times. Part 2 analyzes the causes of faulty criticism. Part 3 characterizes the good critic and praises the great critics of the past. An Essay on Criticism Part 1 "Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill Appear in writing or in judging ill; But of the two less dangerous is the offense To tire our patience than mislead our sense. Some few in that, but numbers err in this, Ten censure? wrong for one who writes amiss; judge A fool might once himself alone expose, Ow one in verse makes many more in prose. "Tis with our judgments as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own. In poets as true genius is but rare, True taste as seldom is the critic's share; Both must alike from Heaven derive their light, 0) 80 9% 100 105 Ho 4 Perasus, a AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM, PARTI | 2671 But oft in those confined to single parts. Like kings we lose the conquests gained before, By vain ambition still to make them more; Each might his several province well command, Would all but stoop to what they understand. First follow Nature, and your judgment frame By her just standard, which is still the same; Unerring Nature, still divinely bright, One clear, unchanged, and universal light, Life, force, and beauty must to all impart, At once the source, and end, and test of art. Art from that fund each just supply provides, Works without show, and without pomp presides. In some fair body thus the informing soul With spirits feeds, with vigor fills the whole, Each motion guides, and every nerve sustains; Itself unseen, but in the effects remains. Some, to whom Heaven in wit has been profuse, Want as much more to turn it to its use; For wit and judgment often are at strife, Though meant each other's aid, like man and wife. "Tis more to guide than spur the Muse's steed, Restrain his fury than provoke his speed; The wingèd courser,* like a generous°® horse, spirited, highly bred Shows most true mettle when you check his course. Those rules of old discovered, not devised, Are Nature still, but Nature methodized; Nature, like liberty, is but restrained By the same laws which first herself ordained. Hear how learn’d Greece her useful rules indites, When to repress and when indulge our flights: High on Parnassus’ top her sons she showed, And pointed out those arduous paths they trod; Held from afar, aloft, the immortal prize, And urged the rest by equal steps to rise. Just precepts thus from great examples given, She drew from them what they derived from Heaven. The generous critic fanned the poet's fire, And taught the world with reason to admire. Then criticism the Muse's handmaid proved, To dress her charms, and make her more beloved: But following wits from that intention strayed, Who could not win the mistress, wooed the maid; Against the poets their own arms they turned, Sure to hate most the men from whom they learned. So modern ’pothecaries, taught the art By doctors’ bills° to play the doctor's part, prescriptions old in the practice of mistaken rules, Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools. Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey, ‘ associated with the Muses and poetic inspiration.  THE RAPE OF THE LOCK | 2685 Their ancient bounds the banished Muses passed; ‘Thence arts o’er all themorthern world advance, But critic-learning flourished most in France: The rules a nation$ born to serve, obeys; And Boileau still in right of Horace sways.8 But we, brave Britons, foreign law despised, And kept unconquered—and uncivilized; Fierce for the liberties of wit, and bold; We still defied the Romans, as of old. Yet some there were, among the sounder few Of those who less presumed, and better knew, Who durst assert the juster ancient cause, And here restored wit's fundamental laws. Such was the Muse, whose rules and practice tell, “Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.” +5 Such was Roscommon,' not more learned than good, With manners gen'rous as his noble blood; To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known, And every author's merit, but his own. Such late was Walsh—the Muse's? judge and friend, 440 Who justly knew to blame or to commend; To failings mild, but zealous for desert; The clearest head, and the sincerest heart. This humble praise, lamented shade! receive, This praise at least a grateful Muse may give: 45 The Muse, whose early voice you taught tossing, Prescribed her heights, and pruned her tender wing, (Her guide now lost) no more attempts to rise, But in low numbers° short excursions tries: humble verses Content, if hence the unlearned their wants may view, 40 The learned reflect on what before they knew: Careless of° censure, nor too fond of fame; unconcerned at Still pleased to praise, yet not afraid to blame; Averse alike to flatter, or offend; Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend. 1709 1711 70 The Rape of the Lock The Rape of the Lock is based'on an actual'episode that provoked a quarrel between two prominent Catholic families. Pope” friend John CarylI, to whom the poem is addressed (line 3), suggested that Pope write it, Li hope that a little laughter might serve t0 soothe ruffled tempers. ord Petr hadeutoff a lock GF hair from the: head of the lovely Arabella Fermor (often spelled armer” and doubtless so pronounced), much'to the 'indignation'of' the lady and” erelativesì In'its originali version'of two cantos and 334 lines, published in 1712, © Rape of the Lock was a great success. In 1713 a new version was undertaken 8 mogolenis L'Ari Pogtique (1674) regularized and the important Essay on Translated Verse (1684). 8 Quotced the lessons of Horace” Art of Poetm, 2. Here, Pope himself. William Walsh (1663- field, dul from an Essay on Poetry by John Shef- 1708), whom Dryden once called “the best critic had baohe of Buckingham (1648-1721), who of our nation,” had advised Pope to work at 1 Walriended the young Pope. becoming the first great “correct” poet in English. ‘tworth Dillon, earl of Roscommon, wrote 9 dn