till Johnson, impatient of the subject, cried out at last, "Why, what wouldest thou have, dear Doctor? Who the plague is hurt with all this nonsense? and how is a man the worse I wonder in his health, purse, or character for being called Holofernes?" "I do not know," replied the Poet with some readiness, "how you may relish being called Holofernes, but I do not like at least to play Goodman Dull."

Mrs. Piozzi, who relates the anecdote, gives no reference to the article that produced it, which however the writer has discovered.* The wit is neither very new nor sparkling. The author of it through the convenient medium of a dream, attends a fancied auction, where a bookseller acting as auctioneer, is supposed to put up the literati of the day to sale, and the literary friends are thus described, beginning with Johnson.

Auctioneer. "This is the Leviathan of Literature-the Colossus Doctor-and his friend, the head of the press; a technical pair, fit to fill up any lady's library. The first was secretary to Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, but turning out both an Idler and a Rambler and giving many False Alarms to the city, by which he frightened into fits the Queen Irene, he was immediately ordered to be sold by public auction.

"His companion was thought a Good-natured Man till he injured a Vicar of Wakefield by deluding the poor priest with a false Prospect of Society; since which he has crawled among the ruins of a Deserted Village, and employed his time in castrating the Roman History. These are the literary Castor and Pollux; the benevolent, celebrious, convivial associates; the incomprehensible Holofernes and the impenetrable Goodman Dull. Gentlemen say something for this concatenated couple.-Six shillings-Zounds that the originals should not fetch the price of one of their smallest works! Going for six shillings-The immaculate contemporaries for six shillings! Sixpence more;-for six and sixpence, going. These voluminous folios of pomposity for six and sixpence-going going-gone!

"Nothing astonished me so much as the price of these invaluable geniuses. I did at least imagine they would have fetched ten times as much as the Gentle Naso, † but I find sound sense and heavy judgment is not the present taste of the present age."

About the middle of June he brought out the Life of Parnell,‡ prefixed to an edition of his works. The facts contained in the memoir are few, which induced Johnson to say, "Goldsmith's Life of Parnell is poor; not that it is poorly written but that he had poor materials." Whether he used much diligence in adding to the existing stock, may be doubted, though obligations are confessed to the nephew of the poet, Sir John Parnell; but no reference appears from what we find in it to have been made to his daughter who was then living. We are consequently uninformed of the private life, the domestic habits and

• St. James's Chronicle, June 14th, 1770.

† Who was meant by the Gentle Naso does not appear: Cumberland, Macpherson, Major Topham, and others figure in this supposed catalogue of sale.

+ Published for T. Davies, price 18. separately; or with the Works of the Poet, 3s. 6d. St. James's Chronicle-Public Advertiser, July 13th, 1770.

manners, the origin, accidental or otherwise, of his productions, the space of time they occupied in the composition, when they were published, or his mode of study, in short of all those circumstances that go to make up a life not merely domestic but literary, and which a daughter might be thought capable and desirous of furnishing. When biography fails to interest us it commonly fails from this cause. All our knowledge of Parnell's residence in Ireland, where notwithstanding his love of England much time must necessarily have been passed, is confined to the fact of disliking his neighborhood. But biography at the time he lived and in all previous periods was too much neglected by contemporaries in both countries, surprisingly so considering its importance, and the omission is now difficult, more especially in Ireland, to repair. It was perhaps with a feeling of personal application, that Goldsmith from what he himself experienced, was induced to make the following remarks on the public character of his subject. "A poet, while living, is seldom an object sufficiently great to attract much attention; his real merits are known to but a few, and these are generally sparing in their praises. When his fame is increased by time, it is then too late to investigate the peculiarities of his disposition; the dews of the morning are past, and we vainly try to continue the chace by the meridian splendour."

The edition he produced contained chiefly the poems published by Pope, who selecting from the papers of his friend such only as were thought the best, suppressed others of less value. Several of these afterwards published, were questioned as to their authenticity and merit, and have been usually disregarded. Goldsmith did the same; but he or his publisher, for it is doubtful whether Davies did not introduce them on his own authority, added two pieces, Piety, or the Vision, and Bacchus;* with the Life of Zoilus, and his supposed remarks on Homer's battle of the Frogs and Mice, intended as satires on the critics, Dennis and Theobald.

On the principal pieces, he gives a few critical observations, which Dr. Johnson in the Lives of the Poets remarks it would not be safe to contradict. All his opinions however were not equally well received. For an indirect preference of the Night-piece on Death to Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard, which is thus expressed, "it deserves every praise, and I should suppose with very little amendment, might be made to surpass all those night pieces and churchyard scenes that have since appeared," he received a very sharp rebuke from one of the professional criticst as being "blind to all excellence but his own;" while Johnson likewise adds in preference of the English bard, that "Gray has the advantage of dignity, variety, and originality of sentiment."

The fame of Parnell rests on the Hermit, one of the most beautiful poems in our language; the Rise of Woman, the Fairy Tale, and the Allegory on Man, are perhaps next in merit. His characteristics

are ease, sweetness, and simplicity, which belong likewise with some higher qualities to Goldsmith himself, who seems in these respects to have superseded him in public estimation, for the Hermit though not forgotten, is less read than formerly. The remarks of David Hume on the subject of simplicity as applicable to this poet exhibit just taste and correct criticism with regard to his art, and deserve to be quoted as explaining to inferior critics the origin of much of the popularity belonging to Goldsmith.

"Those compositions which we read the oftenest and which every man of taste has got by heart, have the recommendation of simplicity, and have nothing surprising in the thought when divested of that elegance of expression and harmony of numbers with which it is clothed. If the merit of the composition lies in a point of wit, it may strike at first; but the mind anticipates the thought in the second perusal, and is no longer affected by it. When I read an epigram of Martial, the first line recalls the whole; and I have no pleasure in repeating to myself what I know already. But each line, each word in Catullus has its merit; and I am never tired with the perusal of him. It is sufficient to run over Cowley once; but Parnell after the fiftieth reading is as fresh as at the first."

Towards the end of July he joined Mrs. and the Misses Horneck in an excursion to Paris. To this journey there is an allusion in a letter of Miss Moser afterwards Mrs. Lloyd, daughter of the keeper of the Royal Academy, addressed to Fuseli, then at Rome.

"Some of the literati of the Royal Academy were much disappointed as they could not obtain diplomas, but the secretary who is above trifles, has since made a very flattering compliment to the Academy in the preface to his Travels: the Professor of History is comforted by the success of his 'Deserted Village,' which is a very pretty poem, and has lately put himself under the conduct of Mrs. Horneck and her fair daughters, and is gone to France; and Dr. Johnson sips his tea, and cares not for the vanity of the world." Immediately after disembarking at Calais he wrote the following lively sketch of the first few incidents that occurred on reaching the French shore, which has caused some regret that his letters were not more diligently continued.

"To Sir Joshua Reynolds.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,

"We had a very quick passage from Dover to Calais, which we performed in three hours and twenty minutes, all of us extremely sea-sick, which must necessarily have happened as my machine to prevent sea-sickness was not completed. We were glad to leave Dover, because we hated to be imposed upon; so were in high spirits at coming to Calais, where we were told that a little money would go a great way.

"Upon landing two little trunks, which was all we carried with us, we were surprised to see fourteen or fifteen fellows all running down to the ship to lay their hands upon them; four got under each trunk, the rest surrounded and held the hasps; and in this manner our little baggage was conducted with a kind of funeral solemnity, till it was safely lodged at the custom-house. We were well enough pleased with the people's civility till they came to be paid; every creature that had the happiness of but touching our trunks with their finger, expected sixpence; and they had so pretty and civil a manner of demanding it, that there was no refusing them.

"When we had done with the porters, we had next to speak with the custom-house officers who had their pretty civil way too. We were directed to the Hôtel d'Angleterre, where a valet de place came to offer his service, and spoke to me ten minutes before I once found out that he was speaking English. We had no occasion for his services, so we gave him a little money because he spoke English, and because he wanted it. I cannot help mentioning another circumstance; I bought a new riband for my wig at Canterbury, and the barber at Calais broke it in order to gain sixpence by buying ine a new one."

It was on this journey that the story printed by Boswell, of his exhibiting extreme jealousy of the admiration shown towards his young and beautiful companions, as if this were injustice to the distinction he thought due only to himself, first originated. Northcote in the Life of Reynolds has repeated the tale, with additional circumstances tending to confirm its truth, such as that "the town was Antwerp," "that the populace surrounded the door of the hotel and testified a desire to see those beautiful young women."

The absurdity of a man not absolutely an idiot, being jealous from motives of personal vanity of the admiration excited by his female friends, seems so incredible as scarcely to require contradiction. But having been believed and often quoted in the case of Goldsmith, the writer after examining the matter closely being satisfied of the incorrectness of the story, had written a page or two in disproof of its reality, when further trouble was saved him by an interview with Northcote, who voluntarily alluding to the anecdote expressed his regret that a statement so injurious to the poet, and which more correct information from the best authority had satisfied him was untrue, should have received further circulation by his means. From the same unquestionable source that he received the contradiction, namely from that of one of the ladies who was the principal party concerned, and who still to the delight of her friends survives to tell the story, the writer a few days afterwards received the following

account:

Having visited part of Flanders, they were proceeding to Paris by the way of Lisle, when in the vicinity of the hotel at which they put up, a part of the garrison going through some military manœuvres, drew them to the windows, when the gallantry of the officers broke forth into a variety of compliments intended for the ears of the English ladies. Goldsmith seemed amused; but at length assuming something of severity of countenance, which was a peculiarity of his humour often displayed when most disposed to be jocular, turned off, uttering something to the effect of what is commonly stated, that elsewhere he would also have his admirers. "This,"

added my informant, " was said in mere playfulness, and I was shocked many years afterwards to see it adduced in print as a proof of his envious disposition."

Of Paris, the same lady states he soon became tired, the celebrity of his name and the recent success of his poem, not ensuring that attention from its literary circles which the applause received at home induced him to expect. A letter of his written from Paris to Sir Joshua Reynolds at this time is still in existence, and records his distaste to France and almost every thing French; hints at the different impressions made on the mind by travelling at twenty (though he was twenty-seven when formerly in France) and at forty; wishes that the period of their sojourn had expired; and even projects the plot of a comedy to expose the folly of an English family going to France with the hope of living cheaply. With the same grave kind of humour as exhibited in the anecdote of the ladies at Lisle, and which on other occasions was mistaken by such as did not know him for serious discontent, he tells of one of his bon mots not being appreciated by his companions, For this letter which also adverts to the too familiar topic with him of pecuniary difficulty, the reader is indebted to the politeness of Mr. Singer.

"To Sir Joshua Reynolds.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,

"Paris, July 29th, (1770.)

"I began a long letter to you from Lisle giving a description of all that we had done and seen, but finding it very dull and knowing that you would show it again I threw it aside and it was lost. You see by the top of this letter that we are at Paris, and (as I have often heard you say) we have brought our own amusement with us, for the ladies do not seem to be very fond of what we have yet

seen.

"With regard to myself I find that travelling at twenty and at forty are very different things. I set out with all my confirmed habits about me and can find nothing on the Continent so good as when I formerly left it. One of our chief amusements here is scolding at every thing we meet with and praising every thing and every person we left at home. You may judge therefore whether your name is not frequently bandied at table among us. To tell you the truth I never thought I could regret your absence so much as our various mortifications on the road have often taught me to do. I could tell you of disasters and adventures without number, of our lying in barns, and of my being half poisoned with a dish of green peas, of our quarrelling with postilions and being cheated by our landladies, but I reserve all this for a happy hour which I expect to share with you upon my return.

"I have little to tell you more but that we are at present all well, and expect returning when we have staid out one month, which I did not care if it were over this very day. I long to hear from you all, how you yourself do, how Johnson, Burke, Dyer, Chamier, Colman, and every one of the club do. I wish I could send you some