The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland/Volume 4/Mr. Edmund Smith
Mr. Edmund Smith.
This diſtinguiſhed poet was ſon of an eminent merchant, one Mr. Neal, by a daughter of baron Lechemere[1]. Some misfortunes of his father, which were ſoon followed by his death, occaſioned our author’s being left very young in the care of a near relation (one who married Mr. Neal’s mother, whoſe name was Smith).
This gentleman treated him with as much tenderneſs as if he had been his own child, and placed him at Weſtminſter-ſchool, under the care of Dr. Buſby. After the death of his generous guardian (whoſe name in gratitude he thought proper to aſſume) he was removed to Chriſt’s Church in Oxford, and was there by his aunt handſomely ſupported till her death; after which he continued a member of that learned ſociety, till within five years of his own. Some time before his leaving Chriſt-Church, he was ſent for by his mother to Worceſter, and acknowledged by her as a legitimate ſon. We chuſe to mention this circumſtance, in order to wipe off the aſperſion which folly and ignorance call upon his birth[2].
In honour to Mr. Smith it ſhould be remembered, that when he ſtood a candidate for one of the univerſities, at the Weſtminſter election, he ſo peculiarly diſtinguiſhed himſelf by his conſpicuous performances, that there aroſe no ſmall contention between the repreſentative elcecors of Trinity-College in Cambridge, and Chriſt-Church College in Oxon, which of thoſe two illuſtrious ſocieties ſhould adopt him as their own. But the electors of Trinity-College having the preference of choice that year, they reſolutely elected him; but being invited at the ſame time to Chriſt-Church, Mr. Smith choſe to accept of a ſtudentſhip there.
He paſſed through the exerciſes of the college, and the univerſity, with unuſual applauſe; and tho’ he often ſuffered his friends to call him off from his retirement; yet his return to his ſtudies was ſo much the more paſſionate, and his love of reading and thinking being ſo vehement, the habit grew upon him, and the ſeries of meditation and reflexion being kept up whole weeks together, he could better arrange his ideas, and take in ſundry parts of a ſcience at one view, without interruption or confuſion. Some of his acquaintance, who were pleaſed to diſtinguiſh between the wit and the ſcholar, extoll’d him altogether on account of the firſt of theſe excellencies; but others, who were more candid, admired him as a prodigy in both. He had acquired reputation in the ſchools, both as a philoſopher and polemic of extenſive knowledge, and deep penetration, and went through all the courſes with a proper regard to the dignity, and importance of each ſcience.
Mr. Smith had a long and perfect intimacy with all the Greek and Latin Claſſics; with whom he had induſtriouſly compared whatever was worth peruſing in the French, Spaniſh, and Italian, and all the celebrated writers in his own country. He conſidered the antients and moderns, not as parties, or rivals for fame, but as architects upon one and the ſame plan, the Art of Poetry. If he did not always commend the compoſitions of others, it proceeded not from ill-nature (for that was foreign to his temper) but a ſtrict regard to juſtice would not ſuffer him to call a few flowers elegantly adorned, without much art, and leſs genius, by ſo diſtinguiſhed a name as poetry. He was of Ben Johnſon’s opinion, who could not admire,
Verſes, as ſmooth and ſoft as cream,
In which their was neither depth nor ſtream.
Mr. Smith's Bodleian Oration, printed with his other works, though taken from a remote and imperfect copy, has ſhewn the world, how great a maſter he was of Ciceronian Eloquence. Since Temple and Roſcommon (ſays Mr. Oldiſworth) ‘No man underſtood Horace better, eſpecially as to his happy diction, rolling numbers, beautiful imagery, and alternate mixture of the ſoft and ſublime. His friend Mr. Philips’s Ode to Mr. St. John, after the manner of Horace’s Luſory, or Amatorian Odes, is certainly a maſter-piece: But Mr. Smith’s Pocockius is of the ſublimer kind; though like Waller’s writings upon Cromwell, it wants not the moſt delicate and ſurprizing turns, peculiar to the perſon praiſed.’
He was an excellent judge of humanity, and ſo good a hiſtorian, that in familiar converſation, he would talk over the moſt memorable facts in antiquity; the lives, actions, and characters of celebrated men, with amazing facility and accuracy. As he had carefully read and diſtinguiſhed Thuanus’s works, ſo he was able to copy after him: And his talent in this kind was ſo generally confeſs’d, that he was made choice of by ſome great men, to write a hiſtory, which it was their intereſt to have executed with the utmoſt art, and dexterity; but this deſign was dropped, as Mr. Smith would not ſacrifice truth to the caprice, and intereſted views of a party.
Our author’s Poem, condoling the death of Mr. Philips, is full of the nobleſt beauties, and pays a juſt tribute to the venerable aſhes of that great man. Mr. Smith had contracted for Mr. Philips the moſt perfect friendſhip, a paſſion of which he was very ſuſceptible, and whoſe laws he conſidered as ſacred and inviolable.
In the year 1707 Mr. Smith’s Tragedy called Phædra and Hippolitus was acted at the Theatre-Royal. This play was introduced upon the ſtage, at a time when the Italian Opera ſo much engroſſed the attention of the polite world, that ſenſe was ſacrificed to ſound. It was dreſs’d and decorated, at an extraordinary expence:and inimitably perform’d, in all its parts, by Betterton, Booth, Barry, and Oldfield. Yet it brought but few, and ſlender audiences.To ſay truth, ’twas a fine Poem; but not an extraordinary Play. Notwithſtanding the intrinſic merit of this piece, and the countenance it met with from the moſt ingenious men of the age, yet it languiſhed on the ſtage, and was ſoon neglected. Mr. Addiſon wrote the Prologue, in which he rallies the vitiated taſte of the public, in preferring the unideal entertainment of an Opera, to the genuine ſenſe of a Britiſh Poet.
The PROLOGUE.
Long has a race of Heroes fill’d the ſtage,
That rant by note, and thro’ the gamut rage;
In ſongs, and airs, expreſs their martial fire,
Combat in trills, and in a feuge expire;
While lull’d by ſound, and undiſturb’d by wit,
Calm and ſerene, you indolently ſit;
And from the dull fatigue of thinking free,
Hear the facetious fiddle’s rapartee;
Our home-ſpun authors muſt forſake the field,
And Shakeſpear to the ſoft Scarlatti yield.
To your new taſte, the poet of this day,
Was by a friend advis’d to form his play;
Had Valentini muſically coy,
Shun’d Phædra’s arms, and ſcorn’d the proffer’d joy,
It had not mov’d your wonder to have ſeen,
An Eunuch fly from an enamour’d queen.
How would it pleaſe, ſhould ſhe in Engliſh ſpeak,
And could Hippolitus reply in Greek?
We have been induced to tranſcribe theſe lines of Mr. Addiſon, in order to have the pleaſure of producing ſo great an authority in favour of the Engliſh drama, when placed in contradiſtinction to an entertainment, exhibited by Eunuchs and Fidlers, in a language, of which the greateſt part of the audience are ignorant; and from the nature of which no moral inſtruction can be drawn.
The chief excellence of this play certainly conſiſts in the beauty and harmony of the verſification. The language is luxuriantly poetical. The paſſion of Phædra for her huſband’s ſon has been conſidered by ſome critics as too unnatural to be ſhwen on the ſtage; and they have obſerved that the poet would have written more ſucceſsfully if he had converted the ſon into a brother. Poetical juſtice is carefully diſtributed; Phædra and Lycon are juſtly made the ſufferers, while Hippolitus and Iſmena eſcape the vengeance of Theſeus. The play is not deſtitute of the pathetic, tho’ much more regard is paid to the purity and elegance of the language, than a poet more acquainted with the workings of the heart would have done. We ſhall give an example to illuſtrate this obſervation. When Theſeus reproaches Hippolitus for his love to Iſmena, and at the ſame time dooms him as the victim of his revenge and jealouſy, he uſes theſe words,
Canſt thou be only clear’d by diſobedience,
And juſtified by crimes?—What! love my foe!
Love one deſcended from a race of tyrants,
Whoſe blood yet reeks on my avenging ſword!
I’m curſt each moment I delay thy fate:
Haſte to the ſhades, and tell the happy Pallas,
Iſmena’s flames, and let him taſte ſuch joys
As thou giv’ſt me; go tell applauding Minos,
The pious love you bore his daughter Phædra;
Tell it the chatt’ring ghoſts, and hiſſing furies,
Tell it the grinning fiends, till Hell found nothing
To thy pleas’d ears, but Phædra and Iſmena.
Had all his hairs been lives,
My great revenge had ſtomach for them all.
When Phædra is made acquainted with the ruin of Hyppolitus, the poet makes her utter the following beautiful ſpeech, which, however, is liable to the ſame objection as the former, for it ſeems rather a ſtudied declamation, than an expreſſion of the moſt agonizing throes ſhe is then ſuppoſed to experience.
What’s life? Oh all ye Gods! can life attone
For all the monſtrous crimes by which ’tis bought?
Or can I live? when thou, O Soul of honour!
O early hero! by my crimes art ruin’d.
Perhaps even now, the great unhappy youth,
Falls by the ſordid hands of butchering villains;
Now, now he bleeds, he dies,—O perjur’d traitor!
See his rich blood in purple torrents flows,
And nature ſallies in unbidden groans;
Now mortal pangs diſtort his lovely form,
His roſy beauties fade, his ſtarry eyes
Now darkling ſwim, and fix their cloſing beams;
Now in ſhort gaſps his lab’ring ſpirit heaves,
And weakly flutters on his falt’ring tongue,
And ſtruggles into ſound. Hear, monſter hear,
With his laſt breath, he curſes purjured Phædra:
He ſummons Phædra to the bar of Minos;
Thou too ſhalt there appear; to torture thee
Whole Hell ſhall be employ’d, and ſuff’ring Phædra
Shall find ſome care to ſee thee ſtill more wretched.
No man had a juſter notion of the difficulty of compoſing, than Mr. Smith, and he ſometimes would create greater difficulties than he had reaſon to apprehend. Mr. Smith had, indeed, ſome defects in his conduct, which thoſe are more apt to remember, who could imitate him in nothing elſe. Amongſt the blemiſhes of an innocent kind, which attended Mr. Smith, was his extreme careleſſneſs in the particular of dreſs; this oddity procured him the name of Captain Ragg. His perſon was ſo well formed, and he poſſeſſed ſo much natural gracefulneſs, that notwithſtanding the diſadvantage of his appearance, he was called, by the Ladies, the Handſome Sloven.
It is to be wondered at (ſays Mr. Oldiſworth) that a man under poverty, calamities, and diſappointments, could make ſo many friends, and thoſe ſo truly valuable. He had, indeed, a noble idea of the paſſion of friendſhip, in the ſucceſs of which, conſiſted the greateſt, if not the only happineſs of his Life. He was ſerene and chearful under the diſpenſations of providence; he avoided having any dealings with mankind in which he could not be juſt, and therefore refuſed to embrace ſome opportunities of amending his fortune.
Upon Mr Smith’s coming to town, no man was more ſurrounded by all thoſe who really had, or pretended to wit, or more courted by the great men, who had then a power and opportunity of encouraging arts and ſciences. Mr. Smith’s character grew upon his friends by intimacy, and exceeded the ſtrongeſt prepoſſeſſions which had been conceived in his favour. A few years before his death, Mr. Smith engaged in ſome conſiderable Undertakings; in all which he raiſed expectations in the world, which he lived not to gratify. Mr. Oldiſworth obſerves, that he had ſeen about ten ſheets of Pindar tranſlated into Engliſh, which, he ſays, exceeded any thing of that kind, he could ever hope for in our language. He had drawn out a plan for a tragedy of Lady Jane Grey, and had written ſeveral ſcenes of it: a ſubject afterwards nobly executed by Mr. Rowe. His greateſt undertaking was Longinus, which he executed in a very maſterly manner. He propoſed a large addition to this work, of notes and obſervations of his own, with an intire ſyſtem of the art of poetry in three books, under the title of Thoughts, Action, and Figure; in this work he propoſed to reform the art of Rhetoric, by reducing that confuſed heap of Terms, with which a long ſucceſſion of Pedants had incumbered the world, to a very narrow compaſs; comprehending all that was uſeful and ornamental in poetry under each head, and chapter. He intended to make remarks upon all the ancients and moderns, the Greek, Latin, Engliſh, French, Spaniſh, and Italian poets, and to anamadvert upon their ſeveral beauties and defects.
Mr. Smith died in the year 1710, in the 42d of his age, at the ſeat of George Ducket eſq; called Hartham, in Wikſhire; and was buried in the pariſh church there. We ſhall give the character of this celebrated poet in the words of Mr. Oldiſworth:—“He had a quickneſs of apprehenſion and vivacity of underſtanding, which eaſily took in, and ſurmounted, the moſt knotty parts of methematics and metaphyſics. His wit was prompt and flowing, yet ſolid and piercing; his taſte delicate, his head clear, and his manner of expreſſing his thoughts perſpicuous, and engaging; an eager, but generous, emulation grew up in him, which puſh’d him upon ſtriving to excel in every art and ſcience, that could make him a credit to his college: and it was his happineſs to have ſeveral cotemporaries, and fellow ſtudents, who exerciſed and excited this virtue in themſelves and others: his judgment naturally good, ſoon ripened into an exquiſite fineneſs, and diſtinguiſhing ſagacity, which as it was active and buſy, ſo it was vigorous and manly, keeping even pace with a rich and ſtrong imagination, always on the wing, and never tired with aſpiring; there are many of his firſt eſſays in oratory, in epigram, elegy and epic, ſtill handed about the univerſity in manuſcript, which ſhew a maſterly hand, and though maimed and injured by frequent tranſcribing, make their way into our moſt celebrated miſcellanies, where they ſhine with uncommon luſtre. As his parts were extraordinary, ſo he well knew how to improve them; and not only to poliſh the diamond, but enchaſe it in the moſt ſolid and durable metal.
“Though he was an academic the greateſt part of his life, yet he contracted no ſourneſs of temper, no tincture of pedantry, no itch of diſputation, or obſtinate contention for the old, or new philoſophy, no aſſuming way of dictating to others, which are faults which ſome are inſenſibly led into, who are conſtrained to dwell within the walls of a private college.” Thus far Mr. Oldiſworth, who has drawn the character of his deceaſed friend, with a laudable fondneſs. Mr. Smith, no doubt, poſſeſſed the higheſt genius for poetry; but it is certain he had mixed but too little in life. His language, however luxuriouſly poetical, yet is far from being proper for the drama, and there is too much of the poet in every ſpeech he puts in the mouths of his characters, which produces an uniformity, that nothing could reach him to avoid, but a more general knowledge of real life and characters. It is acknowledged that Mr. Smith was much inclined to intemperance, though Mr. Oldiſworth has gloſſed it over with the hand of a friend; nor is it improbable, that this diſpoſition ſunk him in that vis inertiæ, which has been the bane of many of the brighteſt geniuſes of the world. Mr. Smith was, upon the whole, a good natured man, a great poet, a finiſhed ſcholar, and a diſcerning critic.