man, and his actors from him, had predestined the play to condemnation: when, therefore, toward the conclusion of the first performance, the author expressed some apprehension lest one of the jokes put into the mouth of Tony Lumpkin should not be relished by the audience, the Manager, who had been in fear through the whole piece, replied, "D-n it, Doctor, don't be terrified at a squib; why, we have been sitting these two hours on a barrel of gunpowder." Goldsmith's pride was so hurt at this remark, that the friendship which had till then subsisted between him and Colman was thenceforth annihilated.

The piece had a great run, and its author cleared by the third-nights, and the sale of the copy, upwards of 800l. Dr. Johnson said of it, "That he knew of no comedy for many years that had so much exhilarated an audience, that had answered so much the great end of comedy-the making an audience merry." It certainly added much to the author's reputation, and is still, with his "Good-natured Man," on the list of acting

plays; but it brought on him the envy and malignity of some of his co-temporaries; and in the London Packet of Wednesday, March 24, 1773, printed for T. Evans, in Paternoster-row, appeared the following scurrilous epistle, evidently designed to injure his third-night (being the ninth representation):

16 SIR,

66 TO DR. GOLDSMITH.

"Vous vous noyez en vanité.

"The happy knack which you have learnt of puffing your own compositions, provokes me to come forth. You have not been the editor of newspapers and magazines, not to discover the trick of literary humbug. But the gauze is so thin, that the very foolish part of the world see through it, and discover the Doctor's monkey face and cloven foot. Your poetic vanity is as unpardonable as your personal. Would man believe it, and will woman bear it, to be told, that for hours the great Goldsmith will stand surveying his grotesque Oranhotan's figure in a pier-glass? Was but the lovely H―k as much enamoured, you would not sigh, my gentle swain, in vain. But your vanity is preposterous. How will this same bard of Bedlam ring the changes in praise of Goldy! But what has he to be either proud or vain of?"The Traveller" is a flimsy poem, built upon false principles; principles diametrically opposite to liberty. What is "The Good-natured Man," but a poor, water-gruel, dramatic dose? What is "The Deserted Village," but a

pretty poem of easy numbers, without fancy, dignity, genius, or fire? And pray what may be the last speaking pantomime*, so praised by the Doctor himself, but an incoherent piece of stuff, the figure of a woman with a fish's tail, without plot, incident, or intrigue? We are made to laugh at stale, dull jokes, wherein we mistake pleasantry for wit, and grimace for humour: wherein every scene is unnatural, and inconsistent with the rules, the laws of nature, and of the drama; viz. Two gentlemen come to a man of fortune's house, eat, drink, sleep, &c. and take it for an inn. The one is intended as a lover to the daughter; he talks with her for some hours, and when he sees her again in a different dress, he treats her as a bar-girl, and swears she squinted. He abuses the master of the house, and threatens to kick him out of his own doors. The 'Squire, whom we are told is to be a fool, proves to be the most sensible being of the piece; and he makes out a whole act by bidding his mother lie close behind a bush, persuading her, that his father, her own husband, is a highwayman, and that he is come to cut their throats; and to give his cousin an opportunity to go off, he drives his mother over hedges, ditches, and through ponds. There is not, sweet sucking Johnson, a natural stroke in the whole play, but the young fellow's giving the stolen jewels to the mother, supposing her to be the landlady. That Mr. Colman did no justice to this piece, I honestly allow; that he told all his friends it would be damned, I positively aver; and from such ungenerous insinuations, without a dramatic merit, it rose to public notice; and it is now the ton to go to see it, though I never saw a person, that either liked it or approved

Meaning" she Stoops to Conquer."

it, any more than the absurd plot of the Home's tragedy of Alonzo. Mr. Goldsmith, correct your arrogance, reduce your vanity, and endeavour to believe, as a man, you are of the plainest sort; and as an author, but a mortal piece of mediocrity.

"Brisez le miroir infidele,

"Qui vous cache la verité.

66 TOM TICKLE."

By one of those "d-d good-natured friends" who are described by Sir Fretful Plagiary, the newspaper containing the foregoing offensive letter was eagerly brought to Goldsmith, who otherwise perhaps had never seen or heard of it. Our hero went to the shop brimful of ire, and finding Evans behind his counter, thus addressed him: "You have published a thing in your paper (my name is Goldsmith) reflecting upon a young lady. As for myself, I do not mind it"Evans at this moment stooped down, intending probably to look for a paper, that he might see what the enraged author meant; when Goldsmith, observing his back to present a fair mark for his cane, laid it on lustily. The bibliopolist, however, soon defended himself, and a scuffle ensued, in which

our author got his full share of blows. Dr. Kenrick, who was sitting in Evans's counting-house (and who was strongly suspected to have been the writer of the letter), now came forward, parted the combatants, and sent Goldsmith home in a coach grievously bruised.

This attack upon a man in his own house furnished matter of discussion for some days to the newspapers ; and an action at law was threatened to be brought for the assault; but by the interposition of friends the affair was compromised; and on Wednesday the 31st of March, Goldsmith inserted the following Address in the Daily Advertiser:

66 TO THE PUBLIC.

"LEST it should be supposed that I have been willing to correct in others an abuse of which I have been guilty myself, I beg leave to declare, that in all my life I never wrote, or dictated, a single paragraph, letter, or essay, in a newspaper, except a few moral essays, under the character of a Chinese, about ten years ago, in the Ledger; and a letter, to which I signed my name, in the St. James's Chronicle. If the liberty of the press therefore has been abused, I have had no hand in it.

"I have always considered the press as the protector of our freedom, as a watchful guardian, capable of uniting