the visitors; and it was easy to know the guests best acquainted with the house, by their never failing to call instantly for beer, bread, or wine, that they might get them before the first course was over, and the worst confusion began. Once was Sir Joshua prevailed upon to furnish his table with dinner glasses and decanters, and some saving of time they proved; yet as they were demolished in the course of service, he could never be persuaded to replace them. But these trifling embarrass'ments,' added Mr. Courtenay, describing them to Sir James Macintosh, 'only served to enhance the hilarity ' and singular pleasure of the entertainment.' It was not the wine, dishes, and cookery, not the fish and venison, that were talked of or recommended; those social hours, that irregular convivial talk, had matter of higher relish, and fare more eagerly enjoyed. And amid all the animated bustle of his guests, the host sat perfectly composed; always attentive to what was said, never minding what was eat or drank, and leaving every one at perfect liberty to scramble for himself. Though so severe a deafness had resulted from cold caught on the continent in early life, as to compel the use of a trumpet, Reynolds profited by its use to hear or not to hear, or as he pleased to enjoy the privileges of both, and keep his own equanimity undisturbed. He is the same all the year round,' exclaimed Johnson, with honest envy. 'In illness and in pain, he is still the Sir, he is the most invulnerable man I know; the 'man with whom, if you should quarrel, you will find

same.

'the most difficulty how to abuse.' Nor was this praise obtained by preference of any, but by cordial respect to all; for in Reynolds there was as little of the sycophant as the tyrant. However high the rank of the guests invited, he waited for none. His dinners were served always precisely at five o'clock. His was not the fashionable ill breeding, says Mr. Courtenay, which could wait an hour for two or three persons of title,' and put the rest of the company out of humour by the invidious distinction.

Such were the memorable meetings (less frequent at first than they afterward became) from which Goldsmith was now rarely absent. Here appeared the dish of peas one day that were anything but their natural colour, and which one of Beauclerc's waggish friends recommended should be sent to Hammersmith, because that was the way to turn 'em green.' It was said in a whisper to Goldsmith; and so tickled and delighted him that he resolved to pass it off for his own at the house of Burke, who had a mighty relish for a bad pun. But when the time came for repeating it, he had unluckily forgotten the point, and fell into hapless confusion. That is the way to make 'em green,' he said: but no one laughed. 'I mean that is the road to turn 'em green,' he blundered out: but still no one laughed; and, as Beauclerc tells the story, he started up disconcerted, and abruptly quitted the table. A tavern he would often quit, Hawkins tells us, if his jokes were unsuccessful; though at the same time he would generally preface them, as with instinctive distrust

of their effect, now I'll tell you a story of myself, which

some people laugh at and some do not.' The worthy knight adds a story something like Beauclerc's, which he says occurred at the breaking up of one of those tavern evenings, when he entreated the company to sit down, and told them if they would call for another bottle they should hear one of his bon-mots. It turned out to be what he had said on hearing of old Sheridan's habit of practising his stage gestures in a room hung round with ten looking glasses, then there were ten ugly fellows together;' whereupon, every body remaining silent, he asked why they did not laugh, which they not doing, he 'without tasting the wine left the room in anger.' But all this, even if correctly reported, was less the sensitiveness of ill-nature, than the sudden shame of exaggerated self-distrust. Poor Goldsmith! He could never acquire what it is every one's duty to learn, the making light of petty annoyances. Consider, Sir, how insignificant 'this will appear a twelve-month hence,' was, on such occasions, the precious saying of Johnson, who, if he often inflicted the vexation, was commonly the first to suggest its remedy. But Goldsmith never lost his over sensitive nature. His very suspicions involved him in unreserved disclosures which revealed the unspoiled simplicity of his heart. Alas! that the subtle insight which is so able to teach others, should so often be powerless to guide ourselves! Could Goldsmith only have been as indifferent as he was earnest, as impudent as he was frank, he might have covered

(

effectually every imperfection in his character. But all was patent. He wore his heart upon his sleeve. He could not conceal what was uppermost in his mind, says Davies ; he blurted it out, says Johnson, to see what became of it. Thus when Hawkins tells us that he heard him say in company, 'yesterday I heard an excellent story and 'would relate it now if I thought any of you able to 'understand it,' the idea conveyed is not an impertinence, but simply that the company, including Hawkins, was a very stupid one. 'Good Heavens, Mr. Foote,' exclaimed a lively actress at the Haymarket, what a humdrum kind of man Doctor Goldsmith appears to be in our greenroom, compared with the figure he makes in his poetry!' The reason of that, madam,' replied the manager, 'is, 'because the Muses are better companions than the Players.' Thinking his companions more stupid than his thoughts, it certainly was not his business to say so; yet he could not help awkwardly saying it. His mind relieved itself, as a necessity, of all that lay upon it. His kindly purposes and simple desires; his sympathies to assist others, and his devices to make better appearance for himself; his innocent distrusts, and amusing vanities; the sense of his own undeserved disadvantages, and vexation at others' as undeserved success: everything sprang to his lips, and it was only from himself he could conceal anything.

Even Burke could not spare that weakness; nor refrain from practising upon it, not very justifiably, for the amusement of his friends. He and an Irish acquaintance

(who lived to be Colonel O'Moore, to tell the anecdote to Mr. Croker, and perhaps to colour it a little) were walking to dine one day with Reynolds, when, on arriving in Leicester Square, they saw Goldsmith, also on his way to the same dinner party, standing near a crowd of people who were staring and shouting at some foreign women in the windows of one of the hotels. 'Observe Goldsmith,' said Burke to O'Moore, and mark 'what passes between him and me by-and-bye at Sir Joshua's.' They passed on, and were soon joined at Reynolds's by Goldsmith, whom Burke affected to receive very coolly. This seemed to vex poor Goldsmith,' says the teller of the story; and he begged Mr. Burke would tell him how he had had the misfortune to offend him. Burke appeared very reluctant to speak; but after a good deal of pressing said that he was really ashamed to keep ' up an intimacy with one who could be guilty of such monstrous indiscretions as Goldsmith had just exhibited in the Square.' With great earnestness Goldsmith protested himself unconscious of what was meant. Why,' said Burke, 'did you not exclaim, as you were looking up at those women, what stupid beasts the crowd must be for staring with such admiration at those painted 'Jezebels, while a man of your talents passed by un'noticed?' 'Surely, surely, my dear friend,' exclaimed Goldsmith, horror-struck, 'I did not say so?' 'Nay,' returned Burke, if you had not said so, how should I

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have known it? That's true,' answered Goldsmith,