OLIVER GOLDSMITH-whose complete works are herewith issued to the world at a cheaper rate than was ever before attempted--was born at an isolated and almost inaccessible village in Ireland, called Pallas, or Pallasmore, in the county of Longford, on the 10th of November, 1728. His father, the Rev. Charles Goldsmith, was a Protestant clergyman

"Passing rich on forty pounds a year!" His stipend, however, from his clerical duties, was uncertain; and the above small income was made up by farming operations on a few fields which he cultivated. While upon this farm, five children were born to the worthy clergyman: Margaret, who died in childhood; Catherine, Henry, Jane, and Oliver, whose life we are now recording.

When the young Oliver had reached the age of two years, the circumstances of his father were materially improved. On the death of the rector of Kilkenny West, the living of the place was given to the Rev. Mr. Goldsmith. This living was the gift of his wife's uncle, and was worth nearly two hundred a-year. Upon this improvement of the fortunes of the family, in 1730. they removed from Pallasmore to the more delightful village of Lessoy, where they had a respectable house and farm in the county of Westmeath, barony of Kilkenny, about midway between the towns of Ballymahon and Athlone. Three additional children were born here during the next ten years: Maurice, Charles, and John. The latter died in early years; and, with the exception of one, all the other children, as they grew up, passed through a life of viscissitude, and, in some cases, privation. At the age of twenty, Charles went, as a friendless adventurer, to Jamaica; and after an absence of some years, came to London, where he ultimately died, about fifty years ago, miserably poor, at a humble lodging in Somers Town. Catherine was fortunate enough to secure a wealthy husband, Mr. Hodson; but Jane married a poor man named Johnson. Both these sisters died at Athlone, some few years after the death of their brother Oliver. They had lived long enough to rejoice in the celebrity of his name, and to associate with themselves many a little incident in connection with the immortal pages of "The Vicar of Wakefield." Maurice had been brought up as a cabinet-maker, and ultimately kept a small shop in Charlestown, county of Roscommon, dying in very poor circumstances, in 1792.

The only one that followed his father's calling was Henry, and he died, after a plodding, arduous life, a village preacher and schoolmaster, in the year 1708.

Having thus chronicled the fortunes of some of Oliver's brothers and sisters, we leave them for a time to return to the boy who was one day to earn for himself a proud niche in the Poet's Corner of Westminster Abbey.

According to all accounts, Master Oliver Goldsmith was an exceedingly dull boy." A servant in the family, afterwards known as Elizabeth Delap, who became a schoolmistress at Lissoy, first took the boy in hand, and endeavoured to teach him his letters; but, as she says, "he seemed impenetrably stupid." She made but very little progress with him; but ultimately lived to the age of ninety; and it was her greatest source of joy, in the garrulity of her old age, even thirteen years after the poet's death, to recount how it was she that taught the great Dr. Oliver Goldsmith to read.

It is

At the age of six years, Oliver was placed under the care of the village schoolmaster of Lissoy, a Mr. Thomas Byrne. He, however, had served as quarter-master of an Irish regiment, through the wars of Marlborough, and was fonder of telling the boys the adventures and "warlike scrapes" he had gone through, than teaching them to "read, write and spell." surmised that much that was told him here led, to a great extent, to the wandering life which, for a considerable time, was the chief event in Goldsmith's career. Oliver had never been a good-looking boy-in fact, he was decidedly plain; and while at this school he suffered from an attack of small-pox, which brought him nearly to death's door, and left him with features which too many of his schoolfellows called ugly. The kind-hearted old soldier pedagogue took pity on the boy, humoured his shy and awkward, unscholarly ways, and left him to pursue much of his own course. Hence it was that Oliver learned very little here.*

He was next removed to a superior school at Elphin, kept by the Rev. Mr. Griffin, where, much to his distaste, Oliver, for the first time, was put to study Horace and Ovid. He was still the pale, sickly, ill-favoured boy, and all considered him "a stupid, heavy, blockhead, little better than a fool, whom every one made fun of." The treatment he received here was never forgotten. It made him peevish and irritable; yet at times he was good-natured and even good-humoured.

His sister discribes him as possessing "two | natures." Certainly much of the scorn he received made him thoughtful, as will be presently seen. While at this school, he lodged and boarded with his uncle John, at Ballyoughter, near Elphin, and one day a visitor to the house, a notorious scapegrace of the Goldsmith family, said to him, "Why, Noll, you are become a fright. When do yon mean to get handsome again?" The poor, insuited lad said never a word, but moved away to the window. His thoughtless tormentor repeated the question with a still more bitter sneer. "I mean," said Oliver, flushing angry, "to get better when you do;" a retort worthy of his riper years. Another of equal severity and smartness is related of him at this time. While dancing a hornpipe at his uncle John's, the musician stigmatised him as ugly Esop; the retort was quick, and to the effect that he was dancing before the music of Esop's monkey. This repartee has been retained in a couplet by some of Goldsmith's biographers as follows:"Our herald hath proclaimed this saying,

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 Huches, 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, overcame 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, which, amid much amusement and laughter, was com

plied with. Prior to going to bed, he ordered a hot cake for his breakfast. In the morning, after enjoying his special repast, he took out his guinea to pay for what he had partaken of, at the same time looking at the coin rather wistfully. The good-natured Squire told him to put it back again, and at the same time informed him that his house was not an inn, and that he was welcome to all the hospitality he had received.

Soon after this, Oliver left school, under the impression of going to Dublin University as a pensioner; but in consequence of his sister, Catherine, having clandestinely married a young gentleman, named Hodson, who was availing himself of the private tutorship of Henry Goldsmith, a great loss was sustained by the father, who was highly annoyed at the marriage. The elder Hodson was also indignant; and there is no doubt but that he taunted the good Charles Goldsmith about his humble position, for he at once signed a deed to pay Daniel Hodson, Esq., the sum of 4007. as the marriage portion of his daughter. This could not be met without sacrificing his tithes and some of his rented lands. Oliver was the first to suffer in consequence of this transaction; for, instead of going to Dublin as a pensioner, the means would only admit of his going as a sizar. Accordingly we next find him clad in a black gown of coarse material, without sleeves, and a red cap, the latter tantamount to a servant's badge. He had to sweep the courts, do all kinds of menial offices, wait upon the pensioners at table, and partake of his meals after the others had done. This must have been exceedingly galling to the young fellow. His uncle, the Rev. Mr. Contarine, who had married the Rev. Charles Goldsmith's sister, had told Oliver that he had himself been a sizar, and as he had borne part of the expense of the lad's schooling, our humble collegian submitted to his position with the best grace he could. He had a brute of a tutor also to deal with; and it appears that during this time his greatest solace was his flute, in addition to this he was hopeful. The popular picture of him in these University days," says one authority, "is little more than a slow, hesitating, somewhat hollow voice, heard seldom, and always to great disadvantage in the class-rooms; and of a lowsized, thick, ungainly figure, lounging about the college courts, on the wait for misery and illluck.

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 Re pository, Monmouth Court; and now, his greatest delight was to steal out from college to hear als effusions sung. He found that the listeners round the b...lad-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. 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.

He

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 ont 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 deter mined 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.

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. His 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 had 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 unele Contarine got him an engagement as tutor in an Irish family. The terms 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 Suck 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 antumn 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.