His sister discribes him as possessing "two plied with. Prior to going to bed, he ordered a See Æsop dancing, and his monkey playing." After about five years of this kind of rebuff and insult, relieved by cricket, hornpipe dancing and other amusements, Oliver, at the age of eleven, was removed to the school of the Rev. Mr. Campbell, at Athlone, where he remained for about two years. In the meantime, his brother Henry had become a pensioner to Dublin University, where, in due course, Oliver was to be sent, as he had already showed some little talent in versification. In consequence of Mr. Campbell's failing health, young Goldsmith was next sent to a school at Edgeworthstown, kept by the Rev. Patrick Hughes, where he began to make considerable progress: became fond of Ovid, Horace, and Livy; mastered Tacitus; but hated Cicero. During the four years he remained here, he conquered his shyness, over-with; and it appears that during this time his came many of his awkward ways; and even took the leader's place in the mischievous sports and depredations of the boys. "Whenever a trick was going forward. Noll Goldsmith was certain to be in it, actor or victim." It was while at this school that a little adventure befell him, which subsequently formed the groundwork or principal incident in his own standard comedy of She Stoops to Conquer." It was at the close of his last holidays, when about seventeen years of age, that he left home for Edgeworthstown, mounted on a borrowed. hack, which a friend was to return to Lissoy. He had a guinea in his pocket; and thinking himself free and independent to act for himself, he lingered about until night overtook him some miles out of the track of Mr. Hughes's school. He at once determined to put up at the best house" in the neighbourhood; and with a considerable amount of bombast, asked of a rustic where such a place could be found. The man, amused at the swagger of the boy, and being a bit of a wag, directed him to the mansion of Squire Featherstown, as being the "best house at Ardagh." Oliver at once rode up, rang a the gate, gave his horse in charge to be rubbed down, stabled, and fed, and ordered things to be done in such a high hand that the servants thought him some invited guest. He was then shown into the parlour to the Squire, who, in a very few moments, discovered how the lad had been misled; and liking a joke himself, humoured the deception. Oliver ordered his supper, which was duly brought, and so pleased was he with it, that he ordered a bottle of wine to follow. This was soon placed before him; but Oliver, as we before said, was good-natured. The worthy landlord, his wife, and pretty daughter, must also share it with him, whichi, amid much amusement and laughter, was com One of Oliver's former schoolfellows was a sizar with him, and these two occupied a toproom adjoining the library, numbered 35, where the name of Oliver Goldsmith may still be seen scratched by himself upon a window-pane. In the commencement of the year 1747, after Oliver had been at college a year and a half, his father died suddenly, and the hitherto slender means which had supplied the poor collegian for his daily wants died with him. It was a hard struggle then for Oliver. His uncle Contarine supplied him with a little money occasionally; but he often had to borrow small sums from his fellow-students, and to pawn his books. Next, to keep himself from actual starvation, he took to writing street- allads, which he disposed of at five shillings a copy, at the Reinde r Repository, Monmouth Court; and now, his greatest delight was to steal out from college to hear his effusions sung. He found that the listeners round the blad-singer were pleased with his songs, and he was now happy that a small source of income was open to him. It is said, however, that very little of the various five shillings, which he received at Monmouth. Court, were taken back to college with him, for his charity was reckless in the extreme. He would frequently dispose of all he possessed, even some of his clothes, to comfort some poor half-starved wretch, and then calmly go with out himself. Oliver still plodded on with his studies, being often admonished, called ugly and ignorant by his brutal tutor, but still he managed, it is said, to get one Christmas prize for classics. We next find him engaged in a serious college riot. This was in the summer of 1747. One of the students had been arrested, and his companions at once determined upon revenge. They searched every bailiff's den in Dublin, until they found the luckless individual who had effected the arrest. They stripped him, and took him stark naked to the college pump, where they drenched him unmercifully. They set all law and interference at defiance; and then, elated with success, made for the gaol, called the Black Dog, with the intention of setting the prisoners at liberty. In this they were defeated; but several townspeople lost their lives in the affray. Five of the ringleaders were dismissed the college, and five of the lesser delinquents, among them Oliver Goldsmith, were admonished. To wipe out the disgrace, he next month tried for a scholarship. This he lost, but gained an exhibition worth about thirty shillings. This was wealth to poor Oliver; and he determined to celebrate the event by a small dancing party in his room. In the midst of their festivities, the unforgiving and brutal tutor entered, and knocked Oliver down. Smarting under this indignity, he next day sold his books for a small sum, and quitted college. He did not make for home, but lingered about Dublin until he came to his last shilling. Then he wended his way on foot for Cork, to see if there was a possibility of getting to America. On his journey, he parted with some of his clothes to obtain food and lodging; and he afterwards told Sir Joshua Reynolds that the best meal he ever tasted was a handful of gray peas, given to him by a young girl after he had fasted for twenty-four hours. Finding his chance of getting to America hopeless, he then turned his steps in the direction of Lissoy. His brother, who had somehow heard of his abject state, met him on the road, clothed him, and took him back to college. He had still to suffer many rebuffs from his persecutor, Mr. Wilder, though never knocked down again. This man was afterwards killed in a dissolute brawl. His On the 27th of February, 1749, Oliver took his degree of Bachelor of Arts, and soon after returned to his mother's house, who, in her reversed circumstances, lived in a small cottage at Ballymahon, near Edgeworthstown. brother Henry had been appointed to his father's original living of "forty pounds a year" at Pallasmore, and was master of the village school as well. His sister, Mrs. Hodson, was mistress of the old house at Lissoy. His uncle, Contarine, and other friends, urged Oliver to qualify for holy orders, and he at last consented. As he was only twenty-one, he would have to wait two years for this: and to while away this period, we find him writing verses for his uncle, running errands for his mother, assisting his brother in the school, and forming a club at the village ale-house, where a few noisy spirits, among them his cousin, met to tell stories, sing songs, and play whist. He would also occasionally be found learning French from the Irish priests, fishing on the banks of the Inny, otterhunting, playing his flute, and winning a prize at the fair of Ballymahon, for throwing the sledge-hammer. At length, the time arrived for him to apply for clerical orders. It appears that he was examined and sent back, but for what cause it cannot be well ascertained. Some say that he applied in scarlet breeches; others, that it was owing to the enmity of his old college tutor, who had told the Bishop of his Dublin irregularities. It was also well known that Oliver himself hadd no liking for a clerical profession, and his His answers might not have been so well weighed as they should have been. On his return, his uncle Contarine got him an engagement as tutor in an Irish family. The terins were for a twelvemonth; and during that period, he taught and played cards alternately. At the end of the year, having accused one of the family with unfair play, he left to return home again. He had thirty pounds in his pocket, and was the owner of a good stout horse. His mother, however, perhaps remembering his former indolent habits, did not make his home very comfortable, and Oliver set off again for Cork with the dream of America in his mind. In six weeks, he returned without a penny in his pocket, and riding one of the sorriest beasts imaginable, and which he had christened "Fiddleback." reception may be imagined from the remark he made to his mother:-"And now, dear mother, after having struggled so hard to come home, I wonder you are not more rejoiced to see me." He then took his departure for his brother's residence; and from thence addressed a letter to his mother, to the effect that he had sold his horse at Cork, paid his passage to America; that the wind being unfavourable, he had wandered about the adjacent country; but, the wind suddenly veering, the captain had sailed without him. He stayed until reduced to his last two guineas; then purchased Fiddleback for one pound fifteen shillings. With five shillings in his pocket, he again started for home, gave his last coin to a beggar on the road, and became a beggar himself at the house of a college-acquaintance, who set before him a porringer of sour milk and a piece of musty cheese, recommending him, at the same time, to sell his horse, and ride home on a stout cudgel. It was next determined that Oliver should study for the law. His good uncle, Contarine, again stood his friend, and came forward with fifty pounds. With this sum, Oliver arrived safe in Dublin; but a Roscommon acquaintance getting hold of him, he was induced to try his uck at play to make his fifty into a hundred. He left off with scarcely fifty pence in his pocket. After much physical sufferings, he wrote to his uncle, confessing his fault, and asking forgiveness, which was not in vain. Once more Oliver is at home, and, as may be supposed, his mother was still more averse to his staying there. He then went to his brother's again; but shortly fell out with him, and then made his home by the fireside of his uncle Contarine. Here he amused the good old man by writing verses, social conversation, and joining his flute with Miss Contarine's harpischord. From some remarks he one day made there, in the presence of a relation-Dean Goldsmith, of Carlisle,-the latter suggested to Mr. Contarine that Oliver would make a good doctor. After a talk as to ways and means, his generous uncle made him up a purse; and in the autumn of 1752, the young man started for Edinburgh, to there study as a medical student. He is represented at Edinburgh as very sociable; a capital teller of humorous stories, and a very good singer of Irish songs. He was also fond of chemistry, and made some progress in the art. To eke out his resources, however, he was obliged to accept an engagement at a nobleman's house-probably as tutor, for he shortly writes to his uncle, "I have spent more than a fortnight every other day at the Duke of Hamilton's; but it seems they like me more as a jester than a companion; so I disdained so servile an employment." In order not to encroach too much on the purse of his kind uncle, Oliver's old habit of borrowing and getting into debt was here exercised to the fullest extent; and at length, to avoid a bailiff, who was closely pursuing him on account of a security given to a fellow-student. |