This poem is an important work in English literary criticism, guiding critics into the modern era. It was published in 1711 when Pope was a remarkably young 21 years old. It is not an essay in the modern sense, but rather a long poem written in heroic couplets. Pope was aware of a general decline in the state of art and its appreciation in his time, and chose to address the failures of the poets and critics in one long, elegant poem.
This article is the third part of our analysis, covering the entirety of the poem’s Part 3, spanning lines 560 to 744 of the full 744-line poem. In this section, Pope completes his characterization of a true literary critic, listing and praising exemplary critics from the classical period to his contemporaries.
You can read Part I and Part II of our analysis to understand the context of Part III.
- Pope often uses antithesis and parallel structure to emphasize his points. It helps to read closely as this reveals the nuance in his arguments.
- He references classical critics, like Aristotle and Horace, and historical events. Having basic familiarity with these figures and events enhances one's understanding.
- Pope lays heavy emphasis on character development of the critic, which seems odd for a treatise on literary criticism, and has little to do with one's sense of judgment.
Part III: An Essay on Criticism Alexander PopeLearn then what morals critics ought to show, For 'tis but half a judge's task, to know. 'Tis not enough, taste, judgment, learning, join; In all you speak, let truth and candour shine: That not alone what to your sense is due, All may allow; but seek your friendship too.Be silent always when you doubt your sense; And speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence: Some positive, persisting fops we know, Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so; But you, with pleasure own your errors past, And make each day a critic on the last.'Tis not enough, your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do; Men must be taught as if you taught them not; And things unknown proposed as things forgot. Without good breeding, truth is disapprov'd; That only makes superior sense belov'd.Be niggards of advice on no pretence; For the worst avarice is that of sense. With mean complacence ne'er betray your trust, Nor be so civil as to prove unjust. Fear not the anger of the wise to raise; Those best can bear reproof, who merit praise.'Twere well might critics still this freedom take, But Appius reddens at each word you speak, And stares, Tremendous ! with a threatening eye, Like some fierce tyrant in old tapestry! Fear most to tax an honourable fool, Whose right it is, uncensur'd, to be dull; Such, without wit, are poets when they please, As without learning they can take degrees. Leave dangerous truths to unsuccessful satires, And flattery to fulsome dedicators, Whom, when they praise, the world believes no more, Than when they promise to give scribbling o'er. 'Tis best sometimes your censure to restrain, And charitably let the dull be vain: Your silence there is better than your spite, For who can rail so long as they can write? Still humming on, their drowsy course they keep, And lash'd so long, like tops, are lash'd asleep. False steps but help them to renew the race, As after stumbling, jades will mend their pace. What crowds of these, impenitently bold, In sounds and jingling syllables grown old, Still run on poets, in a raging vein, Even to the dregs and squeezings of the brain, Strain out the last, dull droppings of their sense, And rhyme with all the rage of impotence!Such shameless bards we have; and yet 'tis true, There are as mad, abandon'd critics too. The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read, With loads of learned lumber in his head, With his own tongue still edifies his ears, And always list'ning to himself appears. All books he reads, and all he reads assails, From Dryden's Fables down to Durfey's Tales. With him, most authors steal their works, or buy; Garth did not write his own Dispensary. Name a new play, and he's the poet's friend, Nay show'd his faults—but when would poets mend? No place so sacred from such fops is barr'd, Nor is Paul's church more safe than Paul's churchyard: Nay, fly to altars; there they'll talk you dead: For fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Distrustful sense with modest caution speaks; It still looks home, and short excursions makes; But rattling nonsense in full volleys breaks; And never shock'd, and never turn'd aside, Bursts out, resistless, with a thund'ring tide.But where's the man, who counsel can bestow, Still pleas'd to teach, and yet not proud to know? Unbias'd, or by favour or by spite; Not dully prepossess'd, nor blindly right; Though learn'd, well-bred; and though well-bred, sincere; Modestly bold, and humanly severe? Who to a friend his faults can freely show, And gladly praise the merit of a foe? Blest with a taste exact, yet unconfin'd; A knowledge both of books and human kind; Gen'rous converse; a soul exempt from pride; And love to praise, with reason on his side?Such once were critics; such the happy few, Athens and Rome in better ages knew. The mighty Stagirite first left the shore, Spread all his sails, and durst the deeps explore: He steer'd securely, and discover'd far, Led by the light of the Mæonian Star. Poets, a race long unconfin'd and free, Still fond and proud of savage liberty, Receiv'd his laws; and stood convinc'd 'twas fit, Who conquer'd nature, should preside o'er wit.Horace still charms with graceful negligence, And without methods talks us into sense, Will, like a friend, familiarly convey The truest notions in the easiest way. He, who supreme in judgment, as in wit, Might boldly censure, as he boldly writ, Yet judg'd with coolness, though he sung with fire; His precepts teach but what his works inspire. Our critics take a contrary extreme, They judge with fury, but they write with fle'me: Nor suffers Horace more in wrong translations By wits, than critics in as wrong quotations.See Dionysius Homer's thoughts refine, And call new beauties forth from ev'ry line! Fancy and art in gay Petronius please, The scholar's learning, with the courtier's ease.In grave Quintilian's copious work we find The justest rules, and clearest method join'd; Thus useful arms in magazines we place, All rang'd in order, and dispos'd with grace, But less to please the eye, than arm the hand, Still fit for use, and ready at command.Thee, bold Longinus! all the Nine inspire, And bless their critic with a poet's fire. An ardent judge, who zealous in his trust, With warmth gives sentence, yet is always just; Whose own example strengthens all his laws; And is himself that great sublime he draws.Thus long succeeding critics justly reign'd, Licence repress'd, and useful laws ordain'd; Learning and Rome alike in empire grew, And arts still follow'd where her eagles flew; From the same foes, at last, both felt their doom, And the same age saw learning fall, and Rome. With tyranny, then superstition join'd, As that the body, this enslav'd the mind; Much was believ'd, but little understood, And to be dull was constru'd to be good; A second deluge learning thus o'er-run, And the monks finish'd what the Goths begun.At length Erasmus, that great, injur'd name, (The glory of the priesthood, and the shame!) Stemm'd the wild torrent of a barb'rous age, And drove those holy Vandals off the stage.But see! each Muse, in Leo's golden days, Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays! Rome's ancient genius, o'er its ruins spread, Shakes off the dust, and rears his rev'rend head! Then sculpture and her sister-arts revive; Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live; With sweeter notes each rising temple rung; A Raphael painted, and a Vida sung. Immortal Vida! on whose honour'd brow The poet's bays and critic's ivy grow: Cremona now shall ever boast thy name, As next in place to Mantua, next in fame!But soon by impious arms from Latium chas'd, Their ancient bounds the banished Muses pass'd; Thence arts o'er all the northern world advance; But critic-learning flourish'd most in France. The rules a nation born to serve, obeys, And Boileau still in right of Horace sways. But we, brave Britons, foreign laws despis'd, And kept unconquer'd, and uncivilis'd, 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 presum'd, and better knew, Who durst assert the juster ancient cause, And here restor'd wit's fundamental laws. Such was the Muse, whose rules and practice tell "Nature's chief master-piece is writing well." Such was Roscommon—not more learn'd than good, With manners gen'rous as his noble blood; To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known, And ev'ry author's merit, but his own. Such late was Walsh—the Muse's judge and friend, 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: The Muse, whose early voice you taught to sing, Prescrib'd her heights, and prun'd her tender wing, (Her guide now lost) no more attempts to rise, But in low numbers short excursions tries: Content, if hence th' unlearn'd their wants may view, The learn'd reflect on what before they knew: Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame, Still pleas'd to praise, yet not afraid to blame, Averse alike to flatter, or offend, Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.
Summary
In Part III of ‘An Essay on Criticism’, Pope outlines the qualities of a true critic. He honors classical masters of criticism and traces the decline and revival of the art. He concludes with hopes to contribute to its tradition.
The poem is a didactic poem in heroic couplets, which outlines principles for good literary criticism and poetry. This section is the culmination of Pope’s thesis on criticism. In it, he sums up previous ideas and lists important critics in the tradition of classical criticism.
A true critic, according to Pope, must blend learning and moral integrity, and should be humble so as to improve over time. They must express truth tactfully, or risk being rejected. It is also essential to generously share advice without flattery or fear. In contrast, they should not waste criticism on the vain.
Pope describes the ideal critic as sincere, modest, fair, discerning, and grounded in both books and human experience. He lists among the classics Aristotle, Horace, Dionysius, Petronius, Quintilian, and Longinus. After the fall of Rome, this tradition fell to the Dark Ages but was reclaimed by Erasmus, who handed the baton over to the Renaissance. Post-Renaissance Neoclassical tradition moved from Rome to France, and then to England under the charge of Pope himself.
Expert Commentary
Insights by Ebuka Igbokwe
Bachelors Degree in English Literature
Historical Context
This poem was published in the early 18th century. This is known as the Augustan Age, a period shaped by the Enlightenment’s emphasis on reason, order, and logic. Increased political stability, a rising middle class, and a flourishing public sphere (like coffeehouses and periodicals) fuelled a demand for literature that reflected rational thought, the dominant value of the era.
This poem is a hallmark of Neoclassicism, which itself was the artistic expression and cultural manifestation of the Enlightenment’s core ideals. This movement championed classical ideals (from Greco-Roman art) such as balance, restraint, and the “imitation of Nature,” an idealized form of nature, understood as universal truth and harmony. Pope draws extensively from and adapts ideas from classical texts, integrating them into his context.
Structure and Form
Part III of our analysis of ‘An Essay On Criticism‘ covers lines 560 to 744 of the 744-line poem. This section could be properly divided into two subsections. The first deals with the manner, character, and ethics of an ideal critic in lines 560-642. In the second subsection, lines 643-744, Pope presents an array of historical critics in the classical and neoclassical tradition, praising them for their particular qualities and their contributions to the art of literary criticism.
The poem is a verse essay, a reasoned didactic argument in poetic form: a formal and intellectual discourse packaged within the vehicle of poetry. It is composed almost entirely of heroic couplets (rhyming pairs of lines) and is written primarily in iambic pentameter. Pope employs Horatian satire, a gentler and more urban style of criticism, rather than the more acerbic Juvenalian satire. Instead of a vehement attack, he uses humour, irony, and wit to show the faults of critics and poets.
Literary Devices
Part III of ‘An Essay on Criticism‘ rounds up the exploration of principles Pope believes ideal criticism is founded on, and mentions noteworthy critics in the classical and neoclassical tradition. He uses various literary devices in this section:
- Part III of this poem is rich with historical allusions. Pope makes references not only to historical figures like Horace, Longinus, and Quintilian, but also to historical events like the fall of the Roman Empire and the Sack of Rome during the Renaissance. These references situate the literary tradition he promotes in its proper historical context.
- In characterizing the ideal critic, Pope uses antitheses to draw contrasts and define what lies between with greater clarity. “Men must be taught as if you taught them not” (line 574) is an antithesis that juxtaposes the act of teaching with the appearance of not teaching, to emphasize using a subtle and indirect approach to instruction.
- Pope uses oxymorons to create a striking or surprising effect that draws attention to a particular odd aspect of his object of reference. The scholastic monks who allow dogma to rule their intellect, and thus ruin learning, are called “holy vandals” in line 696. Horace’s method, which lacks formality, is called “graceful negligence” in line 653. And he advises not to attack a dull man of stature, whom he refers to as “honourable fool.”
Detailed Analysis, Stanza by Stanza
Lines 560-565
Learn then what morals critics ought to show,
For ’tis but half a judge’s task, to know.
‘Tis not enough, taste, judgment, learning, join;
In all you speak, let truth and candour shine:
That not alone what to your sense is due,
All may allow; but seek your friendship too.
In the beginning of this section, Pope posits that ethics and character are as important in being a good critic as being knowledgeable and intelligent. A critic should be honest and candid, too. If one offers sincere, constructive, and truthful feedback, people will respect them for it, and as such, they will want to be associated with you and value your perspective.
The repetition of the word “’tis” emphasises the critic’s duty to possess and understand firm morals. The word “’tis” is also a form of syncope, as it is the conflation of two words, with a letter replaced by an apostrophe.
Lines 566-571
Be silent always when you doubt your sense;
And speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence:
Some positive, persisting fops we know,
Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so;
But you, with pleasure own your errors past,
And make each day a critic on the last.
Pope uses direct address as he advises not to speak when you “doubt your sense”, alluding to a potential lapse in knowledge or judgment. This undeniably requires a sense of humility, as one must readily admit when they are out of their depth. Even when one is sure and confident, they should speak modestly and humbly, rather than sounding arrogant and overly assertive. Some people, when incorrect, will stick obstinately to the wrong idea rather than admit their error. The right way is to own your past errors and review and improve your previous understanding. Pope encourages individuals to be their own critics, as they heed their mistakes: “each day a critic on the last”. Do not be afraid to unlearn and relearn.
Plosive alliteration is used throughout lines 568 and 570 with the repetition of “p” sounds: “positive, persisting fops”, “pleasure”, and “past”. This lends a humorous quality to these lines, as the word “fops” is emphasised. Pope’s method of disparaging critics becomes increasingly enjoyable for readers, as his mocking tone offers some comic relief in this lengthy poem.
Lines 572-577
‘Tis not enough, your counsel still be true;
Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do;
Men must be taught as if you taught them not;
And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
Without good breeding, truth is disapprov’d;
That only makes superior sense belov’d.
Pope continues with a series of antithetical statements. One must not just tell the truth, as a harsh truth can hurt more than a polite lie. This is paradoxical because one usually associates truth with good and lies with harm. However, this emphasises the importance of allowing room for growth – one cannot be expected to learn from criticism that humiliates them.
Lines 574-575, while not perfect examples of chiasmus, show strong chiastic structures, as the lines show action and negation of ideas balanced against each other. Pope hints that one should not be arrogant or condescending in counsel. Delivered “[w]ithout good breeding,” without politeness or respect, people are likely to reject even the best advice. However, delivered with respect, “makes superior sense belov’d”. The sibilance of “makes superior sense” reinforces the sense of distinction it carries.
Lines 578-583
Be niggards of advice on no pretence;
For the worst avarice is that of sense.
With mean complacence ne’er betray your trust,
Nor be so civil as to prove unjust.
Fear not the anger of the wise to raise;
Those best can bear reproof, who merit praise.
Pope advises against being stingy with advice, saying that the worst kind of greed is holding back wisdom: good counsel should be shared and not hoarded selfishly. One should also resist being dishonest or unjust out of excessive politeness or an eagerness to please. Pope assures that wise people are open to feedback and correction, and therefore, will not be easily offended; it is those who can stand constructive criticism “who merit praise” for their work.
These short, memorable lines from the beginning of Part 3 are known as aphorisms or maxims. These are concise, memorable statements of a general truth or rule of conduct. Pope is especially famous for his aphorisms, and this poem is littered with some of his very best maxims.
Lines 584-609
‘Twere well might critics still this freedom take,
But Appius reddens at each word you speak,
And stares, Tremendous ! with a threatening eye,
Like some fierce tyrant in old tapestry!
Fear most to tax an honourable fool,
Whose right it is, uncensur’d, to be dull;
Such, without wit, are poets when they please,
As without learning they can take degrees.
Leave dangerous truths to unsuccessful satires,
And flattery to fulsome dedicators,
Whom, when they praise, the world believes no more,
Than when they promise to give scribbling o’er.
‘Tis best sometimes your censure to restrain,
And charitably let the dull be vain:
Your silence there is better than your spite,
For who can rail so long as they can write?
Still humming on, their drowsy course they keep,
And lash’d so long, like tops, are lash’d asleep.
False steps but help them to renew the race,
As after stumbling, jades will mend their pace.
What crowds of these, impenitently bold,
In sounds and jingling syllables grown old,
Still run on poets, in a raging vein,
Even to the dregs and squeezings of the brain,
Strain out the last, dull droppings of their sense,
And rhyme with all the rage of impotence!
While critics should be free to express their opinion, Pope cautions that they should be careful not to offend powerful or sensitive people. “Appius” in line 585 alludes to Appius Claudius Caecus, a Roman politician, known for his conservative views and being easily angered by perceived slights. The volatile critic “reddens at each word” of criticism, and his angry gaze is compared in a simile to a “fierce tyrant in an old tapestry,” which evokes a sense of theatrical and grand aspect to his fury.
The best approach is not to criticize an important or respected person, even when they are not very intelligent or skilled. In fact, Pope even suggests that they have the right to be that way. In lines 590-591, he compares them to occasional poets without the necessary “wit”. He furthers this comparison with another simile, which likens them to those who achieve status and recognition (“degrees”) without the requisite knowledge (“learning”).
So, continues Pope, one should not speak harsh truths that may not be well-received, as they can lead one into trouble. One should also beware of the flatterer who praises everyone. Their praise is likely as empty as their promises.
Know when to stay silent. It’s not always a good idea to criticize the mediocre work of a dull artist, especially when they are proud of it. Silence is more effective and dignifying than constant complaining. Pope poses a rhetorical question, asking if one can match the endurance of these bad artists.
Lines 600-601 capture the sense of these dull artists stuck in a repetitive cycle, “humming on, their drowsy course”, mindlessly productive and “asleep”, demonstrating the mindlessness of their work. The simile of tops spinning while lashed illustrates how these artists, despite constant criticism, remain active and productive. The continued lashing doesn’t stop them; it keeps them going, numb to feedback and removed from reflection.
The exhausting number and prolificity of the bad poets are illustrated in lines 602-609. Even mistakes metaphorically characterised as “false steps” and “stumbling” will not deter these artists. They are compared in a simile to worn-out horses – “jades” – they rise after a fall and continue in their poor fashion without improvements. The plentiful supply of such artists is emphasised through a metaphor, as they are depicted as “crowds”. They are “bold” as they sing tired tunes, which are represented through synecdoche as “syllables grown old”.
They are so persistent that they keep writing even when completely out of fresh ideas. They “[s]train out the last, dull droppings of their sense,” forcing out the “dregs and squeezings of the brain.” Lines 607-609 convey Pope’s utter exhaustion with creative sterility (“rage of impotence”) in these artists through hyperbole and metaphor.
Lines 610-630
Such shameless bards we have; and yet ’tis true,
There are as mad, abandon’d critics too.
The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read,
With loads of learned lumber in his head,
With his own tongue still edifies his ears,
And always list’ning to himself appears.
All books he reads, and all he reads assails,
From Dryden’s Fables down to Durfey’s Tales.
With him, most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary .
Name a new play, and he’s the poet’s friend,
Nay show’d his faults—but when would poets mend?
No place so sacred from such fops is barr’d,
Nor is Paul’s church more safe than Paul’s churchyard:
Nay, fly to altars; there they’ll talk you dead:
For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
Distrustful sense with modest caution speaks;
It still looks home, and short excursions makes;
But rattling nonsense in full volleys breaks;
And never shock’d, and never turn’d aside,
Bursts out, resistless, with a thund’ring tide.
Having addressed bad poets (“shameless bards”) in lines 584-609, Pope turns to “mad, abandon’d critics” in lines 610-630, echoing his assertion at the poem’s beginning that bad critics are worse than bad poets.
Lines 612 and 613 feature a number of “b” and “l” alliterates as well as the consonance of “k” sounds, which render a choppy and clumsy quality to the lines. This reflects the depiction of the critics within the same lines.
The alliterative “learned lumber” is a metaphor for unprocessed and unorganized stacks of information, conjuring imagery of paper not yet processed into paper, which composes the books for the “bookful blockhead”.
In line 614, “tongue” and “ears” are synecdoches of speech and understanding, reinforcing the idea of self-absorption expressed in the following line; they are never interested in truly engaging a fresh idea. “[E]difies” is also used ironically in this line, highlighting the inability of these critics to improve themselves morally.
“Dryden’s Fables” alludes to ‘Fables, Ancient and Modern,’ the esteemed collection of classical and medieval tales by John Dryden. This is juxtaposed with “Durfey’s Tales”, which is an allusion to the works of Thomas D’urfey’s which were less serious; this illustrates the range of works the bad critic indiscriminately attacks.
This type of critic reads everything and “assails” everything he reads. He entertains unhinged theories about what he reads: he would accuse authors of plagiarism (“steal their works, or buy”), and his review is generally dismissive and negative. He presents himself as influential in literary circles, but is only a know-it-all. He ironically claims to be a poet’s friend, but gives a destructive, self-serving, and unhelpful review.
Lines 621-624 employ parallelism as each line begins with a negative: these depict the image of a critic so self-indulgent that they spout whatever they feel, regardless of how inappropriate the setting or how absurd their claims.
“Fools rush in where angels fear to tread” is perhaps Pope’s best-known aphorism, and lays the foundation for the juxtaposition in lines 626-630, contrasting the propriety of seasoned and well-bred wits (metaphorical “angels”) with the immoderate, unchecked expression of bad critics (“fools”). Lines 626-627 show the true wit in circumspection and prudence. A good critic makes modest claims and does not stray far from principle or established theory (“It still looks home, and short excursions makes”).
Not so the fool, who strays far from established principles and makes extreme claims. Pope breaks the couplet scheme he has maintained until the previous section of text in an interesting way. The careful, quiet “distrustful sense” of the wise is contrasted with “rattling nonsense in full volley breaks” of the bad critic. This metaphor calls forth the imagery of cannon fire on a battlefield, in its chaotic destructiveness. The description of the fool begins in a third rhyme joined to the already complete couplet that describes the way of the wit. Line 628 even ends with “breaks,” signifying a break of order. As if to show the unhinged onrush in the bad critic’s approach, Pope abandons the rhyme and continues the description with a fresh couplet. He caps the description with the metaphor of an incoming wave: “bursts out” blustery and undisciplined, like a thundering tide.
Lines 631-642
But where’s the man, who counsel can bestow,
Still pleas’d to teach, and yet not proud to know?
Unbias’d, or by favour or by spite;
Not dully prepossess’d, nor blindly right;
Though learn’d, well-bred; and though well-bred, sincere;
Modestly bold, and humanly severe?
Who to a friend his faults can freely show,
And gladly praise the merit of a foe?
Blest with a taste exact, yet unconfin’d;
A knowledge both of books and human kind;
Gen’rous converse; a soul exempt from pride;
And love to praise, with reason on his side?
After addressing bad poets and bad critics in the preceding two sections, Pope sketches the attributes of a good artist or critic. Lines 631–642 form a preface to the following sections, where he depicts the profile of classical poets and critics as historical models that reflect his ideal. Pope uses a series of antitheses to present contrasting ideas in close relationship, highlighting their differences and defining the ideal through balance.
The section begins with a rhetorical question and Pope responds with a description of his ideal critic. They are eager to teach, but not arrogant in their learning, and they do not show off to appear superior – “not proud to know”. Fair and open-minded, they are not stuck in their ways like bad critics, who are “dully prepossess’d” and they never believe they are “blindly right,” clinging to a sense of infallibility. These critics are open to new ideas and counter perspectives.
Pope continues this characterization, using parallelism and anaphora in line 635 to create rhythm, highlight contrast, and convey a pleasing balance. They are knowledgeable but still polite and well-mannered. Even when polite, they remain honest. In paradoxical terms, he declares them confident but not arrogant in speaking their mind (“modestly bold”), and gentle and understanding when doling out harsh truths (“humanly severe”). They will show a friend their faults and praise a deserving foe.
Lines 639–643 describe one of excellent “taste” that is “unconfin’d” to a limited or narrow area, someone who learns both from “books” and from interacting with “human kind”. This acknowledges the diversity of being well learned, as one cannot claim to be fully educated through books alone. Good critics should be helpful and open in conversations, free with giving deserved praise, and guided by the personified “reason at his side.”
Lines 643-652
Such once were critics; such the happy few,
Athens and Rome in better ages knew.
The mighty Stagirite first left the shore,
Spread all his sails, and durst the deeps explore:
He steer’d securely, and discover’d far,
Led by the light of the Mæonian Star.
Poets, a race long unconfin’d and free,
Still fond and proud of savage liberty,
Receiv’d his laws; and stood convinc’d ’twas fit,
Who conquer’d nature, should preside o’er wit.
Lines 643-644 suggest that in ancient Athens and Rome, only a few critics were truly excellent and respected. These “happy few” possessed unique skill and wisdom in judging art and literature. Aristotle (“the mighty Stagirite”) is given the honor of pioneer, and lines 645-648 describe him as a brave explorer. This is conveyed through an extended maritime metaphor, as he is depicted as having “left the shore,” “spread his sails,” and “durst the deep explore”. The use of sibilance throughout these lines reinforces the tone of wonder as Aristotle confronted the unexplored. He ventured into uncharted waters of knowledge, to map out the principles of literary criticism – “steer’d securely,” “discover’d far”.
The “Mæonian Star” here is an allusion to the poet Homer, who was from Mæonia, Greece, and whose work was the north star that guided Aristotle. Pope creates strong visual imagery of a sea voyage to portray the boldness and expansiveness of Aristotle’s work.
Lines 649-652 explain that poets, fiercely defensive of their artistic freedom and abhorring confining rules, eventually conceded and accepted Aristotle’s guidelines. The reason for the concession is that since Aristotle had such a deep understanding of Nature (“[w]ho conquer’d nature”), it was he who should set standards for creativity and intelligence. This sense of supremacy is reinforced through Pope’s elevation of Aristotle to a position of power, shown through the word “preside”.
Line 652 also alludes to Aristotle’s vast and systematic body of work that covered nearly every field of human knowledge at the time. This comprehensive understanding of the natural world suggests he has conquered nature and is qualified to govern wit.
Lines 653-664
Horace still charms with graceful negligence,
And without methods talks us into sense,
Will, like a friend, familiarly convey
The truest notions in the easiest way.
He, who supreme in judgment, as in wit,
Might boldly censure, as he boldly writ,
Yet judg’d with coolness, though he sung with fire;
His precepts teach but what his works inspire.
Our critics take a contrary extreme,
They judge with fury, but they write with fle’me:
Nor suffers Horace more in wrong translations
By wits, than critics in as wrong quotations.
After treating Aristotle, the progenitor of literary criticism, Pope moves on to another notable classical forebear, Horace, a Roman lyric poet. This section is a panegyric to his style, judgment, and influence.
He praises Horace as an exemplary critic, but situates him in subtle contrast to Aristotle. Horace is “with graceful negligence” and “without methods us into sense.” He did not follow strict, rigid rules, but his wisdom was unimpeachable. “[G]raceful negligence” is a subtle oxymoron where negligence, which usually has negative connotations, is coupled with the positive adjective, graceful. The phrase suggests a natural and unforced artistry rather than carelessness.
Horace gave advice in a gentle, easy-to-understand way, which Pope likens through a simile to a conversation with a friend. Extremely tasteful and of supreme talent, he judged (“boldly censure”) as he wrote (“boldly writ”), the repetition of “boldly” emphasises his incontrovertible nature. Paradoxically, he was cool-headed in judgment but a fiery, passionate poet. However, he wrote as he taught others to write.
Although Horace, a fiery, brilliant poet himself, “sung with fire”, could evaluate works with a detached and clear-headed view, Pope contrasts him with modern critics, who judge with fury and write with dullness, lacking the very passion they wrongly bring to criticism – “write with fle’me”. Singing with fire and writing with phlegm are metaphors for passionate, inspired art and dull writing, rendered grotesque by the bodily imagery Pope employs. Pope remarks that Horace’s works suffer just as much from poor translations as when critics misuse his words through incorrect quotations.
Lines 665-668
See Dionysius Homer’s thoughts refine,
And call new beauties forth from ev’ry line!
Fancy and art in gay Petronius please,
The scholar’s learning, with the courtier’s ease.
In this short section, Pope makes footnote references to two critics. Dionysius alludes to a Greek scholar who analyzed Homer’s epics – “Homer’s thoughts refine” – with such depth that he discovered new layers of meaning and previously untapped: “new beauties forth from ev’ry line”.
Petronius alludes to a Roman satirist, whose creativity and skillful writing style – “[f]ancy and art” – reflects deep knowledge and intellectual understanding presented in a natural, elegant, and effortless way: “with the courtier’s ease”. Pope uses metaphorical phrasing to describe these critics’ ways of probing the depths of great art.
Lines 669-674
In grave Quintilian’s copious work we find
The justest rules, and clearest method join’d;
Thus useful arms in magazines we place,
All rang’d in order, and dispos’d with grace,
But less to please the eye, than arm the hand,
Still fit for use, and ready at command.
Pope moves on to “grave Quintillian,” which alludes to a respected Roman rhetorician and teacher. His extensive and detailed work is presented as having fair and correct principles – “justest rules” – in a well-organized, easily understood method. Pope compares his organization in lines 671 and 672 to “useful arms in a magazine” in a military metaphor; neatly arranged and pleasantly organized. Crucially, Pope states that this arrangement is for a purpose: form follows function. They are not meant to look pretty and “please the eye,” but “arm the hand” for practical use, always prepared and accessible for immediate application.
In this section, Pope uses a structure of phrases that creates visual parallelism: “justest rules” and “clearest method”, “rang’d in order” and “dispos’d with grace”, “fit for use” and “ready at command”. This emphasizes the idea of order and balance in Quintilian’s work.
Antithesis and synecdoche are used in line 673: the eye represents aesthetic appreciation and the hand represents ready application.
Interestingly, “grave Quintilian”, in his serious mode, contrasts sharply with Horace in his “graceful negligence”. This shows the great range of characters in the ranks of good critics, demonstrating that Pope – like a good critic – is willing to be flexible and accepting of others’ work.
Lines 675-680
Thee, bold Longinus! all the Nine inspire,
And bless their critic with a poet’s fire.
An ardent judge, who zealous in his trust,
With warmth gives sentence, yet is always just;
Whose own example strengthens all his laws;
And is himself that great sublime he draws.
Pope opens this stanza with an apostrophe praising Longius, which alludes to the Greek rhetorician and critic known for his work ‘On the Sublime,’ although this identity is often debated. He is described as divinely inspired with “a poet’s fire,” a metaphor for passion, insight, and creative energy, as a critic. He approaches his roles as critic with zeal and warmth, but delivers fair, impartial judgment.
His personal example reinforces his own work and critical principles, and from this personal example, he draws his rules. In line 680, “sublime” may be a direct and deliberate allusion by Pope to Longinus’s famous treatise. The entire passage uses hyperbolic praise to present Longinus as a perfect ideal.
The “Nine” alludes to the Muses of Greek mythology, demonstrating the divine intervention which is necessary to facilitate Longinus’ genius.
Lines 681-692
Thus long succeeding critics justly reign’d,
Licence repress’d, and useful laws ordain’d;
Learning and Rome alike in empire grew,
And arts still follow’d where her eagles flew;
From the same foes, at last, both felt their doom,
And the same age saw learning fall, and Rome.
With tyranny, then superstition join’d,
As that the body, this enslav’d the mind;
Much was believ’d, but little understood,
And to be dull was constru’d to be good;
A second deluge learning thus o’er-run,
And the monks finish’d what the Goths begun.
In tracing a historical arc (lines 681–692), Pope arrives at the end of the Roman Empire and the golden classical age of art. With the Empire’s decline came a dark age, during which its ideals faded.
In the past, when the lineage of wise critics held sway, they stopped bad practices and established useful guidelines for poetry and art. The growth of the Roman Empire contributed to the spread of arts and learning. The “eagles” in line 684 allude to the Roman standard, Aquila, and are used as a metaphor for the spread of Rome’s military might and imperial reach.
However, the same enemies that caused the fall of the Roman Empire also led to the decline of learning and the arts that had flourished under her. Two damaging forces – here personified – accompanied Rome’s collapse and, by extension, undermined the arts: tyranny, the harsh and oppressive rule that enslaved “the body,” and superstition, blind belief without reason, which “enslav’d the mind.” During this period of decline, people believed without understanding. Deep thought was discouraged, and ignorance and a lack of creativity were praised.
“Deluge” here alludes to Noah’s flood, which wiped away the primordial world. Pope explains that learning suffered two such deluges. The first, caused by the Goths, a reference to the barbarian tribes that sacked Rome, began the destruction of classical learning. The second was carried out by monks, who completed this decline through their focus on religious dogma and lack of intellectual curiosity. This section alludes indirectly to the Dark Ages.
Lines 693-696
At length Erasmus, that great, injur’d name,
(The glory of the priesthood, and the shame!)
Stemm’d the wild torrent of a barb’rous age,
And drove those holy Vandals off the stage.
Pope moves from describing a period of intellectual decline (to “barb’rous age”) to a time of reclaiming championed by pivotal figure Erasmus, an allusion to Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus, a famous Dutch Renaissance humanist and Catholic priest. Pope frames him as standing courageously against the prevailing ignorance and rigid thinking of his time. He was a “great, injur’d name,” both praised for his intellect, but criticized for his reformist ideas. Line 694 captures Erasmus’ paradoxical position: an intellectual beacon of the Church whose critiques exposed its flaws; he was admired and scorned within its ranks.
Erasmus is described in lines 695-696 as stemming a “wild torrent” of intellectual darkness, continuing the metaphor of a destructive flood from the last section, and driving off “holy Vandals,” an allusion referring to another barbaric tribe, who overran Rome together with the Goths. This ironic metaphor casts the monks of the last section as metaphorical barbarians in their blind dogmatic scholarship (holy suggests sanctity, and vandals are associated with unwarranted destruction). In his intellectual pushback that paved the way for renewed learning and critical thought, Erasmus diminished the influence of the monks (“drove those holy Vandals off the stage”).
Lines 697-708
But see! each Muse, in Leo’s golden days,
Starts from her trance, and trims her wither’d bays!
Rome’s ancient genius, o’er its ruins spread,
Shakes off the dust, and rears his rev’rend head!
Then sculpture and her sister-arts revive;
Stones leap’d to form, and rocks began to live;
With sweeter notes each rising temple rung;
A Raphael painted, and a Vida sung.
Immortal Vida! on whose honour’d brow
The poet’s bays and critic’s ivy grow:
Cremona now shall ever boast thy name,
As next in place to Mantua, next in fame!
Pope continues on the revival theme, which began in the last section, focusing on and celebrating a specific historical context, the Renaissance.
In lines 697 and 698, “Leo’s golden days” alludes to the Renaissance under Pope Leo X. It is also a metaphor for a time of great prosperity and excellence, when arts and learning thrived in Rome. The Muses awake from their “trance” and start tending to their “wither’d bays”. Bays, a symbol of poetic honor, is here used as a metaphor, and the lines suggest revitalization after a period of decline.
Pope personifies the brilliant spirit of ancient Rome as an old man waking up. He “shakes off the dust” of its period of decay, its former intellectual glory rediscovered, and “rears his rev’rend head.” Once buried and forgotten, Rome’s old and great ideas are now being dug up and celebrated.
Lines 701 and 702 present the resurgence of sculpture and other related art forms. Sculpture is personified as having siblings, with whom she awakens. Pope uses the vivid imagery of reanimated stone and vivified rock to show the incredible skill of artists who could transform this dull, lifeless matter into lifelike and expressive art.
The metaphor of sweet notes ringing in temples within lines 697 and 698 invokes the reawakening Muses. Master artists (Raphael and Vida) also excelled in various arts (painting and poetry). Raphael alludes to one of the most famous Italian painters of the Renaissance, known for his Madonnas. Vida is an allusion to Marco Girolamo Vida, an Italian bishop, poet, and literary critic, known for his epic poem ‘Christiad‘ and his didactic poem ‘Poeticorum libri tres’ (Art of Poetry).
Pope uses an apostrophe in line 706 to begin a panegyric to Vida that continues to 709. “The poet’s bays and the critic’s ivy grow” combines two symbols. Bays symbolize poetic acclaim, while ivy, traditionally linked to eternal life or close association, represents lasting critical insight or fame; together, they signify a thriving union of these two talents. In hyperbolic praise, Pope refers to Vida as immortal, and in comparing the birthplace of Vida (Cremona) to the revered Roman poet Virgil’s native town (Mantua), he suggests that Vida is of comparable importance in the literary world.
Lines 709-744
But soon by impious arms from Latium chas’d,
Their ancient bounds the banished Muses pass’d;
Thence arts o’er all the northern world advance;
But critic-learning flourish’d most in France.
The rules a nation born to serve, obeys,
And Boileau still in right of Horace sways.
But we, brave Britons, foreign laws despis’d,
And kept unconquer’d, and uncivilis’d,
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 presum’d, and better knew,
Who durst assert the juster ancient cause,
And here restor’d wit’s fundamental laws.
Such was the Muse, whose rules and practice tell
“Nature’s chief master-piece is writing well.”
Such was Roscommon—not more learn’d than good,
With manners gen’rous as his noble blood;
To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known,
And ev’ry author’s merit, but his own.
Such late was Walsh—the Muse’s judge and friend,
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:
The Muse, whose early voice you taught to sing,
Prescrib’d her heights, and prun’d her tender wing,
(Her guide now lost) no more attempts to rise,
But in low numbers short excursions tries:
Content, if hence th’ unlearn’d their wants may view,
The learn’d reflect on what before they knew:
Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame,
Still pleas’d to praise, yet not afraid to blame,
Averse alike to flatter, or offend,
Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.
In the last section, Pope brings his historical exploration of the art of criticism up to his contemporary age. Lines 709 and 710 allude to a specific historical event: the Sack of Rome in 1527. Following a dispute between the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V and Pope Clement VII, the unpaid troops of Charles V (mostly German and Spanish mercenaries) mutinied and launched a devastating attack on Rome (“by impious arms from Latium chas’d”), the likes of which the city had never seen since the fall of the Roman Empire. “Latium” alludes to an ancient region of Italy and hints at the classical roots of art.
This attack left Rome ruined, its population scattered, and its cultural life dead. Most scholars even consider this to be the end of the Renaissance, as the event displaced Rome’s artists and intellectuals, which is alluded to with “[t]heir ancient bounds the banished Muses pass’d”. They carried Renaissance ideals and practices to other parts of Europe – “advance o’er all the northern world” – establishing new centers of cultural flourishing.
Following this dispersal, France emerged as a center of literary criticism, which is reflected in line 712. French critics, like Boileau, studied and promoted literary rules based on the classical model – especially Horace. In a subtle, ironic comment, Pope hints at what he perceived as a French tendency to follow rules and obey authority that made it possible for a critic like Boileau, an authority on Horace, to hold sway over the French literary community.
Pope contrasts this with the British approach: fiercely and proudly independent, despising “foreign laws” championed by the French. He uses the terms “unconquered, and uncivilized” with some irony; they show a British pride in their singular, less formal artistic spirit – “[f]ierce for the liberties of wit, and bold”. He also alludes to Britannia’s historic resistance to the Roman conquest in line 718, as opposed to Rome’s ability to administer Gaul effectively, and extends the metaphor to England’s refusal to be intellectually conquered by Roman-derived literary rules that the French adopted and promote.
Despite the general defiance of the English against French-imposed rules, Pope clarifies that some English figures did understand the wisdom of and sought to restore the “juster ancient cause,” and grasped the principles of good writing from antiquity as the French did: “restor’d wit’s fundamental laws”.
Pope uses an anaphora throughout this section in the repetition of “Such”. These are used to introduce and give examples of the ideal critic according to the neoclassical principles expressed throughout the poem and encapsulated in line 724.
Roscommon, one of the exemplary critics, alludes to Lord Roscommon, a Reformation-era critic whom Pope praised for his wisdom, good character, classical knowledge, and humility. He represents the well-rounded and gracious judge of literature: “not more learn’d than good”.
The second, Walsh, alludes to John Walsh, Pope’s own mentor. Pope here praises him as a fair and insightful critic, a “judge and friend,” who balances mildness in addressing faults with eager praise for merit.
Pope uses apostrophe in his praise of Walsh in line 733, acknowledging him as his mentor who, in an implied avian metaphor, “taught [his] early voice to sing.” Pope refers to himself as a Muse in the mold of Roscommon and Walsh. Continuing the bird metaphor, Pope describes himself as a fledgling Walsh tended to in Pope’s early days – “[p]rescrib’d her heights, and prun’d her tender wing”. With Walsh gone, “[h]er guide now lost”, Pope now has to add his own modest efforts to the feats of the greats, as shown in lines 737 and 738.
Pope ends this literary lineage with a humble self-presentation in lines 738-744, defining his own purpose as a critic. He does not seek fame or avoid criticism. Rather, his aim is to help both the “unlearn’d” see their shortcomings and the “learn’d” to reflect on their existing knowledge. His ideal is to be a balanced, honest critic (“pleased to praise, yet not afraid to blame”), avoiding flattery or unnecessary offense, and always open to self-improvement, in the rational and detached manner of a Neoclassical critic.
FAQs
Pope laments that criticism has declined. While in the past it was driven by sincere appreciation and understanding of art, in his days it was often driven by envy, arrogance, and ignorance. Pope also makes moral character a prerequisite for criticism.
Pope, as a literary figure of the Neoclassical period, presents these figures as exemplary models of balanced and wise criticism and uses their legacy to argue for a return to principled critical standards. Aristotle receives a place of honor in his pantheon for having laid the foundations of classical literary criticism.
Catholicism, like Pope’s ideal literary principles, upholds authority, hierarchy, and historical continuity, and this framework is mirrored in Pope’s admiration for classical critics. Pope sees good criticism not as invention but a faithful transmission of revealed and timeless principles, and echoes the Catholic view of theology as tradition handed down through the ages.
Pope makes a distinction in ‘An Essay on Criticism‘ between wit and judgment. Wit is imaginative force, and not just verbal cleverness. It is a knack for fine expression and elegant composition, but it has a tendency to become flashy without substance. In contrast, judgment is a grounding force representing the faculty for discerning truth. Both senses are necessary for art and criticism. Wit dazzles while judgment ensures that art endures.
To fully understand ‘An Essay on Criticism‘, we recommend exploring Part I and Part II of our analysis, too.
