in the most homely strains, not without force; but the verses are further deserving notice as having been supposed to impress Goldsmith's mind at an early period with strong commiseration for the state of the peasantry, and to have suggested passages in the "Deserted Village."

*

*

"Thus farmers lived like gentlemen,
Ere lands were raised from five to ten;
Again from ten to three times five,
Then very few could hope to thrive ;
But tugg'd against the rapid stream,

Which drove them back from whence they came;

At length 'twas canted* to a pound,

What tenant then could keep his ground.

"Not knowing which, to stand or fly,

When rent rolls mounted zenith high,
They had their choice to run away,
Or labour for a groat a day.
Now beggar'd and of all bereft,
Are doom'd to starve or live by theft ;
Take to the mountains or the roads,
When banished from their old abodes;
Their native soil were forced to quit,
So Irish landlords thought it fit;
Who without ceremony or rout,

For their improvements turned them out;
Embracing still the highest bidder,

Inviting all ye nations hither,

Encouraging all strollers, caitiffs,
Or any other but the natives.

"Now wool is low and mutton cheap,

Poor graziers can no profit reap.
Alas! you hear them now conplain
Of heavy rents and little gain;
Grown sick of bargains got by cant,
Must be in time reduced to want ;
How many villages they razed,
How many parishes laid waste,

To fatten bullocks, sheep, and cows,
When scarce one parish has two ploughs;
And were it not for foreign wheat,

We now should want the bread we eat.
Their flocks do range on every plain,
That once produced all kind of grain,
Depopulating every village,

Where we had husbandry and tillage;
Fat bacon, poultry, and good bread,
By which the poor were daily fed.
The landlords, then, at every gale,
Besides their rent, got nappy ale,
A hearty welcome and good cheer,
With rent well paid them twice a year;
But now the case is quite reversed,
The tenants every day distress'd;
Instead of living well and thriving,

There's nothing now but leading, driving—
The lands are all monopolized,

The tenants rack'd and sacrificed;

Whole colonies to shun the fate
Of being oppress'd at such a rate,

• Auctioned.

By tyrants who still raise their rent,
Sail'd to the Western continent:

Rather than live at home like slaves,

They trust themselves to winds and waves."

The censure of absentees has a variety of invective intermixed with some humour; but the following may suffice as a specimen of the former :

"Our squires of late through Europe roam,
Are two well-bred to live at home;

Are not content with Dublin College,
But range abroad for greater knowledge;
To strut in velvets and brocades,

At balls and plays and masquerades ;

To have their rent their chiefest care is,

In bills to London and to Paris.

Their education is so nice,

They know all chances on the dice;
Excepting when it is their fate

To throw away a good estate,

Then does the squire with empty purse
Rail at ill fortune with a curse.

These absentees we here describe

Are mostly of our Irish tribe,

Who live in luxury and pleasure,

And throw away their time and treasure ;
Cause poverty and devastation,
And sink the credit of the nation.

Their mansions moulder quite away,
And run to ruin and decay,

Left like a desert wild and waste,
Without the track of man or beast;

Where wild fowl may with safety rest,
At every gate may build a nest;

Where grass or weeds on pavements grow,
And every year is fit to mow,

No smoke from chimneys does ascend,

Nor entertainment for a friend;

Nor sign of drink, or smell of meat,

For human creatures there to eat.

*

One of the greatest offences of the more opulent classes in Ireland in the eyes of the peasantry at that time, was any seeming want of the duties of hospitality; nor has the feeling, though diminished, passed away. By their interpretation, common to more rude communities, a man of rank or wealth was considered almost literally rather the steward than proprietor of his property; held in trust as much for the benefit of his relatives, neighbours, and adherents, as for his own family; and almost the first point noticed in the character of an Irish squire by a peasant of the present day is whether he is or is not a hard (or close) man. The opening scenes in the Vicar of Wakefield, and many other passages in Goldsmith, dwell upon the duties of hospitality.

CHAPTER II.

Adventure at Ardagh.-Rev. Mr. Contarine.-Entry into Trinity College, Dublin. -Letter of the Rev. Dr. Wilson, his tutor.-Ballad writing.

His school vacations were frequently spent in the town of Ballymahon, where, many years afterwards, a few of his boyish tricks were remembered.

"It is now about forty years," says the Rev. John Graham in a communication to the present writer," since one of the directors of the sports of Ballymahon, Jack Fitzsimmons, an old man, who had experienced many vicissitudes and then kept the ball court, frequently amused us with stories of, as he termed him and as he was usually called when a boy, Noll Goldsmith. One of them, I remember, related to a depredation on the orchard of Tirlicken, adjoining the old mansion of that name now in ruins, then the property and residence of part of Lord Annaly's family. In this adventure, which he detailed minutely, both were engaged: detection, however, either at the moment or soon afterwards, ensued; and, had it not been for the respectability of Goldsmith's connexions, which secured immunity also to his companions, the consequences might have been unpleasant. This story, although it may seem like a different version of the deer-stealing of Shakspeare, I had no reason to disbelieve; the matter is common enough to most school-boys in the country; and poor Jack knew no more of the history of Shakspeare than of Homer. Several other notices of the poet from the same source have now escaped my recollection; the impression, however, remains, that he was as thoughtless as other boys of the same age, and as easily led into scrapes by his companions."

A

An amusing adventure, which occurred in the last journey from home to Edgeworthstown school, is believed to have given birth to the chief incident in "She Stoops to Conquer." Having set off on horseback, there being then and indeed now no regular wheeled conveyance thither from Ballymahon, he loitered on the road, amusing himself by viewing the neighbouring gentlemen's seats. friend had furnished him with a guinea; and the desire, perhaps, of spending it in (to a school-boy) the most independent manner at an inn, tended to slacken his diligence on the road. Night overtook him in the small town of Ardagh, about half way on his journey. Inquiring for the best house in the place, meaning the best inn, he chanced to address, as is said, a person named Cornelius Kelly, who boasted of having taught fencing to the Marquis of Granby, and was then domesticated in the house of Mr. Featherstone, a gentleman of fortune in the town. He was known as a notorious wag;

and willing to play off a trick upon one whom he no doubt discovered to be a swaggering school-boy, directed him to the house of his patron.

Suspecting no deception, Oliver proceeded as directed; gave authoritative orders about the care of his horse; and, being thence conceived by the servants to be an expected guest, was ushered into the presence of their master, who immediately discovered the mistake. Being, however, a man of humour, and willing to enjoy an evening's amusement with a boy under the influence of so unusual a blunder, he encouraged it, particularly when, by the communicative disposition of the guest, it was found that he was the son of an old acquaintance on his way to school. Nothing occurred to undeceive the self-importance of the youth, fortified by the possession of a sum he did not often possess; wine was therefore ordered in addition to a good supper, and the supposed landlord, his wife and daughters were invited to partake of it. On retiring for the night, a hot cake was ordered for breakfast the following morning; nor was it until preparing to quit the house next day, that he discovered he had been entertained in a private family.

This story like the plot of his comedy, has been thought improbable; and were it told of a person in mature life, or mixing much in the world, there might be, under common circumstances, ground for disbelief. But when we consider the age of Goldsmith at the time, his openness to deception at all times, that the time was night, while positive information described the house as an inn, and that the submission of the servants and the humour of the master confirmed the original idea; moreover, when we consider that the house, however good, bore no particular mark of distinction, and that Irish landlords then, like those of America now, were inquisitive and familiar in their manners, and believed that their guests were under more obligations to them than they to their guests, it is easy to conceive how a school-boy should be led in the error. Hodson heard the story early in life, which could scarcely have been told without some foundation; and the late Sir Thomas Featherstone, whose grandfather was the supposed landlord, remembered, when questioned, something of the anecdote.

Mrs.

In connexion with his play, the story illustrates another peculiarity which belongs to Goldsmith more than to any other writer of his day; this was to draw upon his own personal and family history for many of the facts and characters found in his writings. These, when minutely traced, show how largely he has written from himself, from his recollections, experience, and feelings; and to this is owing much of that truth, vigour, and freshness, of which we all feel the presence and the power. Thus, to his poems, novel, plays, Citizen of the World, and detached essays, actual life furnished most of the scenes and persons; not only his own character and adventures, but those of nearly all his relatives, were taxed for the amusement of the reader: so that when invention failed, he had only to draw upon his

From the Rev. John Graham.

memory.

The recollection of this fact may serve to corroborate the truth of the preceding story having really formed the groundwork of the play.

An event now occurred, which though under other circumstances gratifying, threatened in its consequences to interfere with the design of sending him to college by still further narrowing his father's resources. This was the private marriage of his elder sister, Catherine, with Mr. Daniel Hodson, the son of a gentleman of good property, residing at St. John's near Athlone. To her the union promised to be advantageous; while to her husband, in consequence of her want of fortune, it was thought the reverse. He was besides

young, though not a boy; and being at the moment, or shortly before, a pupil of her brother Henry for the completion of his studies, the match looked so much like a breach of confidence and honour on the part of the family, although unknown to its members, as to give rise to extreme indignation on the part of her father. The tradition is, that in the first transports of anger he uttered a wish that as she had acted like an undutiful child in causing suspicion to be cast on his integrity of character, she might never have one of her own to make a similar return to parental care; in short, that she might die childless. So harsh and hasty a sentence, foreign to his general character for good nature, was soon recalled; neither was the purport of the prayer strictly fulfilled, as she bore three children; but, in the superstitious feeling of the county, it was supposed to be not without a certain effect, as they all, though her son left a numerous offspring, died before her.

66

To remove all suspicion of being privy to the act of his daughter, Mr. Goldsmith, influenced by the highest sense of honour, made a sacrifice detrimental to the interests of the other members of his family. He entered into a legal engagement (Sep. 7. 1744), " to pay to Daniel Hodson, Esq., of St. John's, Roscommon, 400l., as the marriage-portion of his daughter Catherine, then the wife of the said Daniel Hodson." To raise this sum, with such limited means as he possessed, was impossible; but in lieu of it, the lands rented from Mr. Newstead, then worth about 40l. per annum, in addition to 127. per annum of tithes, were assigned, until the money should be paid.† These sums, which seem now apparently small, were in that period and country considerable; much more than the rector of Kilkenny West could afford. His living, though at present worth about 350%. per annum, did not then amount to 2001. The sacrifice consequently was great; it evinced all the sincerity of an honest, but not the consideration of a prudent man; and though satisfactory to his pride, crippled the means of providing for the remainder of his children. The immediate offect of this reduction of income fell more heavily

* From the information of one of her granddaughters to the Rev. Mr. Graham. + See a draft of this agreement in the registry of the Four Courts, Dublin, B. 117. p. 503. No. 81604. For assistance in the search for this and other legal documents connected with the Goldsmith family, I am indebted to Mr. Thomas Colhoun, of Dublin, whose professional knowledge made more easy what I should otherwise have found a work of time and labour.