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Wit and Nature | An Essay on Criticism

Alexander Pope (1688–1744)

An Essay on Criticism stands as one of the earliest seminal works composed by the esteemed English poet Alexander Pope (1688–1744). Published in 1711, when Pope was merely 22 years old, the poem has become the origin of several renowned maxims, including "To err is human; to forgive, divine," "A little learning is a dangerous thing" (often misquoted as "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing"), and "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

The critique of Nature and Wit delves into the intricate relationship between the raw magnificence of the natural world and the cultivated, yet occasionally flawed, expressions of human intellect. It evaluates the equilibrium between organic beauty and refined wit, underscoring their pivotal roles in shaping human perception and comprehension.

Pope invokes the concepts of Nature and Wit to construct not merely a unified critical framework but an overarching sensibility—what Patricia Meyer Spacks terms “a system of feeling and belief concerning broader issues than doctrine.” An Essay on Criticism enables a revitalized perspective on its enduring and often elusive authority. Pope’s principal directive, “First follow NATURE,” elevates Nature as a foundational principle of order, essential for shaping judgment, and as a wellspring of creative vitality—that “Light” which imparts ‘Life, Force, and Beauty’ to all.” Throughout the poem, Pope continually juxtaposes imagery of restraint and energy, portraying humanity’s ceaseless endeavor to align itself with Nature. Charles Sanders proposes that Nature itself embodies a “harmony or synthesis between reason and imagination, between prudence and expansiveness, between judgment and wit.”

One of the poem’s most debated couplets reinforces this perspective by attributing a singular, all-encompassing function to Wit:

"Some, to whom Heav’n in Wit has been profuse, / Want as much more, to turn it to its use."

Scholars have frequently noted that Pope assigns Wit a divine creative force akin to the Romantic Imagination, positioning Nature as a principle of totality that integrates both control and dynamism within art. William Empson characterizes this tendency as “a drift towards the drawing room.”

Nature as an ultimate ideal represents the final purpose to which art aspires, reinforcing its imagery as a model for poets to emulate—provided they do not lack the Art derived from Nature as its source. This aligns with the Neoplatonic vision of Plotinus, wherein all creation emanates from a singular divine origin, including human artistic expression. As in An Essay on Man, Nature’s inherent boundaries merely manifest the divine creative power that permeates her essence. Similarly, in An Essay on Criticism, Nature’s Beauty (traditionally linked to forma) and her Force coalesce with the Life that animates her. Nature functions as the genesis of art, which mirrors her grandeur in microcosm, acting as a soul that imbues “some fair Body” with vitality.

The command to “follow NATURE” employs the image of Nature as an all-encompassing entity to delineate humanity’s inherent limitations. This notion of incompleteness and subsequent disarray is extensively developed in the renowned “Alps on Alps” passage. Here, the young mind, striving to grasp the ever-expanding vastness of Art and Nature, fails to perceive the “Lengths behind” and discovers instead “New, distant Scenes of endless Science rise!”

Within the proper hierarchy, man’s role is merely to follow Nature. The “follow NATURE” passage, with its opening directive to “frame” one’s judgment as a corrective to “pretending Wit,” ultimately elevates Nature’s role as humanity’s supreme objective.

Man’s “pretending Wit” is a flawed imitation of Nature’s perfect order, serving only as an incomplete reflection of her design. An Essay on Criticism presents yet another vital analogy of the artistic process and its limitations: the poet as a painter. Emerging from the “glimm’ring Light” and “Lines” traced by Nature, this imagery recurs throughout the poem, symbolizing sketching, outlining, and designing. Pope’s assertion, “Fools Admire, but Men of Sense Approve,” closely echoes Horace’s Art of Poetry and, more broadly, the Stoic maxim Nil Admirari.

Pope extends his analogy further, depicting God as the supreme creative force:

"God as the moving soul generates the form that brings Nature’s ‘Life, Force, and Beauty’ into being; / God as the Master Artist traces the design that perfectly realizes his ‘bright Idea.’"

Pope advises critics to “regard the Writer’s End / since none can compass more than they Intend.” Nature’s grander scope represents the ultimate aspiration of art. However, given that a writer’s ability to conceive and comprehend Art’s Source is inherently constrained, so too is his capacity to attain this ideal. Virgil’s craftsmanship, therefore, is both a drawing from and a drawing upon Nature’s inexhaustible energy.

This pattern suggests yet another nuanced interpretation of Nature as the ultimate aim of Art: if an artist could capture “naked Nature” in its purest form, he would transcend the boundaries of mere artistry. True Wit, however, is not simply suitable attire as opposed to ostentatious embellishment. John Donne, in The Extasie, articulates a similar idea:

"Our blood laboring ‘to beget / Spirits, as like soules as it can.’”

In conclusion, Pope’s An Essay on Criticism intricately dissects the profound interplay between Nature, Wit, and the art of critique, offering perennial insights into the foundations of literary and poetic mastery. Wit, in Pope’s estimation, embodies the intellectual dexterity required to discern and appreciate Nature’s nuances. His central thesis asserts that authentic criticism stems from a profound reverence for Nature—both the external world and the innate essence of human creativity.

Dr. Emily Thornton succinctly captures Pope’s philosophy: “Pope suggests that just as Nature operates through balance and proportion, so too should literary works embody these principles.”

Essay on Criticism
Alexander Pope (1688–1744)