GOLDSMITH. 1. 1728-52 Oliver Goldsmith was born at Pallas, in Forney parish, co. Longford, Ireland, Nov. 29, 1728, the son of a clergyman, whose portrait, as given in that of Village Preacher drawn by his son, is well known to everybody. To his elder brother Henry he afterwards dedicated The Traveller. He was sent to some local school, and in time (in 1744) to Trinity College, Dublin, but he does not seem to have cut a very good figure as a pupil and scholar. After his leaving the University, his friends proposed various schemes for his future life, which were frustrated by his masterly thoughtlessness. 2. 1752-6. At last, in 1752, with the assistance of his friends he reached Edinburgh, to study medicine. Then he passed over to Leyden, to study anatomy and chemistry; but the gaming-table had more attractions for him. Then he travelled, a very vagrant, about Europe; through Flanders, France, Switzerland, Italy, dependent during at least part of his tour upon what he could earn with his flute or beg by the way. In 1756 he landed at Dover. 3. 1756-9. Arrived in London, matters went hard with him. assistant in a chemist's shop, medical practitioner, literary hack. tinction by his Present State of Polite Literature in Europe. by no means over, nor indeed were ever to be, or could ever be, so incurable was his improvidence, with 1759 began better times; Goldsmith had found his work. He was usher in a school, In 1759 he won some disThough his distresses were 4. 1759-74. In 1760 his fame was extended by his Citizen of the World; in 1764 by The Traveller, 1766 by The Vicar of Wakefield, 1770 by The Deserted Village, 1773 by She Stoops to Conquer. During these years he took his place as one of the literary leaders of his time. He became a conspicuous member of the Johnsonian circle. But his improvidence never failed to embarrass his circumstances. In the spring of 1774 his difficulties reached a crisis. Mental distress aggravated an attack of a disease to which his habits, at times severely sedentary, had rendered him liable; his illness was made worse by injudicious selfdoctoring. In the height of his fame he died, March 25, 1774. As a prose writer few English writers have been endowed with a happier gift of style than Goldsmith; and few writers illustrate better than he how great is the power of a happy style. Perfect ease is his characteristic. Not a trace of effort is ever perceptible. Indeed his danger is of an opposite sort; for traces of carelessness may be detected only too often. There is a world of difference between writing easily, and writing free-and-easily-a difference often forgotten by attempters of the easy style. Goldsmith never mistakes the one for the other; he never sinks into vulgarity. With all his charming familiarity he yet never takes liberties with his readers, or exposes himself to liberties from them. Other characteristics are lucidity, idiotism, aptness and felicity of language. Such were the attractions of his style that they served as a complete apology for very serious defects in many of his works. They served to make his History of England, his History of Rome, his History of the Earth and Animated Nature, popular for more than two generations, and still give a wonderful fascination to those so-called histories. "Nullum [scribendi genus] quod tetigit, non ornavit." It is difficult to conceive of any theme which his style could not have rendered palatable and sweet. He was a very literary Midas; he could transmute to gold whatever he touched. Literature was his profession. He tried other means of livelihood in vain. He wrote much and variously, charining always. To us of to-day he is best known as a Novelist and a Poet. As a novelist, to whom is he not known, and known with delight? The Vicar of Wakefield as a story abounds in improbabilities and incoherences, indeed as a story it is worth very little; neither as a picture of what it professes to paint, English domestic life, can it be pronounced of great value; but it has created at least one fellow-creature for us with a truthfulness, a humour, a pathos almost incomparable. The Vicar can never be forgotten. He is a permanent part of the population of the world. Neither can the unceasing kindness of nature, the true gentle sympathy with the joys and the sorrows of men, the love not blind but still considerate and pitying which inspire and animate that portrait, ever be forgotten. "It is not to be described," writes Göthe to Zelter in 1830, "the effect which Goldsmith's Vicar had upon me just at the critical moment of mental development. That lofty and benevolent irony, that fair and indulgent view of all infirmities and faults, that meekness under all calamities, that equanimity under ali changes and chances, and the whole train of kindred virtues, whatever names they bear, proved my best education." Surely one may look leniently on Goldsmith's shortcomings as a constructive artist, as one may shrink from passing any bitter sentence upon the frailties on his life, when one is refreshed and purified by his high wisdom and never-failing charity. If without offence I may use the words, I would say that his sins which were many should be forgiven, for he "loved much." As a poet, grace marks Goldsmith rather than power-"sweetness" rather than "light." In accordance with the dubious theory of his age, he attempted what was called didactic poetry. Both The Traveller and The Deserted Village have a didactic purpose. So far as that purBut happily pose predominates, they fail as poems, if not also as philosophical treatises. Goldsmith's practice was better than his theory. Moved by a true poetic instinct, he often forgets his text; he intermits his preaching or his argumentation; and turns his powers to properer uses. Goldsmith is certainly one of our most charming descriptive poets. One cannot readily mention any pieces of domestic scenery that deserve comparison with those he has given us. Crabbe essayed to follow in his train; but, great as are his merits, he can scarcely be equalled with his master. In his facts Goldsmith is well-nigh as faithful as Teniers; in sentiment and in spirit he excels him, THE TRAVELLER, OR A PROSPECT OF SOCIETY. This poem was begun during Goldsmith's wanderings abroad. The first sketch is said to have been sent from Switzerland to his brother Henry in Ireland. Perhaps what is called the first sketch was only the opening passage in which he talks of himself and home, and of his brother. Certainly there is something abrupt in the relation of that passage to the main part of the poem-in the transition from those personal thoughts to the thesis proposed to be treated of from the home-sick wanderer to the abstracted philosopher. See 11. 31-62. Probably other parts were written during his subsequent travels. Johnson, to whom what was written was shown when Goldsmith and he became acquainted, recognized the merit of it and urged its completion. Johnson himself wrote 1. 420, and the concluding ten lines, except the last couplet but one. It was published towards the end of 1764. In the title, for prospect we should rather say view; Society is employed in a much broader sense than is now the common use of the word. The nominal object of the poem is to show that, as far as happiness is concerned. one form of government is as good as another. This was a favourite paradox with Dr Johnson. Whether he or Goldsmith really believed it, may be reasonably doubted. Of course it is true that no political arrangements, however excellent, can secure for any individual citizen immunity from misery; it is true also that different political systems may suit different peoples, and further that every political system has its special dangers; and it is true, again, that what constitution may be adapted for what people is often a question of the profoundest difficulty; it is true, lastly, that no civil constitution relieves anyone enjoying the benefit of it from his own proper duties and responsibilities but it is assuredly not true that there is no relation whatever between the government of a country and the happiness of its inhabitants. A government can, as it pleases, or according to its enlightenment, make circumstances favourable or unfavourable to individual development and happiness. So a priori one would suppose; so a posteriori one sees that it is. The political indifferentism set forth in The Traveller is in fact merely paradoxical. Fortunately one's enjoyment of the poem does not depend upon the accuracy of the creed it professes. 91. 1. [Describe the course of the Scheld. Why is it called lazy?] Slow. See Boswell's Johnson, chap. lxiii. 2. Wandering Po. = the ancient Lat. Padus, Ligurian Bodencus, Greek Eridanus. Virgil refers to its terrible floods; See Georg. i, 481, iv. 372. 3. [Where is Carinthia?] 6. [Explain expanding to the skies.] 19. pranks Welsh pranc, a frolic. 21. There are many negligences of style in this poem, as always in Goldsmith's writings. The echo of the word stranger in 1. 16 has scarcely died out of the reader's ear before here it occurs again. So bending and bend in II. 48 and 52. Comp. the double recurrence of the word ill in Des. Vill. 1. 51: "Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey;" where the fact that in the former case it is an advb., in the latter a subst., rather makes matters worse. 23. Cowper must have had this passage, consciously or unconsciously, in his ear when he wrote 1. 100 et seq. in his lines On the receipt of my Mother's Picture out of Norfolk. 92. 27. [Explain the circle bounding earth and skies.] 32. me. See note to L'Aileg. 25. 33. [Why is the d in plac'd pronounced as t?] 34. an hundred. See note on Des. Vill. 93. 41. [Explain dissemble.] [How would you analyze all it can ?] 42. these little things. See 1. 40. 45-49. See ll. 34-36. 48. [Explain bending.] swains. Swain was the poet's word for peasant in the last century. It is of Teutonic origin, and means properly a young man, then a servant; cf. maís, garçon, knave, &c [What does he mean by dress here?] 50. [What part of the sentence is creation's heir?] 52. As if the reckoning of his treasure was his work. 53. [What is meant by fill here ?] 55. [How would you explain to here?] 57. sorrows fall. sorrows signs of sorrow, i. e. tears. = 64. [What is the government of to find here ?] 93. 72. See Alex. Feast, 88. 74. [What is meant by his here ?] 77. [What difference in the meaning would will, instead of shall, make?] 84. Idra Idria in Carniola, a town amidst mountains on the river Idria. Near it are the famous quicksilver mines. 84. Shelvey = gently sloping. See Merry W. of W. III. v. 15. 85. rocky crested is really one word. 87. With the use of the word Art here comp. Johnson's first definition: "The power of doing something not taught by nature or instinct." In ll. 146 and 304 arts = the Fine Arts. 90. either is not very accurately used here; the ther is properly dual. It is as if uterque should be used for quisque, ékáτepos for ëkaσTos. But this careless use of either is not so unfrequent: thus Bacon apud Johnson: "Henry VIII, Francis I. and Charles V. were so provident as scarce a palm of ground could be gotten by either of the three but that the other two would set the balance of Europe upright again," &c. So Wither, &c. So neither in the Auth. V. of Rom. viii. 38, &c. But perhaps either may be justified here by supposing the "blessings" just enumerated, to be considered as divided in a two-fold manner: (i.) the one prevailing, (ii.) the others, which are cast into the shade by that prevailing one. good." 95. the favourite happiness. Comp. Pope on the Ruling Passion, Moral Essays, 1. = 108. in gay theatric pride. The stage often borrows similes and metaphors from nature; here nature is made indebted to the stage! 109. [What "part of speech," and what part of the sentence is between here ?] 94. 113. Thus cherries (Pruni Cerasi) were imported by Lucullus, &c. &c. 114. Comp. Tusc. Disp. V. xiii. 37: "arbores et vites et ea quæ sunt humiliora neque se tollere a terra altius possunt." 115. [blooms. Explain this word here.] 119. the kindred sail. Obs. the proleptic use of the adj. So often in Greek and Latin; as Soph. Antig. 881, ed. Dindorf: “ τὸν δ ̓ ἐμὸν πότμον ἀδάκρυτον οὐδεὶς φίλων στενάζει. 120. [Explain this line. Which is the emphatic word?] 122. winnow here = waft, blow, with no notion of separating and sifting as commonly. Of course the word is directly connected with wind. Obs. the use of this verb in Par. Lost, v. 269: "then with quick fan Winnows the buxom air;" i. e. strikes the air as if winnowing, in a winnowing or fanning manner. Ultimately, fan and winnow are connected. 127. manners in the sense of the Lat. mores. 132. Genoa and Venice and Florence reached their commercial prime about the close of the Middle Ages. 135-138. [Of what architects, painters, sculptors, is he thinking?] 139. Two of the main causes, certainly, of the decay of Italian commerce were the discovery of America, and that of the sea-route to India. 143. [What is meant by skill here ?] 144. [What is meant by plethoric ill?] 95. 167. bleak and black are primitively identical words. The radical notion is pale. Bleach to make bleak. Here bleak has its secondary meaning of chill, cheerless. 170. From the 15th century downwards the Swiss were the chief mercenary soldiers of Europe. See Hamlet, IV. v. 97. 178. [What part of the sentence is the lot of all?] 181. [Explain deal here.] 182. loath. See note to London, 40. 187. trolls. One of Johnson's definitions of troll is: “to fish for a pike with a rod which has a pulley towards the bottom, which I suppose gives occasion to the term." He quotes from Gray: "Nor drain I ponds the golden carp to take. Nor trowle for pikes, dispeoplers of the lake." The word is akin to thrill, drill, Germ. trollen, Fr. trôler, &c. 187. finny. See Rape of the Lock, 174. This application of the word to the sea itself is bold, and perhaps unique; as if squamigerum or squamosum should be applied to the sea! 190. savage. We now confine this word as a substantive to members of the human species. 191. [What part of the sentence is every labour sped? Parse sped. What does the word mean?] 193. him. See me, 1. 32. Comp. Burns' Cotter's Sat. Night. 196. platter is of course derived from plate. 198. nightly. See note on Hymn Nat. 179. 96. 202. enhance. Lit. forward, put forward. The stem is the Lat, ante. = 206. close and closer. Perhaps closer and closer; but the former comparative inflection is omitted for euphony's, or for the metre's sake, just as one adverbial inflection is omitted in "safe and nicely," King Lear, V. iii., 66 fair and softly," John Gilpin, &c. 216. supplies = satisfies. 221. [What is the force of level here ?] 224. The of serves to make once a year adjectival to festival. It has the force of ly in yearly. Once is treated as a subst. = one occurrence. 232. [Can fall be justified here? What led him to write so?] 235. Such "morals" as "play" in the Tatler and Spectator. 97. 243. Compare Tristram Shandy, end of Book 7. 244. tuneless. See below, 11. 247, 248. 253. Gestic is cognate with gesture, gesticulate, jest (originally gest), gest in Spenser's F. Q. Scott speaks of the " 'gestic art" in Peveril of the Peak, chap. xxx. 256. [Explain their world.] 259. Obs. this definition of what is here called honour. 262. traffic, derived ultimately from Lat. trans, and facio, is said to mean originally something done beyond," i. e. beyond the seas. With the use here comp. "commercing with the skies," Il Pens. 39, where see note. 264. Comp. Horace of the Greeks, (Ep. ad Pis. 324): "Præter laudem nullius avaris." 273. tawdry. This word is said to be derived from Saint Audrey (= Saint Ethelreda, at the fairs held on whose days gay finery, especially laces, was sold. In Spenser's Shep heards Calendar, April, it has scarcely acquired its depreciatory sense: Binde your fillets faste, And gird in your waste, For more finenesse, with a tawdrie lace." 277. [What is the meaning of cheer here? What other meanings has the word?] 98. 285. See Andrew Marvell's bitter satirical description of Holland in his Character of Holland. He most unjustly taunts the Dutch with what they might and may well be proud of the vigour and industry which rescued and protected their country from the sea. 286. rampire the old French form rampar. This form occurs often, if not generally, in the Elizabethan writers. So in Tim. of Ath. V. iv. 47. "Our rampired gates." So Chapman, &c. Holland, in his translation of Pliny, writes rampiar. Milton uses the form rampart (Par. Lost, i. 678). 288. bulwark etymologically, bole-work, that a rampart made of tree-trunks. Boulevard is but a corrupted form of bulwark. "Les boulevards de Paris n'étaient sous Louis XIV. que l'enceinte même [= le terre-plein des ramparts] de Paris" (Brachet's Dict. Etym.). |