France, was scorned by the eighteenth-century poet-gardeners. Why?
Because it was "artificial," and the eighteenth century must have
"nature"--nay passion. There seems to be some plan of passion in Pope's
grotto, stuck with spar and little shells.

Truly the age of the "Rape of the Lock" and the "Elegy" was an age of
great wit and great poetry. Yet it was untrue to itself. I think no
other century has cherished so persistent a self-conscious incongruity.
As the century of good sense and good couplets it might have kept
uncompromised the dignity we honour. But such inappropriate pranks have
come to pass in history now and again. The Bishop of Hereford, in merry
Barnsdale, "danced in his boots"; but he was coerced by Robin Hood.