OLIVER GOLDSMITH
(M. W. Bunbury)
PORTRAITS of Goldsmith are not numerous; and the best known are those of Reynolds and H. W. Bunbury. That by Sir Joshua was painted in 1766-70, and exhibited in the Royal Academy (No. 151) from April 24th to May 28th in the latter year. It represents the poet in a plain white collar, furred mantle open at the neck, and holding a book in his right hand. Its general characteristics are given at p. xxviii of the 'Introduction.' It was scraped in mezzotint in 1770 by Reynolds's Italian pupil, Giuseppe, or Joseph Marchi; and it is dated 1st December.* Bunbury's portrait first appeared, after Goldsmith's death, as a frontispiece to the Haunch of Venison; and it was etched in facsimile by James Bretherton. The plate is dated May 24, 1776. In his loyal but despotic Life of Goldsmith (Bk. iv, ch. 6), Mr. John Forster reproduces these portraits side by side; in order, he professes, to show 'the distinction between truth and a caricature of it.' Bunbury, it may be, was primarily a caricaturist, and possibly looked at most things from a more or less grotesque point of view; but this sketch—it should be observed—was meant for a likeness, and we have the express testimony of one who, if she was Bunbury's sister-in-law, was also Goldsmith's friend, that it rendered Goldsmith accurately. It 'gives the head with admirable fidelity'—says the 'Jessamy Bride' (afterwards Mrs. Gwyn)—'as he actually lived among us; nothing can exceed its truth' (Prior's Life, 1837, ii. 380). In other words, it delineates Goldsmith as his contemporaries saw him, with bulbous
*This was the print to which Goldsmith referred in a well-known anecdote. Speaking to his old Peckham pupil, Samuel Bishop, whom, after many years, he met accidentally in London, he asked him eagerly whether he had got an engraving of the new portrait, and finding he had not, 'said with some emotion, "if your picture had been published, I should not have suffered an hour to elapse without procuring it."' But he was speedily 'appeased by apologies.' (Prior's Life, 1837, i. 219- 20.)
forehead, indecisive chin, and long protruding upper lip,—awkward, insignificant, ill at ease,—restlessly burning 'to get in and shine.' It enables us moreover to understand how people who knew nothing of his better and more lovable qualities, could speak of him as an 'inspired idiot,' as 'silly Dr. Goldsmith,' as 'talking like poor Poll.' It is, in short, his external, objective presentment. The picture by Sir Joshua, on the contrary, is almost wholly subjective. Draped judiciously in a popular studio costume, which is not that of the sitter's day, it reveals to us the author of The Deserted Village as Reynolds conceived him to be at his best, serious, dignified, introspective, with his physical defects partly extenuated by art, partly over-mastered by his intellectual power. To quote the 'Jessamy Bride' once more—it is 'a fine poetical head for the admiration of posterity, but as it is divested of his wig and with the shirt collar open, it was not the man as seen in daily life' (Ib. ii. 380). Had Goldsmith lived in our era of photography, photography would doubtless have given us something which would have been neither the one nor the other, but more like Bunbury than Reynolds. Yet we may be grateful for both. For Bunbury's sketch and Reynolds's portrait are alike indispensable to the true comprehension of Goldsmith's curiously dual personality.*
The portrait by Reynolds, above referred to, was painted for the Thrale Gallery at Streatham, on the dispersion of which, in May, 1816, it was bought for the Duke of Bedford for £133 7s. It is now at Woburn Abbey (Cat. No. 254). At Knole, Lord Sackville possesses another version (Cat. No. 239), which was purchased in 1773 by the Countess Delawarr, and was shown at South Kensington in 1867. Here the dress is a black coat and a brown mantle with fur. The present owner exhibited it at the Guelph Exhibition of 1891. A third version, now in the Irish National Gallery, once belonged to Goldsmith himself, and then to his brother-in- law, Daniel Hodson. Finally there is a copy, by a pupil of Reynolds, in the National Portrait Gallery, to which
*There is in existence another undated etching by Bretherton after Bunbury on a larger scale, which comes much nearer to Reynolds; and it is of course possible, though not in our opinion probable, that Mrs. Gwyn may have referred to this. But Forster selected the other for his comparison; it is prefixed to the Haunch of Venison; it is certainly the better known; and (as we believe) cannot ever have been intended for a caricature.
it was bequeathed in 1890 by Dr. Leifchild, having formerly been the property of Caleb Whitefoord. Caleb Whitefoord also had an 'admirable miniature' by Reynolds, which belongs to the Rev. Benjamin Whitefoord, Hon. Canon of Salisbury (Whitefoord Papers, 1898, p. xxvii). A small circular print, based upon Reynolds, and etched by James Basire, figures on the title-page of Retaliation. Some of the plates are dated April 18, 1774.* The National Portrait Gallery has also a silhouette, attributed to Ozias Humphry, R.A., which was presented in 1883 by Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.B. Then there is the portrait by Hogarth shown at South Kensington in 1867 by the late Mr. Studley Martin of Liverpool. It depicts the poet writing at a round table in a black cap, claret- coloured coat and ruffles. Of this there is a wood-cut in the later editions of Forster's Life (Bk. iii, ch. 14). The same exhibition of 1867 contained a portrait of Goldsmith in a brown coat and red waistcoat, 'as a young man.' It was said to be extremely like him in face, and was attributed to Gainsborough. In Evans's edition of the Poetical and Dramatic Works is another portrait engraved by Cook, said, on some copies, to be 'from an original drawing'; and there is in the Print Room at the British Museum yet another portrait still, engraved by William Ridley 'from a painting in the possession of the Rev. Mr. Williams,' no doubt Goldsmith's friend, the Rev. David Williams, founder of the Royal Literary Fund. One of these last may have been the work to which the poet refers in a letter to his brother Maurice in January, 1770. 'I have sent my cousin Jenny [Jane Contarine] a miniature picture of myself . . . The face you well know, is ugly enough, but it is finely painted' (Misc. Works, 1801, p. 88).
In front of Dublin University is a bronze statue of Goldsmith by J. H. Foley, R.A., erected in 1864.† Of this there is a good engraving by G. Stodart. On the memorial in Westminster Abbey erected in 1776 is a medallion by Joseph Nollekens.
*There is also a sketch by Reynolds (?)
at the British Museum.
†Goldsmith's traditional ill-luck pursued him after death.
During some public procession in front of Trinity College, a number
of undergraduates climbed on the statue, with the result that the
thin metal of the poet's head was flattened or crushed in,
requiring for its readjustment very skilful restorative treatment.
The Editor is indebted for this item of information to the kindness
of Mr. Percy Fitzgerald, who was present at the subsequent
operation.
In 1811, the Rev. R. H. Newell, B.D. and Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, issued an edition of the Poetical Works of Goldsmith. The distinctive feature of this lay in the fact that it was illustrated by a number of aquatints 'by Mr. Alkin' (i.e. Samuel Alken), after drawings made by Newell in 1806-9, and was accompanied by a series of 'Remarks, attempting to ascertain, chiefly from local observation, the actual scene of The Deserted Village.' Some quotations from these 'Remarks' have already been made in the foregoing notes; but as copies of six of the drawings are given in this volume, it may be well, in each case, to reproduce Newell's 'descriptions.'
The west end of it, as seen from a field near the road; to the north the country slopes away in coarsely cultivated enclosures, and the distance eastward is bounded by the Longford hills. The stream ran from the south side of the mill (where it is still of some width though nearly choked up), and fell over the once busy wheel, into a deep channel, now overgrown with weeds. Neglect and poverty appear all around. The farm house and barn-like buildings, which fill up the sketch, seem to have no circumstances of interest attached to them (p. 83).
This south-west view was taken from the road, which passes by the church, towards Lishoy, and overlooks the adjacent country to the west. The church appears neat, its exterior having been lately repaired. The tree added to the foreground is the only liberty taken with the subject (p. 83).
An east view of the tree, as it stood in August, 1806. The Athlone road occupies the centre of the sketch, winding round
the stone wall to the right, into the village, and to the left leading toward the church. The cottage and tree opposite the hawthorn, adjoin the present public-house; the avenue before the parsonage tops the distant eminence (p. 84).
In this sketch 'the decent church,' at the top of the hill in the distance, is an important object, from its exact correspondence with the situation given it in the poem. Half-way up stands the solitary ruin of Lord Dillon's castle. The hill in shadow, on the left, is above the village, and is supposed to be alluded to in the line—
Up yonder hill the distant murmur rose.
A flat of bogland extends from the narrow lake in the centre to the mount on the right of the foreground (p. 84).
A south view from the Athlone road, which runs parallel with the stone wall, and nearly east and west: the gateway is that mentioned in Goldsmith's letter,* the mount being directly opposite, in a field contiguous with the road.
The ruinous stone wall in this and three other sketches, which is a frequent sort of fence in the neighbourhood, gives a characteristic propriety to the line (48)
And the long grass o'ertops the mould'ring wall.
(pp. 84-5).
This cottage is situated, as the poem describes it, by the road-side, just where it forms a sharp angle by branching out from the village eastward: at this point a south- west view was taken (p. 85).
Newell's book was reissued in 1820; but no alterations were made in the foregoing descriptions which, it must be borne in
*See note to l. 114 of The Deserted Village.
mind, refer to 1806-9. His enthusiastic identifications will no doubt be taken by the reader with the needful grain of salt. Goldsmith probably remembered the hawthorn bush, the church upon the hill, the watercress gatherer, and some other familiar objects of the 'seats of his youth.' But distance added charm to the regretful retrospect; and in the details his fancy played freely with his memories. It would be unwise, for example, to infer—as Mr. Hogan did—the decorations of the Three Pidgeons at Lissoy from the account of the inn in the poem. Some twelve years before its publication, when he was living miserably in Green Arbour Court, Goldsmith had submitted to his brother Henry a sample of a heroi-comic poem describing a Grub Street writer in bed in 'a paltry ale-house.' In this 'the sanded floor,' the 'twelve good rules' and the broken tea-cups all played their parts as accessories, and even the double-dealing chest had its prototype in the poet's night- cap, which was 'a cap by night—a stocking all the day.' A year or two later he expanded these lines in the Citizen of the World, and the scene becomes the Red Lion in Drury Lane. From this second version he adapted, or extended again, the description of the inn parlour in The Deserted Village. It follows therefore, either that he borrowed for London the details of a house in Ireland, or that he used for Ireland the details of a house in London. If, on the other hand, it be contended that those details were common to both places, then the identification in these particulars of Auburn with Lissoy falls hopelessly to the ground.
Goldsmith's use of 'sentimental' in the 'prologue' to She Stoops to Conquer (p. 109, l. 36)—the only occasion upon which he seems to have employed it in his Poems—affords an excuse for bringing together one or two dispersed illustrations of the rise and growth of this once highly-popular adjective, not as yet
*What follows is taken from the writer's 'Introduction' to Mr. Edwin Abbey's illustrated edition of The Deserted Village, 1902, p. ix.
reached in the N. E. D. Johnson, who must often have heard it, ignores it altogether; and in Todd's edition of his Dictionary (1818) it is expressly marked with a star as one of the modern words which are 'not' to be found in the Doctor's collection. According to Mr. Sidney Lee's admirable article in the Dictionary of National Biography on Sterne, that author is to be regarded as the 'only begetter' of the epithet. Mr. Lee says that it first occurs in a letter of 1740 written by the future author of Tristram Shandy to the Miss Lumley he afterwards married. Here is the precise and characteristic passage:—'I gave a thousand pensive, penetrating looks at the chair thou hadst so often graced, in those quiet and sentimental repasts—then laid down my knife and fork, and took out my handkerchief, and clapped it across my face, and wept like a child' (Sterne's Works by Saintsbury, 1894, v. 25). Nine years later, however circulated, 'sentimental' has grown 'so much in vogue' that it has reached from London to the provinces. 'Mrs. Belfour' (Lady Bradshaigh) writing from Lincolnshire to Richardson says:—'Pray, Sir, give me leave to ask you . . . what, in your opinion, is the meaning of the word sentimental, so much in vogue amongst the polite, both in town and country? In letters and common conversation, I have asked several who make use of it, and have generally received for answer, it is—it is—sentimental. Every thing clever and agreeable is comprehended in that word; but [I] am convinced a wrong interpretation is given, because it is impossible every thing clever and agreeable can be so common as this word. I am frequently astonished to hear such a one is a sentimental man; we were a sentimental party; I have been taking a sentimental walk. And that I might be reckoned a little in the fashion, and, as I thought, show them the proper use of the word, about six weeks ago, I declared I had just received a sentimental letter. Having often laughed at the word, and found fault with the application of it, and this being the first time I ventured to make use of it, I was loudly congratulated upon the occasion: but I should be glad to know your interpretation of it' (Richardson's Correspondence, 1804, iv. pp. 282- 3). The reply of the author of Clarissa, which would have been interesting, is not given; but it is clear that by this date (1749) 'sentimental' must already have been rather overworked by 'the polite.' Eleven years after this we meet with it in the Prologue to Colman's
'Dramatick Novel' of Polly Honeycombe. 'And then,' he says, commenting upon the fiction of the period,—
And then so sentimental is the Stile,
So chaste, yet so bewitching all the while!
Plot, and elopement, passion, rape, and rapture,
The total sum of ev'ry dear—dear—Chapter.
With February, 1768, came Sterne's Sentimental Journey upon which Wesley has this comment:—'I casually took a volume of what is called, "A Sentimental Journey through France and Italy." Sentimental! what is that? It is not English: he might as well say, Continental [!]. It is not sense. It conveys no determinate idea; yet one fool makes many. And this nonsensical word (who would believe it?) is become a fashionable one!' (Journal, February 11, 1772). In 1773, Goldsmith puts it in the 'Dedication' to She Stoops:—'The undertaking a comedy, not merely ^sentimental^, was very dangerous;' and Garrick (forgetting Kelly and False Delicacy) uses it more than once in his 'Prologue' to the same play, e.g.—'Faces are blocks in ^sentimental^ scenes.' Further examples might easily be multiplied, for the word, in spite of Johnson, had now come to stay. Two years subsequently we find Sheridan referring to
The goddess of the woful countenance,
The sentimental Muse!—
in an occasional 'Prologue' to The Rivals. It must already have passed into the vocabulary of the learned. Todd gives examples from Shenstone and Langhorne. Warton has it more than once in his History of English Poetry; and it figures in the Essays of Vicesimus Knox. Thus academically launched, we need no longer follow its fortunes.
To the Aldine edition of 1831, the Rev. John Mitford added several fragments of translation from Goldsmith's Essays. About a third of these were traced by Bolton Corney in 1845 to the Horace of Francis. He therefore compiled a fresh collection, here given.
The shouting army cry'd with joy extreme,
He sure must conquer, who himself can tame!
The Bee, 1759, p. 90.
The next is also from Homer, and is proposed as an improvement of Pope:—
They knew and own'd the monarch of the main:
The sea subsiding spreads a level plain:
The curling waves before his coursers fly:
The parting surface leaves his brazen axle dry.
Miscellaneous Works, 1801, iv. 410.
From the same source comes number three, a quatrain from Vida's Eclogues:—
Say heavenly muse, their youthful frays rehearse;
Begin, ye daughters of immortal verse;
Exulting rocks have crown'd the power of song!
And rivers listen'd as they flow'd along.
Miscellaneous Works, 1801, iv. 427.
Another is a couplet from Ovid, the fish referred to being the scarus or bream:—
Of all the fish that graze beneath the flood,
He, only, ruminates his former food.
History of the Earth, etc., 1774, iii. 6.
Bolton Corney also prints the translation from the Spectator, already given in this volume. His last fragment is from the posthumous translation of Scarron's Roman Comique:—
Thus, when soft love subdues the heart
With smiling hopes and chilling fears,
The soul rejects the aid of art,
And speaks in moments more than years.
The Comic Romance of Monsieur Scarron, 1775, ii. 161.
It is unnecessary to refer to any other of the poems attributed to Goldsmith. Mitford included in his edition a couple of quatrains inserted in the Morning Chronicle for April 3, 1800, which were said to be by the poet; but they do not resemble his manner. Another piece with the title of The Fair Thief was revived in July, 1893, by an anonymous writer in the Daily
Chronicle, as being possibly by Goldsmith, to whom it was assigned in an eighteenth-century anthology (1789-80). Its discoverer, however, subsequently found it given in Walpole's Noble Authors (Park's edition, 1806) to Charles Wyndham, Earl of Egremont. It has no great merit; and may safely be neglected as an important addition to Goldsmith's Works, already burdened with much which that critical author would never have reprinted.
In Letter xvi, vol. ii. pp.139-41, of An History of England in a Series of Letters from a Nobleman to his Son, 1764, Goldsmith gives the following short account of the state of poetry in the first quarter of the Eighteenth Century.
'But, of all the other arts, poetry in this age was carried to the greatest perfection. The language, for some ages, had been improving, but now it seemed entirely divested of its roughness and barbarity. Among the poets of this period we may place John Philips, author of several poems, but of none more admired than that humourous one, entitled, The Splendid Shilling; he lived in obscurity, and died just above want. William Congreve deserves also particular notice; his comedies, some of which were but coolly received upon their first appearance, seemed to mend upon repetition; and he is, at present, justly allowed the foremost in that species of dramatic poesy. His wit is ever just and brilliant; his sentiments new and lively; and his elegance equal to his regularity. Next him Vanbrugh is placed, whose humour seems more natural, and characters more new; but he owes too many obligations to the French, entirely to pass for an original; and his total disregard to decency, in a great measure, impairs his merit. Farquhar is still more lively, and, perhaps more entertaining than either; his pieces still continue the favourite performances of the stage, and bear frequent repetition without satiety; but he often mistakes pertness for wit, and seldom strikes his characters with proper force or originality. However, he died very young; and it is remarkable, that he
continued to improve as he grew older; his last play, entitled The Beaux' Strategem, being the best of his productions. Addison, both as a poet and prose writer, deserves the highest regard and imitation. His Campaign, and Letter to Lord Halifax from Italy, are masterpieces in the former, and his Essays published in the Spectator are inimitable specimens of the latter. Whatever he treated of was handled with elegance and precision; and that virtue which was taught in his writings, was enforced by his example. Steele was Addison's friend and admirer; his comedies are perfectly polite, chaste, and genteel; nor were his other works contemptible; he wrote on several subjects, and yet it is amazing, in the multiplicity of his pursuits, how he found leisure for the discussion of any. Ever persecuted by creditors, whom his profuseness drew upon him, or pursuing impracticable schemes, suggested by ill-grounded ambition. Dean Swift was the professed antagonist both of Addison and him. He perceived that there was a spirit of romance mixed with all the works of the poets who preceded him; or, in other words, that they had drawn nature on the most pleasing side. There still therefore was a place left for him, who, careless of censure, should describe it just as it was, with all its deformities; he therefore owes much of his fame, not so much to the greatness of his genius, as to the boldness of it. He was dry, sarcastic, and severe; and suited his style exactly to the turn of his thought, being concise and nervous. In this period also flourished many of subordinate fame. Prior was the first who adopted the French elegant easy manner of telling a story; but if what he has borrowed from that nation be taken from him, scarce anything will be left upon which he can lay any claim to applause in poetry. Rowe was only outdone by Shakespeare and Otway as a tragic writer; he has fewer absurdities than either; and is, perhaps, as pathetic as they; but his flights are not so bold, nor his characters so strongly marked. Perhaps his coming later than the rest may have contributed to lessen the esteem he deserves. Garth had success as a poet; and, for a time, his fame was even greater than his desert. In his principal work, The Dispensary, his versification is negligent; and his plot is now become tedious; but whatever he may lose as a poet, it would be improper to rob him of the merit he deserves for having written the prose dedication, and preface, to the poem already mentioned; in which he
has shown the truest wit, with the most refined elegance. Parnell, though he has written but one poem, namely, The Hermit, yet has found a place among the English first rate poets. Gay, likewise, by his Fables and Pastorals, has acquired an equal reputation. But of all who have added to the stock of English Poetry, Pope, perhaps, deserves the first place. On him, foreigners look as one of the most successful writers of his time; his versification is the most harmonious, and his correctness the most remarkable of all our poets. A noted contemporary of his own calls the English the finest writers on moral topics, and Pope the noblest moral writer of all the English. Mr. Pope has somewhere named himself the last English Muse; and, indeed, since his time, we have seen scarce any production that can justly lay claim to immortality; he carried the language to its highest perfection; and those who have attempted still farther to improve it, instead of ornament, have only caught finery.'
To The Beauties of English Poesy, 2 vols., 1767, Goldsmith prefixed, in each case, 'short introductory criticisms.' They are, as he says, 'rather designed for boys than men'; and aim only at being 'obvious and sincere'; but they carry his views on the subject somewhat farther than the foregoing account from the History of England.
This seems to be Mr. Pope's most finished production, and is, perhaps, the most perfect in our language. It exhibits stronger powers of imagination, more harmony of numbers, and a greater knowledge of the world, than any other of this poet's works; and it is probable, if our country were called upon to show a specimen of their genius to foreigners, this would be the work here fixed upon.
This poem is held in just esteem, the versification being chaste, and tolerably harmonious, and the story told with perspicuity and conciseness. It seems to have cost great labour, both to Mr. Pope and Parnell himself, to bring it to this perfection.* It may not be amiss to observe that the fable is taken from one of Dr. Henry More's Dialogues.
I have heard a very judicious critic say, that he had an higher idea of Milton's style in poetry, from the two following poems [Il Penseroso and l'Allegro], than from his Paradise Lost. It is certain the imagination shown in them is correct and strong. The introduction to both in irregular measure is borrowed from the Italian, and hurts an English ear.
This is a very fine poem, but overloaded with epithet.† The heroic measure with alternate rhyme is very properly adapted to the solemnity of the subject, as it is the slowest movement that our language admits of. The latter part of the poem is pathetic and interesting.
This poem of Mr. Johnson's is the best imitation of the original that has appeared in our language, being possessed of all the force and satirical resentment of Juvenal. Imitation gives us a much truer idea of the ancients than even translation could do.
This poem is one of those happinesses in which a poet excels himself, as there is nothing in all Shenstone which in any way approaches it in merit; and, though I dislike the imitations of
*Parnell's Poems, 1770,
xxiv.
†This is a strange complaint to come from Goldsmith, whose
own Hermit, as was pointed out to the present Editor
by the late Mr. Kegan Paul, is certainly open to this
impeachment.
our old English poets in general, yet, on this minute subject, the antiquity of the style produces a very ludicrous solemnity.
This poem, by Denham, though it may have been exceeded by later attempts in description, yet deserves the highest applause, as it far surpasses all that went before it: the concluding part, though a little too much crowded, is very masterly.
The harmony of numbers in this poem is very fine. It is rather drawn out to too tedious a length, although the passions vary with great judgement. It may be considered as superior to anything in the epistolary way; and the many translations which have been made of it into the modern languages, are in some measure a proof of this.
The opening of this poem is incomparably fine. The latter part is tedious and trifling.
Few poems have done more honour to English genius than this. There is in it a strain of political thinking that was, at that time, new in our poetry. Had the harmony of this been equal to that of Pope's versification, it would be incontestably the finest poem in our language; but there is a dryness in the numbers which greatly lessens the pleasure excited both by the poet's judgement and imagination.*
*See introductory note to The Traveller, p. 162.
This ode [by Mr. Dryden] has been more applauded, perhaps, than it has been felt, however, it is a very fine one, and gives its beauties rather at a third, or fourth, than at a first perusal.
This ode [by Mr. Pope] has by many been thought equal to the former. As it is a repetition of Dryden's manner, it is so far inferior to him. The whole hint of Orpheus, and many of the lines, have been taken from an obscure Ode upon Music, published in Tate's Miscellanies.*
These are Mr. Gay's principal performances. They were originally intended, I suppose, as a burlesque on those of [Ambrose] Philips; but, perhaps without designing it, he has hit the true spirit of pastoral poetry. In fact, he more resembles Theocritus than any other English pastoral writer whatsoever. There runs through the whole a strain of rustic pleasantry which should ever distinguish this species of composition; but how far the antiquated expressions used here may contribute to the humour, I will not determine; for my own part, I could wish the simplicity were preserved, without recurring to such obsolete antiquity for the manner of expressing it.
The severity of this satire, and the excellence of its versification give it a distinguished rank in this species of composition. At present, an ordinary reader would scarce suppose that Shadwell, who is here meant by Mac Flecknoe, was worth being chastised, and that Dryden's descending to such game was like an eagle's stooping to catch flies.† The truth however is, Shadwell, at one time, held divided reputation with this great poet. Every
*A Pindaric Essay upon
Musick—says Gibbs—by 'Mr. Wilson',' which
appears at p. 401 of Tate's Collection of 1685.
†'Aquila non capit muscas' (Apostolius).
age produces its fashionable dunces, who, by following the transient topic, or humour, of the day, supply talkative ignorance with materials for conversation.
Here follows one of the best versified poems in our language, and the most masterly production of its author. The severity with which Walpole is here treated, was in consequence of that minister having refused to provide for Swift in England, when applied to for that purpose in the year 1725 (if I remember right). The severity of a poet, however, gave Walpole very little uneasiness. A man whose schemes, like this minister's, seldom extended beyond the exigency of the year, but little regarded the contempt of posterity.
This poem, as Mr. Pope tells us himself, cost much attention and labour; and, from the easiness that appears in it, one would be apt to think as much.
This sixth canto of the Dispensary, by Dr. Garth, has more merit than the whole preceding part of the poem, and, as I am told, in the first edition of this work it is more correct than as here exhibited; but that edition I have not been able to find. The praises bestowed on this poem are more than have been given to any other; but our approbation, at present, is cooler, for it owed part of its fame to party.*
The following eclogues,† written by Mr. Collins, are very pretty: the images, it must be owned, are not very local; for the pastoral subject could not well admit of it. The description
*Cf. Dedication of The
Traveller, ll. 34-45.
†i.e.—Selim, Hassan, Agib and Secander, and Abra.
Goldsmith admired Collins, whom he calls in the
Enquiry, 1759, p. 143, 'the neglected author of the Persian
eclogues, which, however inaccurate, excel any in our language.' He
borrowed freely from him in the Threnodia Augustalis,
q.v.
of Asiatic magnificence, and manners, is a subject as yet unattempted amongst us, and I believe, capable of furnishing a great variety of poetical imagery.
This is reckoned the best parody of Milton in our language: it has been an hundred times imitated, without success. The truth is, the first thing in this way must preclude all future attempts; for nothing is so easy as to burlesque any man's manner, when we are once showed the way.
Mr. Hawkins Browne, the author of these, as I am told, had no good original manner of his own, yet we see how well he succeeded when he turns an imitator; for the following are rather imitations than ridiculous parodies.
The great fault of this piece, written by Dr. Parnell, is that it is in eight- syllable lines, very improper for the solemnity of the subject; otherwise, the poem is natural, and the reflections just.
Never was the old manner of speaking more happily applied, or a tale better told, than this.
Mr. Thomson, though, in general, a verbose and affected poet, has told this story with unusual simplicity: it is rather given here for being much esteemed by the public, than by the editor.
Almost all things written from the heart, as this certainly was, have some merit. The poet here describes sorrows and misfortunes which were by no means imaginary; and, thus, there
runs a truth of thinking through this poem, without which it would be of little value, as Savage is, in other respects, but an indifferent poet.
Mr. Mo[o]re was a poet that never had justice done him while living; there are few of the moderns have a more correct taste, or a more pleasing manner of expressing their thoughts. It was upon these fables [Nos. v, vi, and xvi of the Fables for the Ladies] he chiefly founded his reputation; yet they are, by no means, his best production.
This little poem, by Mr. Nugent [afterwards Lord Clare] is very pleasing. The easiness of the poetry, and the justice of the thoughts, constitute its principal beauty.
This bagatelle, for which, by the by, Mr. Prior has got his greatest reputation, was a tale told in all the old Italian collections of jests, and borrowed from thence by Fontaine. It had been translated once or twice before into English, yet was never regarded till it fell into the hands of Mr. Prior. A strong instance how everything is improved in the hands of a man of genius.
This poem [by Swift] is very fine; and though in the same strain with the preceding [Prior's Ladle] is yet superior.
This elegy (by Mr. Ticknell) is one of the finest in our language; there is so little new that can be said upon the death of a friend, after the complaints of Ovid and the Latin Italians, in this way, that one is surprised to see so much novelty in this to strike us, and so much interest to affect.
Through all Tickell's works there is a strain of ballad-thinking, if I may so express it; and, in this professed ballad, he seems to have surpassed himself. It is, perhaps, the best in our language in this way.
This ode, by Dr. Smollett, does rather more honour to the author's feelings than his taste. The mechanical part, with regard to numbers and language, is not so perfect as so short a work as this requires; but the pathetic it contains, particularly in the last stanza but one, is exquisitely fine.
Our poetry was not quite harmonized in Waller's time; so that this, which would be now looked upon as a slovenly sort of versification, was, with respect to the times in which it was written, almost a prodigy of harmony. A modern reader will chiefly be struck with the strength of thinking, and the turn of the compliments bestowed upon the usurper. Everybody has heard the answer our poet made Charles II; who asked him how his poem upon Cromwell came to be finer than his panegyric upon himself. 'Your majesty,' replies Waller, 'knows, that poets always succeed best in fiction.'
The French claim this [by Mr. Waller] as belonging to them. To whomsoever it belongs the thought is finely turned.
These seem to be the best of the collection; from whence only the two first are taken. They are spoken of differently, either with exaggerated applause or contempt, as the reader's disposition is either turned to mirth or melancholy.
Young's Satires were in higher reputation when published, than they stand in at present. He seems fonder of dazzling than pleasing; of raising our admiration for his wit, than our dislike of the follies he ridicules.
These ballads of Mr. Shenstone are chiefly commended for the natural simplicity of the thoughts and the harmony of the versification. However, they are not excellent in either.
This, by Dr. Byrom, is a better effort than the preceding [a ballad by Shenstone].
This ['Despairing beside a clear stream'] by Mr. Rowe, is better than anything of the kind in our language.
This work, by the Duke of Buckingham, is enrolled among our great English productions. The precepts are sensible, the poetry not indifferent, but it has been praised more than it deserves.
This is thought one of Dr. Swift's correctest pieces; its chief merit, indeed, is the elegant ease with which a story, but ill-conceived in itself, is told.
What Prior meant by this poem I can't understand; by the Greek motto to it one would think it was either to laugh at the subject or the reader. There are some parts of it very fine; and let them save the badness of the rest.