founded on the bondage of the Israelites in Baby. lon. It was one of those unhappy offsprings of the Muse, tortured into existence amid the distortions of music. One or two songs from it have been introduced among his other writings; the rest of the Oratorio has passed into oblivion. Goldsmith distrusted his powers to succeed in poetry, and doubt. ed the disposition of the public mind in regard to it. "I fear," said he, "I have come too late into the world; Pope and other poets have taken up the places in the temple of Fame; and as few at any period can possess poetical reputation, a man of genius can now hardly acquire it." Again, on another occasion, he observes: "Of all kinds of ambition, as things are now circumstanced, perhaps that which pursues poetical fame is the wildest. What from the increased refinement of the times, from the diversity of judgment produced by opposing systems of criticism, and from the more prevalent divisions of opinion influenced by party, the strongest and happiest efforts can expect to please but in a very narrow circle." At this very time he had by him his poem of "The Traveller." The plan of it, as has already been observed, was conceived many years before, during his travels in Switzerland, and a sketch of it sent from that country to his brother Henry in Ireland. The original outline is said to have embraced a wider scope; but it was probably contracted through diffidence, in the process of finishing the parts. It had laid by him for several years in a crude state, and it was with extreme hesitation and after much revision that he at length submitted it to Dr. Johnson. The frank and warm approbation of the latter encouraged him to finish it for the press; and Dr. Johnson himself contrib. uted a few lines towards the conclusion. We hear much about "poetic inspiration," and the "poet's eye in a fine phrensy rolling;" but Sir Joshua Reynolds gives an anecdote of Goldsmith while engaged upon his poem calculated to cure our notions about the ardour of composition. Calling upon the poet one day, he opened the door without ceremony, and discovered him in the double occu. pation of turning a couplet and teaching a pet dog to set upon his haunches. At one time he would glance his eye at his desk, and at another shake his finger at the dog to make him retain his position. The last lines on the page before him were still wet; they form a part of the description of Italy: 'By sports like these are all their cares beguiled, Goldsmith, with his usual good-humour, joined in the laugh caused by his whimsical employment, and acknowledged that his boyish sport with the dog suggested the stanza. The poem was published on the 19th of Decem. ber, 1764, in a quarto form, by Newbery, and was the first of his works to which Goldsmith prefixed his name. As a testimony of cherished and wellmerited affection, he dedicated it to his brother Henry. There is an amusing affectation of indif. ference as to its fate expressed in the dedication. "What reception a poem may find," says he, "which has neither abuse, party, nor blank verse to support it, I cannot tell, nor am I solicitous to know." The truth is, no one was more emulous and anxious for poetic fame; and never was he more anxious than in the present instance, for it was his grand stake. Dr. Johnson aided the launching of the poem by a favourable notice in the Critical Review; other periodical works came out in its favour. Some of the author's friends complained that it did not command instant and wide popularity; that it was a poem to win, not to strike it went on rapidly increasing in favour; in three months a second edition was issued; shortly afterward, a third; then a fourth; and, before the year was out, the author was pronounced the best poet of his time. The effect of "the Traveller" was instantaneous in elevating Goldsmith in the estimation of society. The circle of wits and literati accustomed to assemble at the house of Sir Joshua Reynolds, some of whom had hitherto treated him slightingly, now received him as a worthy compeer. Sir John Hawkins, afterward one of Johnson's biographers, acknowledged that he had been accustomed to consider Goldsmith a mere bookseller's drudge, and was surprised, on the publication of his poem, to find him gifted with such genius, and capable of such noble sentiments. A poor attempt was made to take from his merit by asserting that Dr. Johnson was the author of many of the finest passages. This was ultimately defeated by Johnson himself, who marked with a pencil all that he had contributed, nine in number, inserted towards the conclusion, and by no means the best in the poem. Goldsmith now felt called upon to improve his style of living. He accordingly took chambers in the Temple, that classic region, famous in the time of the British essayists as the abode of wits and men of letters, and whieh, with its retired courts and imbowered gardens, in the very heart of a noisy metropolis, is, to the quiet-seeking student and author, an oasis freshening with verdure in the midst of a desert. 66 His first chambers were not quite to his taste, which was growing a little fastidious. Johnson, in paying him a visit, went prying about the room in his nearsighted manner, examining things closely and minutely. Goldsmith, fidgetted by the scrutiny, and apprehending a disposition to find fault, observed that he should soon be in better chambers. Nay, sir," said Johnson, "never mind thatnil te quæsiveris extra"-implying that his reputation rendered him independent of outward show. Goldsmith, however, was not convinced by this flattering compliment, but removed soon afterward to a more spacious and airy apartment, consisting of three rooms, on the second floor of No. 2 Brick Court. With his usual want of forethought, he obtained advances from booksellers and loans from private friends to enable him to furnish them expensively, and thus burdened himself with debts which continued to harass him for the remainder of his days. One of the friends who assisted him with his purse on this occasion was Mr. Edmund Bott, a barrister and man of letters, with whom he lived on the most intimate and cordial terms, and who had rooms immediately opposite, on the same floor. The pleasant situation of Goldsmith's chambers may be gathered from his remarks in his "Ani. mated Nature" on the habitudes of rooks. "I have often amused myself with observing their plans of policy from my window in the Temple, that looks upon a grove where they have made a colony in the midst of a city. At the commence ment of spring, the rookery, which, during the continuance of winter, seemed to have been deserted, or only guarded by about five or six, like old soldiers in a garrison, now begins to be once more frequented; and, in a short time, all the bustle and hurry of business will be fairly commenced." Goldsmith was now in full communion with that association of wits, scholars, authors, artists, and statesmen, subsequently known as the Literary Club. It was formed fortuitously, and grew out of occasional meetings of men of talent at the table of Sir Joshua Reynolds. These took a regular form about the year 1764, when the plan of a club was suggested by Sir Joshua Reynolds to Johnson and Burke, and met with their immediate concurrence. The number of members was limited to twelve: they were to meet and sup together once a week at the Turk's Head in Gerrard-street, Soho. Two members were to be sufficient to constitute a meeting. The original members were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Johnson, Burke, Dr. Nugent (Burke's father-in-law), Dr. Goldsmith, Topham Beauclerk, Mr. Langton, Mr. Chamier, and Sir John Hawkins. For three or four years the club did not reach to the stipulated number of twelve, though afterward it was increased to thirty. It has continued down to the present day, and has enrolled among its members many of the most distinguished men of Great Britain. Its era of greatest brilliancy, |