through the fitful changes of three generations, he had seen rise and fall, the charm of the Vicar of Wakefield had alone continued as at first, and could he revisit the world after an interval of many more generations, he should as surely look to find it undiminished. Nor has its celebrity been confined to Great Britain. Though so exclusively a picture of British scenes and manners, it has been translated into almost every language, and everywhere its charm has been the same. Goethe, the great genius of Germany, declared, in his eightyfirst year, that it was his delight at the age of twenty; that it had, in a manner, formed a part of his education, influencing his taste and feelings throughout life; and that he had recently read it again from beginning to end-with renewed delight, and with a grateful sense of the early benefit derived from it.

GOLDSMITH AT ISLINGTON.

The Tower of Canonbury House was let out in apartments from an early period. Sir John Hawkins churlishly says:

Of the booksellers whom he (Goldsmith) styled his friends, Mr. Newbery was one. This person had apartments at Canonbury House, where Goldsmith often lay concealed from his creditors.

Mr. Forster in his very interesting Life and Adventures, gives the following resumé of Oliver's residence at this then suburban village:

With a view to health, and perhaps to be near Newbery, for whom his pen was at that time chiefly employed, Goldsmith removed to this neighbourhood to board and lodge, in the house of a Mrs. Elizabeth Fleming, at the close of the year 1762, probably about Christmas. The sum stipulated for this accommodation was fifty pounds a year, at that period equal to twice the amount now, which the publisher, as cashbearer to the poet, paid quarterly, taking credit for such payments in tne settlement of their accounts. The lady whose inmate he became is represented in a picture, which appeared in the winter exhibition of the works of deceased artists of Britain, in 1832. It was named "Goldsmith's Hostess," and is said to have been painted by Hogarth. At Islington the bard continued a resident till towards the end of 1764, for it appears that he was still living there in September of that year. Whether his removal thence was occasioned by his arrest, or threatened arrest, which took place about February or March, 1764, by the landlady, or whether this event occurred whilst he was in temporary lodgings in London, is doubtful; probably the latter; for it is not likely that having been an inmate so long, and with Newbery as responsible paymaster, Mrs. Fleming would have had recourse to such an expedient. (See Prior's Life of Goldsmith.) Goldsmith is remarkable for the frequent mention made of Islington in his writings: and to this village, where he spent much of his time, he was very partial.

A number of literary acquaintances Goldsmith had for fellow occupants of the Castle, (as Canonbury Tower* was called,) they formed a temporary club, which held its meetings at the Crown Tavern, on the Islington Lower-road; and here Oliver presided in his own genial style, and was the life and delight of the company.

OLIVER AT WHITE CONDUIT HOUSE.

When Goldsmith resided at Islington, he sometimes extended his walks to White Conduit House, then in the fields, but twice rebuilt within our recollection.† While strolling one day in the gardens, he met three females of the family of a respectable tradesman, to whom he was under some obligation. He kindly conducted them about the garden, treated them to tea, and ran up a bill in the most openhanded manner imaginable; it was only when he came to pay that he found himself in one of his old dilemmas: he had not the money in his pocket. A scene of perplexity now took place between him and the waiter, in the midst of which came up some of his acquaintances, in whose eyes he wished to stand particularly well. This completed his mortification. There was no concealing the awkwardness of his position. The sneers of the waiter revealed it; his acquaintances amused themselves for some time at his expense, professing their inability to relieve him. When they had enjoyed their banter, the waiter was paid, and Goldsmith enabled to convoy off the ladies. This scene has been cleverly painted by one of the humorous artists of the present day.

"See on the distant slope, majestic shows
Old Canonbury's Tower, an ancient pile

To various fates assigned; and where by turns
Meanness and grandeur have alternate reigned;
Thither, in latter days, hath genius fled
From yonder city, to respire and die.

There the sweet bard of Auburn sat, and tuned
The plaintive moanings of his village dirge.
There learned Chambers treasured lore for men,
And Newbery there his A B C's for babes."

There is an old tradition extant that the workmen were regaling themselves upon the completion of the first White Conduit House, at the instant Charles I. was beheaded at Whitehall.

GOLDSMITH IN GRAY'S INN.

Between the date of his leaving Wine Office-court, early in 1764, and his return to Islington at the beginning of April in that year, Goldsmith occupied, while his attic in the library staircase of the Temple was preparing, a temporary lodging in Gray's Inn. He was now at work for the Dodsleys, and the sharp poverty he was suffering appears from a brief note to John Dodsley; "which," says Mr. Forster, "has been communicated to me by my friend, Mr. Peter Cunningham, whose success in matters of literary research is as undoubted as the ability with which he communicates his discoveries." "Sir," it runs, being dated from Gray's Inn, on March 10, 1764, "I shall take it as a favour if you can let me have ten guineas per bearer, for which I promise to account. I am, sir, your humble servant, OLIVER GOLDSMITH. P.S.-I shall call to see you on Wednesday next with copy, &c." Whether the money was advanced, or the copy supplied, does not appear.-Notes to Life and Adventures of Oliver Goldsmith, p. 703.

"THE TRAVELLER."

Goldsmith had, as yet, produced nothing of moment in poetry. It is true he had written an Oratorio entitled the Captivity, founded on the bondage of the Israelites in Babylon. Most of this has passed into oblivion; but the following song from it will never die :

"The wretch condemned from life to part,

Still, still on hope relies,

And every pang that rends the heart

Bids expectation rise.

"Hope, like the glimmering taper's light,

Illumes and cheers our way;

And still, as darker grows the night,
Emits a brighter ray."

Goldsmith distrusted his qualifications to succeed in poetry, and doubted the disposition of the public mind in regard to it. "I fear," said he, "I have come too late in the world; Pope and other poets have taken up the places in the Temple of Fame; and as few at any period can possess poetical repu tation, a man of genius can now hardly acquire it." Again, he thought its pursuit the wildest ambition: he evidently

dreaded the opposing systems of criticism, and the baneful influences of party.

For

Meanwhile, he had by him his poem of the Traveller. this beautiful production he had collected materials during his travels; and a part of it had been actually written in Switzerland, and transmitted from that country to the author's brother, the Rev. Henry Goldsmith. Dr. Johnson aided him with several general hints; and is said to have contributed the sentiment which Goldsmith has so beautifully versified in the concluding lines.

We hear much of "poetic inspiration," but while Goldsmith was composing his Traveller, Sir Joshua Reynolds witnessed an incident calculated to shake our belief in it. Calling upon the poet, Sir Joshua found him in the double occupation of turning a couplet, and teaching a pet dog to sit upon his haunches. First, he would glance his eye at the desk, and then shake his finger at the dog to make him retain his position. The last lines on the page were still wet; they form a part of the description of Italy:

"By sports like these are all their cares beguiled,

The sports of children satisfy the child."

Goldsmith, with his usual good humour joined in the laugh, and acknowledged that his boyish sport with the dog suggested the stanza.

The poem was published December 19, 1764, in quarto, by Newbery, and was the first of his works to which Goldsmith prefixed his name: he dedicated it to his brother Henry. This was his grand stake, though he affected indifference as to its fate in three months a second edition was issued; shortly afterwards a third; then a fourth; and before the end of 1765, the author was pronounced the best poet of his time. Newbery reaped a golden harvest, but all he paid the poet-first and last-was twenty guineas!

One of the highest testimonials to the charm of the poem was given by Miss Reynolds, who had toasted poor Goldsmith as the ugliest man of her acquaintance. Dr. Johnson read the Traveller aloud, from beginning to end, in her presence. "Well," exclaimed she, when he had finished, "I never more shall think Dr. Goldsmith ugly." On another occasion, at Sir Joshua's, Langton declared there was not a bad line in the poem, not one of Dryden's careless verses. "I was glad," observed Reynolds, "to hear Charles Fox say it

was one of the finest poems in the English language." "Why were you glad," rejoined Langton; "you surely had no doubt of this before ?" "No," interposed Johnson, decisively; "the merit of the Traveller is so well established, that Mr. Fox's praise cannot augment it, nor his censure diminish it." Johnson had previously declared the Traveller to be the finest poem that had appeared since the days of Pope. "No philosophical poem, ancient or modern," says Lord Macaulay, "has a plan so noble, and at the same time so simple."

Among the persons of rank who were struck with its merits was the Earl (afterwards Duke) of Northumberland, and Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, who sent for Goldsmith to Northumberland House, and said he should be glad to do him any kindness. The poet replied that he had a brother there, a clergyman, that stood in need of help: "as for myself," said Goldsmith, "I have no great dependence on the promises of great men; I look to the booksellers for support; they are my best friends, and I am not inclined to forsake them for others." "Thus," said Sir John Hawkins, in his coarse manner, “ did this idiot in the affairs of the world trifle with his fortunes, and put back the hand that was held out to assist him." Hawkins had neither the feeling nor sense to see or admire that honest independence of spirit which prevented Goldsmith from asking favours for himself, or the warmth of affection which instantly sought to advance the fortunes of a brother.

THE CLUB."

After the publication of the Traveller, Goldsmith assumed the professional dress of the medical science, a scarlet coat, wig, sword, and cane; and was one of the nine original members of "the Club," limited to that number in imitation of Johnson's club in Ivy-lane. The Club was held at the Turk's Head, in Gerrard-street: he joined it somewhat unwillingly, saying: "One must make some sacrifices to obtain good society; for here I am shut out of several places where I used to play the fool very agreeably:" his simplicity of character and hurried expression often led him into absurdity, and he became, in some degree, the butt of the company. Garrick, in particular, was busy upon him with his small epigrammatic wit. The club, notwithstanding all its learned dignity in the eyes of the world, (such as objecting to be styled “Literary," &c.) could occasionally "unbend and play