holy orders; but this was a measure always repugnant to his inclinations. An unsettled turn of mind, an unquenchable desire of visiting other countries, and perhaps an ingenuous sense of his unfitness for the clerical profession, conspired to disincline him to the church; and though at length he yielded to the pressing solicitations of his uncle and friends, by applying to the bishop for ordination, it is thought he was more pleased than disappointed when rejected by his lordship, on account of his youth. He was now anxious, however, to be employed in some way or other, and when the office of private tutor in the family of a neighbouring gentleman was offered to him, he willingly accepted it. In this situation he remained about a year; but finding the employment much more disagreeable than he had been taught to believe it, and the necessary confinement painfully irksome, he suddenly gave up his charge, procured a good horse, and, with about thirty pounds which he had saved, quitted his friends, and set out nobody knew whither.

As this singular unpremeditated step had been taken without consulting any of his friends, and as no intelligence could be obtained either of himself or the motives which had prompted his departure, his family became much alarmed for his safety, and were justly offended at his conduct. Week after week passed away, and no tidings came of the fugitive. At last, when all hope of his return had been given up, and when they concluded he must have left the country altogether, the family were astonished by his sudden reappearance at his mother's house; safe and sound, to be sure, but not exactly in such good trim as when he had left them. His horse was metamorphosed into a shabby little pony, not worth twenty shillings, and instead of thirty pounds in his pocket, he was without a penny. this occasion the indignation of his mother was strongly expressed; but his brothers and sisters, who were all tenderly attached to him, interfered, and soon effected a reconciliation. Once more reinstated in the good graces of his family, our

On

that he was the best answerer; it being a rule, that not more than one premium should be adjudged to the same person in one year.

1

poet amused them with a detail of his adventures in this last expedition. He premised that he had long felt a strong inclination to visit the New World, but knowing that his friends would throw obstacles in the way of his departure, he had determined to set out unknown to any of them. Intending to embark at Cork, he had gone directly thither, and immediately after he arrived disposed of his horse, and struck a bargain with the captain of a ship bound for North America. For three weeks after his arrival, the wind continued unfavourable for putting to sea, and the vessel remained wind-bound in the harbour. In the mean time, he amused himself by sauntering about the city and its environs, satisfying his curiosity, and examining every object worthy of notice. Having formed some acquaintances by means of the captain, he accompanied a party on an excursion into the country. The idea never occurred to him, that the wind which had blown so perversely a-head during three weeks might change in a single day; he was not less surprised than chagrined, therefore, on his return next morning, to find the vessel gone. This was a death-blow to his scheme of emigration, as his passage-money was already in the pocket of the captain.

Mortified and disappointed, he lingered about Cork, irresolute what to do, until the languishing state of his purse, which was reduced to two guineas, admonished him to make the best of his way home. He accordingly bought a poor little pony, which he called Fiddleback, and found that he had just five shillings left to defray the travelling expenses of himself and his steed. This pittance, however, was rather too scanty for a journey of a hundred and twenty miles, and he was at a loss how to procure a further supply. He at last bethought himself of an old college friend, who lived on the road, not far from Cork, and determined to apply to him for assistance. Having been often pressed by this person to spend a summer at his house, he had the less hesitation in paying him a visit under his present circumstances, and doubted not that be would at once obtain all the aid his situation required. When on the road to the house of his friend, a poor woman with

eight children, whose husband had been thrown into jail for rent, threw herself in his way, and implored relief. The feelings of humanity being ever most easily awakened in Oliver's bosom, he gave her all that remained in his purse, and trusted his own wants to the expected liberality of his old fellow-collegian.

This dear friend, whose promised hospitalities were so securely relied on, received him with much apparent satisfaction, and only appeared anxious to learn the motive which could have prompted this chance visit. Charmed with the seeming cordiality with which he was received, Oliver gave him an artless and honest account of his whole expedition; and did not even conceal the offence which his departure must have given to his friends. His good host listened with profound attention, and appeared to take so much interest in the detail of our poet's adventures, that he was at length induced to disclose the immediate object of his visit. This chanced to be the true touchstone for trying the liberality of so honest a friend. A profound sigh, and querulous declamation on his own infirm state of health, was the only return to his hint for assistance. When pressed a little further, this kind friend drily remarked, that for his part he could not understand how some people got themselves into scrapes; that on any other occasion he would have been happy to accommodate an old comrade, but really he had been lately so very ill, and was, even now, in such a sickly condition, that it was very inconvenient to entertain company of any kind. Besides, he could not well ask a person in health to share in his slops and milk diet. If, however, Mr Goldsmith could think of putting up with the family fare, such as it was, he would be made welcome; at the same time he must apprise him that it might not soon be got ready. The astonishment and dismay of our poet at the conclusion of this speech was sufficiently visible in his lengthened visage. Nothing but the utter emptiness of his purse, and his great distance from home, could have induced him to pocket the insult, or accept so inhospitable an invitation. No better, however, could be made of it in his present circumstances; so, without showing his

chagrin, he good-humouredly partook of a miserable supper of brown bread and butter-milk, served up at a late hour by a miserable-looking old woman, the fit handmaid of so miserable

a master.

Notwithstanding the base colours in which our poet's host had exhibited himself, the former had too much good-nature to harbour resentment. When they met in the morning, therefore, he entered familiarly into conversation, and even condescended to ask what he would advise him to do in his present difficulty. «My dear fellow," said his host, « return home immediately. You can never do without the assistance of your friends; and, if you keep them longer in suspense and alarm, by remaining away, you will only widen the breach which your rashness must have already occasioned, and perhaps induce them to throw you off altogether.» «But," rejoined Oliver, << how am I to get on without money? I told you I had not a shilling left, and it is quite impossible for me to proceed on the journey, unless you should be so obliging as to lend me a guinea for the purpose." Here again his friend's countenance fell. He pleaded his inability to lend, in consequence of having spent all his ready cash during his late illness, interlarding this apology with many sage aphorisms on the disadvantages of borrowing, and the sin of running into debt. «But, my dear fellow," resumed he, «< I'll tell you how you may get over the difficulty. May you not sell the little horse you brought with you last night? The price of it will be sufficient for all your expenses till you arrive among your friends, and, in the mean time, I think I can furnish you with another to help you forward on the journey." Oliver could discover no objection to a plan so feasible, and therefore agreed to it at once; but when he asked for a sight of the steed which was to carry him home, his host, with solemn gravity, drew from under the bed a stout oaken staff, which he presented to him with a grin of self-approbation. Our poor poet now lost all patience, and was just about to snatch it from him, and apply it to his pate, when a loud rap announced a visitor. A person of interesting appearance was immediately afterwards ushered into the room, and, when the usual compliments were

over, Oliver was presented to him by his host, as if nothing had happened, and described as the learned and ingenious young man of whom he had heard so much while at college.

The agreeable manners of this gentleman soon gave an interesting turn to the conversation. Harmony appeared to be once more restored between Oliver and his host, and the stranger invited them both to dine with him the following day. This was not acceded to on the part of the poet, without considerable reluctance; but the gentleman's pressing solicitations prevailed on him to consent. The hospitality and kindness displayed at this person's table was a striking contrast to the penury and meanness exhibited by his fellow-collegian, and Oliver could hardly refrain from making some sarcastic remarks on the difference. The hints on this subject which were occasionally hazarded by the poet, led the gentleman to suspect that the two friends were not on the most cordial terms. He was therefore induced to invite our poet to spend a few days at his house. An invitation of this kind, so opportunely and handsomely given, was a fortunate circumstance for Oliver. He did not hesitate a moment to accept it, and at parting with his dear fellow-collegian, archly recommended to him to take good care of the steed kept at so much expense for the use of his friends; and, of all things, to beware of surfeiting them with a milk diet. To this sarcasm the other only replied by a sneer at the poet's poverty and improvident disposition. Their host being well acquainted with the character of his neighbour, seemed, when Oliver afterwards recounted to him all the circumstances that had taken place, to be more amused than surprised at the detail.

In the house of this new friend Goldsmith experienced the most hospitable entertainment for several days. Two beautiful daughters, as well as the host himself, were emulous in finding amusement for their guest during his stay; and when about to depart, he was offered money to defray the expense of his journey, and a servant to attend him on horseback. The servant and horse he declined, but accepted of a loan of three half-guineas; and with sentiments of the deepest respect and gratitude, took leave of his benevolent host.