What more would, or at least should, his lordship desire? Pope is, by his own showing, a great favourite with many wherever the English language is spoken, and that, too, a century after his death. And there are few critics who would refuse to subscribe, on the whole, Lord Carlisle's enumeration of the Poet's qualities; his terse and motto-like lines--the elaborate gloss of his mock-heroic vein--the tenderness of his pathos--the point and polished strength of his satire--the force and _vraisemblance_ of his descriptions of character--the delicacy and refinement of his compliments, "each of which," says Hazlitt, "is as good as an house or estate"--and the heights of moral grandeur into which he can at times soar, whenever he has manly indignation, or warm-hearted patriotism, or high-minded scorn to express. If Lord Carlisle's object, then, was to elevate Pope to the rank of a classic, it was a superfluous task; if it was to justify the Commissioners in placing him on a level with Chaucer, Shakspeare, Spenser, and Milton, our remarks will show that we think it as vain as superfluous. In endeavouring to fix the rank of a poet, there are, we think, the following elements to be analysed:--His original genius--his kind and degree of culture--his purpose--his special faculties--the works he has written--and the amount of impression he has made on, and impulse he has given to, his own age and the world. In other words, what were his native powers, and what has he done, _for_, _by_, and _with_ them?