the opening of the sixth volume of Animated Nature, it is thus poetically adverted to, with the effects of its call upon the minds of the villagers. "Those who have walked in an evening by the sedgy sides of unfrequented rivers, must remember a variety of notes from different waterfowl: the loud scream of the wild goose, the croaking of the mallard, the whining of the lapwing, and the tremulous neighing of the jacksnipe. But of all these sounds, there is none so dismally hollow as the booming of the bittern. It is impossible for words to give those who have not heard this evening call an adequate idea of its solemnity. It is like an interrupted bellowing of a bull, but hollower and louder, and is heard at a mile's distance as if issuing from some formibable being that resided at the bottom of the waters. I remember in the place where I was a boy with what terror this bird's note affected the whole village; they considered it as the presage of some sad event; and generally found or made one to succeed it. I do not speak ludicrously; but if any person in the neighbourhood died, they supposed it could not be otherwise, for the night-raven had foretold it; but if nobody happened to die, the death of a cow or sheep gave completion to the prophecy.'" pp. 380-383. We have been surprised in the perusal of a late Life of Cowper by Mr. Southey, to find no allusion to the dulcet strains of this admirable poet. He recounts Pope, Gray, Akenside, Glover, Churchill, and Crabbe, but omits any reference to the author of the Traveller, Deserted Village, and Hermit. Perhaps Goldsmith may be regarded by Mr. Southey as a minor or indifferent poet, as Cowper seems to have considered Pope, and as Byron deemed Cowper. If so, in the dispensation of poetical justice, the poet-laureate himself may in his turn be ruthlessly despoiled, by an unsparing hand, of those blooming laurels which now cluster so proudly and thickly around him. It is to be regretted that a man who was capable of writing the Traveller, Deserted Village, and so many other works of standard eminence, should have been obliged by the penury of his circumstances to bring out productions so lame and imperfect as the lives of Bolingbroke and Parnell. He was sensible of the occasional effects of his haste, and wrote to Mr. Langton with reference to it in the following strain :"God knows I am tired of this kind of finishing, which is but bungling work; and that not so much my fault as the fault of my scurvy circumstances." To some one else he observed, "I must write a book, while you are pondering over a word or a phrase." After the biographies alluded to, came out in quick succession, the humorous and admirable jeux d'esprit, Retaliation, and the Haunch of Venison, the latter addressed to his friend, Lord Clare, and a History of England in four volumes. This History, as well as that of Rome which preceded, and the History of Greece which followed it, possesses all the graceful attractiveness of his style, and the usual ingenuity of his reflections. They are elegant abstracts, so happily condensed as to embrace as much useful knowledge as any histories of the same size, within the compass of any language. They received the emphatic sanction of his great contemporary, Dr. Johnson, a severe judge; and a most flattering verdict has been rendered by the unbiassed judgment of posterity. In the early part of the year 1773, was enacted for the first time at Covent Garden, his comedy, "She Stoops to Conquer, or the Mistakes of a Night." When this play was sent to Colman, at that time the manager, he verbally expressed a great variety of objections to the whole performance. He at length returned the manuscript to Goldsmith, with critical remarks written on the blank sides of the leaves, in violation, as it was considered, of literary courtesy. The friends of the poet to whom these animadversions were shown, called them unfair; the public journalists denounced them, as "envious, insipid, and contemptible." Garrick, who was referred to, manifested his usual indecision, but hesitated to pronounce a favourable opinion. The friends of Goldsmith, and especially Johnson, then interfered, and procured, by their remonstrances, the reluctant consent of the manager to its representation. When in rehearsal, the inimical Colman suggested alterations which went to change the whole aspect of the piece. Being rejected by the author, a new offence was given, the effects of which were very soon perceived. He induced two of the chief performers, Smith and Woodward, to decline their respective parts, and during the period of rehearsal, as well as before, indulged in the most unhandsome strictures, confidently predicting its failure. To crown all, the scenery, dresses, and actors, were of an inferior description. Seeing such accumulated causes of apprehension, his friends advised the postponement of its appearance until the following season. Owing to the state of his finances, he declined the proposal, and, with the lofty pride of merit, declared-"I should sooner that my play were damned by bad players than merely saved by good acting." It must be premised, that for a long period a passion for what was called sentimental comedy, had so taken possession of London as to banish wit and humour from the stage. "The Good-Natured Man," and "She Stoops to Conquer," were not in harmony with the predominating taste, but were boldly designed to alter its complexion. Shortly before the latter play appeared, Goldsmith, with a view to conciliate the public, composed an agreeable essay, entitled "A Comparison between Laughing and Sentimental Comedy." The time of representation at last arrived, and what with the dampening effects of the manager's well-known sentiments and all-pervading influence, there was an evident anticipation of miscarriage. But the public were so stupid as to be amused, exhilarated, and delighted, to a degree beyond the hopes of the author. In short, it was received with the most emphatic applause, and the three nights of the poet yielded him between four and five hundred pounds. The daily press was loud in condemnation and ridicule of Colman on the one hand, and in the most flattering ascriptions of merit to Goldsmith on the other. We select from the many verses given by Mr. Prior, two or three pieces as specimens: 66 TO DR. GOLDSMITH, On the success of his new Comedy, called 'She Stoops to Conquer.' "Long has the Comic Muse, seduced to town, Shone with false charms, in finery not her own; And sickly sentiments, to conquer hearts: But now reclaim'd, she seeks her native plains, Where pass'd her youth, where mirth, where pleasure reigns; And takes once more plain Nature for her guide; And Stoops to Conquer with her Goldsmith's pen." "Has then, (the question pray excuse, "How drugs alike in strength and name, When what exalts the doctor's fame "TO GEORGE COLMAN, ESQ., On the success of Dr. Goldsmith's new Comedy. "As this has 'scaped without a fall, New actors hire from Wapping Wall, "For scenes let tatter'd blankets fly, "Should these tricks fail, the lucky elf E'en write the best you can yourself, The triumph of the author was singal and complete, and the discomfiture of Colman attended with no circumstance of mitigation. The warfare against Colman was waged with such spirit and heat, that he at length cried out to his victor for mercy, and begged him "to take him off the rack of the newspapers." Such is the intrinsic virtue of a good cause, or rather such the retributive power of justice! A flood of so much praise provoked, unavoidably, the malevolence of his old enemies. Kenrick was the author of a, most scurrilous composition, referring unhandsomely to a female of the poet's acquaintance. Though too coarse and vulgar for notice, Goldsinith was indignant, and in the mistaken notion that a show of spirit was necessary, corporally belaboured the unoffending publisher. The fact was noised about London, and the impropriety of attempting to restrain the freedom of the press by such means, was canvassed. It was asserted, too, that Goldsmith, as a contributor to the periodical press, had no doubt indulged in criticism as severe as that for the punishment of which he had now resorted to personal outrage. Of this imputation he seems to have been entirely innocent, as his strictures were always exempt from personality, and the tone of his criticism was calmn and dignified. He therefore replied to the charge, and justified his course in the following brief and well-written address: "To the Public. "Lest it should be supposed that I have been willing to correct in others an abuse of which I have been guilty myself, I beg leave to declare, that in all my life I never wrote or dictated a single paragraph, letter, or essay in a newspaper, except a few moral essays under the character of a Chinese, about ten years ago, in the Ledger, and a letter to which I signed my name, in the St. James's Chronicle. If the liberty of the press, therefore, has been abused, I have had no hand in it. "I have always considered the press as the protector of our freedom, as a watchful guardian, capable of uniting the weak against the encroachments of power. What concerns the public, most properly admits of a public discussion. But of late the press has turned from defending public interest, to making inroads upon private life; from combatting the strong, to overwhelming the feeble. No condition is now too obscure for its abuse, and the protector has become the tyrant of the people. In this manner the freedom of the press is beginning to sow the seeds of its own dissolution; the great must oppose it from principle, and the weak from fear; till at last every rank of mankind shall be found to give up its benefits, content with security from insults. "How to put a stop to this licentiousness by which all are indiscriminately abused, and by which vice consequently escapes in the general censure, I am unable to tell; all I could wish is that, as the law gives us no protection against the injury, so it should give calumniators no shelter after having provoked correction. The insults which we receive before the public, by being more open are the more distressing; by treating them with silent contempt, we do not pay a sufficient deference to the opinion of the world. By recurring to legal redress we too often expose the weakness of the law, which only serves to increase our mortification by failing to relieve us. In short, every man should singly consider himself as the guardian of the liberty of the press, and as far as his influence can extend, should endeavour to prevent its licentiousness becoming at last the grave of its freedom. "OLIVER GOLDSMITH." The play was as successful in print as at the theatre, for it is said six thousand copies were sold during that and the ensuing season. He had projected, upon a popular plan, a "Dictionary of the Arts and Sciences," which the versatility of his genius and the distinguished aid he had been promised, would no doubt have been worthy of his great reputation. Burke was to furnish an abstract of his Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful, Bishop Berkley a paper on Philosophy, Sir Joshua Reynolds on Painting, Dr. Burney on Music, and Garrick on his peculiar art, as far as writing could impart its intransitive arcana. As Dr. Goldsmith's taste, which he made no secret in confessing, was rather classical than scientific, other contributors would have been indispensable. A prospectus was prepared, according to Bishop Percy, in the best style of the author, but the booksellers hesitating to second his views, an undertaking which had long engaged his mind, upon which he had spent great labour, and for which he had felt much anxiety, was abandoned. His inferior enterprises, which were always numerous, and now, when his pecuniary affairs were involved, ceased to be productive, gave him marked uneasiness. His "Animated Nature," which came out in June, 1774, had been paid for long before, and though it confirmed and enlarged his reputation, did not replenish his coffers. Of this extensive and laborious work, it is enough to say, that happily coinciding with his tastes, it was executed con amore, and written in his most polished and elegant manner. Though more than sixty years have elapsed from its appearance, and since that time knowledge in this department has greatly advanced, yet no treatise has superseded it with the general reader. An edition of this excellent book, with "alterations and corrections," was published a year or two ago in Philadelphia. But the pressure of his necessities increasing, they at length undermined his nervous system, produced despondency, and laid the foundation of that disease which soon after extinguished in death the perishable part of Goldsmith. His friend Cradock, who met him in London a short time before his decease, gives the following narrative: "Goldsmith I found much altered and at times very low, and I devoted almost all my mornings to his immediate service. He wished me |