not think proper to mention the circumstance, if he did not consider it as the highest proof of the splendor of Dr. Goldsmith's genius and talents, that by the bare exertion of their powers, under every disadvantage of person and fortune, he could gradually emerge from such obscurity to the enjoyments of all the comforts and even luxuries of life, and admission into the best societies in London."

Anecdotes abound showing Goldsmith's delight in fine clothes, his harmless vanity, his naïve credulity, his acute sensitiveness, and while they all laughed at him, his friends nevertheless cherished a tender affection for him. A glance at the more remarkable names among them presents us with a formidable list celebrated in all walks in lifeJohnson, Reynolds, Young, Richardson, Smollet, Foote, Wharton, Chesterfield, Akenside, Garrick, Armstrong, Glover, Warburton, Dyer, Shenstone, Gray, Horace Walpole, Mason, Colley Cibber, Whitehead, Coleman, Burke, Percy, and many others, all appear in his company at the Clubs and other places of entertainment. Goldsmith himself gives us the following naïve account of a visit to the Duke of Northumberland: "I was invited, by my friend, Mr. Percy, to wait upon the Duke, in consequence of the satisfaction he had received from the perusal of one of my productions. I dressed myself in the best manner I could, and after

studying some compliments I thought necessary on such an occasion, proceeded to Northumberland house, and acquainted the servants that I had particular business with his Grace. They showed me into an antechamber, where, after waiting some time, a gentleman, very elegantly dressed, made his appearance. Taking him for the Duke, I delivered all the fine things I had composed, in order to compliment him on the honor he had done me, when to my great astonishment, he told me I had mistaken him for his master, who would see me immediately. At that instant the Duke came into the apartment, and I was so confused on the occasion, that I wanted words barely sufficient to express the sense I entertained of the Duke's politeness, and went away exceedingly chagrined at the blunder I had committed."

On another occasion, at Brighton, Goldsmith by mistake ushered himself into the presence of the Duke in a far more unceremonious manner. Dr. Percy, on the authority of the Duchess, recounts that "on one of the parades at Bath, the Duke of Northumberland and Lord Nugent had hired two adjacent houses. Dr. Goldsmith, who was then resident on a visit to the latter, one morning walked up into the Duke's dining-room, as he and the Duchess were preparing to sit down to breakfast. In a manner the most free and easy he threw himself

on a sofa; and as he was then perfectly known to them both, they inquired of him the Bath news of the day, and imagining there was some mistake, endeavored by easy and cheerful conversation to prevent his being too much embarrassed, till, breakfast being served up, they invited him to stay and partake of it. Then he awoke from his reverie, declared he thought he had been in the house of his friend, Lord Nugent, and, with a confusion which may be imagined, hastily withdrew; but not till they had kindly made him promise to dine with them."

After the publication of the "Traveler" and the consequent greater demand for his other writings, Goldsmith removed into better quarters than he had previously been able to occupy. Here he even indulged, it is said, in the luxury of a man-servant. His greatest pleasure was to lavishly entertain his crowds of friends. When the stress of necessary work was upon him, he often went out into the country where he could, untempted by congenial society, devote himself entirely to his books. That he was an entertaining companion there can be no doubt, in spite of the constant allusions to his hesitating manner of speech, which gave rise to Garrick's somewhat malicious lines

'Here lies Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness called Noll, Who wrote like an angel, but talked like poor Poll,"

the apparent slowness of his thoughts, and the extraordinary naïveté which led him to talk of his most intimate concerns on all occasions.

The well-known devotion of his friends, the Hornecks, testifies to the fact that he could take his place as a serious friend with people who could afford to pick and choose their friends amongst the best society that London had to offer. That he ever entertained serious hopes with regard to the "Yessamy Bride," as he so charmingly entitled Miss Mary Horneck, is mere matter of conjecture, but that he was regarded by her and her mother and sister with unusual respect and affection there can be no doubt.

We cannot follow Goldsmith from year to year as he entertained his friends, traveling now to Paris with the Hornecks, strolling round the London streets, visiting the Abbey with the great Dr. Johnson, or driving into the country with some other notable companion. The anecdotes abound of the witty sayings and doings on these and other occasions, until one almost feels as if light-hearted wit and fun had disappeared from off the face of the earth and were only to be found in books.

But successful as Goldsmith had become from a literary point of view, and large as had been the remuneration he received from his later work, especially his plays (between three and four thousand pounds during the last six years), he died some two

thousand pounds in debt. When the end came in his forty-sixth year, it was undoubtedly hastened by his own imprudence, but also, as Dr. Johnson sadly remarks, "He died of a fever, made, I am afraid, more violent by uneasiness of mind." "The announcement of his death came like a shock upon his friends. Burke burst into tears; Sir Joshua laid aside his pencil for the day; and a deeper gloom settled upon Johnson. Other and humbler mourners, to whom he had been kind, sincere in their sorrow, filled the little staircase at Brick Court; and as he lay in his coffin, a lock of his hair was cut off from his head for the 'Yessamy Bride' and her sister," which, Mr. Austin Dobson adds in a note, "is still in the possession of their descendants."

There is an interesting old book in the British Museum entitled "The Life of Dr. Oliver Goldsmith; written from Personal Knowledge, authentic Papers, and other indubitable Authorities. To which are added, such select observations, from various parts of this Writer's Works, as may tend to re-create the Fancy, improve the Understanding, and amend the Heart.

Sweet Poet of Nature, dear Goldsmith, adieu !

As I witness'd thy worth, to thy fame I'll be true :
The tear of soft feeling most surely will start,

He must reach the warm bosom who writes to the heart.
But why should I check of sensation the tear,

The Muses already have wept on thy bier.