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that Johnson, who had contributed a few lines, a familiar nod, he pledged the poet in the hearing was the author of the whole. Accordingly, Mr. of the whole company, “Come, Noll, here's my Chamier, one of the members, on the first occa- service to you, my old boy.” We quote the sequel sion that presented itself, undertook to sound the of the story from Washington Irving.
" Glover author on the subject. He boldly commenced whispered to Goldsmith that he should not allow with the question, ** Mr. Goldsmith, what do you such liberties. •Let him alone,' was the reply, mean by the last word in the first line of your you 'll see how civilly I'll let him down.' After · Traveller'
a time he called out, • Mr. B., I have the honor of Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slou
drinking your good health. Alas! dignity was
not poor Goldsmith's forte ; he could keep no one Do you mean tardiness of locomotion ?" Johnson at a distance. “Thank’ee, thank’ee, Noll,' nodded was there, watching his flurried friend, and thus the pig-butcher, scarce taking the pipe out of his reports his reply. 'Goldsmith,” he says,
“ who mouth. “I don't see the effect of your reproof,' would say something without consideration, an- whispered Glover. 'I give it up,' replied Goldswered “Yes.' I was sitting by, and said, smith, with a good-humored shrug ; 'I ought to · No, sir, you did not mean tardiness of locomo- have known before now there is no putting a pig Lion ; you mean that sluggishness of mind which in the right way.' comes upon
man in solitude,'--'Ah!' ex Already distinguished as a novelist and poet, claimed Goldsmith, that was what I meant.' Goldsmith's next triumph was in the drama. After Chamier,” continues Johnson, “ believed then I having been subjected to many vexatious delays, had written the line, as much as if he had scen his comedy of the “Good-natured Man” at length me write it."
made its appearance; and though but partially No doubt—and yet how natural was the thought-successful on its first representation, it justified the less, off-hand reply from the lips of the inconsid- expectations of his friends, and has since kept pos. erate Hibernian. “No man,” truly remarked the session of the stage. But the author (who had great lexicographer, on another occasion, “ is more gone to the theatre in a new suit of clothes, manufoolish than Goldsmith when he has not a pen in factured for the occasion, value, 81. 2s. 7d.) was his hand, or more wise when he has."
mortified and disappointed. Concealing his chaIt was Goldsmith's fortune to achieve success grin, he went to the Literary Club, and chatted to late in life. He was nearly forty when the publi- some of its members; but he afterwards confessed cation of the “ Traveller” raised him to distinction that when all were gone, except Johnson, he burst in the world of letters. “ Beginning," observes out a-crying, and protested he would never write Mr. Forster, “ with not even the choice which again. It is characteristic of Goldsmith that he Fielding admits was his, of hackney writer or afterwards, in his guileless simplicity of heart, hackney coachman, he has fought his way at last told this story to a large company at dinner, when to consideration and esteem. But he bears upon Johnson was present, who cried out in astonishhim the scars of his twelve years' conflict; of the ment, “ I thought all this had been a secret be mean sorrows through which he has passed, and tween you and me, and I am sure I would not have of the cheap indulgences he has sought relief and said anything about it for the world.”—“ It is sin help from.” Again :-" His reputation had been gular, however," observes Washington Irving silently widening, in the midst and in despite of “that Goldsmith, who thus in conversation could his humble drudgery ; his poem, his novel, his keep nothing to himself, should be the author of a essays, had imperceptibly enlarged the circle of maxim which would inculcate the most thorough his admirers; and he was somewhat suddenly sub-dissimulation. • Men of the world,' says he, in jected to the social exactions that are levied on one of the papers of the Bee, 'maintain that the literary fame." As we come to the last period of true end of speech is not so much to express our Goldsmith's life it is necessary to bear all this in wants as to conceal them. How often is this mind, because it accounts for most of the foibles, quoted as one of the subtle remarks of the finefollies, and indiscretions that have been laid to his witted Talleyrand!” charge. In his days of penury he had not been “ The Good-natured Man," however, had a tolvery scrupulous about his acquaintances. As his erable run, and produced its author no less a sum fortunes improved he continued easily accessible, than 4001. He now felt disposed to launch out fond of conviviality, and careless of the world's into a more luxurious style of living, and he acopinion. As soon as he obtained a footing in cordingly invested his money in the purchase of polite society he did not discard his old associates, the lease of a set of chambers on the second floor or forsake his former haunts. His delight was in in No. 2, Brick Court, Middle Temple. This was free-and-easy clubs; particularly in a certain club his last residence-the last of the local habitations meeting on Wednesday evenings at the Globe Tav- which his genius has hallowed to all posterity. ern in Fleet street. A countryman named Glover Sir William Blackstone, the author of the Comance accompanied him to this congenial resort, and mentaries, had chambers immediately under him, was shocked to hear the familiar tone in which and it is said, often complained of the rackets and Guldsmith was addressed by some of the humbler revels overhead. Although, like Johnson, fond members. A wealthy pig-butcher, especially, was of town life, Goldsmith appears to have had a true singularly free and easy. Raising his glass, with taste and relish for country scenery.
sionally took strolls in the neighborhood of Lon-| Goldsmith, whilst sight-seeing in the French me don, (which he called making “a shoemaker's tropolis, will provoke a smile, especially if we holiday ;'') and when hardly pressed by the book- consider that the Jessamy Bride was probably sellers, he would take a quiet cottage a few miles present and beheld his discomfiture. Being with from town, for the purpose of uninterrupted labor. a party at Versailles, viewing the water-works, a It was thus that the “ Deserted Village" was question arose among the gentlemen present,whether written. Strolling among the green lanes and the distance from whence they stood to one of the hedgerow's in the environs of London, he relieved little islands, was within the compass of a leap. his “prosaic toils” by the composition of this Goldsmith maintained the affirmative ; but, being charming poem. When we recollect the circum- bantered on the subject, and remembering his forstances under which it was penned, we need not ! mer powers as a youth, attempted the leap, but, wonder at the melancholy tone that pervades it. falling short, descended into the water, to the great It was written under the influence of a sacred sor- amusement of the company.” With the Horneck row ; in those moods of melancholy which called he must have spent many delightful days. He was forth all the poet's tenderness, and imparted a a frequent guest at their country seat at Barton, in more than wonted softness to the delineations of Suffolk ; they appreciated his character, and he his pen. His brother Henry, the supposed origi- was ever ready to add to their fund of harmless nal of the village preacher, was just dead. If his amusement.
may form some idea of the playpoetical portrait be correct, he was a genuine ful badinage and humorous sallies that enlivened Goldsmith-a true scion of that gentle and gener- this intercourse by perusing the following lines
which occur, among others, in a humorous letter Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
indited by the poet to Little Comedy, (then become And e'en luis failings leaned to virtue's side :
Mrs. Bunbury.) The ladies, it appears, would But in his duty proinpt at every call,
often invite him to play at loo, the fashionable He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all; game of the day, and, affecting to be his advisers, And, as a bird each fond endearment tries
get him into all sorts of difficulties :To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Now, ladies, I ask, if law-matters you 're skilled in, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Whether crimes such as yours should not come
before Fielding; While the memory of such a brother was yet For giving advice that is not worth a straw, fresh in his heart, and his grief was green, it no May well be called picking of pockets in law; doubt occurred to Goldsmith to hand down his And picking of pockets, with which I now charge ye, blameless career to posterity, as a graceful tribute Is, by quinto Elizabeth, death without clergy. of fraternal affection. And we further agree with What justice, when both to the Old Bailey brought!
By the gods, I'll enjoy it, though 't is but is Washington Irving, “ that the whole character
thought! seems traced, as it were, in an expiatory spirit; Both are placed at the bar, with all proper decorum, as if, conscious of his own wandering restlessness, With bunches of fennel and nosegays before 'em ; he sought to humble himself at the shrine of excel- Both cover their faces with mobs and all that, lence which he had not been able to practise." But the judge bids them angrily take off their hat.
About this time an interesting episode enlivened When uncovered, a buzz of enquiry runs round, Goldsmith's literary life. At the house of Sir “ Pray what are their crimes ?"_" They 've been Joshua Reynolds he made the acquaintance of a
“ But pray who've they pilfered ?"-"A doctor, I Mrs. Horneck—a widow lady, with a son in the
hear."Guards, and two beautiful, amiable, and accom- “What, yon solemn-faced, odd-looking man that plished daughters. The whole family took a de- stands ncar ?''cided fancy to the whimsical poet, and he in return “ The same.”—“ What a pity, how does it surwas not insensible to the charms of the daughters. Trco handsomer culprits I never set eyes on.”
prise one! The elder of these young ladies was known among Then their friends all come round me with cring her friends by the name of Little Comedy, and the
ing and leering, younger (whose heart by the way was still unen- To melt me to pity, and soften my swearing. gaged) had received the sobriquet of the Jessamy First, Sir Charles advances, with phrases well Bride. It has been hinted that the poor author, to strung, whom nature had denied the fascinations of person
“ Consider, dear doctor, the girls are but young.”— which are said to form the principal recommenda
“ The younger the worse," I return him again; tion to the favor of the fair sex, was surprised into
" It shows that their habits are all dyed in an attachment to the Jessamy Bride, which, though “ But ihen they 're so handsome, one's bosom i
grain.”— commenced in sportive familiarity, at length as
grieves. sumed a serious aspect. It is certain that his inti- “ What signifies handsome, when people are macy with the Hornecks had an effect upon his thieves?''tailor's bills, and that, to render his awkward fig- “ But where is your justice ? their cases ure more attractive, he arrayed it in the costliest
hard.':. raiments of the day. In the summer of 1770, he “What significs justice? I want the reward.” made an excursion with his new friends to Paris. This was society for which Goldsmith was The following anecdote, which has been related of adapted, and in which he felt himself at home.
He had no taste for stately grandeur ; nor did he cumstances had prevented its appearance. Johaparticularly distinguish himself in highly intel- son, Burke, and Reynolds, and a host of Goldlectual circles. Above all things he loathed the smith's distinguished friends were present, and pompous Pecksniffs of the world, who, by dint of joined in the hearty laugh which was kept up assurance and assumption, sometimes succeed in throughout the performance. Johnson's criticism raising a commanding reputation. In the “ Citizen on this brilliant production will be long rememof the World” he has given us a graphic picture bered for its truth, as well as for its kindness of a great man," from the mouth of his Chinese to the sensitive author ; “I know of no comedy philosopher, which is worth quoting :-"I was for many years,” he said, “ that has so much exyesterday invited by a gentleman 10 dinner, hilarated an audience ; that has answered so much whu promised that our entertainment should con- the great end of comedy-making an audience sist of a haunch of venison, a turtle, and a great merry.'
I came, according to appointment. The In the commencement of the year 1774, Goldvenison was fine, the turtle good, but the great smith was surrounded by an accumulation of man insupportable. The moment I ventured to work, that would have tasked the energies of the speak I was at once contradicted with a snap. I strongest mind. He was behindhand with the attempted, by a second and third assault, to re- booksellers, and deeply in debt. His constitution trieve my lost reputation, but was still beat back was undermined partly by lown dissipation, with consusion. I was resolved to attack him once partly, perhaps, by early privations. He was more from entrenchment, and turned the conver- over-worked and ill at ease ; but he would not sation on the government of China ; but even here give way. He rallied himself as well as he he asserted, snapped, and contradicted as before. could, and gave some entertainments in his chamHeavens ! thought I, this man pretends to know bers to Johnson and other friends. At length, on China even better than myself. I looked round the 25th of March, he was taken ill. With charto see who was on my side ; but every eye was acteristic imprudence, he persisted in dosing himfixed in admiration on the great man; I there- self with James' powders, (a medicine he had fore, at last, thought proper to sit silent, and act been in the habit of taking,) notwithstanding the the pretty gentleman during the ensuing conver- expostulations of his medical attendants. lla sation."
continued to grow weaker, and about half-past To all his literary friends Goldsmith's blonder- four on Monday morning, the 4th of April, 1774, ing simplicity was a source of infinite amusement. he expired, in the forty-sixth year of his age. His want of tact was everywhere apparent. He One affecting incident remains to be narrated. would tell stories in the wrong place, and retail" There was one mourner," writes Washington jokes of which he had forgotten the point. We Irving," whose enthusiasm for his memory, could find one or two amusing instances in Mr. Irving's it have been foreseen, might have soothed the bitbiography. “ Beauclerc was extremely apt to terness of death. After the coffin had been circulate stories at his expense, founded perhaps screwed down, a lock of his hair was requested 00 some trivial incident, but dressed up with the for a lady, a particular friend, who wished to embellishments of his sarcastic brain. One re- preserve it as a remembrance. It was the beautilates to a venerable dish of peas, served up at Sirful Mary Horneck, the Jessamy Bride. The colJoshua's table, which should have been green, fin was opened again, and a lock of hair cut off but were any other color. A wag suggested to which she cherished to her dying day. The lady,” Goldsmith, in a whisper, that they should be sent continues the biographer, “survived as most to the to Hammersmith, as that was the way to turn- present day. Hazlitt met her at Northcote's 'em-green (Turnham Green). Goldsınithi, delighted painting room, about twenty years since, as Mrs. with the pun, endeavored to repeat it at Burke's Gwyn, the widow of a General Gwyn of the table, but missed the point. That is the way army. She was at that time upwards of seventy to make 'em green,' said he. Nobody laughed. years of age. Still, he said, she was beautiful, He perceived he was at fault. 'I mean that is beautiful even in years. After she was gone, the road to turn 'em green. A dead pause, and Hazlitt remarked how handsome she still was. a stare ; whereupon, adds Beauclerc, ' he started I do not know,' said Northcote, “why she is so op disconcerted, and abruptly left the table.' * * kind as to come to see me, except that I am On another occasion, the poet and Beauclerc were the last link in the chain that connects her with seated, at the theatre, next to Lord Shelburne, the all those she most esteemed when young-Johnminister, whom political writers thought fit 10 son, Reynolds, Goldsmith-and remind her of nick-name Malagrida. • Do you know,' said the most delightful period of her life.?”
Mrs. Goldsmith, to his lordship, in the course of con- Gwyn, so well known as Mary Horneck, and the versation, that I never could conceive why they Jessamy Bride, died in 1840. call you Malagrida, for Malagrida was a very good Having accompanied the biographers of Goldbort of man.'
smith through the principal scenes of his cheqIn 1773, the comedy of She stoops to Conquer ; ' uered life, we may, perhaps, be allowed a conor, the Mistakes of a Night, was produced with cluding remark. There are few writers, it will triumphant success. It must have been written be admitted, who have achieved a wider popularDearly two years before, but many perplexing cir- ity, or who have exercised and maintained a more
general and permanent influence on the English | What has thy spirit bowed intellectual character than the author of the In this thy winter?—what majestic cloud ? “ Deserted Village.” At every stage of life he Vision which hides thy proud heart's dearest is a friend and monitor. If, as his biographers which makes reality unearthly seem,
dream, have suggested, he was the author of " Goody And the true efforts of thy life dost shroud. Two Shoes,” and other nursery rhymes published Thus fall the flowers that bloomed so fresh and fair, by his frequent employer, Mr. Francis Newbury All perishing in air. --and there is nothing unreasonable in the sup. Ah, the sad verity position that these drolleries, slight and trivial That overcomes men's minds, and wills to be as they may appear, were really written by wise The shadow o'er their paths of love and life, and thoughtful men—his sportive productions The slayer of the fame whose ways are strife, amuse our earliest infancy. His histories of Eng- Where legions run the race in company. land, Greece, and Rome, still form the basis of O, certain light of truth, thy rays dispel the historical knowledge communicated in hun-j Hopes erst invincible! dreds of our schools ; and if these histories are Thus fled the mystic faith not remarkable for any deep research, their clear That is art's incense and its vital breath ; and lucid style admirably adapts them for the pur- | Thus died La Francia as some star outshone, poses of instruction. His selected essays, the Over whose sphere a brighter light had grown, “ Vicar of Wakefield,” and the “ Citizen of the And in the full eclipse had welcomed death, World,” are among the first volumes of English Dimmed by the lustre of another's sheen, classics which, in youth and early manhood, are
And fading all unseen. commended to our attention, and they never fail Yet is it well to die? to leave a permanent impression on the mind. In To let life's purpose yield the victory; inaturer years they are recurred to with pleasure, To die, and leave each passionate desire, and maxims and observations in daily use are taken As some new tones half trembling on the lyre, from them. And when the meridian of life is Or bud that folds its cup all silently; passed, when the poetry of passion has lost its Or wonder for an hour.
To die, and pass away like some frail flower charm, and the mind is more lily attracted by sedate images and tranquil beauty, the “ Deserted Faint not upon your way, Village," and the “ Traveller," are welcomed as You who would hold o'er human hearts time's sway; favored friends, and referred to as models of all Is it not meet that those who yearn 10 wear that is pure, correct, and good. To every stage The cares and turmoils of life's working day,
Fame's immortality, should fairly bear and condition of life we maintain that Goldsmith That thus when night proclaims her sable reign, has been a liberal benefactor. But, above all, Their wishes prove not vain ? he has left us the example of a life which, though defaced and deformed by many errors, was redeemed by so many virtues that we should be jus
Negro-English Biele.-A paper published in tified in rejoicing that he had lived even if he had the Christian Examiner gives ihe following stato not written a line.
ment respecting this translation of the Bible. The version of the New Testament, printed by the Brit ish and Foreign Bible Society for the English ne
groes of Surinam, is a curiosity in its way. These THE DEATH OF FRANCIA.
negroes have no distinct language, but speak a
strange lingo compounded of African words, or When Raffaelle sent his famous St. Cecilia to Bologna, clipped and softened English words, and of vio it was entrusted to the care of La Francia, who was his lently treated Portuguese words.
The society particular friend, to be unpacked and hung up: La brought upon itself smart censures and much ride Francia was old, and had for many years held a high rank cule for the seemingly irreverent and Judicrous in his profession ; no sooner had he cast his eyes on the character of the volume they had published. The St. Cecilia, than, struck with despair at seeing his highest whole edition, save a few copies, was sent to Suriefforts so immeasurably outdone, he was seized with a deep melancholy, and died shortly after.- Diary of an
These copies are becoming searc., and as Ennuyée.
the sale of the Duke of Sussex's Library, one
brought 31. 10s., though its original cost could not As the long shadow falls
have exceeded two or three shillings. The annexed At fading eve, when some soft note recalls The old home voices happy childhood heard,
extracts, literally translated, will give a specimen as
little offensive as any that can be found in the book. Upon a heart that fame's high impulse stirred,
The word virgin is rendered wan njo ewenjo, i. e., The presence of the beautiful appalls, And casts all old day-dreams to Lethe's brim,
one new wench.
The following verses are from Matthew v. :As fancies vague and dim.
“1. But when Jesus see the people, he go after 0, weary heart of thine,
one mountain top, he go sit down, then disciple for lligh genius! wherefore shouldst thou grieve, yet him come close by after him. pine,
2. And he opened him mouth and learned them The laurel crown and votive wreath to wear! and talk. Why falter in your path, and fear to share
Good is them, these the pretty in heart, because One guerdon of the soul-fed art divine?
God's country is for them. It is not thus that man's declared intent
3. Good is it for them, these the sorry in heart, Should lapse in banishment.
because heart for them so cheery."
BY W. BRAILSFORD.
From Chambors' Journal.
strength is failing, that we are utterly destitute. THE TWO EMPRESSES AND THE ARTIST.
But the empress has not deigned to answer."
“ You will have an answer, rest assured. It was the middle of the year 1812, that year | Perhaps the inemorial has not been yet placed the latter months of which witnessed the annihila- before her majesty. Give me your address, I beg tion of the French army on the plains of Russia. of you.” And after taking a memorandum of it, Such a catastrophe was far from the thoughts of a nd slipping into her hand all the money he had single inhabitant of Paris, when, one morning in about him, Redouté was soon rapidly making his the month of June, the celebrated artist Redouté way to the Place de la Concorde, where, just as was on his way to Malmaison to present to the he was stepping into a carriage, he discovered Empress Josephine some paintings of lilies. He that his purse was empty. was a great favorite with her, from his having “It is of no consequence,” he said; “I have devoted his pencil to flowers, of which she was only to walk a liule fast.” passionately fond. In full enjoyment of the lovely Josephine, meanwhile, had been eagerly expectmorning, he was gayly crossing the garden of the ing the promised visit of the usually punctual Tuileries to get to the Place de la Concorde, where artist, and was beginning to seel uneasy lest some he intended taking a coach, when he saw a crowd accident had occurred to occasion the prolonged eagerly hurrying in the direction of the walk by delay, when he was announced. the water-side. The general cry, “ The King of I ought to scold you,” she said, as she reRome !--the empress !” soon told him the object ceived with her wonted gentle grace the artist's of attraction ; and the artist quickened his steps, offering, “ for delaying the pleasure I feel in seeglad of the opportunity, thus by chance afforded ing this admirable drawing." him, of seeing the son of the emperor, the yet “I must throw myself upon your majesty's oradled child of fifteen months, whom so proud a goodness 10 excuse me," answered Redouté rather destiny seemed to await.
inconsiderately. “ I had never seen the King of It was indeed the King of Rome, in a little car- Rome, and to-day I have been fortunate enough to riage drawn by four snow-white goats, and the catch a glimpse of him." Josephine started, and Empress Maria-Louisa walking by its side. She Redouté, instantly aware of the awkwardness of was wrapped in a blue shawl, of a peculiar shade, mentioning the meeting, stopped suddenly in conknown to be her favorite color. The crowd fusion. had gathered outside the grating, around which “I am very glad,” said Josephine, making a they pressed closely; and as Redouté stopped to strong effort to repress her emotion, " that you gaze with the rest, he saw standing near him a have seen the son of the emperor. Pray tell me young woman with a child in her arms. The where you saw him, and who was with him?" garb of both bespoke extreme poverty ; but the Redouté hesitated. child's face was glowing with health, whilst the " Pray, pray go on,'
” said she gently, but cheeks of the mother were pale and emaciated, and earnestly. He obeyed; and told her every parfrom her sunken eyes fell tears, which she cared ticular he had observed, as well as what had de pot either to wipe away or conceal.
layed his arrival by obliging him to walk to Mal"My poor little one!--my darling!” she whis- maison. pered as she pressed the child still closer to her “I see the great artist, as always happens, has bosom, "you have no carriage, my angel; no a feeling heart,” said Josephine, her sympathy playthings—no toys of any kind. For him abun- aroused for the poor woman. “If Napoleon did dance, pleasure, every joy of his age; for thee, but know the destitution of this child, born the desolation, suffering, poverty, hunger! What is same day, the same hour with his son ! Be with he that he should be happier than you, darling? me 10-morrow morning at nine o'clock ; we will Both of you born the same day, the same hour! together visit this poor creature.” And the next I, as young as his mother, and loving you as fondly morning at nine o'clock Redouté was at Malmaias she loves him. But you have now no father, son ; and an hour after, Josephine, undeterred by my poor babe ; you have no father!"
the dark, narrow, muddy passage, and the equally The artist overheard these words of woe, and dark, damp stairs, increasing in steepness every stood with his eyes fixed upon the poor young step, had entered the wretched apartment, utterly mother, in utter forgetfulness of the King of Rome. bare of furniture, in the fifth story, inhabited by
Madame,” said he, after a moment's hesitation, the widow of Charles Blanger. and in a low voice, " why do you not make known “Madame,” said Redouté, to whom Josephine your situation to the empress ?”
had made signs to introduce her and the object of “ To what purpose, sir?" cried the young wo- their visit, you may rest assured that if the man somewhat bitterly. "Small compassion have emperor knew your situation, he would give you the great ones of this world."
relief; but there is now no necessity to trouble " But why not make the attempt ?"
him. This lady, whom I have the honor to ac“I have done so, sir, already. I wrote to the company, is good enough to say she will take you empress, and told her that my son was born the under her protection, and her protection is allsame day, the same hour, with the King of Rome. sufficient." I told her, alas ! that he has no father, that my "What a lovely boy !" cried Josephine, as the