issued in 1766, in two volumes 12mo, by F. Newbery. Of this book, a celebrated and venerable poet, who was in his nursery when it appeared, and who still survives (August, 1854), remarked, several years ago, to Mr. Forster, that of all the books which, 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 re-visit the world after an interval of many more generations, he should as surely look to find it undiminished. Little noise did it make, however, in its early days. Johnson took no interest in it after he had succeeded in selling it; and Burke was the only one of the Club who cared much about it. It made its way gradually into the universal favor which it has now maintained for nearly a century.

The Hermit was the favorite poem of the author. He was as entirely satisfied with it as Campbell is said to have been with the Farewell Stanzas to Kemble. In conversation with Mr. Cradock, a short time before his decease, he exclaimed, "As to my Hermit, that poem, Cradock, cannot be amended." When Mr. Burchell reads it, in the Vicar, he introduces it with the remark that "English poetry, like that in the latter empire of Rome, is nothing at present but a combination of luxurious images, without plot or connection; a string of epithets, that improve the sound without carrying on the sense," and offers this ballad as a production which, whatever be its other defects, is at least free from those he has mentioned.

In 1767, a communication appeared in the St. James's Chronicle, in which Goldsmith was charged with having taken the ballad from The Friar of Orders Gray, by Mr. Percy. He replied, in a letter to the printer of that paper, that if there was any resemblance between the two poems, his own was not the imitation, as it was written and read to Mr. Percy before the composition of his ballad. "Were it not," he adds, "for the busy disposition of some of your correspondents, the public should never have known that he owes me the hint of his ballad, or that I am obliged to his friendship and learning for communications of a much more important nature." In his next edition of the Reliques, Mr. Percy confirmed the statement in regard to the priority of composition, but suggests that, if there is any imitation in the case, both will be found indebted to the beautiful old ballad, The Gentle Herdsman, contained in the second volume of his work.

Mr. Mitford, in his edition of Goldsmith's poems, reprints a French ballad, entitled Raimond et Angeline, and, in the Life prefixed, alludes to the allegation that the English poet was a mere translator from an old scarce French romance. Goldsmith's old enemy,

Griffiths, had given countenance to the charge in the Monthly Review; and Mr. Mitford not only discusses the subject as if there were really some reason for believing it, but leaves the point unsettled. From the name of the volume the Quiz-in which the charge originally appeared (in 1797, not 1767), the nature of it would seem obvious enough; but, by referring to the title "Goldsmith," in the Biographie Universelle, it will be found that there were four French translations of this ballad, one of which, by a poet of the name of Leonard, was published with the title of Raimond et Angeline. We presume there can be no doubt that this is the poem reprinted by Mr. Mitford as the possible original.

Goldsmith's increased reputation augmented his expenses, and brought new social demands upon his time, but added little to his income. This year he was glad to receive ten pounds from Payne, the bookseller, for compiling a duodecimo volume of Poems for Young Ladies; and especially was he pleased when, by the mere use of his judgment and a red-lead pencil, he could draw upon Griffin for fifty pounds, as the copy money of his Beauties of English Poetry. In this selection his "judgment" was so far at fault, that it admitted two exceptionable poems of Prior, which banished his volume from the parlor table even of circles so little squeamish as then composed English society. Such supplies, with two guineas, now and then, for writing a preface, and "five guineas for writing a short English grammar," did not prevent him from becoming a debtor, as per the memorandum still extant, in the sum of one pound one to Mr. Newbery, on the 6th of January, 1767.

In the midst of these petty and annoying labors, Goldsmith was aspiring to fame in another department of literature. He submitted to Garrick the manuscript of The Good-natured Man, a comedy not written after the prevailing sentimental taste, and which the great actor did not think likely to succeed. It was afterwards accepted by Colman, and first acted at Covent Garden on the 29th of January, 1768. The prologue was written by Johnson, and the character of Croaker was played with rich and peculiar humor by Shuter, — but the play

was not very successful. It was performed ten consecutive nights; the author's three nights produced him four hundred pounds, and its publication by Griffin one hundred pounds more, which he soon wasted in his increased expenditures. At the close of this year, he had the honor to be appointed professor of ancient history in the Royal Academy of Arts; and early in 1769 he went to Oxford with Johnson, and received the degree of M. B. The same year he published, in two octavo volumes, his Roman History, a work for popular use, which met with a ready sale, and which Johnson pronounced a better abridgment than that of Lucius Florus or Eutropius. For this work he received two hundred and fifty guineas, and it led to a contract with Davies, its publisher, for a History of England, in four volumes, for five hundred guineas. Previous to this, however, he had entered into an engagement with Griffin for a Natural History, in eight volumes, at one hundred guineas each. His expenses kept more than even pace with his engagements, instead of his receipts. He lived on his prospective fortunes, and squandered his money, before he had earned it, in various forms of idle extravagance. His popularity was now at its height, and he levied upon it for the creation of new responsibilities and involvements, that led ultimately to pecuniary ruin and his premature death.

On the 26th of May, 1770, the Public Advertiser contained the following announcement: "This day, at 12, will be published, price two shillings, The Deserted Village, a Poem. By Dr. Goldsmith. Printed for W. Griffin, at Garrick's Head in Catherine-street, Strand." It was received with great favor. Four editions had appeared by the end of June. When Gray heard it read by his friend Nicholls at Malvern, he exclaimed, "That man is a poet! Goethe was delighted with it, and immediately set to work to translate it into German. "What true and pretty pastoral images," exclaimed Burke, years afterwards, and when the poet was no longer living to enjoy the praise," has Goldsmith in his Deserted Village! They beat all, — Pope, Phillips, and Spenser, too,— in my opinion.”

Goldsmith is said to have been engaged four or five years in collecting materials for this work, and for two years in its construction. Lissoy, near Ballymahon, where his brother the clergyman had his living, has been claimed as the scene of the poem; and plates and

descriptions of the local scenery supposed to be intended by the poet were published in 1811 in quarto by the Rev. R. H. Newell, fellow of St. John's College, Cork. Mr. Forster says, however, that the poem is too thoroughly English in the feelings, incidents, descriptions and allusions, to justify needless trouble in seeking to identify sweet Auburn with Lissoy. "It is quite natural," he adds, "that Irish enthusiasts should have found out the fence, the furze, the thorn, the decent church, the never-failing brook, the busy mill; it was to be expected that pilgrims should have borne away every vestige of the first hawthorn they could lay their hands on; it was perfectly reasonable, and in the way of business, to rebuild the village inn as Mr. Hogan did, and fix broken tea-cups in the wall that pilgrims might not carry them away, and to christen his speculation by the name of Auburn. All this, as Walter Scott has said, is a 'pleasing tribute to the poet in the land of his fathers,' but it is certainly no more."

What Goldsmith received for the poem is uncertain. The story runs that he had agreed with Griffin for one hundred pounds, but returned part of it on some one telling him that five shillings a couplet was more than any poetry was worth, and would only ruin the poor bookseller who gave it. It is so incredible that Goldsmith could have had the money to return, if he had been long enough in possession to spend it or give it away, that we are inclined to doubt the truth of this, though Bishop Percy says it would have been quite in character.

Soon after the publication of his poem, he accompanied Mrs. Horneck and her fair daughters on a journey to Paris, on his return from which he received letters informing him of his mother's death. During the summer, his Life of Parnell was published, the sale of which was so satisfactory that Davies immediately contracted with the author for another memoir, The Life of Bolingbroke. While engaged on this work he went into the country on a visit to Lord Clare, and Davies was plagued" to get the proofs from him." He continued with Lord Clare during the early months of 1771, and addressed to him during the year, it would seem for his special amusement, the verses entitled The Haunch of Venison. It was not till two years after the poet's death that they were made public, when they were printed from a copy given by his lordship to Mr. Bunbury.

Goldsmith returned to London for a short time, to see his English History through the press, and then again repaired to the country, to busy himself with another comedy. On the 15th of March, 1773, She Stoops to Conquer was performed at Covent Garden, and, in spite of the predictions of failure by Colman, the manager, with the most entire success. The account which Cumberland gives, in his Memoirs, of the efforts made by his friends to bring about this result, is now understood to be of very doubtful authority. Mr. Day, afterwards one of the Irish judges, then a student at the Temple, says that he and some of the author's friends, knowing the adverse expectations entertained of the comedy, had assembled in great force in the pit to protect it; but they found no difficulty to encounter, for it "was received throughout with the greatest acclamations." Goldsmith did not go to the theatre, but was found by a friend sauntering, between seven and eight o'clock, in the mall of St. James's Park. On his friend's earnestly representing to him that his presence might be very important, if any sudden alteration should be found necessary in any scene, he consented to go to the theatre. He entered the stagedoor at the opening of the fifth act, and heard a solitary hiss. "What's that! what's that!" he cried out to the manager, not a little alarmed. "Psha! Doctor," replied Colman; "don't be afraid of a squib, when we have been sitting these two hours on a barrel of gunpowder." This joke Goldsmith never forgot or forgave, though he might well have done so, when his three nights yielded him between four and five hundred pounds, and the copyright settled an old debt of Newbery's, that had been a source of great annoyance to him.

A libel in the London Packet followed hard on this success, which led to an assault by Goldsmith on the publisher, a Welshman by the name of Evans. Goldsmith was no match for his stout antagonist, and a scuffle ensued, in which the poet is thought to have come off second best. At all events, he was indicted for his offence, and compromised it with Evans by paying fifty pounds to a Welsh charity. The papers abused the poet, and he defended himself in a well-written address to the public, which appeared in the Daily Advertiser. It was aimed at that abuse of the liberty of the press which had then become intolerable. Johnson said it was a foolish thing well done; and Boswell thought it so well done that he could not imagine it to have been