Chapter VIII: The Age of Pope (2)

Text size

In 1711 appeared the _Essay on Criticism_, also written in heroic couplets. The poem professes to set forth the gospel of “wit” and “nature” as it applies to the literature of the period. The work is clearly immature. There is nothing novel in its theories, which are conventionality itself; but it dresses the aged theories so neatly and freshly that the poem is a lasting monument to the genius of the writer. It is full of apt, quotable lines that have become imbedded in the language:

A little learning is a dangerous thing!...
And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art....
To err is human: to forgive, divine....
True wit is nature to advantage dressed....

_Windsor Forest_ (1713) is another pastoral in the familiar meter. Artificial still, it nevertheless shows a broader treatment, and a still stronger grip of the stopped couplet.

By this time Pope was well known, and he set about his ambitious scheme of translating the _Iliad_, which was eventually issued in 1720. For the book, as he was zealously assisted by his literary friends, he was successful in compiling a phenomenal subscription list, which (with the additional translation of the _Odyssey_) brought him more than ten thousand pounds. Such a triumph produced the inevitable reaction on the part of his critics, who maintained that Pope knew little Latin and less Greek, and that the translation was no translation at all. It certainly bears no close resemblance to the original Greek. Bentley, the famous classical scholar, remarked to the chagrined author, “A pretty poem, Mr. Pope, but you must not call it Homer.” The line of Pope has none of the great lift of the Homeric line, but it is often vigorous and picturesque, and answers with fair facility to the demands he makes upon it.

The troops exulting sat in order round,
And beaming fires illumined all the ground.
As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O’er heaven’s pure azure spreads her sacred light,
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
And not a cloud o’ercasts the solemn scene,
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumber’d gild the glowing pole,
O’er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with silver every mountain’s head:
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies;
The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.

In 1712, in a volume of Lintot’s _Miscellanies_, appeared _The Rape of the Lock_, one of the most brilliant poems in the language. The occasion of it was trivial enough. A Lord Petre had offended a Miss Fermor by cutting off a lock of her hair; dissensions between the families had followed, and Pope set about to laugh both parties back into good-humor. He makes of the incident a mock-heroic poem, and, rather unwisely, invents elaborate machinery of sylphs, gnomes, and other airy beings that take part in the mortals’ misdemeanors. The length becomes disproportionate to the theme, but the effect is quite dazzling. The style is highly artificial and mannered; but we must remember that Pope is jocular all through, and that he is purposely pitching his style as high as the subject permits. It abounds in rhetorical devices, such as climax, antithesis, and apostrophe. The effect produced is like that of a crackle of colored fireworks; smart epigrams explode in almost every line, and conceits dazzle with their brilliance. Yet so great an artist is Pope that by sheer skill he prevents the work from being flashy or vulgar: the workmanship is too delicate and precise.

But when to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill!
Just then, Clarissa drew, with tempting grace,
A two-edged weapon from her shining case;
So ladies, in romance, assist their knight,
Present the spear, and arm him for the fight.
He takes the gift with reverence, and extends
The little engine on his fingers’ ends;
This just behind Belinda’s neck he spread,
As o’er the fragrant steams she bent her head.
Swift to the lock a thousand sprites repair,
A thousand wings, by turns, blow back the hair!
And thrice they twitched the diamond in her ear;
Thrice she looked back, and thrice the foe drew near.
Just in that instant, anxious Ariel sought
The close recesses of the virgin’s thought:
As on the nosegay in her breast reclined,
He watched the ideas rising in her mind,
Sudden he viewed, in spite of all her art,
An earthly lover lurking at her heart.
Amazed, confused, he found his power expired,
Resigned to fate, and with a sigh retired.
The peer now spreads the glittering forfex wide
To enclose the lock; now joins it, to divide.
E’en then, before the fatal engine closed,
A wretched sylph too fondly interposed;
Fate urged the shears, and cut the sylph in twain
(But airy substance soon unites again),
The meeting points the sacred hair dissever
From the fair head, for ever, and for ever!

_The Dunciad_ appeared in 1728, with many subterfuges to conceal the authorship, and it reappeared in a larger, though not in an improved form, in 1742. In this poem he turns to rend the host of minor writers who had been making his life a misery with their pin-pricks. It shows his satirical powers at their best and at their worst. It is charged with a stinging wit, but is too spiteful and venomous, and confounds the good with the bad. Yet here as elsewhere Pope has many fine passages. The conclusion is probably the noblest that he ever composed:

In vain, in vain--the all-composing hour
Resistless falls: the Muse obeys the Power.
She comes! She comes! The sable throne behold
Of Night primeval and of Chaos old!
Before her, Fancy’s gilded clouds decay,
And all its varying rainbows die away.
Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires,
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires....
See skulking Truth to her old cavern fled,
Mountains of casuistry heaped o’er her head!...
See Mystery to Mathematics fly!
In vain! They gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die.
Religion blushing veils her sacred fires,
And unawares Morality expires....
Lo! thy dread empire, CHAOS! is restored;
Light dies before thy uncreating word;
Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall,
And universal darkness buries all.

The last years of his life were occupied chiefly in the composition of poetical epistles and satires (1731–35). Some of these are of great power, and show Pope’s art at its best. The _Epistle to Arbuthnot_ contains the famous satirical portrait of Addison, with whom Pope had quarreled:

Peace to all such; but were there one whose fires
True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires;
Blest with each talent and each art to please,
And born to write, converse, and live with ease:
Should such a man, too fond to rule alone,
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne,
View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes,
And hate for arts that caused himself to rise;
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer;
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike;
Alike reserved to blame, or to commend,
A timorous foe, and a suspicious friend;
Dreading even fools, by flatterers besieged,
And so obliging, that he ne’er obliged;
Like Cato, give his little senate laws,
And sit attentive to his own applause;
While wits and templars every sentence raise,
And wonder with a foolish face of praise:--
Who but must laugh, if such a man there be?
Who would not weep, if Atticus were he?

In this passage, though he does not perceive it, Pope is holding up a glass to his own method. Observe how he “damns with faint praise”; how he is “willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike.” Nearly the whole extract might be applied to its author.

The last considerable poem is the _Essay on Man_ (1734), which owes much to the suggestions of Bolingbroke. At the beginning of the poem he says “The proper study of mankind is man,” and then proceeds with a long and confused treatment of man and his place in the universe. As a contribution to philosophy it is contemptible, but from it we can detach clusters of passages full of force and beauty. The verse has all its author’s care and lucidity. In some places, indeed, the style is cut to the very bone, as it is in the well-known line, “Man never is but always to be blessed.”

=4. His Prose.= As a writer of prose Pope is of secondary importance. His _Letters_, published under a cloud of devious tricks, clearly are written with an eye on the public. They are addressed chiefly to notable persons, such as Swift and Gay, and consist of pompous essays upon abstract subjects. Sometimes in other letters he forgets himself, and writes easily and brightly, especially when he is telling of his own experiences.

=5. Summary.= It is now useful to draw together the various features of the work of this important poet.

(_a_) Both in subject and in style his poems are _limited_. They take people of his own social class, and they deal with their common experiences and their common interests and aspirations. Pope rarely dips below the surface, and when he does so he is not at his best. With regard to his style, we have seen that it is almost wholly restricted to the heroic couplet, used in a narrative and didactic subject. He is almost devoid of the lyrical faculty, and the higher artistic emotions--“passion and apathy, and glory and shame”--are beyond his artistic grasp.

(_b_) Within these limits his work is _powerful_ and _effective_. The wit is keen; the satire burns like acid; and his zeal is unshakable. In serious topics, as in the _Essay on Man_, he can give imperishable shape to popular opinions.

(_c_) His work is _careful_ and almost _fastidious_, and thus confers an enormous benefit upon English poetry. He cured poetry of the haphazard methods of the earlier ages. With inspiration lacking, care was more than ever necessary, and in this Pope led the way. His verse reads so easily owing to the great care he took with it.

True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,
As those move easiest who have learned to dance.
_Essay on Criticism_

(_d_) His _meter_ is among the most discussed in our literature. Its merits and demerits are quite clear to view. Against it we can urge its artificiality, its lack of originality, and the vile creeping paralysis that it communicated to the other metrical forms. Yet in its favor we must recognize its strength, unbreakable and pliable, like a strong bow, its clearness, point, and artistic brevity, and its incomparable excellence in some forms of satire and narrative. It is unprofitable to compare it with blank verse and other forms. We must recognize it as in a class apart.

OTHER POETS

=1. Matthew Prior (1664–1721).= Born in Dorsetshire, Prior studied at Cambridge, and was early engaged in writing on behalf of the Tories, from whom he received several valuable appointments. In 1701 he entered the House of Commons; and in 1715, becoming involved in Jacobite intrigues, he was imprisoned. He was liberated in 1717, and died in 1721.

His first long work is _The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse_ (1687), written in collaboration with Charles Montagu, and ridiculing _The Hind and the Panther_. Other longer works are _Alma_ (1716) and _Solomon_ (1718). The first imitates Butler in _Hudibras_, and with fair success; the second, written in the heroic couplet, aims at being a serious poem, but its seriousness is often marred with levity, and it shows no wisdom or insight.

Prior’s chief distinction lies in his miscellaneous verse, which is varied, bulky, and of a high quality. In some respects it resembles the verses of Swift, for much of it is composed in the octosyllabic couplet, and it has a fair amount of Swift’s force and dexterity. Prior lacks Swift’s deadly power and passion, but he surpasses the Dean in versatility, in an easy wit and impudence, and in sentimentality. In this pleasant ease of verse and sentiment he is rarely approached. Some of the best of his shorter pieces are _The Chameleon_, _The Thief and the Cordelier_, and _To Chloe_.

=2. John Gay (1685–1732).= Gay was born in humble circumstances, and was apprenticed to a silk-mercer; but, being ambitious, he entered the service of the Duchess of Monmouth (1713). His poems having brought him some fame, he sought a public appointment. He was only moderately successful in this search, and his lazy and indifferent habits spoiled the chances that came in his way. He died in London, an amiable and shiftless idler.

His chief works are _Rural Sports_ (1713), written in the heroic couplet, and resembling Pope’s _Pastorals, The Shepherd’s Week_ (1714), and _What d’Ye Call it?_ (1715), a pastoral farce. _Trivia, or The Art of Walking the Streets of London_ (1715) is a witty parody of the heroic style, and it contains bright descriptions of London streets; then came two plays, _Acis and Galatea_ and _The Beggar’s Opera_ (1728). This last play had a great success, which has lasted to the present day. It became the rage, and ran for sixty-two performances. It deserved its success, for it contains some pretty songs and much genuine though boisterous humor. Gay had the real lyrical gift, which was all the more valuable considering the age he lived in. His ballad _Black-eyed Susan_ is still popular.

=3. Edward Young (1683–1765).= Young had a long life, and produced a large amount of literary work of variable quality. He was born in Hampshire, went to Oxford, and late in life (about 1730) entered the Church. He lived much in retirement, though in his later years he received a public appointment.

His major works are _The Last Day_ (1713) and _The Force of Religion_ (1714), which are moralizings written in the heroic couplet; _The Love of Fame_ (1724), which shows an advance in the use of the couplet; and a poem in blank verse, _The Complaint, or Night Thoughts_ (1742). This last poem, which was inspired by the death of his wife, had a great and long-enduring popularity, which has now vanished. Like Young’s other poems, it shows some power of expression and somber satisfaction at his own misery. In the history of literature it is of some consequence, for the blank verse is of considerable strength, and as a reaction against the dominance of the couplet its value is undeniable.

=4. Sir Samuel Garth (1661–1719).= Garth was an older man than most of the other poets mentioned in this chapter. He was a popular physician, assisted Pope in the young man’s first efforts, and was knighted when George I ascended the throne.

_The Dispensary_, published in 1699, is the one work which gives him his place. It deals with a long-defunct squabble between physicians and apothecaries, and its importance is due to its being written in a kind of heroic couplet that is a link in style between Dryden and Pope.

=5. Richard Savage (1697–1743).= Savage’s melancholy fate, and his early friendship with Johnson, have given him a prominence that he scarcely deserves. He was born in London, and, according to his own story, was the child of Richard Savage, Earl Rivers. Savage passed his youth in miserable circumstances, took to hack-work with the publishers, besotted himself with drink and debauchery, and died in a debtor’s prison in Bristol.

His two chief poems are _The Bastard_ (1728) and _The Wanderer_ (1729). Both are written in the heroic couplet, and consist of long frenzied moralizings of his own unhappy lot. These works have much energy and some power of expression, but they are diffuse and rhetorical in style. Savage cannot rid himself of his personal grievances, which, inflamed by his dissipations, produce a morbid extravagance that ruins his work as poetry.

=6. Lady Winchilsea (1661–1720).= Born in Hampshire, the daughter of Sir William Kingsmill, Anne, Countess of Winchilsea, passed most of her life in London, where she became acquainted with Pope and other literary notables. Some of her poems, which were of importance in their day, are _The Spleen_ (1701), a Pindaric ode; _The Prodigy_ (1706); and _Miscellany Poems_ (1714), containing the _Nocturnal Reverie_.

Wordsworth says, “It is remarkable that, excepting the _Nocturnal Reverie_ and a passage or two in _Windsor Forest_ of Pope, the poetry of the period intervening between the publication of _Paradise Lost_ and _The Seasons_ does not contain a single new image of nature.” This statement is perhaps an exaggeration, but there is no doubt that Lady Winchilsea had the gift of producing smooth and melodious verse, and she had a discerning eye for the beauties of nature.

=7. Ambrose Philips (1675–1749).= Philips was a Shropshire man, was educated at Cambridge, and became a considerable figure in the literary world. He was a friend of Pope, and wrote _Pastorals_ (1709), which Pope damned with faint praise. The two poets quarreled, and Pope gave the other immortality in _The Dunciad_. Philips obtained several posts under the Government, and passed a happy and prosperous life.

He wrote three tragedies, the best of which is _The Distressed Mother_ (1712). He produced a fair amount of prose for the periodicals, and his miscellaneous verse, of a light and agreeable kind, was popular in its day. His poetry was called “namby-pamby,” from his Christian name; and the word has survived in its general application.

=8. Sir Richard Blackmore (1650–1729).= Blackmore was an industrious physician, and an industrious and unsuccessful poet. His name became a byword by reason of his huge, dreary epics, which he composed in his spare time. Some of them are _Prince Arthur_ (1695), _Job_ (1700), and _The Creation_ (1712). They are written in tolerable heroic couplets.

=9. Thomas Parnell (1679–1718).= Parnell was born in Ireland, entered the Church, became an archdeacon, and prospered in his post. His poems consist of miscellaneous work, and were extremely popular in their day. The best of his work is contained in _The Hermit_ (1710), which is written in heroic couplets, and in places reminds the reader of _The Deserted Village_. He shows skill as a versifier, and he has a genuine regard for nature.

=10. Allan Ramsay (1686–1758).= Born in Lanarkshire, Ramsay came to Edinburgh at the age of fifteen, and became a wig-maker. He soon took to writing verses, which admitted him into the society of the Edinburgh wits. He started a bookseller’s shop in the city, and became a kind of local unofficial Poet Laureate. His ballads became very popular, and he brought upon himself the notice of the leaders of the literary world in London.

Ramsay published much miscellaneous writing, of which a large amount was issued to satisfy a passing demand. The quality can be poor enough; but some of it is more meritorious. A piece like _Lochaber No More_ is quite noteworthy, and others reveal his freakish and pleasing sense of humor. His _Gentle Shepherd_ (1725), a pastoral drama, has many of the vices of its species; but on the other hand it contains pleasing natural descriptions, some delightful though sentimental characters, and a few charming lyrics. As a literary ancestor of Burns, Ramsay is important. He influenced the poetry of the Ayrshire man, who freely acknowledged the aid he obtained. Ramsay also shows how the natural genius of Scotland, while bowing to the supremacy of the school of Pope, nevertheless diverged on lines natural to itself.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

The period under review marks a hardening of the process discernible in the last chapter. The secession from romanticism is complete; the ideals of classicism reign supreme. Yet so unsleeping is the sense of progress in our literature that, even at the lowest ebb of the romantic spirit, a return to nature is feebly beginning. In the next chapter we shall notice this new movement, for in the next period we shall see it becoming full and strong.

=1. Poetry.= In no department of literature is the triumph of classicism seen more fully than in poetry.

(_a_) The _lyric_ almost disappears. What remains is of a light and artificial nature. The best lyrics are found in some of Prior’s shorter pieces, in Gay’s _Beggar’s Opera_, and in Ramsay’s _Gentle Shepherd_.

(_b_) The _ode_ still feebly survives in the Pindaric form. Pope wrote a few with poor success, one of them being _On St. Cecilia’s Day_, in imitation of Dryden’s ode. Lady Winchilsea was another mediocre exponent of the same form.

(_c_) The _satiric_ type is common, and of high quality. The best example is Pope’s _Dunciad_, a personal satire. Of political satire in poetry we have nothing to compare with Dryden’s. Satire tends to be lighter, brighter, and more cynical. It is spreading to other forms of verse besides the heroic couplet, and we can observe it in the octosyllabic couplet in the poems of Swift, Prior, and Gay. A slight development is the epistolary form of the satire, of which Pope became fond in his latter years. Such is his _Epistles of Horace Imitated_.

(_d_) _Narrative Poetry._ This is of considerable bulk, and contains some of the best productions of the period. Pope’s translation of Homer is a good example, and of the poorer sort are Blackmore’s abundant epics. We have also to notice a slight revival of the ballad, which was imitated by Gay and Prior. Their imitations are bloodless things, but they are worth noticing because they show that the interest is there.

(_e_) _The Pastoral._ The artificial type of the pastoral was highly popular, for several reasons. It gave an air of rusticity to the most formal of compositions; it was thought to be elegant; it was easily written; and it had the approval of the ancients, who made free use of the type. Pope and Philips have been mentioned as examples of the pastoral poets.

=2. Drama.= Here there is almost a blank. The brilliant and exotic flower of Restoration comedy has withered, and nothing of any merit takes its place. In tragedy Addison’s _Cato_ is almost the only passable example. In comedy Steele’s plays are an expurgated survival of the Restoration type. The only advance in the drama is shown in _The Beggar’s Opera_, whose robust vitality, sprightly music, and charming songs make it stand alone in its generation.

=3. Prose.= In prose we have to chronicle a distinct advance. For the first time we have periodical literature occupying a prominent place in the writing of the time. At this point, therefore, it is convenient to summarize the rise of periodical literature.

(_a_) _The Rise of the Periodical Press._ The first periodical published in Europe was the _Gazetta_ (1536), in Venice. This was a manuscript newspaper which was read publicly in order to give the Venetians information regarding their war with the Turks. In England news-sheets were published during the reign of Elizabeth, but they were irregular in their appearance, being issued only when some notable event, such as a great flood or fire, made their sale secure. The first regular English paper was _The Weekly Newes_ (1622), issued by Nathaniel Butter. The sheet contained some items of news from abroad, and was devoid of editorial comment or literary matter.

During the Civil War of the middle of the seventeenth century both Royalists and Roundheads issued their newspapers, which appeared spasmodically and seldom survived for any length of time. A Royalist journal was the _Mercurius Anglicus_, which was succeeded by several others of somewhat similar names. The Roundhead publications were the _Mercurius Pragmaticus_, the _Mercurius Politicus_, and others. After the Restoration newspaper-writing became so popular and so troublesome that the Government in 1662 suspended all private sheets and issued in their place the one official organ, _The Public Intelligencer_. This became _The Oxford Gazette_ (1665), and finally _The London Gazette_ (1666). The office of Gazetteer became an official appointment, and Steele held it for a time.

In 1682 the freedom of the Press was restored, and large numbers of _Mercuries_ and other periodicals appeared and flourished in their different fashions. Advertisements began to be a feature of the papers. In _The Jockey’s Intelligencer_ (1683) the charge is “a shilling for a horse or coach, for notification, and sixpence for renewing.” In 1702 _The Daily Courant_, the first daily newspaper, was published, and it survived until 1735. Then in the early years of the eighteenth century the fierce contests between the Whigs and the Tories brought a rapid expansion of the Press. The most famous of the issues were Defoe’s _Review_ (1704), a Whig organ whose writings brought its editor into disrepute; and its opponent _The Examiner_, the Tory paper to which men like Swift and Prior contributed regularly. These newspapers are almost entirely political, but they contain satirical work of much merit.

Then in 1709 Steele published _The Tatler_. At first it was Steele’s intention to make it entirely a _news_-paper; but under the pressure of his own genius and of that of Addison its literary features were accentuated till the daily essay became the feature of leading interest. _The Spectator_, begun in March, 1711, carried the tendency still farther. The literary journal has come to stay. Steele’s _Plebeian_ (1718) is an early example of the political periodical.

(_b_) _The Rise of the Essay._ Johnson defines an essay as “a loose sally of the mind, an irregular indigested piece, not a regular or orderly performance.” This definition is not quite complete, for it does not cover such an elaborate work as Locke’s _Essay concerning Human Understanding_. But for the miscellaneous prose essay, which it is our immediate business to consider here, the definition will do. An essay, therefore, must in other words be short, unmethodical, personal, and written in a style that is literary, easy, and elegant.

The English essay has its roots in the Elizabethan period, in the miscellaneous work of Lodge, Lyly, and Greene, and other literary free-lances (see p. 142). Sir Philip Sidney’s _Apologie for Poetrie_, published about 1580, is a pamphlet that attains a rudimentary essay-form. But the first real essayist in English is Francis Bacon (1561–1626), who published a short series of essays in 1597, enlarged in two later editions (1612 and 1625). His work follows that of the French writer Montaigne, whose essays appeared about 1580. In Bacon we have the miscellany of theme and the brevity, but we lack the intimacy of treatment and of style. Bacon’s essays are rather the disconnected musings of the philosopher than the personal opinions of the literary executant.

The defects of Bacon were remedied by Abraham Cowley (1618–67), who writes on such subjects as _Myself_, _The Garden_, and other familiar themes. His style is somewhat heavy, but he has a pleasant discursive manner, different from the dry and distant attitude of Bacon. He provides the link between Addison and Bacon. Another advance is marked by a group of character-writers who flourished in the first half of the seventeenth century. They gave short character-sketches, often very acute and humorous, of various types of people. The best known of such writers are Joseph Hall (1574–1656), John Earle (1601–65), and Sir Thomas Overbury (1581–1613). Overbury wrote short accounts of such types as the _Tinker_, the _Milkmaid_, and the _Franklin_. His sketches are short, are pithily expressed, and reveal considerable knowledge and insight.

During the Restoration period we have Dryden’s _Essay of Dramatic Poesie_ (1666), Locke’s _Essay concerning Human Understanding_ (1690), and Temple’s _Essay on Poetry_ (1685). The two first works are too long to be called essays proper, and fall rather under the name of treatises. Temple’s essay, one of many that he published, is rather long and formal, but it is nearer the type we are here considering.

With the development of the periodical press the short essay takes a great stride forward. It becomes varied, and acquires character, suppleness, and strength. The work of Addison and Steele has already been noticed at some length. In _The Tatler_ (1709) and _The Spectator_ (1711) they laid down the lines along which the essay was to be developed by their great successors. Other essayists of the time were Swift and Pope, who contributed to the periodicals, and Defoe, whose miscellaneous work is of wide range and of considerable importance.

(_c_) _Prose Narrative._ Much of the narrative is still disguised as allegory, as in Swift’s _Gulliver’s Travels_ and Addison’s _Vision of Mirza_. In his method Swift shows some advance, for he subordinates the allegory and adds to the interest in the satire and the narrative. The prominence given to fiction is still more noticeable in the novels of Defoe, such as _Robinson Crusoe_. We are now in touch with the novel proper, which will be treated in the next chapter.

(_d_) _Miscellaneous Prose._ There is a large body of religious, political and philosophical work. Much of it is satirical. In political prose Swift is the outstanding figure, with such books as the _Drapier’s Letters_; and in religious writing his _Tale of a Tub_ has a sinister importance. Other examples are Bolingbroke’s _Spirit of Patriotism_ (political), Berkeley’s _Alciphron_ (philosophical), and Steele’s _The Christian Hero_ (religious).

THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE

=1. Poetry.= In poetry we have to chronicle the domination of the _heroic couplet_. This meter produced a close, clear, and almost prosaic style, as we have noticed in the work of Pope. Blank verse is still found in Young’s _Night Thoughts_. Another example of blank verse is found in the mock epic of =John Philips (1676–1708)= called _The Splendid Shilling_ (1703). The use of blank verse at this time is important, for it marks both a resistance to the use of the couplet and a promise of the revival of the freer forms of verse. The following is a fair example of the blank verse of the period. In style it is quite uninspired, and is philosophically dull, but it is metrically accurate and has a certain dignity and force.

Amidst my list of blessings infinite
Stands this the foremost, “That my heart has bled.”
’Tis Heaven’s last effort of goodwill to man;
When pain can’t bless, Heaven quits us in despair.
Who fails to grieve, when just occasion calls,
Or grieves too much, deserves not to be blest;
Inhuman, or effeminate, his heart:
Reason absolves the grief, which reason ends.
May Heaven ne’er trust my friend with happiness,
Till it has taught him how to bear it well,
By previous pain; and made it safe to smile!
YOUNG, _Night Thoughts_

The _lyric_ still survives as a pale reflection of the Caroline species. A short specimen will suffice to show the facile versification and the lack of real passion that marks the treatment of the almost universal love-theme:

Blessed as the immortal gods is he,
The youth who fondly sits by thee,
And hears and sees thee all the while,
Softly speak, and sweetly smile.

’Twas this deprived my soul of rest,
And raised such tumults in my breast;
For while I gazed, in transport tossed,
My breath was gone, my voice was lost.
AMBROSE PHILIPS, _Sappho_

The only other kind of meter of any consequence is the _octosyllabic couplet_, which is largely employed in occasional and satirical compositions. Its style is neat, sharp, and dexterous, as can be observed in Swift’s and Prior’s verses.

=2. Prose.= In prose the outstanding feature is the emergence of the middle style. Of this the chief exponent is Addison, of whom Johnson says, “His prose is of the middle style, always equable, and always easy, without glowing words and pointed sentences.” We now find established a prose suitable for miscellaneous purposes--for newspaper and political work, for the essay, for history and biography. The step is of immense importance, for we can say that with Addison the modern era of prose is begun.

Along with this went the temporary disappearance of ornate prose. Prose of this style, though it had its beauties, was yet liable to be full of flaws, and was unacceptable to the taste of the age of Pope. It was therefore avoided. When ornate prose re-emerged later in the work of Johnson and Gibbon it was purged of its technical weaknesses, a development largely due to the period of maturing that it had undergone in the time we are now considering.

While the school of Addison represents the middle style, the plainer style is represented in the work of Swift and Defoe. Swift reveals the style at its best--sure, clean, and strong. Defoe’s writing is even plainer, and often descends to carelessness and inaccuracy. This is due almost entirely to the haste with which he wrote. We give an example of this colloquial style:

“Well,” said I, “honest man, that is a great mercy, as things
go now with the poor. But how do you live then, and how are you
kept from the dreadful calamity that is now upon us all?” “Why,
sir,” says he, “I am a waterman, and there is my boat,” says he,
“and the boat serves me for a house; I work in it in the day,
and I sleep in it in the night, and what I get I lay it down
upon that stone,” says he, showing me a broad stone on the other
side of the street, a good way from his house; “and then,” says
he, “I halloo and call to them till I make them hear, and they
come and fetch it.”
DEFOE, _A Journal of the Plague Year_

TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

EXERCISES

1. Compare the two following passages as examples of satire. They represent the bitterest passages from Dryden and Pope respectively. Remark upon the two methods--whether they are personal or general, vindictive or magnanimous. Add a note on the style of Dryden contrasted with that of Pope, and compare their handling of the heroic couplet. Say which passage you prefer, and why you prefer it.

(1) Doeg,[160] though without knowing how or why,
Made still a blundering kind of melody;
Spurred boldly on, and dashed through thick and thin,
Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in;
Free from all meaning, whether good or bad,
And, in one word, heroically mad,
He was too warm on picking-work to dwell,
But faggoted his notions as they fell,
And, if they rhymed and rattled, all was well.
Spiteful he is not, though he wrote a satire,
For there still goes some thinking to ill-nature;
He needs no more than birds and beasts to think,
All his occasions are to eat and drink.
If he call rogue and rascal from a garret,
He means you no more mischief than a parrot;
The words for friend and foe alike were made,
To fetter them in verse is all his trade.
DRYDEN, _Absalom and Achitophel_ (_Part II_)

(2) _Pope._ A lash like mine no honest man shall dread,
But all such babbling blockheads in his stead.
Let Sporus[161] tremble--

_Arbuthnot._ What? that thing of silk,
Sporus, that mere white curd of ass’s milk?
Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

_Pope._ Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings,
This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings;
Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys,
Yet wit ne’er tastes, and beauty ne’er enjoys:
So well-bred spaniels civilly delight
In mumbling of the game they dare not bite.
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray,
As shallow streams run dimpling all the way:
Whether in florid impotence he speaks,
And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks;
Or at the ear of Eve, familiar toad,
Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad,
In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies,
Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
His wit, all see-saw between _that_ and _this_,
Now high, now low, now master up, now miss,
And he himself one vile antithesis.
Amphibious thing! that, acting either part,
The trifling head or the corrupted heart,
Fop at the toilet, flatt’rer at the board,
Now trips a lady, and now struts a lord.
Eve’s tempter thus the Rabbins have exprest,
A cherub’s face, a reptile all the rest;
Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust;
Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
POPE, _Epistle to Arbuthnot_

2. The two following extracts are from love-lyrics of the period. Comment upon the treatment of the theme, paying attention to the strength of feeling expressed, and the naturalness of the expression. Is the English or the Scottish poem the more natural? Write a note on the style of each, and say if it suits the subject.

(1) All in the downs the fleet was moored,
The streamers waving in the wind,
When black-eyed Susan came aboard,
“Oh! where shall I my true-love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
If my sweet William sails among the crew?”

William, who high upon the yard
Rocked with the billow to and fro,
Soon as her well-known voice he heard,
He sighed, and cast his eyes below:
The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,
And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands.

* * * * *

“O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,
My vows shall ever true remain;
Let me kiss off that falling tear;
We only part to meet again.
Change as ye list, ye winds! my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.”

* * * * *

The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
The sails their swelling bosom spread;
No longer must she stay aboard;
They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head.
Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land,
“Adieu!” she cries, and waved her lily hand.
GAY, _Black-eyed Susan_

(2) Hear me, ye nymphs, and every swain,
I’ll tell how Peggy grieves me;
Though thus I languish and complain,
Alas! she ne’er believes me.
My vows and sighs, like silent air,
Unheeded, never move her;
At the bonnie bush aboon Traquair,
’Twas there I first did love her.

* * * * *

Yet now she scornful flies the plain,
The fields we then frequented;
If e’er we meet she shows disdain,
She looks as ne’er acquainted.
The bonnie bush bloomed fair in May,
Its sweets I’ll aye remember;
But now her frowns make it decay--
It fades as in December.

Ye rural powers, who hear my strains,
Why thus should Peggy grieve me?
Oh, make her partner in my pains,
Then let her smiles relieve me!
If not, my love will turn despair,
My passion no more tender;
I’ll leave the bush aboon Traquair--
To lonely wilds I’ll wander.
ROBERT CRAWFORD (_died 1733_)

3. The following three extracts are from the works of Swift, Addison, and Defoe. Ascribe each piece to its author, in each case giving distinctly your reasons for the selection of the authorship.

(1) When we were arrived upon the verge of his estate, we
stopped at a little inn to rest ourselves and our horses. The
man of the house had it seems been formerly a servant in the
knight’s family; and to do honour to his old master, had some
time since, unknown to Sir Roger, put him up in a sign-post
before the door; so that the knight’s head had hung out upon
the road about a week before he himself knew anything of the
matter. As soon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding
that his servant’s indiscretion proceeded wholly from affection
and goodwill, he only told him that he had made him too high
a compliment; and when the fellow seemed to think that could
hardly be, added with a more decisive look, That it was too
great an honour for any man under a duke; but told him at the
same time, that it might be altered with a very few touches, and
that he himself would be at the charge of it.

(2) I turned away over the fields, from Bow to Bromley, and down
to Blackwall, to the stairs that are there for landing or taking
water.

Here I saw a poor man walking on the bank or sea-wall, as
they call it, by himself. I walked awhile also about, seeing
the houses all shut up; at last I fell into some talk, at a
distance, with this poor man. First I asked him how people did
there-abouts? “Alas! sir,” says he, “almost desolate; all dead
or sick: here are very few families in this part, or in that
village,” pointing at Poplar, “where half of them are not dead
already, and the rest sick.” Then pointing to one house, “There
they are all dead,” said he, “and the house stands open; nobody
dares go into it. A poor thief,” says he, “ventured in to steal
something, but he paid dear for his theft, for he was carried to
the churchyard too, last night.”

(3) I arrived at the fleet in less than half an hour. The enemy
was so frightened when they saw me that they leapt out of their
ships, and swam to shore, where there could not be fewer than
thirty thousand souls. I then took my tackling, and fastening
a hook to the hole at the prow of each, I tied all the cords
together at the end. While I was thus employed, the enemy
discharged several thousand arrows, many of which stuck in my
hands and face; and besides the excessive smart, gave me much
disturbance in my work. My greatest apprehension was for my
eyes, which I should have infallibly lost, if I had not suddenly
thought of an expedient.

4. We give two extracts, one dramatic and one non-dramatic, from the blank verse of the time. Does the verse strike you as being passionate, interesting, or profound? How would you describe it? Discuss the meter--its regularity, melody, and power.

(1) It must be so--Plato, thou reason’st well,
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
Or whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself and startles at destruction?
--’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;
’Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates Eternity to man.
ADDISON, _Cato_

(2) Be wise to-day: ’tis madness to defer;
Next day the fatal precedent will plead;
Thus on, till wisdom is push’d out of life.
Procrastination is the thief of time;
Year after year it steals till all are fled,
And to the mercies of a moment leaves
The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
If not so frequent, would not this be strange?
That ’tis so frequent, _this_ is stranger still.
YOUNG, _Night Thoughts_

5. What is the object of Swift in the following satirical passage? How does he achieve it? How are the style, figures of speech, and meter suited to his purpose? Compare this extract with that from _Hudibras_ given on pp. 208–9. Which is the wittier and more deadly? How is the superiority gained?

Hobbes clearly proves that every creature
Lives in a state of war by nature.
The greater for the smallest watch,
But meddle seldom with their match.
A whale of moderate size will draw
A shoal of herrings down his maw:
A fox with geese his belly crams;
A wolf destroys a thousand lambs:
But search among the rhyming race,
The brave are worried by the base.
If on Parnassus’ top you sit,
You rarely bite, are always bit.
Each poet of inferior size
On you shall rail and criticise,
And strive to tear you limb from limb;
While others do as much for him.
The vermin only tease and pinch
Their foes superior by an inch.
So, naturalists observe, a flea
Hath smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller still to bite ’em,
And so proceed _ad infinitum_.
Thus every poet in his kind
Is bit by him that comes behind:
Who, though too little to be seen,
Can tease, and gall, and give the spleen.
_Rhapsody on Poetry_

6. We give an example of Swift’s prose satire, a passage in which he describes the progress of a political lie. What is the figure of speech underlying the passage, and how does it assist his purpose? Compare this passage with the poetical one given in the last exercise: do the two passages correspond in style, figurativeness, and force? Which strikes you as being the more effective?

No wonder if an infant so miraculous in its birth should be
destined for great adventures: and accordingly we see it hath
been the guardian spirit of a prevailing party for almost twenty
years. It can conquer kingdoms without fighting, and sometimes
with the loss of a battle. It gives and resumes employments;
can sink a mountain to a mole-hill, and raise a mole-hill to
a mountain; hath presided for many years at committees of
elections; can wash a blackmoor white; make a saint of an
atheist, and a patriot of a profligate; can furnish foreign
ministers with intelligence, and raise or let fall the credit
of the nation. This goddess flies with a huge looking-glass in
her hands, to dazzle the crowd, and make them see, according as
she turns it, their ruin in their interest, and their interest
in their ruin. In this glass you will behold your best friends,
clad in coats powdered with _fleurs de lis_, and triple
crowns; their girdles hung round with chains, and beads, and
wooden shoes; and your worst enemies adorned with the ensigns of
liberty, property, indulgence, moderation, and a cornucopia in
their hands. Her large wings, like those of a flying-fish, are
of no use but while they are moist; she therefore dips them in
mud, and soaring aloft scatters it in the eyes of the multitude,
flying with great swiftness; but at every turn is forced to
stoop in dirty ways for new supplies.
_The Examiner_

7. “The bulk of your natives appear to me to be the most pernicious race of odious little vermin that Nature ever suffered to crawl upon the face of the earth.” The King of Brobdingnag says this to Gulliver. How far does this represent Swift’s attitude in _Gulliver’s Travels_, and how far does he succeed in conveying this impression?

8. “I fared like a distressed prince who calls in a powerful neighbour to his aid: I was undone by my auxiliary; when I had once called him in, I could not subsist without dependence on him.” This is Steele’s own estimate of Addison’s contribution to _The Tatler_ and _The Spectator_. As far as you can, estimate the share of each writer in the production of the two periodicals, and apportion their relative importance.

9. How much of their personal peculiarities and weaknesses appears in the writings of Swift, Pope, and Steele? How far does the nature of their literary work drive them to this self-revelation?

10. Account for the decline of the drama during the first half of the eighteenth century.

11. From an examination of the table given on p. 273 answer the following questions: What branches of poetry are most weakly represented during the age of Pope? Why is that so? What branch of prose-writing is the strongest? Why is that so?

12. Why is the period of Pope called “the Age of Prose”? Does this description of the time need modification?

13. Give reasons for the rise of periodical literature during this period.

14. The humor of Addison “is that of a gentleman, in which the quickest sense of the ridiculous is constantly tempered by good nature and good breeding.... He preserves a look of demure serenity.... The mirth of Swift is the mirth of Mephistopheles.... Swift moves laughter, but never joins in it.” (Macaulay.) Compare the humor of Swift with that of Addison. Which of the two does Pope more closely resemble in humor?

15. “Fancy, provided she knows her place, is tolerated; but Imagination is kept at a distance.” (Saintsbury.) Show how far this statement applies to the poetry of this time.

Previous Next

Comments

A history of English literatureChapter VIII: The Age of Pope (2)

0%33 min left in chapter