But it is in the "Rape of the Lock" that Pope principally appears as a POET, in which he has displayed more imagination than in all his other works taken together. "Its wit and humor," says Dr. Drake, “are of the most delicate and highly finished kind; its fictions sportive and elegant, and conceived with a propriety and force of imagination which astonish and fascinate every reader."2 THE TOILET.3 And now, unveil'd, the Toilet stands display'd, First, robed in white, the Nymph intent adores, Transform'd to combs, the speckled and the white. DESCRIPTION OF BELINDA. Rape of the Lock, 1. 121. Not with more glories, in th' ethereal plain, 1 The subject of this poem 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 Fermor's hair. "On so slight a foundation has he raised this beautiful superstructure; like a fairy palace in a desert."-Warton. 2 "I hope it will not be thought an exaggerated panegyric to say that the Rape of the Lock is the BEST SATIRE extant; that it contains the truest and liveliest picture of modern life; and that the subJect is of a more elegant nature, as well as more artfully conducted, than that of any other heroicomic poem. 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 Paradise Lost, we may also venture to affirm, that in point of DELICACY, ELEGANCE, and fine-turned RAILLERY, on which they have so much valued themselves, they have produced nothing equal to the Rape of the Lock.”— Warton. 8 "The description of the Toilet is judiciously given in such magnificent turns, as dignify the offices performed in it. Belinda dressing is painted in as pompous a manner as Achilles arming.”— Warton Fair Nymphs and well-drest Youths around her shone, On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all. This Nymph, to the destruction of mankind, Rape of the Lock, ii. 1. THE BARON OFFERS SACRIFICE FOR SUCCESS. The adventurous Baron the bright locks admired; He saw, he wish'd, and to the prize aspired. For this, ere Phœbus rose, he had implored And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire. The powers gave ear, and granted half his prayer, Rape of the Lock, ii. 29, THE SYLPHS THEIR FUNCTIONS AND EMPLOYMENTS. Some to the sun their insect wings unfold, Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold; Transparent forms, too fine for mortal sight, Their fluid bodies half dissolved in light, Loose to the wind their airy garments flew, Thin glittering textures of the filmy dew, Dipp'd in the richest tincture of the skies, Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes; Colors that change whene'er they wave their wings Superior by the head was Ariel placed; He raised his azure wand, and thus begun :- Ye Sylphs and Sylphids, to your chief give ear! Some in the fields of purest ether play, And bask and whiten in the blaze of day; To draw fresh colors from the vernal flowers; To steal from rainbows, ere they drop in showers, This day, black omens threat the brightest Fair Some dire disaster, or by force or slight; But what, or where, the fates have wrapp'd in night. Or some frail China-jar receive a flaw, Or stain her honor, or her new brocade, Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade; Or lose her heart or necklace at a ball; Or whether Heaven has doom'd that Shock 2 must fall. 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; 1 "The seeming importance given to every part of female dress, each of which is committed to the care and protection of a different sylph, with all the solemnity of a general appointing the several posts in his army, renders this whole passage admirable, on account of its politeness, poignancy, and poetry."— Warton, 2 Her lapdog. Do thou, Crispissa, tend her favorite Lock; To fifty chosen Sylphs, of special note, He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend: Rape of the Lock, ii. 59. THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL. Vital spark of heavenly flame! Hark! they whisper; Angels say, The world recedes; it disappears! Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! Oh Death! where is thy Sting? 1 "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 toilet as instruments of punishment to those spirits who shall be careless of their charge:-of punishment such as sylphs alone could undergo."-Warton. It is to be regretted that the prose works of Pope are so few, for what he has left us are remarkable for great purity and correctness of style, clearness of conception, and soundness of judgment. The chief of them are his Letters, which are among the best specimens of epistolary writing; a Preface to the Iliad; a Postscript to the Odyssey; a Preface to Shakspeare; and Prefaces to his Pastorals and collected works. LETTER TO STEELE, UPON EARLY DEATH. You formerly observed to me, that nothing made a more ridiculous figure in a man's life than the disparity we often find in him, sick and well. Thus, one of an unfortunate constitution is perpetually exhibiting a miserable example of the weakness of his mind and of his body, in their turns. I have had frequent opportunities of late to consider myself in these different views, and, I hope, have received some advantage by it, if what Waller says be true, that The soul's dark cottage, batter d and decay'd, Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. Then surely sickness, contributing, no less than old age, to the shaking down this scaffolding of the body, may discover the in ward structure more plainly. Sickness is a sort of early old age · it teaches us a diffidence in our earthly state, and inspires us with thoughts of a future, better than a thousand volumes of philose phers and divines. It gives so warning a concussion to those props of our vanity, our strength and youth, that we think of for tifying ourselves within, when there is so little dependence upor our outworks. Youth, at the very best, is but a betrayer of human life in a gentler and smoother manner than age: 'tis like a stream that nourishes a plant upon a bank, and causes it to flourish and blossom to the sight, but at the same time is undermining it at the root in secret. My youth has dealt more fairly and openly with me; it has afforded several prospects of my danger, and given me an advantage, not very common to young men, that the attractions of the world have not dazzled me very much; and I begin, where most people end, with a full conviction of the emptiness of all sorts of ambition, and the unsatisfactory nature of all human pleasures, when a smart fit of sickness tells me this scurvy tenement of my body will fall in a little time; I am even as unconcerned as was that honest Hibernian, who, being in bed in the great storm some years ago, and told the house would tumble over his head, made answer, "What care I for the house? I am only a lodger." When I reflect what an inconsiderable little atom every single man is, with respect to the whole creation, methinks 'tis a shame to be concerned at the removal of such a trivial animal as I am. The inorning after my exit, the sun will rise as bright as ever, the |