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« That the criminal should neither be wholly have miscarried for this last year. But, howguilty, nor wholly innocent, but so participating ever, he has missed of his design in the dedica. of both as to move both pity and terror, is cer- tion, though he had prepared the book for it; tainly a good rule, but not perpetually to be ob- for, in every figure of Æneas he has caused served; for that were to make all tragedies too him to be drawn like King William, with a much alike; which objection he foresaw, but hooked nose, After my return to town, I inhas not fully answered.

tend to alter a play of Sir Robert Howard's, " To conclude, therefore ; if the plays of the written long since, and lately put into my hands; ancients are more correctly plotted, ours are it is called “The Conquest of China by the more beautifully written. And, if we can raise Tartars.” It will cost me six weeks' study, passions as high on worse foundations, it shows with the probable benefit of a hundred pounds. our genius in tragedy is greater; for in all other In the mean time I am writing a song for St. parts of it the English have manifestly excelled Cecilia's Feast, who, you know, is the patroness them.”

of music. This is troublesome, and no way beneficial; but I could not deny the stewards

of the feast, who came in a body to me to deThe original of the following letter is pre- sire, that kindness, one of them being Mr. served in the Library at Lambeth, and was Bridgeman, whose parents are your mother's kindly imparted to the public by the reverend friends. I hope to send you thirty guineas beDr. Vyse.

tween Michaelmas and Christmas, of which I

will give you an account when I come to town. Copy of an original letter from John Dryden, I remember the counsel you give me in your Esq., to his sons in Italy, from a MS. in letter; but dissembling, though lawful in some the Lambeth Library, marked No. 933, cases, is not my talent; yet, for your sake, I

will struggle with the plain openness of my na 1 supirscribed).

ture, and keep in my just resentments against “Al illustrissimo Sigre.

that degenerate order. In the mean time, I “Carlo Dryden Camariere

flatter pot myself with any manner of hopes, “d'Honore A. S. S.

but do my duty, and suffer for God's sake; he“In Roma. ing assured, before hand, never to be rewarded,

though the times should alter. Towards the "Franca per Manloua.

latter end of this month, September, Charles “Sept. the 3d, our style. will begin to recover his perfect health, accord, "Dear Sons,

ing to his nativity, which, casting it myself, i “Being now at Sir William Bowyer's in the am sure is true, and all things hitherto have country, I cannot write at large, because I find happened accordingly to the very time that I myselt somewhat indisposed with a cold, and predicted them: I hope at the same time to ream thick of hearing, rather worse than I was in cover more health, according to my age. Re town. I am glad to find, by your letter of July member me to poor Harry, whose prayers 1 26th, your style, that you are both in health, carnestly desire. My Virgil succeeds in the but wonder you should think me so negligent world beyond its desert or my expectation. You as to forget to give you an account of the ship know the profits might have been more ; but in which your parcel is to come. I have written neither my conscience nor my honour would to you two or three letters concerning it, which suffer me to take them; but I can never repent I have sent by safe hands, as I told you, and of my constancy, since I am thoroughly per: doubt not but you have them before this can ar- suaded of the justice of the cause for which 1 rive to you. Being out of town, I have forgotten suffer. It has pleased God to raise up many the ship's name, which your mother will inquire, friends to me among my enemies, though they and put it into her letter, which is joined with who ought to have been my friends are negli. mine. But the master's name I remember: he gent of me. I am called to dinner, and cannot is called Mi. Ralph Thorp; the ship is bound go on with this letter, which I desire you to ex to Leghorn, consigned to Mr. Peter and Mr. cuse; and am Thomas Ball, merchants. I am of your opinion,

“Your most affectionate father, that by Tonson's means almost all our 'letters

“ John DATDEX."


EDMUND Smith is one of those lucky writers lectual excellence seldom employed to any virwho have, without much labour, attained high tuous purpose. His character, as given by Mr. rcputation, and who are mentioned with reve- Oldisworth with all the partiality of friendship, rence rather for the possession than the exertion which is said by Dr. Burton to show " what fine of uncommon abilities.

things one man of parts can say of another," Of his life little is known; and that little and which, however, comprises great part of claims no praise but what can be given to intel. I wbat can be known of Mr. Smith, it is better to transcribe at once than to take hy pieces. I lege, and that college the ornament of the most shall suhjoin such little memorials as accident learned and polite University; and it was hus has enabled me to collect.

happiness to have several contemporaries and

fellow-students who exercised and excited this Mr, Edmund Smith was the only son of an virtue in themselves, and others, thereby becomeminent merchant, one Mr. Neale, by a daugh- ing so deservedly in favour with this age, and so ter of the famous Baron Lechmere. Some mis- good a proof of iis nice discernment. His judg. fortunes of his father, which were soon followed by his death, were the occasion of the son's exquisite fineness and distinguishing sagacity,

ment, naturally good, soon ripened into an baing left very young in the hands of a near which, as it was active and busy, so it was relation (one who married Mr. Neale's sister) vigorous and manly, keeping even paces with a whose name was Smith,

rich and strong imagination, always upon the This gentleman and his lady treated him as wing, and never tired with aspiring. Hence it their own child, and put him

to Westminster was, 'that, though he writ as young as Cowley, School, under the care of Dr. Busby; whence, he had no puerilities; and his earliest producafter the loss of his faithful and generous guar. tions were so far from having any thing in them dian (whose name he assumed and retained) he mean and trifling, that, like the junior comprisiwas removed to Christchurch, in Oxford, and tions of Mr. Stepney, they may make gray authere by his aunt handsomely maintained till thors blush. There are many of his first essays her death ; after which he continued a member in oratory, in epigram, elegy, and epic, siill of that learned and ingenious society till within handed about the University in manuscripi, five years of his own ; though, some time before which show a masterly hand; and though his leaving Christchurch, he was sent for by maimed and injured by frequent transcribing, his mother to Worcester, and owned and ac- make their way into our most celebrated miscel knowledged as her legitimate son ; which had lanies, where they shine with uncommon lustre. not been inentioned, but to wipe off the asper. Besides those verses in the Oxford books which sions that were ignorantly cast by some on his he could not help setting his name to, several of birth. It is to be remembered, for our Author's his compositions came abroad under other names, honour, that, when at Westminster election he which his own singular modesty and fuithful stood a candidate for one of the universities, he silence strove in vain to conceal. 'The Encænia so signally distinguished himself by his con, and public Collections of the University upon spicuous performances, that there arose no small State Subjects were never in such esteem, either contention between the representative electors for elegy and congratulation, as when he conof Trinity College, in Cambridge, and Christ- tributed most largely to them; and it was natural church, in Oxon, which of those two royal so- | for those who knew his peculiar way of writing cieties should adopt him as their own. But the to turn to his share in the work, as by far the electors of Trinity College having the preference most relishing part of the entertainment. As his of choice that year, they resolutely elected parts were

extraordinary, so he well knew how him ; who yet, being invited at the same time to to improve them; and not only to polish the Christchurch, chose to accept of a studentship diamond, but enchase it in the most solid and there. Mr. Smith's perfections, as well natural durable metal. Though he was an academic the as acquired, seem to have been formed upon greatest part of his life, yet he contracted no Horace's plan, who says, in his “ Art of Po- soumness of temper, no spice of pedantry, no itch etry,”

of disputation, or obstinate contention for the old -Ego nec studium sine divite vena,

or new philosophy, no assuming way of dictauing Nec rude quid profit video ingenium; alterius sic to others, which are faults (though excusable) Allera poscit opem res, el conjurat amice.

which some are insensibly led into who are conHe was endowed by nature with all those ex- strained to dwell long within the walls of a cellent and necessary qualifications which are private college. His conversation was pleasant previous to the accomplishment of a great man. and instructive; and what Horace said of Plotius, His memory was large and tenacious, yet by a Varius, and Virgil, might justly be applied to curious félicity chiefly susceptible of the finest him: impressions it received from the best authors he

Ni ego contulerim jucundo sanus Amico. read, which it always preserved in their primitive

Sat. v. 1.1 strength and amiable order.

He had a quickness of apprehension and vi- As correct a writer as he was in his most elabo vacity of understanding which easily took in and rate pieces, he read the works of others with surmiunted the most subtle and knotty parts candour, and reserved his greatest severity for his of mithematics and metaphysics. His wit was own compositions ; being readier to cherish and prompt and Anwing, yet solid and piercing; his advance than damp or depress a rising genius, iasto delicae, his head clear, and his way of ex. and as patient of being excelled himself if any pressing his thoughts perspicuous and engaging. could excel him) as industrious to excel others. I shall say nothing of his person, which was yet It were to be wished he had confined himself so well turned, that no neglect of himself in his to a particular profession who was capable of dress could render it disag ezable ; insomuch that surpassing in any; but, in this, his want of apthe fair sex, who observed and esteemed him, at plication was in a great measure owing to his one commended and reproved him by the name want of due encouragement. of the handsome sloven. “An eager but generous He passed through the exercises of the Col and noble emulation grew up with him; which lege and University with unusual applause; and (18 it were a rational sort of instinct) pushed though he often suffered his friends to call him him pon striving to excel in every art and off from his retirements, and to lengthen out *cience that could make him a credit to his Col- I those jovial avocations, yet his return to his studies was so much the more passionate, and his / or detraction. If he did nut always commend intention upon those refined pleasures of reading the compositions of others, it was not ill-nature, and thinking so vehement, (to which his facetious (which was not in his temper,) but strict justice and unbended intervals bore no proportion) that would not let him call a few flowers set in ranks, the habit grew upon him, and the series of medi- a glib measure, and so many couplets, by the tation and reflection being kept up whole weeks name of Poetry; he was of Ben Jonson's opinion, together, he could better sort his ideas, and take who could not admire in the sundry parts of a science at one view,

- Verses as smooth and soft as cream, without interruption or confusion. Some indeed In which there was neither depth nor stream. of his acquaintance, who were pleased to distin

And therefore, though his want of complaisance guish between the wit and the scholar, extolled him altogether on the account of these'titles; for some men's overbearing vanity made him bat others, who knew him better, could not for: enemies, yet the better part of mankind were bear doing him justice as a prodigy in both obliged by the freedom of his reflections.

His Bodleian Speech, though taken from a kinds. He had signalized himself, in the schools, as a philosopher and polemic of extensive know! remote and imperfect copy, hath shown the ledge and deep penetration ; and went through eloquence, mixed with the conciseness and force

world how great a master he was of the Ciceronian all the courses with a wise regard to the dignity of Demosthenes, the elegant and moving turns and importance of each science. I remember of Pliny, and the acute and wise refleciions of him in the Divinity-school responding and dis

Tacitus. puting with a perspicuous energy, a ready exactness, and commanding force of argument, stood Horace better, especially as to his happy

Since Temple and Roscommon, no man underwhen Dr. Jane worthily presided in the chair ; diction, rolling numbers, beautiful imagery, and whose condescending and disinterested commen- alternate mixture of the soft and the sublime. dation of him gave him such a reputation as This endeared Dr. Hannes's odes to him, the silenced the envious malice of his enemies, who finest genius for Latin lyric since the Augustan durst not contradict the approbation of so profound a master in thcology; None of those (late Lord Bolingbroke) after the manner of

His friend Mr. Philips's ode to Mr. St. John self-sufficient creatures who have either trifled Horace's Lusory or Amatorian Odes, is certainly with philosophy, by attempting to ridicule it, or have encumber it with novel terms and bur- of the sublimer kind, though, like Waller's write

a masterpiece; but Mr. Smith's “Pocockius" is densome explanations, understood its real weightings upon Oliver Cromwell

, it wants not the most and purity half so well as Mr. Smith. He was delicate and surprising turns peculiar to the Loo discerning to allow of the character of unprofitable, rugged, and abstruse, which some person praised. I do not remember to have seen

any thing like it in Dr. Bathurst, * who had made superficial sciolists (so very smooth and polite as to admit of no impression) either out of an un

some attempts this way with applause. He was thinking indolence or an ill-grounded prejudice historian, that in familiar discourse he would talk

an excelleni judge of humanity; and so good an had affixed to this sort of studies. He knew the thomy terms of philosophy served well to fence lives, actions, and characters of celebrated men,

over the most memorable facts in antiquity, the in the true doctrines of religion; and looked with amazing facility and accuracy. As he had upon school-divinity as upon a rough but well, thoroughly read and digested Thuanus's works, wrought armour, which might at once adorn and so he was able to copy after him; and his talent defend the Christian hero, and equip him for in this kind was so well known and allowed, the combat.

Mr. Smith had a long and perfect intimacy that he had been singled out by some great men with all the Greek and Latin classics ; with to write a history, which it was their interest to which he had carefully compared whatever was I shall not mention for what reasons this design

have done with the utmost art and dexterity. worth perusing in the French, Spanish, and Italian, (to which languages he was no stranger,) Mr. Smith's honour. The truth is, and I speak

was dropped, though they are very much to and in all the celebrated writers of his own it before living witnesses, whilst an agreeable country. But then, according to the curious observation of the late Earl of Shaftesbury, he kept literature nobody shone to greater advantage ; le

company could fix hiin upon a subject of useful the poet in awe by regular criticism; and, as it seemed to be that Memmius whom Lucretius were, married the two arts for their mutual sup. speaks of: port and improvement. There was not a tract of credit upon that subject which he had not dili. -Quem tu, Dea, tempore in omni gently examined, from Aristotle down to Hedelin

Omnibus ornatum voluisti exce.lere rebus. and Bossu ; so that, having each rule constantly His works are not many, and those scattered before him, he could carry the art through every up and down in miscellanies and collections, bepem, and at once point out the graces and deforsing wrested from him by his friends with great inities. By this means he seemed to read with a difficulty and reluctance. All of them together design to correct as well as imitate.

make but a small part of that much greater body Beng thus prepared, he could not but taste which lies dispeised in the possession of numerevery Litile delicacy that was set before him ; ous acquaintance; and cannot perhaps be made dough it was impossible for him at the same entire, without great injustice to him, because time to be fed and nourished with any thing but few of them had his last hand, and the tranwhat was substantial and lasting. He considered scriber was often obliged to take the liberties of the ancients and moderns not as parties or rivals a friend. His condolence for the death of Mr. Go fune, but as architects upon one and the same plan, the Art of Poetry; according to which he

• Dr. Ralph Bathurst, whose Life and Literary Remains judged, approved, and blamed without flattery were published in 1761, by Mr. Thomas Warion.-C.

Philips is full of the noblest beauties, and hath | disposal of his friends, whose most rigorons cendone justice to the ashes of that second Milton, sures he even courted and solicited, submitting whose writings will last as long as the English to their animadversions and the freedom they language, generosity, and valour. For him Mr. took with them with an unreserved and prudent Smith had contracted a perfect friendship; a resignation. passion he was most susceptible of, and whose I have seen sketches and rough draughts of laws he looked upon as sacred and inviolable. some poems to be designed set out analytically;

Every subject that passed under his pen had wherein the fable, structure, and connexion, the all the life, proportion, and embellishments, be- images, incidents, moral, episodes, and a great istowed on it, which an exquisite skill, a warm variety of ornaments, were so finely laid out, so imagination, and a cool judgment, possibly could well fitted to the rules of art, and squared so exbestow on it. The epic, lyric, elegiac, every sort actly to the precedents of the ancients, that I of poetry he touched upon, (and he touched upon have often looked on these poetical elements a great variety,) was raised to its proper height, with the same concern with which curious men and the differences between each of them ob- are affected at the sight of the most entertaining served with a judicious accuracy. We saw the remains and ruins of an antique figure or buildoll rules and new beauties placed in admirable ing. Those fragments of the learned, which Order by each other; and there was a predomi- some men have been so proud of their pains in mint fancy and spirit of his own infused, supe-collecting, are useless rarities, without form and rior to what some draw off from the ancients, or without life, when compared with these emfron poesies here and there culled out of the bryos, which wanted noi spirit enough to premoderns, by a painful industry and servile imita- serve them; so that I cannot help thinking ihat tion. His contrivances were adroit and magni- if some of them were to come abroad they would ficent; his images lively and adequate; his sen- be as highly valued by the poets as the sketches tinents charming and majestic; his expressions of Julio and Titian aře by the painters; though natural and bold; his numbers various and there is nothing in them but a few outlines, as to sounding; and that enamelled mixture of classic the design and proportion. cal wit, which without redundance and affecta- It must be confessed, that Mr. Smith had some tion sparkled through his writings, and were no defects in his conduct, which those are most api less pertinent and agreeable.

to remember who could imitate him in nothing His “ Phedra" is a consumuate tragedy, and else. His freedom with himself drew severer the success of it was as great as the most san- acknowledgments from him than all the malice guine expectations of his friends could promise he ever provoked was capable of advancing, and or foresee. The number of nights, and the com- he did not scruple to give even his misfortunes mon method of filling the liouse, are not always the hard name of faults; but, if the world had the surest marks of judging what encourage- half his good-nature, all the shady parts would ment a play meets with; but the generosity of be entirely struck out of his character. all the persons of a refined taste about town was A man who, under poverty, calamities, and remarkable on this occasion: and it must not be disappointments, could make so many friends, forgotten how zealously Mr. Addison espoused and those so truly valuable, must have just and his interest, with all the clegant judgment and noble ideas of the passion of friendship, in the diffusive good nature for which that accomplish- success of which consisted the greatest, if not ed gentleman and author is so justly valued by the only happiness of his life. He knew very mankind. But as to “ Phædra,” she has cer- well what was due to his birth, though fortune tainly made a finer figure under Mr. Smith's threw him short of it in every other circumstance conduct upon the Englich stage, than either in of life. He avoided making any, though perhaps Rome or Athens; and if she excels the Greek reasonable complaints of her dispensations, unand Latin “Phædra," I need not say she sur- | der which he had honour enough to be easy, passes the French ons, though embellished with without touching the favours she flung in his whatever regular beauties and moving softness way when offered to him at a price of a more du. Racine himself could give her.

rable reputation. He took care to have no deal No man har a juster notion of the difficulty ings with mankind in which he could not be just: of composing than Mr. Smith; and sometimes and he desired to be at no other expense in his he would create greater difficulties than he had pretensions than that of intrinsic merit, which was reason to apprehend. Writing with ease what the only burden and reproach he ever brought (as Mr. Wycherley speaks) may be easily writ- upon his friends. He could say, as Horace did tən, moved his indignation. When he was writ- of himself, what I never yet saw translated: ing upon a subject, he would seriously consider what Demosthenes, Homer, Virgil, or Horace,

Meo sum pauper in ære. if alive, would say upon that occasion, which At his coming to town, no man was more sur. whetted him to exceed himself as well as others. rounded by all those who really had or pretended Nevertheless, he could not or would not finish to wit, or more courted by the great men who several subjects he undertook : which may be had then a power and opportunity of encouraging imputed either to the briskness of his fancy, still arts and sciences, and gave proofs of their fondhuiting after a new matter, or to an occasional ness for the name of patron in many instances, intolence, which spleen and lassitude brought which will ever be remembered to their glory. upon him, which, of all his foibles, the world was Mr. Smith's character grew upon his friends by Teastinclined to forgive. That this was not owing intimacy, and outwent the strongest prepossesto conceit or vanity, or a fulness of himself, (a sions which had been conceived in his favour. trailty which has been imputed to no less men Whatever quarrel a few sour creatures, whose Ola's Shakspir and Jonson,) is clear from obscurity is their happiness, may possibly have icace; because he left his works to the entire to the age, yet amidst e. studeá neglect and total disuse of all those ceremonial attendances, | Such is the declamation of Oldisworth, writfashionable equipments, and external recon- ten while his admiration was yet fiesh, and his mnendation, which are thought necessary intro- kindness warm; and therefore, such as, with. ductions into the grande monde, this gentleman out any criminal purpose of deceiving, shows a was so happy as still to please; and whilst the strong desire to make the most of all favourable rich, the gay, the noble, and honourable, saw truth. I cannot much commend the performhow much he excelled in wit and learning, they ance. The praise is often indistinct, and the easily forgave him all other differences. Hence sentences are loaded with words of more pomp it was that both his acquaintance and retire than use. There is little, however, that can be ments were his own free choice. What Mr. contradicted, even when a plainer tale comes lo Prior observes upon a very great character was be told. true of him, thai most of his faults brought their ercuse with them.

EDMUND Neale, known by the name of Those who blamed him most understood him Smith, was born at Handley, the seat of the least, it being the custom of the vulgar to charge Lechmeres, in Worcestershire. The year of his an excess upon the most complaisant, and to birth is uncertain.* form a character by the moral of a few, who He was educated at Westminster. It is known have sometimes spoiled an hour or two, in good to have been the practice of Dr. Busby to de. company. Where only fortune is wanting to tain those uth long at school of whom he had make a great name, that single exception can formed the highest expectations. Smith took never pass upon the best judges and most equi- his master's degree on the 8th of July, 1696; table observers of mankind; and when the time he therefore was probably admitted into the Unicomes for the world to spare their pity, we may versity in 1689, when we may suppose him justly enlarge our demands upon them for their twenty years old. admiration.

His reputation for literature in his college was Some few years before his death, he had en- such as has been told; but the indecency and gaged himself in several considerable under licentiousness of his behaviour drew upon him, takings ; in all which he had prepared the world Dec. 24, 1694, while he was yet only bachelor, to expect mighty things from him. I have seen a public admonition, entered upon record, in about ten sheets of his English Pindar, which order to his expulsion. Of this reproof the effect exceeded any thing of that kind I could ever is not known. He was probably less notorious. hope for in our language. He had drawn out At Oxford, as we all know, much will be fora plan of a tragedy of the Lady Jane Grey, and given to literary merit; and of that he had exhad gone through several scenes of it. But he hibited sufficient evidence by his excellent ode could not well have bequeathed that work to on the death of the great orientalist, Dr. Pobetter hands than where, I hear, it is at present cock, who died in 1691, and whose praise must lodged; and the bare mention of two such have been written by Smith when he had been names may justify the largest expectations, and but two years in the University. is sufficient to make the town an agreeable This ode, which closed the second volume of invitation.

the “Musæ Anglicanæ," though perhaps some His greatest and noblest undertaking was objections may be made to its Latinity, is by far Longinus. He had finished an entire transla- the best lyric composition in that collection ; tion of the “Sublime,” which he sent to the nor do I know where to find it equalled among Reverend Mr. Richard' Parker, a friend of his, the modern writers. It expresses, with great late of Merton College, an exact critic in the felicity, images not classical in classical diction; Greek tongue, from whom it came to my hands. its digressions and returns have been deservedly The French version of Monsieur Boileau, though recommended by Trapp as models for imitatruly valaable, was far short of it. He pro- tion. posed a large addition to this work, of notes and He had several imitations from Cowley: observations of his own, with an entire system

Testitur hinc tot sermo coloribus of the Art of Poetry, in three books, under the

Quotlu, Pococki, dissimilis lui titles of Thought, Diction, and Figure. I saw

Orator effers, quot vicissim

Te memores celebrare gaudent. the last of these perfect, and in a fair copy, in which he showed prodigious judgment and

I will not commend the figure which makes reading; and particularly had reformed the the orator pronounce the colours, or give to co Art of Rhetoric, by reducing that vast and con- lours memory and delight. I quote it, however, fused heap of terms, with which a long succes. as an imitation of these lines : sion of pedants had encumbered the world, to a So many languages he had in store, very narrow compass, comprehending all that That only Fame shall speak of him in more. was useful and ornamental in poetry. Under The simile, by which an old man, retaining each head and chapter ne intended to make the fire of his youth, is compared to Étna flamremarks upon all the ancients and moderns, ing through the snow, which Smith has used with the Greek, Latin, English, French, Spanish, and great pomp, is stolen from Cowley, however Italian poets, and to note their several beauties little worth the labour of conveyance. and defects.

He proceeded to take his degree of master of What remains of his works is left, as I am arts, July 8, 1696. Of the exercises which he informed, in the hands of men of worth and performed on that occasion, I have not heard any judgment, who loved him. It cannot be sup- thing memorable. posed they would suppress any thing that was his, but out of respect to his memory, and for want of proper hands to finish what so great a years old when he died. He was consequently born on

* By his epitaph be appears to have been for:y-iwo genius had begun

the year 1668.-R.

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