And shall we cut ourselves off from beauties like these with a theory?  Shall we shut up our books, and seal up our senses, to please the dull spite and inordinate vanity of those “who have eyes, but they see not—­ears, but they hear not—­and understandings, but they understand not,”—­and go about asking our blind guides, whether Pope was a poet or not?  It will never do.  Such persons, when you point out to them a fine passage in Pope, turn it off to something of the same sort in some other writer.  Thus they say that the line, “I lisp’d in numbers, for the numbers came,” is pretty, but taken from that of Ovid—­Et quum conabar scribere, versus erat.  They are safe in this mode of criticism:  there is no danger of any one’s tracing their writings to the classics.

Pope’s letters and prose writings neither take away from, nor add to his poetical reputation.  There is, occasionally, a littleness of manner, and an unnecessary degree of caution.  He appears anxious to say a good thing in every word, as well as every sentence.  They, however, give a very favourable idea of his moral character in all respects; and his letters to Atterbury, in his disgrace and exile, do equal honour to both.  If I had to choose, there are one or two persons, and but one or two, that I should like to have been better than Pope!

Dryden was a better prose-writer, and a bolder and more varied versifier than Pope.  He was a more vigorous thinker, a more correct and logical declaimer, and had more of what may be called strength of mind than Pope; but he had not the same refinement and delicacy of feeling.  Dryden’s eloquence and spirit were possessed in a higher degree by others, and in nearly the same degree by Pope himself; but that by which Pope was distinguished, was an essence which he alone possessed, and of incomparable value on that sole account.  Dryden’s Epistles are excellent, but inferior to Pope’s, though they appear (particularly the admirable one to Congreve) to have been the model on which the latter formed his.  His Satires are better than Pope’s.  His Absalom and Achitophel is superior, both in force of invective and discrimination of character, to any thing of Pope’s in the same way.  The character of Achitophel is very fine; and breathes, if not a sincere love for virtue, a strong spirit of indignation against vice.

Mac Flecknoe is the origin of the idea of the Dunciad; but it is less elaborately constructed, less feeble, and less heavy.  The difference between Pope’s satirical portraits and Dryden’s, appears to be this in a good measure, that Dryden seems to grapple with his antagonists, and to describe real persons; Pope seems to refine upon them in his own mind, and to make them out just what he pleases, till they are not real characters, but the mere driveling effusions of his spleen and malice.  Pope describes the thing, and then goes on describing his own description till he loses himself in verbal repetitions.