son.

"That is not owing to his killing dogs; sir, I remember a butcher at Litchfield, whom a dog that was in the house where I lived always attacked. It is the sinell of carnage which provokes this, let the animals he has killed be what they may." Goldsmith.—“Yes, there is a general abhorrence in animals at the signs of massacre. If you put a tub full of blood into a stable, the horses are likely to go mad." Johnson.-"I doubt that." Goldsmith." Nay, sir, it is a fact well authenticated." Thrale." You had better prove it before you put it into your book on Natural History. You may do it in my stable if you will." Johnson." Nay, sir, I would not have him prove it. If he is content to take his information from others, he may get through his book with little trouble, and without much endangering his reputation. But if he makes experiments for so comprehensive a book as his, there would be no end to them; his erroneous assertions would fall then upon himself; and he might be blamed for not having made experiments as to every particular."

Johnson's original prediction, however, with respect to this work, that Goldsmith would make it as entertaining as a Persian tale, was verified; and though much of it was borrowed from Buffon, and but little of it written from his own observation; though it was by no means profound, and was chargeable with many errors, yet the charms of his style and the play of his happy disposition throughout have continued to render it far more popular and readable than many works on the sub. ject of much greater scope and science. Cumberland was mistaken, however, in his noticn of

Goldsmith's ignorance and lack of observation as to the characteristics of animals. He was often a minute and shrewd observer, as his watching of the policy of rooks from his window overlooking the Temple Garden, and his admirable paper in the Bee on the habits of the spider, sufficiently testify. The following extract from a letter of the venerable Judge Day, of the Irish Bench, written in 1831, speaks of Goldsmith as he was during his residence in the Temple.

"I first became acquainted with Goldsmith in 1769, the year I entered the Middle Temple, where he had chambers; it was through the introduction of my friend and namesake, Mr., afterward Sir John Day, who subsequently became judge-advocate-general in Bengal.

"The poet frequented much the Grecian Coffeehouse, then the favourite resort of the Irish and Lancashire Templars; and delighted in collecting around him his friends, whom he entertained with a cordial and unostentatious hospitality. Occasionally he amused them with his flute or with whist, neither of which he played well, particularly the latter; but in losing his money he never lost his temper. In a run of bad luck and worse play, he would fling his cards upon the floor and exclaim, Bye-fore George, I ought for ever to renounce thee, fickle, faithless Fortune!'

6

"In person he was short, about five feet five or six inches; strong, but not heavy in make; rather fair in complexion, with brown hair, such, at least, as could be distinguished from his wig. His features were plain, but not repulsive-certainly not so when lighted up by conversation. His manners

were simple, natural, and perhaps, on the whole, wo may say, not polished; at least without the refinement and good-breeding which the exquisite polish of his compositions would lead us to expect. He was always cheerful and animated, often, indeed, boisterous in his mirth; entered with spirit int convivial society; contributed largely to its enjoy. ments by solidity of information, and the naïvet and originality of his character; talked often with out premeditation, and laughed loudly without 19.

straint.

Being then a young man, I felt myself much flattered by the notice of so celebrated a person He took great delight in the conversation and so ciety of Grattan, whose brilliancy in the morning of life furnished full earnest of the unrivalled splendour which awaited his meridian; and finding u dwelling together in Essex Court, near himself where he frequently visited my immortal friend his warm heart became naturally prepossessed to. wards the associate of one whom he so much ad mired.

"Just arrived as I then was from College, full freighted with academic gleanings, our author did not disdain to receive from me some opinions and hints towards his Greek and Roman histories, light and superficial works, not composed for fame, but compiled for the more urgent purpose of recruiting his exhausted finances. So in truth was his Animated Nature.' His purse replenished by labours of this kind, the season of relaxation and pleasure took its turn in attending the theatres, Ranelagh, Vauxhall, and other scenes of gayety and amusement, which he continued to frequent as long as his

supply held out. He was fond of exhibiting his muscular little person in the gayest apparel of the day, to which was added a bag wig and sword.

"This favourite costume involved him one morn. ing in a short but comical dialogue in the Strand with two coxcombs, one of whom, pointing to Goldsmith, called to his companion, in allusion to the poet's sword,' to look at that fly with a long pin stuck through it.' Goldsmith instantly cautioned the passengers aloud against that brace of disguised pickpockets;' and, having determined to teach those gentlemen that he wore a sword as well for defence from insolence as for ornament, he retired from the footpath into the coachway, which admitted of more space and freedom of action, and, half drawing his sword, beckoned to the witty gentleman, armed in like manner, to follow him; but he and his compan. ion, thinking prudence the better part of valour, declined the invitation, and sneaked away amid the hootings of the spectators.

"Whenever his funds were dissipated-and they fled more rapidly from being the dupe of many art. ful persons, male and female, who practised upon his benevolence-he returned to his literary labours, and shut himself up from society to provide fresh matter for his bookseller and fresh supplies for himself."

His mode in the summer-time, when pressed by a multiplicity of undertakings, or urged to the ac. complishment of some particular task, was to take country lodgings a few miles from town, generally on the Harrow or Edgeware Roads, and bury him. self there for weeks and months together. Some. times he would remain closely occupied in his

room, at other times he would stroll out along the lanes and hedgerows, and, taking out paper and pencil, note down thoughts to be expanded and connected at home. In some of the choicest and sweetest moments thus snatched from his coarser labours, and spent among the beautifully rural scenes which abound in the vicinity of London, he sketched off some of the first picturings of his "Deserted Village."

One of his country retreats was a little cottage with a garden, pleasantly situated about eight miles from town, on the Edgeware Road, which he took in conjunction with Mr. Botts, who had chambers adjacent to his own in the Temple. A rich shoe maker of Piccadilly had been the former occupant, and had been at some expense in rural decorations; in consequence of which, Goldsmith gave it the name of " the Shoemaker's Paradise." His fellow-occupant, Mr. Botts, drove a gig, which enabled Goldsmith occasionally to partake of the con<> vivialities of town, and return home in the evening. He and his friend, however, on one occasion had probably lingered too long at table, for in their way homeward they came near breaking their necks by driving against a post on the sidewalk, which Mr. Botts insisted was in the very middle of the broad Edgeware Road.

When circumstances prevented Goldsmith from taking summer lodgings in the country, the rural feeling, which was strong within him throughout life, called from time to time for practical gratifi. cation. His great delight on such occasions was to make up a rural party of four or five of his intimate friends, to enjoy what he humorously call.