MEMOIR

OF

OLIVER GOLDSMITH,

THE father of Oliver Goldsmith was Curate of Pallas, or Pallasmore, County Longford, Ireland, where Oliver was born, November 10, 1728. At the age of six he was placed with the schoolmaster of Sissoy, in Westmeath, a good natured man, with literary tastes of a fanciful and legendary description. These had their effect on young Goldsmith, who soon began to scribble verses, some of which were thought so well of, that he was soon declared to be the genius of the family; steps were immediately taken for his better education, and the project which had been formed of bringing him up to trade was abandoned. Another circumstance told greatly in his favour. A severe attack of small-pox had left his face so much disfigured, that on some occasion it provoked a joke from one of his juvenile

acquaintance, whereupon Oliver made so lively a repartee as was thought astonishing evidence of power, and his friends agreed, in conjunction with his father, to supply the money for his college career, but the latter being unable to comply with his promise, Oliver was obliged to enter Trinity as a Sizar, that is, one who was taught and boarded gratuitously, and whose only expense was for lodging, in consideration of which he had to perform various menial offices, irksome to the feelings of gentlemen. These degrading obligations are now abolished.

Oliver's college career was by no means a pleasant one. His father died, and his friends relaxed in their assistance, with the exception of his uncle, the Rev. Thomas Contarine, on whose generosity he was now entirely dependent. His tutor, Wilder, was a harsh man, and on the occasion of a convivial party at Goldsmith's rooms he was so enraged, that he rushed into the midst of the company and brutally assaulted the unlucky poet, who, considering the disgrace as irreparable, left the university, and wandered about for four or five days, when he met with his brother, who persuaded him to return, and effected a reconciliation with Wilder. Oliver resumed his studies, but gained few honours, and finally quitted college in February, 1749, having taken his degree of Bachelor of Arts.

He had now no hope but in the favour of his uncle, Contarine, who received him willingly, and prevailed on him to study for the church. He did so, and in due time presented himself for ordination to the Bishop of Elfin, who rejected him, as most people thought on account of his former irregularities at college, but more probably because the poet appeared in a costume more resembling in brilliancy the scarlet livery of a footman than the respectable black of a clergyman. This caused his friends to think badly of him, and he got little from them but advice. His uncle, however, supplied him with £50, and it was decided that Oliver should study the law, but unfortunately he met with an old friend in Dublin, and the money was squandered in dissipation or lost at play.

Oliver next turned his attention to medicine, and his family supporting him, he went to Edinburgh, where immediately occurred a ludicrous instance of his forgetfulness. He hired a room, deposited his trunks, &c., went out for a walk, and when at a late hour he thought of returning home, he found that he had neglected to ascertain either the name or address of his landlady. Fortunately

he met the porter whom he had employed in the morning, and was soon freed from his dilemma. He remained two winters at Edinburgh, and then drew on his uncle Contarine for funds to enable him to travel for the purpose of finishing his medical studies. After various adventures (including imprisonment on suspicion of being in the French service) he arrived at Leyden, where he studied one year, and then set out on foot for Paris, and in fine, travelled so through the greater part of France and Italy. His mode of life was doubtless that depicted in the "philosophic vagabond," in the Vicar of Wakefield. He reached Dover in 1756, penniless. His uncle could no more assist him, for he was dead. The stage seemed the only resource open to him, and he turned strolling player. For an amusing account of this portion of his career, the reader is referred to the best life of Goldsmith-his works.

After some time thus spent he came to London, and supported himself as usher in a school, and afterwards as physician to the poor; and at length we find his talents asserting themselves in the humble capacity of corrector of the press to Richardson, the novelist and bookseller! The proprietor of the Monthly Review next engaged him, and he took up his abode with "illiterate Griffiths," as his friends very naturally loved to call him, but finding neither the society nor the work pleasant, and the remuneration by no means compensating for the tedium, he relinquished the engagement after about five months.

His old friend Dr. Milner, master of the school where he had been usher, now managed to have him appointed physician to one of the Coromandel factories, a poor post of only £100 a year, but

with great advantages in the shape of additional practice. In order to defray the necessary expenses of equipment, he wrote the Inquiry into the Present State of Polite Learning in Europe, and published it by subscription. For once the funds were applied to their proper purpose, which was no sooner done, than, for some reason never explained, the appointment was set aside, at some considerable loss to Goldsmith and disgust to his friends.

His next engagement was on the Literary Magazine, and other periodicals, including his own publication The Bee, and the worldfamous Chinese letters, the Citizen of the World. These enabled him to quit the melancholy Green Arbour Court where he had been living, and take more commodious rooms in Wine Office Court. Shortly afterwards he removed to Garden Court, Temple.

Although not properly appreciated by the public, it is evident that Goldsmith was more thought of by literary men. He had now gained the friendship of Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the toleration, possibly envy, of Boswell. The Literary Club, established about this time, made him acquainted with Bennet Langton, Topham Beauclerc, and Edmund Burke, with whom he had been at college. The rest of the members thought and knew but little about him until the appearance of his beautiful poem The Traveller, in 1764. This entirely altered the opinion of him, and when shortly afterwards the Vicar of Wakefield was produced (it having been sold to a bookseller two years before, to relieve the author's distress) the previous state of things was quite changed, and Goldsmith's genius was acknowledged by all the club, with the exception of Boswell, who never admitted the presence of any luminary but Johnson. This favourable impression was not removed by the doubtful success of his comedy of The Good Natured Man which was performed at Covent Garden in 1768. Although it had no great run he managed to clear about £500 by it, which enabled him to move to Brick Court, No. 2, where, in most luxurious apartments, entertained constant parties of friends, to the great annoyance of stone, who was diligently preparing his Commentaries in the

rooms beneath. These dissipations were expensive, and the success of his History of Rome soon afterwards was of great importance.

All this time, however, he was not idle. He was slowly proceeding with his History of the Earth and Animated Nature, and in May, 1770, The Deserted Village appeared. Five editions were exhausted in three months, and with the proceeds of them he started for Paris, in company with a delightful party of friends, the Hornecks, to one of whom he had been long attached, though unavowedly. On his return he published biographies of Bolingbroke and Parnell, and an abridgement of the Roman history.

The History of England next appeared, and though decidedly successful, occasioned a great deal of discussion and ill will. Goldsmith, however, in a letter to Bennet Langton, apologising for not visiting him, owing to press of business, declared that his aim was "to make up a book of a decent size, that, as 'Squire Richard says, "would do no harm to nobody."

Press of business did not prevent him from paying a visit to the country house of Mr. Bunbury, who had married the sister of his favourite Miss Horneck, "the Jessamy Bride," as he used to call her. She was there too, which perhaps accounts for this singular pliability of circumstances. We have amusing accounts from various members of the family, of Goldsmith romping with the children, and of the good-nature with which he bore the coarse practical jokes of impertinent people who did not understand his fine nature.

Goldsmith's position was now well established, but his natural inactivity and love of pleasure prevented him from ever being free of his literary engagements. He had received a large sum of money for the Natural History, and but little of it was written. To escape from the dissipations of town, he took lodgings near Edgeware; Boswell visited him there, and found the walls covered with pencil descriptions of animals. Washington Irving gives the following

records preserved of him.