the head, nor the philosophic Burke, drily correcting the historian with a suggestion of oil of vitriol': not so, with one single submissive exception, any one of the constant victims to that forcible spirit and impetuosity of manner, which, as the submissive victim admits, spared neither sex nor age.

But Boswell was not content that the scene should have passed as it did. Two days after, he called to take leave of Goldsmith before returning to Scotland; seems to have chafed, with his meddling loquacity, what remained of a natural soreness of feeling; and dwells with great unction, in his book, on the 'jealousy and envy' which broke out at the interview. Enlarging on his having secured Johnson for a visit to the Hebrides in the autumn (an achievement which elsewhere he compared to that of a dog who had got hold of a large piece of meat, and run away with it to a corner where he might devour it in peace, without any fear of others taking it from him), Goldsmith interrupted him with the impatient remark that he would be a dead weight for me to carry, and that I should never be able 'to lug him along through the Highlands and Hebrides.' Nor, Boswell continues, was he patiently allowed to enlarge upon Johnson's wonderful abilities; for here Goldsmith broke in with that exclamation Is he like Burke, who 'winds into a subject like a serpent,' which drew forth the triumphant answer' But Johnson is the Hercules who 'strangled serpents in his cradle,' seldom equalled for its ludicrous inaptness by even Bozzy himself. All which

would be amusing enough, if it had rested there; but straight from the Temple, Boswell took himself to Fleet Street, and with repetition of what had passed (his common habit) no doubt revived Johnson's bitterness. For this had not wholly subsided even a week or two later, when, on Mrs. Thrale alluding to his future biographer, he asked, And who will be my biographer, do you think?' 'Gold'smith, no doubt,' replied Mrs. Thrale; and he will do 'it the best among us.' 'The dog would write it best, to 'be sure,' was Johnson's half-jesting half-bitter rejoinder, 'but his particular malice towards me, and general dis'regard of truth, would make the book useless to all and 'injurious to my character.' Uttered carelessly enough, no doubt, and with small thought that his gay little mistress would turn authoress, and put it in a book! Let such things be taken always with the wise comment which Johnson himself supplied to them, in an invaluable remark of his ten years later. I am not an uncandid nor am I a severe man. I sometimes say more than I mean, in 'jest; and people are apt to believe me serious. However, I am more candid than I was when I was younger. 'As I know more of mankind, I expect less of them; 'and am ready now to call a man a good man upon 'easier terms than I was formerly.' He loved Goldsmith when he so spoke of him, and had no doubt of Goldsmith's affection: but he spoke with momentary bitterness; of the 'something after death,' whether a biography or matter more serious, he never spoke patiently; and

no man's quarrels, at all times, were so much lovers' quarrels. 'Sir,' he said to Boswell, with a faltering voice, when Beauclerc was in his last illness, 'I would walk to 'the extremity of the diameter of the earth to save Beau'clerc:' yet with no one more bitterly than with Beauclerc, did he altercate in moments of difference. Nor was his fervent tribute 'The earth, sir, does not bear a worthier 'man than Bennet Langton,' less sincere, because one of his most favourite topics of talk to Boswell was the little weaknesses of their worthy friend.

The first volume of the Grecian History seems to have been finished soon after Boswell left London, and Griffin, on behalf of the 'trade,' was then induced to make further advances. An agreement dated on the 22nd of June, states £250 as the sum agreed and paid for the two volumes; but from this payment had doubtless been deducted some part of the heavy debt, for which the author was already in arrear. The rest of that debt, it seemed hopeless to satisfy by mere drudgery of his own, never more than doubtfully rewarded at best; and the idea now occurred to him of a work he might edit, for which he might procure contributions from his friends, and in which the mere influence of his name and repute might suffice to bring a liberal return. It is pleasant to find Garrick helping him in this. 'Dear sir,' writes Goldsmith to him on the 10th of June, 'To be thought of by 'you, obliges me; to be served by you, still more. It makes 'me very happy to find that Dr. Burney thinks my scheme 'of a Dictionary useful; still more that he will be so kind

'as to adorn it with anything of his own. I beg you will 'also accept my gratitude for procuring me so valuable an 'acquisition. I am, dear sir, Your most affectionate servant, 'OLIVER GOLDSMITH.' Garrick had induced Doctor Burney to promise a paper on Music for the scheme, which was that of a Popular Dictionary of Arts and Sciences.

In exertions with a view to this project, and in other persevering labours of the desk, the autumn came on. 'Here,' he said exultingly to Cradock, on the latter entering his chambers one morning, are some of my best prose 'writings. I have been hard at work ever since midnight,

and I desire you to examine them. They are intended 'for an introduction to a body of arts and sciences.' Cradock thought them excellent indeed, but for other admiration they have unluckily not survived. With these proofs of application, anecdotes of carelessness as usual alternate; and Cradock relates that, on one occasion, he and Percy met by appointment in the Temple, at Goldsmith's earnest request, and found him gone away to Windsor, after leaving an earnest entreaty (with which they complied) that they would complete for him a half-finished proof of his Animated Nature, which lay upon his desk. His once trim chambers had then fallen into grievous disorder. Expensive volumes (which, as he says in his preface to the book just named, had sorely taxed his scanty resources) lay scattered about the tables, and tossing on the floor. But of books he had never been careful. Hawkins relates that when engaged in his historical researches about music, Gold

smith told him some curious things one night at the Club, which he asked him to reduce to writing: he promised he would; desired Hawkins to call at his chambers; and on the latter doing so, stepped into a closet and tore out of a printed book six leaves, containing the facts he had mentioned. The carelessness, however, was not of books only. Such money as he had, might be seen lying exposed in drawers; to which his 'occasional man-servant' would resort as a mere matter of course, for means to pay any small bill that happened to be applied for: and on a visitor once pointing out the danger of this, "What, my

dear 'friend,' exclaimed Goldsmith, do you take Dennis for a 'thief?' One John Eyles' had lately replaced Dennis ; and was inheritor of the too tempting confidence reposed in his predecessor, at the time of Percy's good-natured visit to the Temple. The latter incident, I may add, shows us how fleeting the Rowley dispute had been; and it was followed by a mark of renewed confidence from Goldsmith, which may also show the fitful despondency with which he was at this time struggling. He asked Percy to be his biographer; told him he should leave him his papers; dictated several incidents of his life to him; and gave him a number of letters and manuscript materials, which were not afterwards so carefully preserved as they might have been. There is no doubt that his spirits were now unusually depressed and uncertain, and that his health had become visibly impaired. Even his temper failed him with his servants; and uncustomary bursts of passion showed