LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. v& 



had died a very extraordinary sudden death. "Not at all, Sir," said Goldsmith; "a very 

 common case; it died of too many Doctors." 



But Goldsmith, soon disgusted with such trivial pursuits, applied himself to nobler subjects, 

 and produced a highly finished Poem, called The Deserted Village. The bookseller gave 

 him a note of a hundred guineas for the copy, which Goldsmith returned, saying to a friend, 

 " It is too much ; it is more than the honest bookseller can afford, or the piece is worth." 

 He estimated the value according to the following computation; " That it was near five shil- 

 lings a couplet, which was more than any bookseller could afford, or, indeed, anv modern poe- 

 try was worth :" but the sale was so rapid, that the bookseller, with the greatest pleasure, soon 

 paid him the hundred guineas, with acknowledgment for the generosity he had evinced upon 

 the occasion. . 



The author addresses this Poem to his friend Sir Joshua Reynolds. He writes in the cha- 

 racter of a native of a country village, to which he gives the name of Auburn, and which he 

 pathetically addresses. He then proceeds to contrast the innocence and happiness of a sim- 

 ple and a natural state with the miseries and vices that have been introduced by polished life, 

 and gives the following beautiful apostrophe to retirement: 



O blest retirement ! friend to life's decline, 

 Retreats from care, that never must be mine ; 

 How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, 

 A youth of labour with an age of ease ; 

 Who quits a world where strong temptations try, 

 And, since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly ! 

 For him no wretches, born to work and weep, 

 Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep ; 



No surly porter stands in guilty state, 

 To spurn imploring famine from the gaie ; 

 But on he moves to meet his latter end, 

 Angels around befriending virtue's friend ; 

 Sinks to the grave with unperceiv'd decay, 

 While resignation gently slopes the way ; 

 And all his prospects brightening to the last, 

 His heaven commences ere the world be past !' 



The description of the parish priest (probably intended for a character of his brother 

 Henry) would have done honour to any poet of any age. In this description the simile of the 

 bird teaching her young to fly, and of the mountain that rises above the storm, are not easily 

 to be paralleled. The rest of the poem consists of the character of the village school-master, 

 and a description of the village ale-house; both drawn with admirable propriety and force; 

 a descant on the mischiefs of luxury and wealth; the variety of artificial pleasures; the mise- 

 ries of those who, for want of employment at home, are driven to settle new colonies abroad ; 

 and concludes with the following beautiful apostrophe to poetry: 



'.nd thou, sweet poetry ! thou loveliest maid, 

 (till first to fly where sensual jnys invade ; 

 Jnfit, in these degenerate times of shame, 

 To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame ; 

 Dear charming nymph ! neglected and decried, 



My shame in crowds, my solitary pride ; 

 Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, 

 That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so; 

 Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel, 

 Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well, 



The Doctor did not reap a profit from his poetical labours equal to those of his prose. The 



