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that of the robbery, is said to be borrowed from Albamazzar.

Mr. Colman, who was then a manager of the theatre, had very little opinion of this piece, and made so keen a remark on it, while in rehearsal, that the Doctor never forgave him for it. The piece, however, succeeded contrary to Mr. Colman's expectations, being received with uncommon applause by the audience.

The last theatrical piece the Doctor produced, was The Grumbler, a Farce, altered from Sedley. It was acted at Covent-Garden, in 1773, for the benefit of Mr. Quick, but it was acted only one night, and was never printed.

The Doctor might, with a little attention to prudence and economy, have placed himself in a state above want and dependence. He is said to have acquired, in one year, one tliousand eight hundred pounds; and the advantages arising from his writings were very considerable for many years before his death. But these were rendered useless by an im. provident liberality, which prevented his distinguishing properly the objects of his generosity; and an unhappy attachment to gaming, with the arts of which he was very little acquainted. He therefore remained at times as much embarrassed in his circumstances, as when his income was in its lowest and most precarious state.

He had been for some years, at different times, affected with a violent stranguary, which contributed to embitter the latter part of his life, and which, united with the vexations he suffered upon other occasions brought on a kind of habitual despondency. In this condition he was attacked by a nervous fever, which, in spite of the most able medical as. sistance, terminated in his dissolution on the 4th day of April, 1774, in the forty-fifth year of his age.

His remains were deposited in the burial-ground belonging to the Temple, and a monument hath since been erected to his memory in Westminster Abbey, at the expence of a literary club to which he

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belonged. It consists of a large medallion, exhibiting a good likeness of the Doctor, embellished with literary ornaments ; underneath which is a tablet of white marble, with the following inscription, written by his friend Dr. Samuel Johnson,

Englished.
This Monument is raised

to the Memory of

OLIVER GOLDSMITH,
Poet, Natural Philosopher, and Historian;
Who left no species of writing untouched,

or
Unadorn'd by His Pen,
Whether to move laughter,

Or draw tears :
He was a powerful master

Over the affections,
Though at the same time a gentle tyrant ;
Of a genius at once sublime, lively, and

Equal to every subject :
In expression at once noble,

Pure and delicate.

His memory will last
As long as society retains affection,

Friendship is not void of Honor,
And reading wants not her admirers.
He was born in the Kingdom of Ireland,
At Fernes, in the province

of Leinster,
Where Pallas had set her name,

29th Nov. 1731.
He was educated at Dublin,
And died in London,

4th April, 1774.

ring rith t of ten

POEMS

BY

DR. GOLDSMITH.

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TO THE REV. HENRY GOLDSMITH.

Dear Sir,

I Am sensible that the friendship between us can

acquire no new force from the ceremonies of a Dedication; and perhaps it demands an excuse thus to prefix your name to my attempts, which you de cline giving with your own. But as a part of this Poem was formerly written to you from Switzerland, the whole can now, with propriety, be only inscribed to you. It will also throw a light upon many parts of it, when the reader understands that it is addressed to a man, who, despising Fame and Fortune, has retired early to Happiness and Obscurity, with an income of forty pounds a year.

I now perceive, my dear brother, the wisdom of your humble choice. You have entered upon a sacred office, where the harvest is great, and the labourers are but few; while you have left the field of Ambition, where the labourers are many, and the harvest not worth carrying away. But of all kinds of ambition, what from the refinement of the times, from different systems of criticism, and from the divisions of party, that which pursues poetical fame is the wildest.

Poetry makes a principal amusement among un. polished nations; but in a country verging to the extremes of refinement, Painting and Music come in for a share. As these offer the feeble mind a less laborious entertainment, they at first rival Poetry, and at length supplant her; they engross all that favor once shewn to her, and though but younger sisters, seize upon the elder's birth-right.

Yet, however this art may be neglected by the

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