No More Learning

Warburton, a wide-read, pompous, and polemical clergyman, had introduced
himself to the notice of Pope by a defense of the philosophical and
religious principles of the 'Essay on Man'. In spite of the influence of
the free-thinking Bolingbroke, Pope still remained a member of the
Catholic church and sincerely believed himself to be an orthodox, though
liberal, Christian, and he had, in consequence, been greatly
disconcerted by a criticism of his poem published in Switzerland and
lately translated into English. Its author, Pierre de Crousaz,
maintained, and with a considerable degree of truth, that the principles
of Pope's poem if pushed to their logical conclusion were destructive to
religion and would rank their author rather among atheists than
defenders of the faith. The very word "atheist" was at that day
sufficient to put the man to whom it was applied beyond the pale of
polite society, and Pope, who quite lacked the ability to refute in
logical argument the attack of de Crousaz, was proportionately delighted
when Warburton came forward in his defense, and in a series of letters
asserted that Pope's whole intention was to vindicate the ways of God to
man, and that de Crousaz had mistaken his purpose and misunderstood his
language. Pope's gratitude to his defender knew no bounds; he declared
that Warburton understood the 'Essay' better than he did himself; he
pronounced him the greatest critic he ever knew, secured an introduction
to him, introduced him to his own rich and influential friends, in short
made the man's fortune for him outright. When the University of Oxford
hesitated to give Warburton, who had never attended a university, the
degree of D. D. , Pope declined to accept the degree of D. C. L. which had
been offered him at the same time, and wrote the Fourth Book of the
'Dunciad' to satirize the stupidity of the university authorities. In
conjunction with Warburton he proceeded further to revise the whole
poem, for which his new friend wrote notes and a ponderous introduction,
and made the capital mistake of substituting the frivolous, but clever,
Colley Gibber, with whom he had recently become embroiled, for his old
enemy, Theobald, as the hero. And the last year of his life was spent in
getting out new editions of his poems accompanied by elaborate
commentaries from the pen of Warburton.

In the spring of 1744, it was evident that Pope was failing fast. In
addition to his other ailments he was now attacked by an asthmatical
dropsy, which no efforts of his physicians could remove.
Yet he
continued to work almost to the last, and distributed copies of his
'Ethic Epistles' to his friends about three weeks before his death, with
the smiling remark that like the dying Socrates he was dispensing his
morality among his friends. His mind began to wander; he complained that
he saw all things as through a curtain, and told Spence once "with a
smile of great pleasure and with the greatest softness" that he had seen
a vision. His friends were devoted in their attendance. Bolingbroke sat
weeping by his chair, and on Spence's remarking how Pope with every
rally was always saying something kindly of his friends, replied: "I
never in my life knew a man that had so tender a heart for his
particular friends, or a more general friendship for mankind. I have
known him these thirty years; and value myself more for that man's love
than"--here his head dropped and his voice broke in tears. It was
noticed that whenever Patty Blount came into the room, the dying flame
of life flashed up in a momentary glow. At the very end a friend
reminded Pope that as a professed Catholic he ought to send for a
priest. The dying man replied that he did not believe it essential, but
thanked him for the suggestion. When the priest appeared, Pope attempted
to rise from his bed that he might receive the sacrament kneeling, and
the priest came out from the sick room "penetrated to the last degree
with the state of mind in which he found his penitent, resigned and
wrapt up in the love of God and man. " The hope that sustained Pope to
the end was that of immortality. "I am so certain of the soul's being
immortal," he whispered, almost with his last breath, "that I seem to
feel it within me, as it were by intuition. " He died on the evening of
May 30, so quietly that his friends hardly knew that the end had come.
He was buried in Twickenham Church, near the monument he had erected to
his parents, and his coffin was carried to the grave by six of the
poorest men of the parish.

It is plain even from so slight a sketch as this that the common
conception of Pope as "the wicked wasp of Twickenham," a bitter,
jealous, and malignant spirit, is utterly out of accord with the facts
of his life. Pope's faults of character lie on the surface, and the most
perceptible is that which has done him most harm in the eyes of
English-speaking men. He was by nature, perhaps by training also,
untruthful.