o
himself; and it may be remarked, in passing, that if this narrows the
range of Pope's poetry, the error is not so vital as a modern delusion
of the opposite kind. Because poetry should not be brought into too
close a contact with the prose of daily life, we sometimes seem to think
that it must have no relation to daily life at all, and consequently
convert it into a mere luxurious dreaming, where the beautiful very
speedily degenerates into the pretty or the picturesque. Because poetry
need not be always a point-blank fire of moral platitudes, we
occasionally declare that there is no connection at all between poetry
and morality, and that all art is good which is for the moment
agreeable. Such theories must end in reducing all poetry and art to be
at best more or less elegant trifling for the amusement of the indolent;
and to those who uphold them Pope's example may be of some use. If he
went too far in the direction of identifying poetry with preaching, he
was not wrong in assuming that poetry should involve preaching, though
by an indirect method. Morality and art are not independent, though not
identical. Both, as Mr. Ruskin urges in the passage just quoted, are
only admirable when the expression of healthful and noble natures. But,
without discussing that thorny problem and certainly without committing
myself to an approval of Mr. Ruskin's solution, I am content to look at
it for the time from Pope's stand-point.

Taking Pope's view of his poetical office, there remain considerable
difficulties in estimating the value of the lesson which he taught with
so much energy. The difficulties result both from that element which was
common to his contemporaries and from that which was supplied by Pope's
own idiosyncrasies. The commonplaces in which Pope takes such infinite
delight have become very stale for us. Assuming their perfect sincerity,
we cannot understand how anybody should have thought of enforcing them
with such amazing emphasis. We constantly feel a shock like that which
surprises the reader of Young's 'Night Thoughts' when he finds it
asserted, in all the pomp of blank verse, that

Procrastination is the thief of time.

The maxim has rightly been consigned to copy-books. And a great deal of
Pope's moralising is of the same order. We do not want denunciations of
misers. Nobody at the present day keeps gold in an old stocking. When
we read the observation,

'Tis strange the miser should his cares em