that," said Johnson. "Nay, sir," Goldsmith gravely assured him, "it is a fact well authenticated." "You had better prove it," Thrale quietly interposed, " before you put it into your book on Natural History. You may do it in my stable if you will." But Johnson would have him do no such thing; for the very sensible reason that he had better, taking his information from others as he must, leave others responsible for such errors as he might make in so comprehensive a book as his Animated Nature than assume responsibility himself by the arduous task of experiment, and expose himself to blame for not making experiments as to every particular' From this the conversation passed to lit

1 Boswell, iii. 276. Cooke relates an amusing instance of one practical experiment by which Goldsmith proposed to test a theory thrown out in his book. "The Doctor was at times very absent, and showed such an inconsistency of mind that if a person was to judge of his literary knowledge from some particular instances, they must think very meanly of his information or talents. He was once engaged in a violent dispute with George Bellas, the proctor (at the very time he was writing his History of Animated Nature) about the motion of the upper jaw; and, when Bellas laughed at him on the absurdity of his assertion, the Doctor very seriously, but warmly, desired him to put his finger in his mouth, and he'd convince him. Being soon after desired by a friend to recollect what he had asserted, he paused for some time, and said, 'In truth I had forgot myself, but anyway I ought not to have given up the victory to such an antagonist.' -European Magazine, xxiv. 261. The passage in the Animated Nature to which Cooke alludes as connected with this odd experimental test, I am not acquainted with; unless it be that equally singular illustration already given (see vol. iii. 27), from the recollection of his own student days at Edinburgh, on the subject of yawning, which would seem to have reference rather to the lower than the upper jaw. I take this opportunity of subjoining one or two other passages that have an interest personal to the writer. It has been stated, on the authority of his book, that Goldsmith advocated entire abstinence from wine; but the inference is not supported by the passage cited for it (ii. 8), which is simply a comment on the fast-days prescribed by the Roman Catholic church. "How far it may be enjoined in the Scriptures I will not take upon me to say; but this may be asserted, that if the utmost benefit to the individual, and the most extensive advantage to society, serve to mark any institution one of Heaven, this of abstinence may be reckoned among the foremost." Another passage might seem to show that he had at one time taken some part in the direction or management of the Society of Arts. Speaking (iii. 175) of Gesner's description of various traps for the catching of rats and mice, he adds that this society

erary subjects, and Goldsmith spoke slightingly of the character of Mallet. "Why, sir," remarked Johnson," Mallet had talents enough to keep his literary reputation alive as long as he himself lived; and that, let me tell you, is a good deal." "But," persisted Goldsmith, "I cannot agree that it was so. His literary reputation was dead long before his natural death. I consider an author's literary reputation to be alive only while his name will insure a good price for his copy from the booksellers. I will get you" (and if the spirit of controversy was here rising in Johnson, his friend at once disarmed it) "a hundred guineas for anything whatever that you shall write, if you will put your name to it." Johnson did not reply, but began to praise "She Stoops to Conquer."

bad proposed a reward for the most ingenious contrivance for that purpose, "and I observed almost every candidate passing off descriptions as inventions of his own. I thought it was cruel to detect the plagiarism, or frustrate the humble ambition of those who would be thought the inventors of a mouse-trap." A third cleverly written passage (v. 273), in which, after pointing out the close resemblance between the frog and the toad in appearance, he stops to show that "such is the force of habit, begun in early prejudice, that those who consider the one as a harmless, playful animal, turn from the other with horror and disgust," has also an autobiographical interest for us. Admirably describing the revolting picture into which the imagination here colors the reality, he continues: "Yet upon my first seeing a toad, none of all those deformities in the least affected me with sensations of loathing: born, as I was, in a country where there are no toads, I had prepared my imagination for some dreadful object; but there seemed nothing to me more alarming in the sight than in that of a common frog; and indeed, for some time, I mistook and handled the one for the other. When first informed of my mistake, I very well remember my sensations; I wondered how I had escaped with safety, after handling and dissecting a toad which I had mistaken for a frog. I then began to lay in a fund of horror against the whole tribe, which, though convinced they are harmless, I shall never get rid of. My first imaginations were too strong, not only for my reason, but for the conviction of my senses."

CHAPTER XVII

THE CLUB

1773

MEASURED by the test we have seen Goldsmith apply to Johnson's reputation with the booksellers, his own, though still alive, must be held as now sadly in arrear. He had at this time several disputes with booksellers pending,' and his circumstances were verging to positive distress. The necessity of completing his Animated Nature, for which all the money had been received and spent, hung like a millstone upon him; his advances had been considerable upon other works, as yet not even begun; the money from his comedy was still coming in, but it could not, with the debts it had to satisfy, float his stranded fortunes; and he was now, in what leisure he could get from his larger book, working at a Grecian History in the hope of procuring means to meet his daily liabilities. The future was thus gradually and gloomily darkening; but, while he could, he was happy and content not to look beyond the present, cheerful or careless as it might be.' He sought relief in society, and went more than ever to the club.

1 Among them one with Davies, to which Tom mysteriously refers when he mentions, as highly characteristic of Goldsmith, the difference he had with "a bookseller," when, the matter being referred to Johnson, Johnson gave it in favor of the bookseller; and Goldsmith "was enraged to find that one author should have so little feeling for another as to determine a dispute to his disadvantage in favor of a tradesman."-Life of Garrick, ii.

158.

2 Cooke here repeats the charge to which I formerly adverted, of a fondness for play, observing, after a mention of the very large sum made by She Stoops to Conquer," that "what with his liberalities to poor authors and a passion for gambling, he found himself at the end of the year in

66

The change he had himself very strongly advocated was now made in this celebrated society; the circle of its members was enlarged to twenty; and he took renewed interest in its meetings. A sort of understanding was at the same time entered into that the limit of attendances to secure continued membership should be at least twice in five weeks, and that more frequent attendance would be expected from all. The election of Garrick was proposed to fill the first vacancy. This had been zealously seconded by Goldsmith; three nights before "She Stoops to Conquer" came out Garrick made his first appearance in Gerrard Street; and there was a special celebra

considerable debt." And I take the opportunity of subjoining the very sensible remarks made by this writer, who always treats Goldsmith fairly within his means of judgment, on the alteration in his modes and ways of living during his latter years. "When," says Cooke, "he exchanged his simple habits for those of the great, he contracted their follies without their fortunes or qualifications. Hence, when he eat or drank with them, he contracted habits for expense which he could not individually afford; when he squandered his time with them he squandered part of his income; and when he lost his money at play with them he had not their talents to recover it at another opportunity. He had discernment to see all this, but had not the courage to break those fetters he had forged. The consequence was, he was obliged to run in debt, and his debts rendered him, at times, so very melancholy and dejected that I am sure he felt himself, at least the last years of his life, a very unhappy man."-European Magazine, xxiv. 172– 173. Substantially the same statement had been made several years before by a writer to whom Goldsmith was as intimately known, and who, shortly after his death, thus spoke of him: "While this ingenious man was in the pay of Newbery, and lived in Green Arbor Court, he was a tolerable economist, and lived happily; but when he emerged from obscurity, and enjoyed a great income, he had no principle or idea of saving, or any degree of care; was dreadfully necessitous ten months of every year, and never at that period was quiet, or free from demands he could not pay. When the excess of the evil roused him, he retired at times into the country to a farm-house, where he lived for little or nothing, letting nobody know where he was; and, employing almost the whole day in writing, did not return to London till he was so well stocked with finished manuscripts as to be able to clear himself. These intervals of labor and retirement, he has declared, were among the happiest periods of his life. He enjoyed brilliant moments of wit, festivity, and conversation, but the bulk of all his latter days were poisoned with want and anxiety." I copied this from a magazine of the time to which unfortunately I have lost the reference.

tion a few weeks later, alleged to have been in honor both of the election and the comedy, when the hospitable brewer of Southwark had a table laid in one of his new brewing-coppers, and beefsteaks dressed at the furnace were set before Johnson, Reynolds, Goldsmith, Garrick, Burke, and Baretti.' On Beauclerc's proposition, the same night of Garrick's election, his friend and fellow-traveller, Lord Charlemont, was chosen, the Irish peer whose subsequent patriotism made the title so illustrious. Burke then proposed a friend of Lord Charlemont's and his own, Mr. Agmondesham Vesey, the husband of Mrs. Montagu's bluestocking friend, introducing his name with the remark that he was a man of gentle manners. "Sir," interrupted Johnson," you need say no more. When you have said a man of gentle manners, you have said enough." Nevertheless, when Vesey, with schoolboy gentleness of talk, introduced one day at the club the subject of Catiline's conspiracy, Johnson withdrew his attention and thought about Tom Thumb. Not many days after Vesey's election, Mr. William Jones, a young lawyer and accomplished scholar of the Temple, who had distinguished himself at University College with Chambers and Scott, and had this year made pleasing additions to the select store of Eastern literature, was proposed by Chambers and elected. A fifth candidate was now in agitation; proposed on the 23d of April (when Goldsmith occupied the chair)' by Johnson, and

1 Thursday, the 13th of May, is named in the last Life of Reynolds (ii. 53) as the day of this dinner, our knowledge of which we owe to the mention made of it in Northcote's Life (i. 317).

3

It is curious that the only fragment of correspondence between Johnson and Goldsmith that has been preserved, if indeed any other ever existed, is the formal note in which Boswell's name is submitted to Goldsmith as the chairman of the night. "April 23, 1773. SIR,-I beg that you will excuse my absence to the club; I am going this evening to Oxford. I have another favor to beg. It is that I may be considered as proposing Mr. Boswell for a candidate of our society, and that he may be considered as regularly nominated. I am, Sir, your most humble servant, SAM. JOHNSON." Of course the Sir" and the "humble servant" are the ordinary phrases in use on such an occasion, and imply nothing of the tone of private inter