A POET, whom truth and nature seemed to have inspired, a miscellaneous writer of great taste, and an historian of no mean celebrity, was born November 29th, 1728, in the obscure village of Pallice, situated on the northern banks of the new ferry, in the parish of Fores, county of Longford. Dr. Goldsmith’s family had been long settled in Ireland, and one branch of it, Dr. Isaac Goldsmith, was dean of Cork about the year 1730. The poet’s father, was the Rev. Charles Goldsmith, a native of the county z of Roscommon; he was a clergyman of the establishment, and was educated at Dublin College. He resided at Pallice at the time his son Oliver was born, and after-wards held the living of Kilkenny-West, in the county of Westmeath, and from thence was promoted to a benefice in the county of Roscommon. By his wife Anne, the daughter of the Rev. Oliver Jones, master of the diocesan school of Elphin, he had five sons and two daughters; Henry, his eldest son, went into the church, and is the gentleman to whom our poet dedicated his {182} Traveller; Oliver was the second son, and is supposed td have faithfully represented his father in the Village Preacher, in the Deserted Village. He was originally intended for some mercantile occupation, as his father found his income already too trifling to balance the expenses incurred by bestowing on his eldest son a literary and classical education: With this view he was instructed in reading, writing, and arithmetic, at a common day- school, the master of which was an old soldier, who had served in several campaigns during Queen Anne’s wan as quarter-master in the detachment of the army that was sent to Spain, and who entertained his pupil with wondrous tales of his perilous encounters in the imminent deadly breach and is suspected to have implanted in his pupil’s breast somewhat of that roving and unsettled spirit, which burst forth at so early a period of his life, and which neither age nor circumstances could entirely subdue. It is related, that at the early age of eight years, he made several poetical attempts, and by the inequalities (or rather inconsistencies) of his temper and conduct, betrayed a disposition infinitely more favourable to the irregular flights of genius, than the systematic drudgery of business. This, after a short time becoming somewhat obvious, his friends, who at first pleaded warmly for his being sent to the university, now determined to contribute towards the expense; and, by their assistance^ he was placed at a reputable school where he might be qualified to enter the college with all the advantages of preparatory learning. Ou the 11th of June, 1744, he was admitted a sizer of Trinity College, Dublin, under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. Welder, one of the fellows, who unluckily was a man of violent temper and incontrollable passions, and consequently unfit to be the tutor of a youth who was gifted in no small degree, with simplicity, thoughtlessness, and volatility. Oliver, notwithstanding, made some progress (although slow) in academical studies, as, in 1747, he was elected one of the exhibitioners on Erasmus Smyth’s foundation; and, in 1749, was admitted {183} to the degree of bachelor of. arts. About this period he left college, an event which was occasioned by improvidence on his part, and severity on that of his tutor. He had, it seems, invited a party of young friends of both sexes to a supper and ball in his rooms, which coming to the knowledge of his tutor, the latter entered the place in the midst of their hilarity, and after abusing the whole company, proceeded to inflict manual chastisement on Goldsmith in their presence; this event had such an effect on the mind of Oliver, that be determined on quit- * ting a place where he had suffered so greet a mortification. Accordingly, he immediately disposed of his books and clothes, and bidding adieu for ever to the college and its inmates, stepped boldly forth into the wide world, prepared to take the first path that Providence should point out. He wandered up and down the streets considering what was to be his destination, till his money was completely exhausted. However, with a solitary shilling in his pocket, he at last left Dublin; this sum, smell as it was, be contrived to make last him three days, and then was obliged to part with his clothes; in short, to BO dreadful an extremity was he reduced, that he confessed, a handful of grey peas given him at a wake, appeared to him the most delicious meal he had ever made. After a series of adventures as numberless as they were strange, be by some means contrived to make his brother acquainted with his situation; who, after having clothed him, carried him back to college, and effected at the same time a reconciliation between him and his tutor, which it may be supposed, was neither cordial nor durable. Soon after this, from the repeated ill treatment be received, he fell into a despondence of mind, and a total carelessness about his studies and pursuits, in consequence of which, he neither obtained a scholarship, or became a candidate for the premiums. Not long after this period diis father died, and his friends wished him to prepare for holy orders; to this, however, he unreservedly declared his dislike, and was recommended as tutor in a private fa-{184}mily, where finding himself uncomfortable, he once more left the country, u and its sweet fields, with about thirty pounds in his pocket. However, after an absence of about six weeks or two months, he returned to his mother’s bouse, perfectly pennyless, having expended the whole in a series of extraordinary adventures, for an account of which, the reader is referred to the life prefixed to his works. His uncle, the Rev. Thomas Contarine, now undertook to send him to London for the purpose of studying the law at the Temple; but while at Dublin, on his way to England, he was tempted to play with a sharper, who stripped him of fifty pounds, with which the liberality of his uncle had furnished him for his journey. He returned, and again received forgiveness; his friends again changed their opinions as to his future destination, and physic was at length finally fixed on. He now departed for Edinburgh, where he arrived in the latter part of 1752, and formally, indeed, attended the lectures of Dr. Monro, and the other medical professors; but his studies were neither regular nor profound. There was always something which he preferred to stated application; he became fond of dissipated company, and distinguished himself among his fellow-students, as a social companion and a man of humour, and this, with his readiness to administer to the wants of whoever asked him, kept him constantly poor. After having gone through the usual course of lectures* in the commencement of 1754, he departed from Edinburgh; an event which was probably hastened by hh having become security for a debt due by a fellow-student to one Barclay, a tailor. He hastened to Sunderland; but on his arrival there, was arrested, and, but for the friendship of Mr. Lauchlan Maclean, and Dr. Sleigh, he must have continued in gaol.

He now embarked for Bourdeaux, on board a vessel called the St. Andrews, in which, as an inducement, be was told that there were six other passengers, gentlemen of information and social manners. They had been but {185} two days at sea, when a storm drove them into Newcastle upon Tyne, where the passengers landed to refresh after the fatigue of their voyage. They were sitting very merrily together, when a file of grenadiers entered with fixed bayonets, and put them under arrest. Goldsmith’s fellow passengers, it appeared, had been into Scotland to enlist soldiers for Louis XV. It was in vain that he protested his innocence; he was conveyed with the others to prison, where he was detained a fortnight, and even then with difficulty obtained his liberation. Meanwhile the vessel had sailed; a fortunate, though provoking circumstance for our poet: she was wrecked at the mouth of the Garonne, and every soul on board perished.

By a vessel then on the point of sailing, he arrived at Rotterdam in nine days, whence he proceeded to Leyden. Here he resided about a year, studying anatomy under the celebrated Albinus, and chemistry under Gambius; but a propensity for gaming, which he had unfortunately contracted, plunged him into continual difficulties. So little, indeed, was he aware of the value of money, that even the sum which he borrowed to enable him to leave Holland, was expended on some costly Dutch flower roots, intended as a present to his uncle; and he is believed to have set out upon his travels with only one clean shirt, and no money in his pocket. He bad, however, a knack at hoping; and, in a situation in which any other individual would have laid his account with starving, he undertook the tour of Europe.

It is generally understood, that in the History of a Philosophic Vagabond, (Vicar of Wakefield, chapter 20,) he has related many of his own adventures. He played tolerably well on the German flute, which from an amusement became at times the means of his subsistence. Whenever I approached a peasant’s house, towards night-fall, says he, I played one of my most merry tunes, and that generally procured me not only a lodging but subsistence for the next day; but, in truth, his constant expression, I must own, whenever I attempted to {187} entertain persons of a higher rank, they always thought my performance odious, and never made me any retorn for my endeavours to please them. His learning also, procured him a hospitable reception at most of the religious houses he visited; and in this precarious way of existence he arrived in Switzerland, where he first cultivated his poetical talent with any great effect, having dis* patched from hence the original sketch of his delightful epistle, the Traveller, to his brother Henry. And the circumstances described in the pathetic exordium of this, beautiful poem -

“Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow”

were doubtless frequently and severely felt by him doling his excursion, though the vigour of his constitution enabled him to resist the fatigues of his pedestrian travel and the inclemency of the weather; and his mind received much gratification from the various scenes of nature, and the diversities of the human mind, which continually presented themselves.

The account which has generally been received of his having engaged as travelling tutor to a young miser, in now suspected to have been too hastily adopted from the source above mentioned. At Padua he remained about six months, where he probably obtained the degree of M. B. though some are of opinion, that he took that degree at Louvain. After visiting the northern part of Italy, he returned on foot through France, and landed at Dover in 1756.

His pecuniary resources were so exhausted at his arrival in London, that his whole stock of cash amounted only to a few halfpence. He with some difficulty obtained a situation as an usher, in which he remained for a short time, quitting it in disgust; an highly painted account of the mortifications he endured, is to be met with in the Philosophic Vagabond; and several observations in his Essay on Schools, appear to have been the result off personal experience, and dictated by personal resentment. He next applied to several apothecaries, in hopes of {186} obtaining a situation as an assistant; but his accent, and the uncouthness of his appearance, rendered him rather, an object of ridicule than of pity to most of the faculty. A chemist, however near Fish-street-hill, struck with his forlorn condition, and the simplicity of his manner, took him into his laboratory, where he continued until he discovered that his old friend Dr. Sleigh, was in town. That gentleman received him with the warmest affection, and liberally invited him to share his purse, encouraging him to Commence practitioner, which be did at Bankside, and afterwards, in or near the Temple. His success as a physician appears to have been but small, for he used to say, that he had abundance of patients, but very few fees. Some addition, however, to his income, he now began to derive from his pen; and be appears to have been for a while, corrector of the press to the celebrated Samuel Richardson.

About this time be renewed his acquaintance with Dr. Milner, whom he had known at Edinburgh, and that gentleman proposed to him to superintend his father’s, the Rev. Dr. John Milner’s school, at Peckham, who was confined by illness. To this he consented; and on the Doctor’s recovery, he testified his gratitude to Goldsmith for his assistance, by procuring for him an appointment as physician to one of the East India Company’s factories. To furnish himself with the necessary supplies for the voyage, he now circulated proposals to print by subscription, “The present State of Polite Literature in Europe”; but whatever was the success of this, he appears to have given up his appointment, and to have still continued with Dr. Milner. About the same time he published, what be terms a catchpenny “Life of Voltaire”; and he also sold to Mr. Edward Dilly, for twenty guineas, The “Memoire of a Protestant condemned to the Gallies of France for his Religion. Written by himself. Translated from the Original, just published at the Hague, by James Willington.”

Towards the latter end of 1758, Goldsmith happened {188} to dine at Dr. Milner’s table with Mr. Ralph Griffiths, the proprietor of the Monthly Review, who invited him to write articles of criticism for that respectable publication. The terms of this engagement were a liberal salary, together with his board and lodging, which were secured to him for a year by a written agreement. In this capacity, however, he continued only seven or eight months, the constant drudgery to which it confined him not agreeing with the poet’s disposition, who declared, that be wrote for his employer every day from nine o clock till two. He now took a miserable apartment in Green Arbour-court, Little Old Bailey, amidst the dwellings of indigence; and in this wretched hovel completed his “Inquiry into the present State of Polite Literature in Europe”, which was published in 1759, by Dodsley. This work was well received, and in the following October, he commenced a weekly publication, “The Bee”, but which terminated at the eighth number.

Some articles which he contributed about this time to the Critical Review, introduced him to the acquaintance of Dr. Smollett, then editor of the British Magazine; and for that work Goldsmith wrote most of those “Essays,” which were afterwards collected and published in a separate volume. Smollett also introduced him to Mr. Newberry, by whom be was engaged at a salary of £100 a year, to write for the Public Ledger a series of periodical essays. These he termed “Chinese Letters” and they were afterwards collected and published in two volumes, under the tide of “The Citizen of the World.” The liberality of his engagement with Newberry now induced him to desert his humble apartment in Green Arbour-court, and to hire decent lodgings in Wine Office-court, Fleet-street, where he finished his excellent novel, “The Vicar of Wakefield.” But such was his thoughtless dissipation, that he was in continual apprehensions of arrest, which at length took place, for arrears of rent. Under these circumstances, poor Goldsmith summoned resolution to send a message to Dr. Johnson, with whom he had lately formed an {189} acquaintance, stating, that he was in great distress, and begging that he would come to him as soon as possible. Johnson sent him a guinea, and promised to follow almost immediately; and on his arrival, found Goldsmith in a violent passion with his landlady/but consoling himself as well as he could with a bottle of Madeira, to the purchase of which he had already devoted a part of his friend’s liberal present. Johnson immediately corked the bottle, and desired Goldsmith to be calm and consider in what way he could extricate himself from his troubles; on this he produced his novel. Johnson saw its merits, and hurried away with it to Newberry, who immediately gave £60 for it, with which Goldsmith paid his landlady, loading her at the same time with many invectives. In the purchase of this novel, Newberry appears rather to have been actuated by a feeling of benevolence towards its author, than under any idea of profits by its publication, as he retained the manuscript unpublished for nearly three years.

Goldsmith’s connection with Newberry now became a source of constant supply to him. Early in 1763, he removed to lodgings at Canonbury House, Islington, where he compiled several works for that gentleman; among which were “The Art of Poetry”; a “Life of Nash”; and a “History of England, in a Series of Letters from a Nobleman to his Son” which latter publication was for a long time attributed to George, Lord Lyttleton, and by many, to Charles, Earl of Orrery.

In the following year, he took chambers on the upper story of the library staircase in the Inner Temple, and began to live in a genteel style; though his general merits as an author were little known, except among the booksellers, till 1765, when he published his poem “The Traveller”, which had obtained high commendation from Dr. Johnson. Such, however, was Goldsmith’s diffidence, that though he had completed it some years before, he had not courage to publish it till repeatedly urged to it by Johnson. This at once established his fame; he was {190} elected one of the earliest members of the Literary Club, which had just been instituted by Johnson, Garrick, Burke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, &c. and he was introduced to the favourable acquaintance of several persons of superior rank and talents. The outline of this poem had been formed in Switzerland; but he had polished it with great care and attention prior to its publication. His roving disposition, however, had not yet deserted him. He had for some time been meditating on a design of penetrating into the interior of Asia, and investigating the remains of ancient learning, grandeur, and manners; and he had applied to Lord Bute for a salary to enable him to execute his plan. His application passed unnoticed, for he was then unknown; and after his publication of the Traveller, although he sometimes talked of this project, he appears to have entirely relinquished it. Of all men, said Dr. Johnson, Goldsmith is the most unfit to go out on such an inquiry; for he is utterly ignorant of such arts as we already possess, and consequently would not know what would be an accession to our present stock of mechanical knowledge; he would bring home a grinding barrow, and think that he had furnished a wonderful improvement.”

Among other noblemen to whose acquaintance this poem introduced our author, was Lord Nugent, afterwards Earl of Clare, by whose unsolicited friendship, he obtained an introduction to the Earl of Northumberland, then lord-lieutenant of Ireland. “I was invited, ” says Goldsmith, “to wait upon the Duke, in consequence of the satisfaction he had received from the perusal of one of my productions. I dressed myself in the best manner I could; and, after studying some compliments I thought necessary on such an occasion, proceeded on to Northumberland House, and acquainted the servants that I had particular business with his grace. They shewed me into an anti-chamber, where, after waiting some time, a gentleman very elegantly dressed, made his appearance: taking him for the Duke, I delivered all the fine things I had {191} composed in order to compliment him on the honour he had done to me; when to my great astonishment he told me that I had mistaken him for his master, who would see me immediately. At that instant the Duke came into the apartment, and I was so confounded on the occasion, that I wanted words, barely sufficient to express the sense I entertained of the Duke’s politeness, and went away exceedingly chagrined at the blunder I had committed.” Such is the Doctor’s own account of the interview; Sir John Hawkins, however, relates, that when the lord-lieutenant said, he should be glad to do him any kindness; Goldsmith answered, that “he had a brother in Ireland a clergyman, that stood in need of help; as for himself, he had no dependence on the promise of great men; he looked to the booksellers; they were his best friends, and he was not inclined to forsake them for others. ”. This was very characteristic of our author, who, as Sir John Hawkins adds, “was an idiot in the affairs of the world”; an epithet peculiarly harsh on such an occasion, when his affection for his brother, and his grateful remembrance of his former kindness to him, prompted him to endeavour to make him a suitable return by transferring his lordship’s favour and patronage to his benefit.

The following anecdote, though resting perhaps on an insufficient authority, is worthy of record. At the time of this visit, Goldsmith was much embarrassed in his pecuniary concerns, but vain of the honour done him, was continually mentioning it. One of those ingenious executors of the law, a bailiff, who had a writ against him, determined to turn this circumstance to his own advantage. He wrote him a letter, that he was steward to a nobleman, who was charmed with reading his last production, and had ordered him to desire the Doctor to appoint a place where he might have the honour of meeting him to conduct him to his lordship. The vanity of poor Goldsmith immediately swallowed the bait. He appointed the British Coffee-house, to which he was accompanied by his friend Mr. Hamilton, printer, of the {192} Critical Review, who in vain remonstrated on the singularity of the application. On entering the coffee-room, the bailiff paid his respects to him, and desired that he might have the honour of immediately attending him. They had scarcely entered Pall-Mall, in their way to his lordship, when the bailiff produced his writ. Mr. Hamilton generously paid the amount, and redeemed the Doctor from his captivity.

In 1765, he also published his beautifully simple and pathetic ballad of “The Hermit” and in the following year, his “Vicar of Wakefield,” which had lain in unmerited neglect in the hands of Mr. Newberry, was first printed; the established reputation of its author, now recommending it to that general perusal which it merited, and which it still claims from every reader of genuine simplicity and humour.
His reputation being now fully established as a novelist, a poet, and a critic, he turned his thoughts to the Drama, and composed his comedy, “The Good-Natured Man,” which he at first offered to Garrick, who, after a long fluctuation between doubt and encouragement finally rejected it. It was therefore taken to Covent Garden, where it was accepted by Mr. Colman, and presented first time, on January 29th, 1768. This piece kept possession of the stage for nine nights, but did not meet with that encouragement and applause which his friends had expected. His profits, however, together with the sale of the copyright, produced him £500 with which, and some money reserved from the sale of his “Roman History”, he was enabled to purchase and furnish elegantly, a spacious set of chambers on the first floor, at No. 2, Brickcourt, Middle Temple.

His pen was now frequently employed on introductions and prefaces to books compiled by others, as Guthrie’s “History of the World”, and Dr. Brooks’s “System of Natural History”. In his preface to this latter work, he so far excelled its author in the graces of a captivating style, that the bookseller engaged him to write a “History {195} of the Earth, and Animated Nature” which he executed with much elegance, but no very deep knowledge of his subject. He also drew up a “Life of Dr. Parnell” prefixed to an edition of his poems, which afforded Dr. Johnson an opportunity of paying an affectionate tribute to his memory in his Life of Parnell, in the English poets. He was also engaged by the booksellers in many compilations; in one of which, by some unaccountable inadvertence, he had nearly compromised his character as an author of taste and morality. Mr. Griffin the bookseller, of Catherine-street, had desired him to make a selection of classical English Tales, for the use of boarding schools, in which he marked for the printer, one of the most indecent tales of Prior. His biographer adds, “without reading it.” This, however, could not be the case, as it is introduced by a criticism.

In 1769, he produced his elegant poem “The Deserted Village” which he finished with the greatest care and attention previous to its publication. How much it added to his reputation need scarcely be mentioned. A curious circumstance, however, relative to its publication, is highly interesting, as it evinces the peculiar simplicity and honesty of his character. Mr. Griffin had given him a note of one hundred guineas for the copy; a friend of Goldsmith’s to whom he mentioned it, observed, that it was a large sum for so short a poem; “In truth, ” replied Goldsmith, “I think so too; it is near five shillings a couplet, which is much more than the honest man can afford, and indeed, more than any modern poetry is worth. I have not been easy since I received it; I will go back and return him his note;” which he actually did. The sale, however, was so rapid, that the bookseller soon paid him the hundred guineas, with proper acknowledgments for the generosity of his conduct.

At the establishment of the Royal Academy of painting, in 1770, his friend Sir Joshua Reynolds, procured for him the professorship of ancient history; an honorary distinction, attended neither with emolument nor trouble,{196} but which entitled him to a seat at some of the meeting! of the society. At one of the dinners of the academicians, the Earl of Lisburne is said to have lamented to Goldsmith that he should neglect the Muses, to compile histories, and write novels, instead of penning poetry, with which be was sure to charm his readers. “My lord, ” replied Goldsmith, “in courting the Muses, 1 should starve; but by my other labours I eat, drink, wear good clothes, and enjoy the luxuries of life.”

The commencement of 1773, produced another dramatic effort of our author, in a comedy, entitled, “She Stoops to Conquer”.* During the last rehearsal, on the Doctor’s objecting to the improbability that Mrs. Hardcastle should believe she was at a distance from home, when actually in her own garden; Colman, with great keenness, replied, “Psha, my dear Doctor, do not be fearful of squibs, when we have been sitting almost these two hours on a barrel of gunpowder.” Contrary, however, to the manager’s expectation, the piece was received with “unbounded applause”; and Goldsmith never forgave the severity of Colman’s observation.

The success of this comedy, the profits of which produced to our author £850 brought on him the envy and malignity of some of his contemporaries. A scurrilous letter was inserted in the London Packet of March Mlh, 1773, reflecting on his personal insignificance, and loading with ignominious terms his most beautiful productions. By the kindness of some friend, the letter in question was shewn to Goldsmith, who, highly indignant, immediately hastened to the publisher’s, Mr. Evens, in Paternoster-row, and finding him behind his counter, dins addressed him: You have published a thing in your {195}

* The plot of this comedy is said to have been suggested to Goldsmith, by an adventure which occurred to himself in his youth, at Ardagh, in the county of Longford, when he mistook the house of Sir Thomas Fetherington (grandfather of the present Sir Thomas Fetherston,) for an inn; having been directed to it by a humorous fencing master, named Cornelius Kelly, once the instructor of the celebrated Marquis of Granby.

paper, (my name it Goldsmith,) reflecting upon a young lady. As for myself, I do not mind it. ” Evans, at this moment, stooped down to examine a file for the paper referred to, when Goldsmith, observing his back to present a fair mark for his cane, laid it on lustily. Evans, as soon as he could recover himself from the surprise caused by this sudden attack, defended himself, and a scuffle ensued, in which Goldsmith received considerable injury. Dr. Kenrick, who was sitting in Evans’s counting-house, (and who was strongly suspected to have been the writer of the offensive letter,) now came forward and separated the combatants, and Goldsmith was sent home in a coach, grievously bruised. This foolish quarrel afforded considerable sport for the newspapers for some days, and an action at law was threatened. By the interposition, however, of some friends, the affair was finally compromised, and on March 31st, an address to the public inserted by Goldsmith in the Daily Advertiser, put an end to the affair.

In the following year, he published his “History of the Earth and Animated Nature”. This was one of his latest publications, and be received £850 for the copy; and during the time he was engaged in this undertaking, be had received also the profits of “She Stoops to Conquer, which amounted to the same sum. His biographer, however, informs us, be was so liberal in his donations, and profuse in his disbursements; he was unfortunately so attached to the pernicious practice of gaming; and from his unsealed habits of life, his supplies being precarious and uncertain; he had been so little accustomed to regulate his expenses by any system of economy, that his debts far exceeded his resources; and be was obliged to take up money in advance from the managers of the two theatres for comedies which he engaged to furnish to each, and from the booksellers, for publications which he was to finish for the press. All these engagements he fully intended, and doubtless would have been able, to fulfil with the strictest honour, as be had done on former occasions {195} in similar exigencies; but his premature death unhappily prevented the execution of his plans, and gave occasion to malignity to impute those failures to deliberate intention, which were merely the result of inevitable mortality.

In the spring of 1774, he was attacked in a very severe manner by a fit of the strangury; a disease of which he had often experienced slight symptoms, owing probably to the severe confinement to which he at times devoted himself when engaged in his compilations, and the very free and intemperate life to which he afterwards gave himself up. He usually hired apartments at a farm-house in the neighbourhood of London, and wrote without the least cessation or exercise for weeks, until he had completed his task. He then returned to his friends the booksellers, received his compensation, and engaged, perhaps for months, in all the gaieties and amusements of the metropolis. Such frequent changes had materially injured his constitution; his mind too, was distressed; and the attack of strangury terminated in a nervous fever, which required medical assistance. He told Mr. Hawes on his arrival, that he had taken two ounces of ipecacuanha wine, as an emetic, and that it was his intention to take Dr. James’s fever powders. Mr. Hawes in vain represented to him the impropriety of the medicine at that time; Goldsmith was inflexible. Dr. Fordyce was called in, who corroborated the apothecary’s opinion; Goldsmith, however, could not be prevailed on to alter his resolution, and on the following day, the alarming symptoms had increased. Dr. Turton was now called in, but their united skill and abilities did not avail. He died on 24th April, at the age of forty-five.

His literary friends had originally intended to have testified their respect for him by a sumptuous public funeral; a slight investigation of his affairs, however, shewing that he was £2000 in debt, this plan was abandoned, and he was privately interned in the Temple burying ground, on the Saturday following. A subscription was afterwards {197} raised, principally among his brethren of the Literary dub, and a marble monument by Nollekens, was placed in Westminster Abbey, between those of Gay and the Duke of Argyle, in Poet’s Comer, with an appropriate and friendly epitaph, from the pen of Dr. Johnson.