1756.

also wrote again to his more letters were again unanswered. familiar Irish friends, but his He went among the London apothecaries, and asked them to "of more value, was unfortunately lost let him spread plaisters for "by accidental fire since her husband's “death. Upon his first going to England, them, pound in their mor"he was in such distress, that he would tars, run with their medi- Æt. 28. "gladly have become an usher to a cines: but they, too, asked him country school; but so destitute was he "of friends to recommend him, that he for a character, and he had none "could not without difficulty obtain even to give.* At last a chemist of "this low department. The master of the name of Jacob took compas"the school scrupled to employ him "without some testimonial of his past sion upon him, and the late ĈonGoldsmith referred him to his versation Sharp used to point out "tutor at college for a character; but all "this while he went under a feigned a shop at the corner of Monu"name. From this resource, therefore, ment-yard on Fish-street-hill, one would think that little in his favour shown to him in his youth as this could be ever hoped for; but he only benevolent Mr. Jacob's. Some "ushership was not his object. In this dozen years later, Goldsmith "strait, he wrote a letter to Dr. Radcliff, startled a brilliant circle at Bennet "imploring him, as he tendered the wel

"life.

66

"wanted to serve a present exigency; an

"the schoolmaster. He added that he

"fare of an old pupil, not to answer a Langton's or Reynolds's with an "letter which he would probably re- anecdote of "When I lived among "ceive, the same post with his own, from "the beggars in Axe-lane," ** "had good reasons for concealing both just as Napoleon, fifty years later, "from him and the rest of the world appalled the party of crowned and the real state of the heads at Dresden with his story "case; every circumstance of which he of "When I was lieutenant in the "promised to communicate on some fu"ture occasion. His tutor, embarrassed "regiment of La Fère." The “enough before to know what answer he experience with the beggars will "should give, resolved at last to give of course date before that social "none. And thus was poor Goldsmith

"his name,

"snatched from between the horns of

"his present dilemma, and suffered to "His threadbare coat, his uncouth "drag on a miserable life for a few pro-"figure, and Hibernian dialect, caused "bationary months." Letter from Ath-"him to meet with repeated refusals.' lone, dated November 1775. Campbell Percy Memoir, 38. "His broad Irish acgoes on to state that the promised letter "cent," says Isaac Reed, "and his unof thanks to Radcliff "contained a "couth appearance, operated against his "comical narrative of his adventures reception." "from leaving Ireland to that time; his “musical talents having procured him a "welcome reception wherever he went. "My authority says, her husband ad"mired this letter more than any part of "his works. But she would not venture "to trust her memory in detailing par"ticulars, which after all could not ap-"was well acquainted with the varied 'pear very interesting, but from his own manner of stating them." Isaac Reed quotes the passage (Life prefixed to Poems by Goldsmith and Parnell, 1795, p. XI-XII.) with belief in it,

64

แ

**George Langton told me that he “was present one day" (it could not have been George, but no doubt was Bennet) "when Goldsmith (Dr. Oliver), "in a circle of good company, began "with, "When I lived among the beggars 'in Axe Lane,'- Every one present "habits of Goldsmith's life, and with the "naïveté of his character; but this sudden "trait of simplicity could not but cause a "momentary surprise." Best's Personal and Literary Memorials, 76,

elevation of mixing and selling "talents above his condition”), drugs on Fish-street-hill. For he now "rose from the apothedoubtless the latter brought him "cary's drudge to be a physician

1756.

into the comfort and good "in a humble way," in Bankside, society on which he after- Southwark.* It was not a thrivEt. 28. wards dwelt with such ing business: poor physician to unction, in describing an elegant the poor: but it seemed a change little lodging at three shillings a for the better, and hope was week, with its lukewarm dinner strong in him. served up between two pewter An old Irish acquaintance and plates from a cook's-shop. school-fellow (Beatty) met him Thus employed among at this time in the streets.

1757.

He

the drugs, he heard one was in a suit of green and gold, Et. 29. day that Sleigh, an old miserably old and tarnished; his fellow-student of the Edinburgh shirt and neckcloth appeared to time, was lodging not far off, have been worn at least a fortand he resolved to visit him. He had to wait, of course, for his night; but he said he was practising physic, and doing very only holiday; "but notwithstand-well!** It is hard to confess "ing it was Sunday," he said failure to one's school-fellow. afterwards in relating the anec

dote, "and it is to be supposed Our next glimpse, though not "I was in my best clothes, Šleigh more satisfactory, is more pro"did not know me. Such is the fessional. The green and gold "tax the unfortunate pay to have faded quite out, into a rusty "poverty." He did not fail to full-trimmed black suit: the leave to the unfortunate the les-pockets of which, like those of sons they should be taught by it. the poets in innumerable farces, Doctor Sleigh (Foote's Doctor overflow with papers. The coat Sligo, honourably named in an is second-hand velvet, cast-off earlier page of this narrative) re- legacy of a more successful brocollected at last his friend of two ther of the craft; the cane, and years gone; and when he did so, the wig, have served more foradded Goldsmith, "I found his tunate owners; and the humble "heart as warm as ever, and he practitioner of Bankside is feel"shared his purse and friendship ing the pulse of a patient humbler "with me during his continuance than himself, whose courteous "in London."* With the help entreaties to be allowed to reof this warm heart and friendly lieve him of the hat he keeps purse, seconded also by the pressed over his heart, he more good apothecary Jacob ("who," courteously but firmly declines. says Cooke, ". saw in Goldsmith Beneath the hat is a large patch

* Cooke's Narrative. Europ. Mag.

XXIV. 91.

*Percy Memoir, 38. ** Prior, 1. 215.

conceals.

in the rusty velvet, which he thus ture once more. He begins a tragedy. With what modest exBut he cannot conceal the star-pectation, with what cheerful, vation which is again impend- simple hearted deference ing. Even the poor printer's to critical objection, anworkman he attends, can see how other of his Edinburgh fel- Et. 29. hardly in that respect it goes low-students, Doctor Farr, will with him; and finds courage one relate to us.

1757

day to suggest that his master "From the time of Goldsmith's leaving

in Garrick's farce of Lethe. After we had

has been kind to clever men be- Edinburgh, in the year 1754, I never saw fore now, has visited Mr. John-him till 1756, when I was in London, atson in sponging-houses, and tending the hospitals and lectures; early in January" [1756 is an evident mistake might be serviceable to a poor for 1757] "he called upon me one mornphysician. For his master is no ing before I was up, and on my entering less than Mr. Samuel Richardson, the room I recognised my old acquaintance, dressed in a rusty full-trimmed of Salisbury-court and Parson's-black suit, with his pockets full of papers, green, printer, and author of which instantly reminded me of the poet Clarissa. The hint is successful; finished our breakfast, he drew from his and Goldsmith, appointed reader pocket a part of a tragedy; which he said and corrector to the press in he had brought for my correction; in Salisbury-court,-admitted now vain I pleaded inability when he began to read, and every part on which I exand then even to the parlour of pressed a doubt as to the propriety was Richardson himself, and there immediately blotted out. I then more grimly smiled upon by its chief earnestly pressed him not to trust to my judgment, but to the opinion of persons literary ornament, great poet of better qualified to decide on dramatic the day, the author of the Night compositions, on which he told me he Thoughts, **-sees hope in litera- had submitted his production, so far as he had written, to Mr. Richardson, the author of Clarissa, on which I peremptorily declined offering another criticism on the performance. The name and subject of the tragedy have unfortunately escaped my memory, neither do I recollect with exactness how much he had written, though I am inclined to believe that he had not completed the third act; I never heard whether he afterwards finished it. In this visit I remember his relating a **Not that Young's smiles were al-strange Quixotic scheme he had in conways "grim." He is said to have been templation of going to decipher the invery pleasant in conversation; and I am scriptions on the written mountains,* glad to remember that his parish was in- 66

Boswell's enumeration of the employments of his adversity is strictly correct, as far as it goes. "As I once ob"served to Dr. Johnson, he disputed his passage through Europe. He then came "to England, and was employed succes"sively in the capacities of usher to an "academy, a corrector of the press, a "reviewer, and a writer for a newspaper." Life, II. 189.

debted to the good-humour of the poet some way or other. Now, mutes at for an assembly and a bowling-green. "funerals-I can imagine them, when Since this note was written I find a pas-"they throw off their cloaks, playing sage of Moore's Diary (VI. 11) wherein "leap-frog together."

Rogers remarks to Moore, on this very *Accounts of the written mountains subject of Young's mirth in conversation, may be seen in Burckhardt's Syria, "I dare say that people who act mel- 606-13 (Ed. 1822); they are also referred "ancholy as he did, must have a vent in to in Irby and Mangles' Travels (Ed. 1844),

1757. Æt. 29.

though he was altogether ignorant of good people of Peckham have Arabic, or the language in which they also cherished traditions of Goldmight be supposed to be written. The salary of £300 per annum, which had smith House, as what was once the been left for the purpose, was the school is now fondly designated, temptation!"* which may not safely be adTemptation indeed! The mitted here. Broken windowhead may well be full of projects panes have been religiously kept, of any kind, when the pockets for the supposed treasure of are only full of papers. But not, his handwriting;* and old genalas, to decipher inscriptions on tlemen, once Doctor Milner's the written mountains, only to scholars, have claimed, against preside over pot-hooks at Peck- every reasonable evidence, the ham, was doomed to be the lot honour of having been whipped of Goldsmith. One Doctor Milner, by the author of the Vicar of known still as the author of Latin Wakefield. But nothing is with and Greek grammars useful in certainty known, save what a their day, kept a school there; daughter of the schoolmaster has his son ** was among these young related.

Edinburgh fellow-students with At the end of the century Miss Oliver, come up, like Farr, Sleigh, Hester Milner, "an intelligent and others, to their London ex-"lady, the youngest, and only aminations; and thus it hap-"remaining of Doctor Milner's pened that the office of assistant "ten daughters," was still alive, at the Peckham academy befell. and very willing to tell what she "All my ambition now is to live," recollected of their old usher. he may fairly be supposed to An answer he had given her one have said, in the words he after-day to a question of her own, wards placed in the mouth of which, as it interested her youth, young Primrose. He seems to had happily not ceased to ochave been installed at about the cupy and interest her old age, beginning of 1757. An attempt seemed to have retained all the has been made to show that it strong impression that it first was an earlier year, but on made upon her. Her father grounds too unsafe to oppose to being a presbyterian divine, she known dates in his life. The could hardly fail to hear many arguments and differences in 126; and by many other writers on the doctrine or dogma discussed; East; see also Lady Sundon's Memoirs, II. p. 8. The inscriptions cover the rocks, and, in connection with these, it some of them twelve or fifteen feet high, appears to have occurred to her along a range of nearly three leagues, one day to ask Mr. Goldsmith

written from right to left, in short lines.

*Percy Memoir, 39, 40.

**Afterwards a physician in large practice at Maidstone, where his ten sisters kept house for him until all died but the youngest,

*I derived this from a History of Islington lent to me by Mr. Jerrold, but I omitted at the time to make a more exact reference.

1757.

Æt. 29.

what particular commentator on after "receiving them from Miss the Scriptures he would recom- "Milner on drinking tea with mend; when after a pause the "her," to write them down imusher replied, with much earnest-mediately on his return ness, that in his belief common-home. And as even biosense was the best interpreter of graphy has its critics jeathe sacred writings.* lous for its due and proper digWhat other reminiscences she nity, the present writer had perindulged took a lighter and in- haps better anticipate a possible deed humorous tone. He was objection to these and other very goodnatured, she said; anecdotes which in this narrative played all kinds of tricks on the will first be read, by pleading servants and the boys, of which also the apology of Miss Milner's he had no lack of return in kind; friend, that "however trivial they told entertaining stories; "was "may be, there are some young "remarkably cheerful, both in "persons to whom they may "the family and with the young "prove acceptable."

"gentlemen of the school"; and William was the name of the amused everybody with his flute. schoolmaster's servant, and his Two of his practical jokes on duty being to wait on the young Doctor Milner's servant, or foot- gentlemen at table, clean their boy, were thought worth putting shoes, and so forth, he was not, in a notebook by the worthy in social position, so very far regentleman, ** a neighbour of moved from the usher but that Miss Milner's at Islington, to much familiarity subsisted bewhom she related them, and who tween them. He was weak, but had already himself made some good-tempered, and one of Goldname in the world. Thinking smith's jokes had for its object that the old lady's recollections to cure him of a hopeless passion somewhat pleasantly illustrated with which a pretty servant-girl the "humour and cheerfulness of in the neighbourhood had in"Goldsmith," he was careful, spired him. This youthful Phillis seems to have rather suddenly

* Gent. Mag. LXXXVII. 277.

** Mr. John Evans, of Pullin's Row, quitted service and gone back to Islington: at this time a popular preacher her home in Yorkshire, leaving in the Baptist persuasion, and known as behind her a sort of half-promise the writer of a Brief Sketch of the De- that she would some day send nominations, &c. He conducted a school in Pullin's Row; and his high character William a letter; which everyis an additional voucher for the authen- body but William of course knew ticity of what he relates. He was a very was only her goodnatured way prolific writer. See a list of his works in Biographical Dictionary of Living Au- of getting rid of importunity: he, thors (1816), 110; and in the London Ca- however, having a fixed persuatalogue (1846), 161. He sent his anecdotes sion that the letter would come, to the fifty-third volume of the European Magazine (373-375). every morning would watch the