field. This might, perhaps, be in some measure better than I should have done; for I should have owing to the able management of Garrick, under bowed and stammered through the whole of it." whose special superintendence it was got up; but On another occasion, during an interesting ar at that time sentimental writing was the prevailing gument carried on by Johnson, Mayo, and Toptaste of the town, and Kelly's piece was the finest lady, at the table of Messrs. Dilly, the booksellers, specimen of the sentimental school that had ap-'Goldsmith sat in restless agitation, from a wish to peared. Although "False Delicacy," according get in and shine. Finding himself excluded, he to Dr. Johnson, was "totally devoid of character," had taken his hat to go away, but remained for no less than ten thousand copies were sold in the some time with it in his hand, like a gamester who, course of only one season; and the booksellers con- at the close of a long night, lingers for a little while, cerned in the copyright, as a mark of the sense to see if he can have a favourable opening to finish they entertained of the comedy, evinced by its ex- with success. Once when he was beginning to traordinary sale, presented Kelly with a piece of speak, he found himself overpowered by the loud plate of considerable value, and gave a sumptuous voice of Johnson, who was at the opposite end of entertainment to him and his friends. These cir- the table, and did not perceive Goldsmith's attempt. cumstances so wrought upon the irritable feelings Thus disappointed of his wish to obtain the attenof Goldsmith, in whose disposition, warm and tion of the company, Goldsmith in a passion threw generous as it was, envy had an unhappy predomi- down his hat, looking angrily at Johnson, and exnance, that he renounced the friendship of Kelly, claiming in a bitter tone "Take it." When Topand could with difficulty be brought to forgive him lady was going to speak, Johnson uttered some this temporary success. Our author, though in sound, which led Goldsmith to think that he was the chief features of his character the original of his beginning again, and taking the words from Topown "Good-natured Man," was yet strangely lady. Upon which he seized this opportunity of jealous of the success of others, and particularly venting his own spleen, under the pretext of supin whatever regarded literary fame. porting another person: "Sir," said he to Johnson, We find it difficult to reconcile the possession "the gentleman has heard you patiently for an of so odious a quality with affectionate habits and hour: pray allow us now to hear him." Johnson benevolent propensities like his. True it is, how-replied, "Sir, I was not interrupting the gentleever, that he was prone to indulge this unamiable man; I was only giving him a signal of my attenpassion to so ridiculous an excess, that the instances tion. Sir, you are impertinent." Goldsmith made of it are hardly credible. When accompanying no reply. Johnson, Boswell, and Mr. Langton, two beautiful young ladies, with their mother, on towards the evening, adjourned to the club, where a tour in France, he was amusingly angry that they found Burke, Garrick, and some other memmore attention was paid to them than to him. And bers, and amongst them their friend Goldsmith, once, at the exhibition of the Fantoccini in Lon- who sat silently brooding over Johnson's reprimand don, when those who sat next him observed with to him after dinner. Johnson perceived this, and what dexterity a puppet was made to toss a pike, said aside to some of them, "I'll make Goldsmith he could not bear that it should have such praise, forgive me;" and then called to him in a loud and exclaimed with some warmth, "Pshaw! I can voice, "Dr. Goldsmith,-something passed to-day do it better myself." In fact, on his way home where you and I dined; I ask your pardon." Goldwith Mr. Burke to supper, he broke his shin, by smith answered placidly, "It must be much from attempting to exhibit to the company how much you, sir, that I take ill." And so at once the difbetter he could jump over a stick than the puppets. ference was over; they were on as easy terms as His envy of Johnson was one day strongly ex-ever, and Goldsmith rattled away as usual.' hibited at the house of Sir Joshua Reynolds. The tincture of envy thus conspicuous in the disWhile the doctor was relating to the circle there position of our author, was accompanied by another assembled the particulars of his celebrated inter- characteristic feature, more innocent but withal ex view with the king, Goldsmith remained unmoved ceedingly ridiculous. He was vain of imaginary upon a sofa at some distance, affecting not to join qualifications, and had an incessant desire of being in the least in the eager curiosity of the company. conspicuous in company; and this was the occasion At length, however, the frankness and simplicity of his sometimes appearing to such disadvantage as of his natural character prevailed. He sprung one should hardly have supposed possible in a man from the sofa, advanced to Johnson, and in a kind of his genius. When his literary reputation had of flutter, from imagining himself in the situation risen deservedly high, and his society was much he had just been hearing described, exclaimed, courted, his jealousy of the great attention paid to "Well, you acquitted yourself in this conversation * *The Miss Hornecks, one of whom was afterwards married to Henry Bunbury, Esq. and the other to Colonel Gwyn. Johnson was more strikingly apparent. One evening, in a circle of wits, he found fault with Boswell for talking of Johnson as entitled to the honour of unquestionable superiority. Sir," "you are for making a monarchy of what should grace and simplicity, peculiar to the general style be a republic." of their author, and are well calculated to attract He was still more mortified, when, talking in a young readers by the graces of composition. But company with fluent vivacity, and, as he flattered the more advanced student of history must resort himself, to the admiration of all who were present, to other sources for information. a German who sat next him, and perceived Johnson In the History of England, in particular, there rolling himself, as if about to speak, suddenly stop-are several mis-statements; and one instano may ped him, saying, "Stay, stay; Toctor Shonson is be given from his account of a remarkable occurgoing to say something." This was very provok-rence in the affairs of his own country, to which ing to one so irritable as Goldsmith, who frequently it might have been expected he would have paid mentioned it with strong expressions of indigna tion. more than ordinary attention. This is to be found in his narrative of the famous siege of LondonThere is thus much to be said, however, for the derry, in 1689, sustained against the French army envy of Goldsmith. It was rarely excited but on oc- during a hundred and four days, after the city was casions of mere literary competition; and, perhaps, found to be without provisions for little more than appeared much more conspicuous in him than other a week, and had besides been abandoned by the men, because he had less art, and never attempted military commanders as utterly untenable. For to conceal it. Mr. Boswell used to defend him this memorable defence the country was indebted against Dr. Johnson for this fault, on the ground to the courage, conduct, and talents of the Rev. of his frank and open avowal of it on all occasions: George Walker, a clergyman who happened to but Johnson had the best of the argument. "He take refuge in the city after it was abandoned by talked of it to be sure often enough," said the latter, the military. Under the direction of Walker, as"but he had so much of it that he could not con- sisted by two officers accidentally in the place, the ceal it. Now, sir, what a man avows, he is not defence was conducted with so much skill, courage, ashamed to think; though many a man thinks what he is ashamed to avow. We are all envious naturally; but by checking envy, we get the better of it. So we are all thieves naturally; a child always tries to get at what it wants the nearest way: by good instructions and good habits this is cured, "Russell street, Covent Garden. till a man has not even an inclination to seize what "It is agreed between Oliver Goldsmith, M. B., on the one is another's; has no struggle with himself about hand, and Thomas Davies, bookseller, of Russell street Covent it." But, after all, if ever envy was entitled to be Garden, on the other, that Oliver Goldsmith shall write for called innocent, it certainly was so in the person Thomas Davies, a History of England, from the birth of the of Goldsmith. Whatever of this kind appeared in British Empire, to the death of George the II., in four volumnes, his conduct was but a momentary sensation, which octavo, of the size and letter of the Roman History, written by Oliver Goldsmith. The said History of England shall be he knew not like other men how to disguise or con-written and compiled in the space of two years from the date ceal. Rarely did it influence the general tenor of hereof. And when the said History is written and delivered his conduct, and, it is believed, was never once known to have embittered his heart. and perseverance, and the citizens displayed such valour, patience, and fortitude, under innumerable hardships and privations, that the city was finally saved. For his services on this occasion Mr. "MEMORANDUM. in manuscript, the printer giving his opinion that the quantity above mentioned is completed, that then Oliver Goldsmith shall be paid by Thomas Davies the sum of 5002. sterling, for having written and compiled the same. It is agreed also, tha Oliver Goldsmith shall print his name to the said work. In While Goldsmith was occupied with his comedy of the "Good-natured Man," he was, as usual, busily employed in the compilation of various pub-witness whereof we have set our names the 13th of June, 1769. "Oliver Goldsmith. "Thomas Davies." "MEMORANDUM. "September 15, 1770. "It is agreed between Oliver Goldsmith, M. B., and Thomas lications for the booksellers, particularly a series of histories for the instruction of young readers. These were, his "History of Rome," in 2 vols. 8vo. and the "History of England," in 4 vols. 8vo. The "History of Greece," in 2 vols. 8vo. pub- Davies, of Covent Garden, bookseller, that Oliver Goldsmith lished under his name after his death, can not shall abridge, for Thomas Davies, the book entitled Goldwith certainty be ascribed to his pen. For the "History of England," Davies the bookseller contracted to pay him 500l. and for an abridgment of the Roman history, the sum of fifty guineas.* These historical compilations possess all the ease, The articles of agreement relative to these works between the bookseller and Goldsmith having been preserved, we quote them for the gratification of our reader's curiosity, especially as they were drawn by the doctor himself. smith's Roman History, in two volumes, 8vo, into one volume in 12mo, so as to fit it for the use of such as will not be at the expense of that in 8vo. For the abridging of the said history, and for putting his name thereto, said Thomas Davies shall pay Oliver Goldsmith fifty guineas; to be paid him on the auridgment and delivering of the copy. As witness our hands. "Oliver Goldsmith. "Thomas Davies." A curious journal which Mr. Walker had kept of all the occurrences during the siege, was published at that period, in 4to, and was afterwards republished by the late Dr. Brow Walker, who belonged to the Established Church, | could have opposed and refuted. But the whole is was afterwards created Bishop of Dromore by King truly excellent as a composition. About the same William; but his military zeal prompted him to time, he drew up a preface or introduction to Dr. volunteer his services at the battle of the Boyne, Brookes's "System of Natural History," in 6 vols. where he was unfortunately killed. Of this ex- 12mo, in itself a very dull and uninteresting work; traordinary character Goldsmith takes a very slight but such an admirable display of the subject was and rather disrespectful notice, stating him to have given in the preface, which he rendered doubly capbeen a dissenting minister, which he was not, and tivating by the charms of his style, that the bookneglecting to record either his promotion or his sellers immediately engaged him to undertake his death.* own larger work of the "History of the Earth and Goldsmith, besides his regular employment in the Animated Nature." It was this work which Dr. compilation of these histories, had now all the other Johnson emphatically said, its author would "make business of an author by profession. Either through as entertaining as a Persian Tale." The result friendship or for money, but oftener from charity to proved the accuracy of the judgment thus passed on the needy or unsuccessful of his brethren, he was it; for, although it contains numerous defects, yet frequently engaged in the composition of prefaces, the witchery of its language has kept it buoyant in dedications, and introductions to the performances spite of criticism. The numerous editions through of other writers. These exhibit ingenious proofs which it has passed attest, that, if not a profound, of his ready talent at general writing, and for the it is at least a popular work; and few will be dispos most part gave a much better display of the subjects ed to deny, that with all its faults, if not the most treated of than could have been done by their own instructive, it is undoubtedly the most amusing work authors. But in this view he is rather to be con- of the kind yet published. It would be absurd to sidered as an advocate pleading the cause of ano- aver, that an adept would find himself enlightened ther, than as delivering the sentiments of his own by the doctor's labours in that science: but a commind; for he often recommends the doubtful pecu- mon reader will find his curiosity gratified, and that liarities, and even the defects of a work, which it is time agreeably disposed of which he bestows on this obvious, had been engaged on the other side, he work. When our author engaged in this compicould with equal ability have detected and exposed. lation, he resolved to make a translation of Pliny, Something like this our readers will find in an Ad- and, by the help of a commentary, to make that dress to the Public, which was to usher in propo- agreeable writer more generally acceptable to the sals for "A New History of the World, from the public; but the appearance of Buffon's work induced creation to the present time," in 12 vols. 8vo. by him to change his plan, and instead of translating Guthrie and others, to be printed for Newberry. an ancient writer, he resolved to imitate the last This undertaking was to form an abridgment of all and best of the moderns who had written on the the volumes of the ancient and modern universal his- same subject. To this illustrious Frenchman Goldtories; and our author urges a great variety of topics smith acknowledges the highest obligations, but, in praise of such contractions and condensing of his- unluckily, he has copied him without discriminatorical materials, which, with equal ingenuity, he tion, and, while he selected his beauties, heedlessly adopted his mistakes. low, relieved their hunger, and cured the dysentery at the same time. *Our author's inaccuracy, with regard to Mr. Walker, was corrected in the following letter addressed to him by Mr. Woolsey, of Dundalk: "To Dr. Goldsmith.-Sir, I beg leave to acquaint you, there is a mistake in your abridgment of the History of England, respecting Dr. Walker, viz. 'one Walker, a dissenting minister.' author of the Estimate, etc. One very providential circumIn a serio-comical apostrophe to the author, Mr. stance happened to the besieged. Being reduced by the ex- Cumberland observes, on the subject of this work, tremity of famine to eat every kind of unwholesome food, they that "distress drove Goldsmith upon undertakings were dying in great numbers of the bloody flux; but the acci- neither congenial with his studies, nor worthy of his dental discovery of some concealed barrels of starch and taltalents. I remember him, when, in his chambers in the Temple, he showed me the beginning of his Animated Nature;' it was with a sigh, such as genius draws, when hard necessity diverts it from its bent to drudge for bread, and talk of birds, and beasts, and creeping things, which Pidcock's showman would have done as well. Poor fellow, he hardly knew an ass from a mule, nor a turkey from a goose. but when he saw it on the table. But publishers hate poetry, and Paternoster-row is not Parnassus. Even the mighty Dr. Hill, who was not a very delicate feeder, could not make a dinner out of the press, till, by a happy transformation into Hannah Glass, he turned himself into a cook, and sold receipts for made-dishes to all the savoury readers in the kingdom. Then, indeed, the press acknow. "I venture to assure you, Mr. Walker was a clergyman of the Established Church of Ireland, who was appointed Bishop of Dromore by King William, for his services at Derry, but was unfortunately killed at the battle of the Boyne; which I hope you will be pleased to insert in future editions of your late book. "The Duke of Schomberg was certainly killed in passing the river Boyne. I am, Sir, with great respect, your most obedient humble servant, Dundalk, April 10, 1772." "Thomas Woolsey," amount of the note he had returned, with an acknowledgment for the disinterestedness he had evinced on the occasion. ledged him second in fame only to John Bunyan: Jed, "was certainly too much, because more than he his feasts kept pace in sale with Nelson's Fasts; thought any publisher could afford, or, indeed, than and when his own name was fairly written out of any modern poetry whatever could be worth." credit, he wrote himself into immortality under an The sale of this poem, however, was so rapid and alias. Now, though necessity, or I should rather extensive, that the bookseller soon paid him the full say, the desire of finding money for a masquerade, drove Oliver Goldsmith upon abridging histories, and turning Buffon into English, yet I much doubt, if, without that spur, he would ever have put his Pegasus into action: no, if he had been rich, the world would have been poorer than it is, by the loss of all the treasures of his genius, and the contributions of his pen." Although criticism has allotted the highest rank to "The Traveller," there is no doubt that "The Deserted Village" is the most popular and favourite poem of the two. Perhaps no poetical piece of equal length has been more universally read by all Much in the same style was Goldsmith himself classes or has more frequently supplied extracts accustomed to talk of his mercenary labours. A for apt quotation. It abounds with couplets and poor writer consulted him one day on what subjects single lines, so simply beautiful in sentiment, so he might employ his pen with most profit: "My musical in cadence, and so perfect in expression, dear fellow," said Goldsmith, laughing, indeed, but that the ear is delighted to retain them for their in good earnest, "pay no regard to the draggle-tail truth, while their tone of tender melancholy indeli Muses; for my part, I have always found produc- bly engraves them on the heart.-The charactertions in prose more sought after and better paid istic of our author's poetry is a prevailing simplicifor." ty, which conceals all the artifices of versification: On another occasion, one of his noble friends, but it is not confined to his expression alone, for it whose classical taste he knew and admired, lament- pervades every feature of the poem. His delineaed to him his neglect of the Muses, and enquired tion of rural scenery, his village portraits, his moral, of him why he forsook poetry, to compile histories, political, and classical allusions, while marked by and write novels? "My lord," said our author, singular fidelity, chasteness, and elegance, are all "by courting the Muses I shall starve, but by my other labours, I eat, drink, and have good clothes, and enjoy the luxuries of life." This is, no doubt, the reason that his poems bear so small a proportion to his other productions; but it is said, that he always reflected on these sacrifices to necessity with the bitterest regret. chiefly distinguished for this pleasing and natural character. The finishing is exquisitely delicate, without being overwrought; and, with the feelings of tenderness and melancholy which runs through the poem, there is occasianally mixed up a slight tincture of pleasantry, which gives an additional interest to the whole. Although Goldsmith thus toiled for a livelihood "The Deserted Village" is written in the same in the drudgery of compilation, we do not find that style and measure with "The Traveller," and may he had become negligent of fame. His leisure in some degree be considered a suite of that poem: hours were still devoted to his Muse; and the next pursuing some of the views and illustrating in their voluntary production of his pen was the highly-results some of the principles there laid down. But finished poem of "The Deserted Village." Pre- the poet is here more intimately interested in his vious to its publication, the bookseller who had bar-subject. The case is taken from his own experigained for the manuscript, gave him a note for one ence, the scenery drawn from his own home, and hundred guineas. Having mentioned this soon the application especially intended for his own afterwards to some of his friends, one of them re- country. marked, that it was a very great sum for so short a The main intention of the poem is to contrast performance. "In truth," said Goldsmith, "agriculture with commerce, and to maintain that think so too; it is much more than the honest man the former is the most worthy pursuit, both as it can afford, or the piece is worth: I have not been regards individual happiness and national prosperieasy since I received it; I will therefore go back and ty. He proceeds to show that commerce, while it return him his note:" which he actually did, and causes an influx of wealth, introduces also luxury, left it entirely to the bookseller to pay him accordand its attendant vices and miseries. He dwells ing to the success of the sale and the profits it might with pathos on the effects of those lordly fortunes produce. His estimate of the value of this perform- which create little worlds of solitary magnificence ance was formed from data somewhat singular around them, swallowing up the small farins in for a poet, who most commonly appreciates his la- their wide and useless domains; thus throwing an bours rather by their quality than their quantity. air of splendour over the country, while in fact they He computed, that a hundred guineas was equal to hedge and wall out its real life and soul—its hardy five shillings a couplet, which, he modestly observ- peasantry. Ill fares the land, to hast'ning ills a prey, as might be applied to village-life in England, and modified them accordingly. He took what belonged to human nature in rustic life, and adapted it to the allotted scene. In the same way a painter takes his models from real life around him, even when he would paint a foreign or a classic group. The poet, again personified in the traveller, re- There is a verity in the scenes and characters of turns from his wanderings in distant countries to "The Deserted Village" that shows Goldsmith to the village of his childhood. In the opening of the have described what he had seen and felt; and it poem he draws from memory a minute and beauti- is upon record that an occurrence took place at ful picture of the place, and fondly recalls its sim- Lishoy, during his life time, similar to that which ple sports and rustic gambols. In all his journey-produced the desolation of the village in the poem. ings, his perils, and his sufferings, he had ever look- This occurrence is thus related by the Rev. Dr. ed forward to this beloved spot, as the haven of re- Strean, of the diocese of Elphin, in a letter to Mr. pose for the evening of his days. And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue, Mangin, and inserted in that gentleman's "Essay on light reading." "The poem of "The Deserted Village,'" says Dr. Strean, "took its origin from the circumstance of General Robert Napier, the grandfather of the With these expectations he returns, after the gentleman who now lives in the house, within lapse of several years, and finds the village deserted and desolate. A splendid mansion had risen in its neighbourhood; the cottages and hamlets had been demolished; their gardens and fields were thrown into parks and pleasure-grounds; and their rustic inhabitants, thrust out from their favourite abodes, had emigrated to another hemisphere. To distant climes, a dreary scene, Where half the convex world intrudes between, Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go, Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe. half a mile of Lishoy, built by the general, having purchased an extensive tract of the country surrounding Lishoy, or Auburn; in consequence of which, many families, here called cottiers, were removed to make room for the intended improvements of what was now to become the wide domain of a rich man, warm with the idea of changing the face of his new acquisition, and were forced, 'with fainting steps,' to go in search of 'torrid tracts,' and 'distant climes.' "This fact might be sufficient to establish the Dejected at this disappointment of his cherished seat of the poem; but there can not remain a doubt hope, the poet wanders among the faint traces of in any unprejudiced mind, when the following are past scenes, contrasting their former life and gaiety added; viz. that the character of the village preachwith their present solitude and desolation. This er, the above-named Henry, the brother of the poet, gives occasion for some of the richest and mellow-is copied from nature. He is described exactly as est picturing to be found in any poetry. The he lived: and his 'modest mansion' as it existed. village-preacher and his modest mansion; the Burn, the name of the village-master, and the site schoolmaster and his noisy troop; the ale-house of his school-house, and Catherine Giraghty, a and its grotesque frequenters, are all masterpieces lonely widow, of their kind. The wretched matron, forced in age, for bread, To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread. The village alluded to in this poem is at present sufficiently ascertained to be Lishoy, near Ballymahon, in the county of Westmeath, Ireland, in (and to this day the brook and ditches near the which Goldsmith passed his youth. It has been spot where her cabin stood abound with cresses), remarked, that the description of the place and still remain in the memory of the inhabitants, and the people, together with the introduction of the Catherine's children live in the neighbourhood. nightingale, a bird, it is said, unknown in the Irish The pool, the busy mill, the house where 'nutornithology, savour more of the rural scenery and brown draughts inspired,' are still visited as the rustic life of an English than an Irish village. But poetic scene; and the 'hawthorn bush,' growing this presents no insuperable difficulty. Such in an open space in front of the house, which I censes are customary in poetry; and it is notoriou knew to have three trunks, is now reduced to one, that the clear blue sky and the delicious tempera- the other two having been cut, from time to time, ture of Italy, have with much greater freedom by persons carrying pieces of it away to be made been appropriated by English bards to deck out into toys, etc. in honour of the bard, and of the their-lescriptions of an English spring. It is evi- celebrity of his poem. All these contribute to the dent, indeed, that Goldsmith meant to represent same proof; and the 'decent church,' which I athis village as an English one. He took from Lis-tended for upwards of eighteen years, and which hoy, therefore, only such traits and characteristics 'tors the neighbouring hill,' is exactly described |