We may agree, too, that his peculiar style was in a sense artificial, even in the days of Pope.

It had come into existence during the reign of the Restoration wits, under the influence of foreign models, not as the spontaneous outgrowth of a gradual development, and had therefore something mechanical and conscious, even when it flourished most vigorously.

It came in with the periwigs, to which it is so often compared, and, like the artificial headgear, was an attempt to give a dignified or full-dress appearance to the average prosaic human being.
Having this innate weakness of pomposity and exaggeration, it naturally expired, and became altogether ridiculous, with the generation to which it belonged.

As the wit or man of the world had at bottom a very inadequate conception of epic poetry, he became inevitably strained and contorted when he tried to give himself the airs of a poet.
After making all such deductions, it would still seem that the bare fact that he was working in a generally accepted style gave Pope a very definite advantage.

He spoke more or less in a falsetto, but he could at once strike a key intelligible to his audience.