Chapter XXVIII: Appendix: E

GOLDSMITH ON POETRY UNDER ANNE AND GEORGE THE FIRST.

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.’