willing to accept the play, but he wished to be courted to it, and the Doctor was not disposed to purchase his friendship by the resignation of his sincerity. He then applied to Mr. Colman, who accepted his comedy without any hesitation. The Good-natured Man bears strong marks of that happy originality which distinguishes the writings of Dr. Goldsmith, Two characters in this comedy were absolutely unknown before to the English stage; a man who boasts an intimacy with persons of high rank whom he never saw, and another who is almost always lamenting misfortunes he never knew. Croaker is as highly designed, and as strongly finished a portrait of a discontented man; if one who disturbs every happiness he possesses, from apprehension of distant evil, as any character of Congreve, or any other of our English dramatists. Shuter acted Croaker with that warm glee of fancy, and genuine flow of humour, that always accompanied his best and most animated performance. The great applause and profit which attended the acting of this comedy, contributed to render the author more important in his own eyes, and in the opinion of the public. But no good fortune could make Goldsmith discreet, nor any increase of fame diminish his envy, or cure the intractability of his temper. John Home was taught by experience, that his connexions with the great were of no avail with the public; and that courtly approbation was no protection from popular dislike; he therefore veiled himself in obscurity, and prevailed upon a young gentleman, his friend, to adopt his play of The Fatal Discovery; but the foster-father performed his assumed character so awkwardly at the rehearsal of this tragedy, that it was soon discovered that the child was not his own; for he submitted to have the piece altered, lopped, and corrected, with such tranquillity of temper, as the real parent could not have assumed. Of the true author Goldsmith by chance found out the knowledge; and when the play was announced to the public, it will hardly be credited, that this man of benevolence, for such he really was, endeavoured to muster a party to condemn it; alleging this cogent reason for the proceeding, that such 'fellows ought not to be encouraged.' Wits are game cocks to one another; The tragedy of The Countess of Salisbury, a play in which Mr. Barry and Mrs. Dancer displayed great powers of acting, was in a good degree of favour with the town. This was a crime sufficient to rouse the indignation of Goldsmith, who issued forth to see it, and with a determined resolution to consign the play to perdition. He sat out four acts of The Countess of Salisbury with great calmness and seeming temper; but as the plot thickened, and his apprehension began to be terrified with the ideas of blood and slaughter, he got up in a great hurry, saying, loud enough to be heard, Brownrig! Brownrig! by G-. : Goldsmith never wanted literary employment; the booksellers understood the value of his name, and did all they could to excite his industry; and it cannot be denied that they rewarded his labours generously in a few years he wrote three histories of England; the first in two pocket volumes in letters, and another in four volumes octavo: the first an elegant summary of British transactions, and the other an excellent abridgment of Hume, and other copious historians. These books are in every body's hands. The last is a short contraction of four volumes into one duodecimo. For writing these books he obtained £750 or £800. His squabbles with booksellers and publishers were innumerable, his appetites and passions were craving and violent; he loved variety of pleasures, but could not devote himself to industry long enough to purchase them by his writings. Upon every emergency half a dozen projects would present themselves to his mind; these he communicated to the men who were to advance money on the reputation of the author, but the money was generally spent long before the new work was half finished, or perhaps before it was commenced. This circumstance naturally produced expostulation and reproach from one side, which was often returned with anger and vehemence on the other. After much and disagreeable altercation, one bookseller desired to refer the matter in dispute to the Doctor's learned friend, a man of known integrity, and one who would favour no cause but that of justice and truth. Goldsmith consented, and was enraged to find that one author should have so little feeling for another, as to determine a dispute to his disadvantage, in favour of a tradesman. His love of play involved him in many perplexing difficulties, and a thousand anxieties; and yet he had not the resolution to abandon a practice for which his impatience of temper and great unskilfulness rendered him totally unqualified. Though Mr. Garrick did not act his comedy of She Stoops to Conquer, yet, as he was then upon very friendly terms with the author, he presented him with a very humorous prologue, well accommodated to the author's intention of reviving fancy, wit, gaiety, humour, incident, and character, in the place of sentiment and moral preachment. Woodward spoke this whimsical address in mourning, and lamented pathetically over poor dying comedy. To her he says, --A mawkish drab of spurious breed, Who deals in sentimentals, will succeed. In the close of the prologue, the Doctor is recommended as a fit person to revive poor drooping Thalia, with a compliment which hinted, I imagine, at some public transactions, of not dealing in poisonous drugs. She Stoops to Conquer, notwithstanding many improbabilities in the economy of the plot, several farcical situations, and some characters which are rather exaggerated, is a lively and faithful representation of nature; genius presides over every scene of this play; the characters are either new, or varied improvements from other plays. Marlow has a slight resemblance of Charles in the Fop's Fortune, and something more of Lord Hardy in Steele's Funeral; and yet, with a few shades of these parts, he is discriminated from both. Tony Lumpkin is a vigorous improvement of Humphry Gubbins, and a most diverting portrait of ignorance, rusticity, low cunning, and obstinacy. Hardcastle, his wife and daughter, I think, are absolutely new; the language is easy and characteristical; the manners of the times are slightly, but faithfully, represented. the satire is not ostentatiously displayed, but incidentally involved in the business of the play, and the suspense of the audience is artfully kept up to the last. This comedy was very well acted. Hardcastle and Tony Lumpkin were supported in a masterly style by Shuter and Quick; so was Miss Hardcastle by Mrs. Bulkley. Mrs. Green in Mrs. Hardcastle maintained her just title to one of the best comic actresses of the age. Though the money gained by this play amounted to a considerable sum, more especially so to a man who had been educated in straits, and trained in adversity, yet his necessities soon became as craving as ever: to relieve them, he undertook a new History of Greece, and a book of animals, called The History of Animated Nature. The first was to him an easy task, but as he was entirely unacquainted with the world of animals, his friends were anxious for the success of his undertaking. Notwithstanding his utter ignorance of the subject, he has compiled one of the pleasantest and most instructive books in our language; I mean, that it is not only useful to young minds, but entertaining to those who understand the animal creation. Every thing of Goldsmith seems to bear the magical touch of an enchanter; no man took less pains, and yet produced so powerful an effect: the great beauty of his composition consists in a clear, copious, and expressive style. Goldsmith's last work was his poem called Retaliation, which the historian of his life says was written for his own amusement, and that of his friends, who were the subject of it. That he did not live to finish it is to be lamented, for it is supposed he would have introduced more characters. What he has left is so perfect in its kind, that it stands not in need of a revisal. In no part of his works has this author discovered a more nice and critical discernment, or a more perfect knowledge of human nature, than in this poem; with wonderful art he has traced all the leading features of his several portraits, and given with truth the characteristical peculiarities of each: no man is lampooned, and no man is flattered. The occasion we are told to which we owe this admirable poem, was a circumstance of festivity. The literary society to which he belonged proposed to write epitaphs on the Doctor, Mr. Garrick, one of the members, wrote the following fable of Jupiter and Mercury, to provoke Goldsmith to a retaliation. JUPITER AND MERCURY. A FABLE. Here, Hermes, says Jove, who with nectar was mellow, Right and wrong shall be jumbled, much gold and some dross; A great lover of truth, yet a mind turn'd to fictions. Set fire to his head and set fire to his tail. For the joy of each sex on the world I'll bestow it, There never was surely a more finished picture, at full length, given to the world, than this warm character of the incomprehensible and heterogeneous Doctor. And here Doctor Goldsmith's portrait of Mr. Garrick will be introduced with propriety. Here lies David Garrick. Describe me, who can, As an actor, confess'd, without rival to shine; As a wit, if not first, in the very first line; |