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The censure of absentees has a variety of invective intermixed with some humour; but the following may suffice as a specimen of the former :

"Our squires of late through Europe roam,

Are two well-bred to live at home;

Are not content with Dublin College,
But range abroad for greater knowledge;
To strut in velvets and brocades,

At balls and plays and masquerades ;

To have their rent their chiefest care is,

In bills to London and to Paris.

Their education is so nice,

They know all chances on the dice ;
Excepting when it is their fate

To throw away a good estate,

Then does the squire with empty purse
Rail at ill fortune with a curse.

These absentees we here describe

Are mostly of our Irish tribe,

Who live in luxury and pleasure,

And throw away their time and treasure;
Cause poverty and devastation,
And sink the credit of the nation.

Their mansions moulder quite away,
And run to ruin and decay,

Left like a desert wild and waste,
Without the track of man or beast;
Where wild fowl may with safety rest,
At every gate may build a nest;

Where grass or weeds on pavements grow,
And every year is fit to mow,

No smoke from chimneys does ascend,

Nor entertainment for a friend;

Nor sign of drink, or smell of meat,

For human creatures there to eat.
*

One of the greatest offences of the more opulent classes in Ireland in the eyes of the peasantry at that time, was any seeming want of the duties of hospitality; nor has the feeling, though diminished, passed away. By their interpretation, common to more rude communities, a man of rank or wealth was considered almost literally rather the steward than proprietor of his property; held in trust as much for the benefit of his relatives, neighbours, and adherents, as for his own family; and almost the first point noticed in the character of an Irish squire by a peasant of the present day is whether he is or is not a hard (or close) man. The opening scenes in the Vicar of Wakefield, and many other passages in Goldsmith, dwell upon the duties of hospitality.

CHAPTER II.

Adventure at Ardagh.-Rev. Mr. Contarine.-Entry into Trinity College, Dublin. -Letter of the Rev. Dr. Wilson, his tutor.-Ballad writing.

His school vacations were frequently spent in the town of Ballymahon, where, many years afterwards, a few of his boyish tricks were remembered.

"It is now about forty years," says the Rev. John Graham in a communication to the present writer, "since one of the directors of the sports of Ballymahon, Jack Fitzsimmons, an old man, who had experienced many vicissitudes and then kept the ball court, frequently amused us with stories of, as he termed him and as he was usually called when a boy, Noll Goldsmith. One of them, I remember, related to a depredation on the orchard of Tirlicken, adjoining the old mansion of that name now in ruins, then the property and residence of part of Lord Annaly's family. In this adventure, which he detailed minutely, both were engaged: detection, however, either at the moment or soon afterwards, ensued; and, had it not been for the respectability of Goldsmith's connexions, which secured immunity also to his companions, the consequences might have been unpleasant. This story, although it may seem like a different version of the deer-stealing of Shakspeare, I had no reason to disbelieve; the matter is common enough to most school-boys in the country; and poor Jack knew no more of the history of Shakspeare than of Homer. Several other notices of the poet from the same source have now escaped my recollection; the impression, however, remains, that he was as thoughtless as other boys of the same age, and as easily led into scrapes by his companions."

An amusing adventure, which occurred in the last journey from home to Edgeworthstown school, is believed to have given birth to the chief incident in "She Stoops to Conquer." Having set off on horseback, there being then and indeed now no regular wheeled conveyance thither from Ballymahon, he loitered on the road, amusing himself by viewing the neighbouring gentlemen's seats. A friend had furnished him with a guinea; and the desire, perhaps, of spending it in (to a school-boy) the most independent manner at an inn, tended to slacken his diligence on the road. Night overtook him in the small town of Ardagh, about half way on his journey. Inquiring for the best house in the place, meaning the best inn, he chanced to address, as is said, a person named Cornelius Kelly, who boasted of having taught fencing to the Marquis of Granby, and was then domesticated in the house of Mr. Featherstone, a gentleman of fortune in the town. He was known as a notorious wag;

and willing to play off a trick upon one whom he no doubt discovered to be a swaggering school-boy, directed him to the house of his patron.

Suspecting no deception, Oliver proceeded as directed; gave authoritative orders about the care of his horse; and, being thence conceived by the servants to be an expected guest, was ushered into the presence of their master, who immediately discovered the mistake. Being, however, a man of humour, and willing to enjoy an evening's amusement with a boy under the influence of so unusual a blunder, he encouraged it, particularly when, by the communicative disposition of the guest, it was found that he was the son of an old acquaintance on his way to school. Nothing occurred to undeceive the self-importance of the youth, fortified by the possession of a sum he did not often possess; wine was therefore ordered in addition to a good supper, and the supposed landlord, his wife and daughters were invited to partake of it. On retiring for the night, a hot cake was ordered for breakfast the following morning; nor was it until preparing to quit the house next day, that he discovered he had been entertained in a private family.

This story like the plot of his comedy, has been thought improbable; and were it told of a person in mature life, or mixing much in the world, there might be, under common circumstances, ground for disbelief. But when we consider the age of Goldsmith at the time, his openness to deception at all times, that the time was night, while positive information described the house as an inn, and that the submission of the servants and the humour of the master confirmed the original idea; moreover, when we consider that the house, however good, bore no particular mark of distinction, and that Irish landlords then, like those of America now, were inquisitive and familiar in their manners, and believed that their guests were under more obligations to them than they to their guests, it is easy to conceive how a school-boy should be led in the error. Mrs. Hodson heard the story early in life, which could scarcely have been told without some foundation; and the late Sir Thomas Featherstone, whose grandfather was the supposed landlord, remembered, when questioned, something of the anecdote.

In connexion with his play, the story illustrates another peculiarity which belongs to Goldsmith more than to any other writer of his day; this was to draw upon his own personal and family history for many of the facts and characters found in his writings. These, when minutely traced, show how largely he has written from himself, from his recollections, experience, and feelings; and to this is owing much of that truth, vigour, and freshness, of which we all feel the presence and the power. Thus, to his poems, novel, plays, Citizen of the World, and detached essays, actual life furnished most of the scenes and persons; not only his own character and adventures, but those of nearly all his relatives, were taxed for the amusement of the reader: so that when invention failed, he had only to draw upon his

From the Rev. John Graham.

memory. The recollection of this fact may serve to corroborate the truth of the preceding story having really formed the groundwork of the play.

An event now occurred, which though under other circumstances gratifying, threatened in its consequences to interfere with the design of sending him to college by still further narrowing his father's resources. This was the private marriage of his elder sister, Catherine, with Mr. Daniel Hodson, the son of a gentleman of good property, residing at St. John's near Athlone. To her the union promised to be advantageous; while to her husband, in consequence of her want of fortune, it was thought the reverse. He was besides young, though not a boy; and being at the moment, or shortly before, a pupil of her brother Henry for the completion of his studies, the match looked so much like a breach of confidence and honour on the part of the family, although unknown to its members, as to give rise to extreme indignation on the part of her father. The tradition is, that in the first transports of anger he uttered a wish that as she had acted like an undutiful child in causing suspicion to be cast on his integrity of character, she might never have one of her own to make a similar return to parental care; in short, that she might die childless. So harsh and hasty a sentence, foreign to his general character for good nature, was soon recalled; neither was the purport of the prayer strictly fulfilled, as she bore three children; but, in the superstitious feeling of the county, it was supposed to be not without a certain effect, as they all, though her son left a numerous offspring, died before her.

*

To remove all suspicion of being privy to the act of his daughter, Mr. Goldsmith, influenced by the highest sense of honour, made a sacrifice detrimental to the interests of the other members of his family. He entered into a legal engagement (Sep. 7. 1744), "to pay to Daniel Hodson, Esq., of St. John's, Roscommon, 400, as the marriage-portion of his daughter Catherine, then the wife of the said Daniel Hodson." To raise this sum, with such limited means as he possessed, was impossible; but in lieu of it, the lands rented from Mr. Newstead, then worth about 407. per annum, in addition to 12. per annum of tithes, were assigned, until the money should be paid.† These sums, which seem now apparently small, were in that period and country considerable; much more than the rector of Kilkenny West could afford. His living, though at present worth about 350. per annum, did not then amount to 2001. The sacrifice consequently was great; it evinced all the sincerity of an honest, but not the consideration of a prudent man; and though satisfactory to his pride, crippled the means of providing for the remainder of his children.

The immediate offect of this reduction of income fell more heavily

* From the information of one of her granddaughters to the Rev. Mr. Graham. + See a draft of this agreement in the registry of the Four Courts, Dublin, B. 117. p. 503. No. 81604. For assistance in the search for this and other legal documents connected with the Goldsmith family, I am indebted to Mr. Thomas Colhoun, of Dublin, whose professional knowledge made more easy what I should otherwise have found a work of time and labour.

on Oliver, who instead of entering college like his brother, a pensioner, was obliged to contemplate the more humble condition of sizer. From this, as a tacit confession of limited means, if not of poverty, his pride, it is traditionally said, revolted; in his own opinion, it occasioned many subsequent mortifications, deprived him of that consideration among his companions to which youth attaches so much value, and by the privations in consequence endured, depressed his spirit at the time, and even influenced the tenor of its future life, by rendering poverty so familiar that she was never afterwards viewed with terror. In vain it is said his father endeavoured to conquer what he considered merely juvenile pride; but a more persuasive adviser appeared in his uncle, the Rev. Thomas Contarine, who had married a sister of Mr. Goldsmith. At his house the youth had been a frequent visiter during school vacations; he had likewise contributed to the expense of his education; and having continued through life an active and steadfast friend, his kindness deserves some further notice here.

Un

He derived his origin from a member of the noble family of the Contarini of Venice, who, having entered into one of the monastic orders, was imprudent enough to form an attachment to a lady similarly situated, a noble nun; and both wanting resolution to subdue their passion, an elopement and marriage took place. able to remain in Italy from this double violation of the laws of the church, they fled to France, where his wife died of small-pox. Here he found himself pursued by ecclesiastical hostility, and for better security proceeded to England. In London his faith probably formed no introduction to favour, and Ireland was sought as a more congenial asylum. At Chester, on his way thither, he met with a young lady named Chaloner, related to Doctor Chaloner some time provost of Trinity College, Dublin, who possessing a fluent knowledge of his native language, they found pleasure in the society of each other, until the intercourse terminated in marriage. Attachment to his original faith had probably become loosened by the persecution he had experienced. Conforming, therefore, to the Protestant Church, he obtained, by the interest of his wife's connexions, ecclesiastical preferment in the diocess of Elphin; and of this couple Mr. Contarine was the grandchild.

He was born in Cheshire, sent to school at Wrexham, in the adjoining county of Denbigh; but removed to Ireland at the age of seventeen, entered Trinity College the following year (1702)* where he became distinguished for talents and diligence, as well as for the possession of those moral qualities that confer on talents their highest value. A proof of the esteem in which he was held, and of which any one might be proud, was an intimate friendship with the celebrated Bishop Berkley, then his senior in the university about a year,

• "1702 Octobris die 2o.-Tho. Contarine Sizator-Filius Austin Contarine Coloni Annum agens 18-Natus Cestuia-Educatus Wrexom in Walliæ sub Ma. Maxwell, -Tutor, Sub. Tisdall."-College Register.

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