In golden chains the willing world she draws,
And hers the gospel is, and hers the laws;
Mounts the tribunal, lifts her scarlet head,
And sees pale Virtue carted in her stead.")

But they are brief, seem the result of momentary moods rather than the
spray of a strong, steady current; and he soon turns from them to the
expression of his petty chagrins and personal animosities. In satire, he
has not the indomitable pace and deep-mouthed bellow of a Juvenal,
pursuing his object like a bloodhound: he resembles more a half-angry,
half-playful terrier. To obtain a terse and musical expression for his
thought is his artistic purpose, but that of his mind and moral nature
is not so apparent in his poetry. Indeed, we are tempted at times to
class him with his own sylphs in this respect, as well as in the
elegance and swiftness of his genius. They neither belonged to heaven
nor hell, but vibrated between in graceful gyrations. They laughed at,
and toyed with, all things--never rising to dangerous heights, never
sinking into profound abysses--fancying a lock a universe, and a
universe only a larger lock--dancing like evening ephemerae in the
sunbeam, which was to be their sepulchre, and shutting their tiny eyes
to all the solemn responsibilities, grave uncertainties, and mysterious
destinies of human nature. And so, too often, did their poet.

Pope's special faculties are easily seen, and may be briefly enumerated.
Destitute of the highest imagination, and perhaps of constructive
power--(he has produced many brilliant parts, and many little, but no
large wholes)--he is otherwise prodigally endowed. He has a keen,
strong, clear intellect, which, if it seldom reaches sublimity, never
fails to eliminate sense. He has wit of a polished and vigorous
kind--less easy, indeed, than Addison's, the very curl of whose lip was