CHAPTER IXTHE AGE OF TRANSITION

The thick line shows the period of active literary work.

1720 1730 Thomson (1700â€“48) | Collins (1721â€“59) | Gray (1716â€“71) | Cowper (1731â€“1800) | Burns (1759â€“96) | Richardson (1689â€“1761) | Fielding (1707â€“54) | Johnson (1709â€“84) | Goldsmith (1728â€“74) | Gibbon (1737â€“94) | Burke (1729â€“97) | 1740 1750 1760 1770 1780 1790 1800 | | | | | | | | | | |â•‘[162]| â•‘ | | | | | | |........|â•‘==============â•‘ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | â•‘ | | â•‘ | â•‘ | | | | | | â•‘......|........|.....â•‘=========â•‘ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | â•‘ |â•‘[163]â•‘| |â•‘ | | | |........|........|...â•‘============â•‘|........|â•‘ | | | | | |â•‘ | | | | | | |â•‘ | | | | |â•‘ | â•‘ | |â•‘.......|........|........|........|........|â•‘=================â•‘ | | | | | | | | | | | | â•‘ | | | â•‘[164]| â•‘ | | | | | â•‘.|........|........|...â•‘=========â•‘ | | | | | | | | | | | |â•‘[165]| â•‘ |â•‘ | | | | |........|........|â•‘==========â•‘.....|â•‘ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | â•‘ â•‘ |[166]â•‘ | | | | | |........|........|.â•‘====â•‘=======â•‘ | | | | | | | â•‘ | | | | | | | | â•‘ | | | | |â•‘ â•‘ | | |........|....â•‘========================================â•‘..â•‘ | | | | | | | | | | | â•‘ | | | â•‘ | | â•‘ | | | | â•‘....|........|........|......â•‘============â•‘ | | | | | | | | | | | | | â•‘ | | | | â•‘[167]| |â•‘ â•‘ | | | â•‘....|........|........|........|...â•‘==============â•‘..â•‘ | | | | | | | | | | â•‘| | | â•‘ | | | | â•‘ | | â•‘|........|........|....â•‘===================================â•‘ | | | | | | | | |

The following table is meant to convey a rough idea of the drift of poetry toward Romanticism. In the table the lateral position of the title of a work gives an approximateestimate of its approach to the Romantic ideal. Such an estimate, especially in the case of the transitional poems, cannot be determined absolutely, and need not be taken as final. The table, nevertheless, reveals not only the steady drift, but also the manner in which the different stages of development overlap.

The period covered by the present chapter is that of the middle and later stages of the eighteenth century. During this time several relevant historical movements call for notice.

1. Decline of the Party Feud.The contest between the Whigs and the Tories still continues, but it is hardly of the previous bitterness. The chief reason for this change is found in the weakness of the Tory party, which by rash management and precipitate action made itself so unpopular that for nearly thirty yearsâ€”those in the middle of the centuryâ€”the Whigs had hardly any opposition. Withthe accession of George III in 1760 the Tories swiftly climbed into power, and, with the shadow of the French Revolution already looming up, party feeling soon acquired additional ferocity.

2. Commercial and Imperial Expansion.Under the pacific management of the great Whig minister Walpole, and owing to the successful wars of his successors, the eighteenth century saw an immense growth in the wealth and importance of the British Empire. On literature this material welfare had its effect by endowing and stimulating research and original work. The possession of India and America in itself was an inspiration, and when the new territories brought new burdens, like that of the American revolt, the clash of ideals led to fresh literary effort, as can easily be seen in the work of Burke.

3. The French Revolution.Long before it burst, the storm of the Revolution was, in the words of Burke, blackening the horizon. During the century new ideas were germinating; new forces were gathering strength; and the Revolution, when it did come in 1789, was only the climax to a long and deeply diffused unrest. Revolutionary ideas stirred literature to the very depths; the present chapter, and the next as well, are a chronicle of their effects upon the literature of England.

Like all other periods of transition, the one under review is disturbed and confused. It is a matter of great difficulty to trace the different tendencies, but with care the task may be accomplished with some accuracy.

1. The Double Tendency.Two movements can be clearly observed in the writing of the time, namely:

(a) The allegiance to the old order of classicism. In this movement the chief and almost the only figure is that of Samuel Johnson. He is a host in himself, however.

(b) The search after the new order of Romanticism. In their different degrees, as can be seen from the secondtable at the beginning of this chapter, many writers were engaged in the search. It began as early as 1730, with the publication of Thomsonâ€™sSeasons; and though it lapsed for a time, it was to continue with gathering force during the latter years of the century.

2. The New Romanticism.The general features of the Romantic movement were:

(a) A return to natureâ€”to the real nature of earth and air, and not to the stuffy, bookish nature of the artificial pastoral.

(b) A fresh interest in manâ€™s position in the world of nature. This led to great activity in religious and political speculation, as will be seen further on.

(c) An enlightened sympathy for the poor and oppressed. In English literature during this time one has but to think of the work of Cowper, Burns, and Crabbe, and even of the classically minded Gray, to perceive the revolution that is taking place in the minds of men.

(d) A revolt against the conventional literary technique, such as that of the heroic couplet. On the other hand, we have a desire for strength, simplicity, and sincerity in the expression of the new literary ideals.

(e) Fresh treatment of Romantic themes in such poems asThe Lay of the Last Minstrel,The Ancient Mariner,La Belle Dame sans Merci.

In the present chapter we shall perceive all the above features dimly taking shape. In the next chapter they will be the dominating features of the era.

3. The New Learning.The middle and later stages of the eighteenth century show a minor Renaissance that touched nearly all Europe. The increase in wealth and comfort coincided with a general uplifting of the standard of the human intellect. In France particularly it was well marked, and it took for its sign and seal the labors of the EncyclopÃ¦dists and the social amenities of the oldersalons. Many of the leading English writers, including Gibbon, Hume, and Sterne, visited Paris, which was the hub of European culture.

In England the new learning took several channels. In literature we have the revival of the Romantic movement, leading to (a) research into archaic literary forms, such as the ballad, and (b) new editions of the older authors, such as Shakespeare and Chaucer. The publication of Bishop Percyâ€™sReliques(1765) which contained some of the oldest and most beautiful specimens of ballad-literature, is a landmark in the history of the Romantic movement. Even Pope and Johnson were moved to edit Shakespeare, though they did it badly. The editions of Theobald and Warburton were examples of scholarly and enlightened research.

4. The New Philosophy.The spirit of the new thinking, which received its consummate expression in the works of Voltaire, was marked by keen skepticism and the zest for eager inquiry. Scotland very early took to it, the leading Scottish philosopher being Hume. It would seem, perhaps, that this destructive spirit of disbelief would injure the Romantic ideal, which delights in illusion. But finally the new spirit actually assisted the Romantic ideal by demolishing and clearing away heaps of the ancient mental lumber, and so leaving the ground clear for new and fresher creations.

5. The Growth of Historical Research.History appears late in our literature, for it presupposes a long apprenticeship of research and meditation. The eighteenth century witnessed the swift rise of historical literature to a place of great importance. Like so many other things we have mentioned, it was fostered in France, and it touched Scotland first. The historical school had a glorious leader in Gibbon, who was nearly as much at home in the French language as he was in English.

6. The New Realism.At first, as might be expected, the spirit of inquiry led to the suppression of romance; but it drew within the circle of literary endeavor all the ranks of mankind. Thus we have the astonishing development of the novel, which at first concerned itself with domestic incidents. Fielding and his kind dealt very faithfullywith human life, and often were squalidly immersed in masses of sordid detail. In the widest sense of the word, however, the novelists were Romanticists, for in sympathy and freshness of treatment they were followers of the new ideal.

7. The Decline of Political Writing.With the partial decay of the party spirit the activity in pamphleteering was over; poets and satirists were no longer the favorites of Prime Ministers. Walpole, the greatest of contemporary ministers, openly despised the literary breed, for he did not need them. Hence writers had to depend on their public, which was not entirely an evil. This caused the rise of the man of letters, such as Johnson and Goldsmith, who wrote to satisfy a public demand. Later in the century, when the political temperature once again approached boiling-point, pamphlets began again to acquire an importance, which rose to a climax in the works of Junius and Burke.

1. His Life.Johnson has a faithful chronicler in Boswell, whoseLife of Johnsonmakes us intimate with its subject to a degree rare in literature. But even the prying zeal of Boswell could not extort many facts regarding the great manâ€™s early life. Johnson was born at Lichfield, the son of a bookseller, whose pronounced Tory views he inherited and steadfastly maintained. From his birth he was afflicted with a malignant skin-disease (for which he was unsuccessfully â€œtouchedâ€ by Queen Anne) which all through his life affected his sight and hearing, and caused many of the physical peculiarities that astonished and amused the friends of his later years. After being privately educated, he proceeded to Oxford, where he experienced the miseries and indignities that are the lot of a poor scholar cursed with a powerful and aspiring mind. Leaving the university, he tried school-teaching, with no success; married a woman twenty years older than himself;and then in 1737 went to London and threw himself into the squalors and allurements of Grub Street.

In hisEssay on JohnsonMacaulay has given an arresting description of the miseries endured by the denizens of Grub Street; and in this case even the natural exaggeration of Macaulay is not quite misplaced. We know next to nothing regarding the life of Johnson during this early period. It is certain that it was wretched enough to cause the sturdy old fellow, in after years, to glance at this period of his life with a shudder of loathing, and to quench the curiosity of Boswell with ultra-Johnsonian vehemence. Very slowly he won his way out of the gutter, fighting every step with bitter tenacity; for, as he puts it in his poem ofLondon, with all the outstanding emphasis of capitals,SLOW RISES WORTH BY POVERTY OPPRESSED. From the obscure position of a publisherâ€™s hack he became a poet of some note by the publication ofLondon(1738), which was noticed by Pope; hisDictionary(1747â€“55) advanced his fame; then somewhat incomprehensibly he appears in the limelight as one of the literary dictators of London, surrounded by a circle of brilliant men. In 1762 he received a pension from the State, and the last twenty years of his life were passed in the manner most acceptable to him: dawdling, visiting, conversing, yetlivingwith a gigantic vitality that made his fellows wonder.

It is in these latter years that we find him imperishably figured in the pages of Boswell. All his tricks of humorâ€”his bearishness, his gruff goodwill, his silent and secret benevolences; his physical aberrationsâ€”his guzzlings, his grunts, his grimaces, his puffings and wallowings; his puerile superstitions; his deep and beautiful piety; his Tory prejudices, so often enormously vocal; his masterful and unsleeping common sense; the devouring immensity of his conversational powers: we find all these set out inThe Life of Doctor Johnson.

2. His Poetry.He wrote little poetry, and none of it, though it has much merit, can be called first-class. Hisfirst poem,London(1738), written in the heroic couplet, is of great and somber power. It depicts the vanities and the sins of city life viewed from the depressing standpoint of an embittered and penurious poet. His only other longish poem isThe Vanity of Human Wishes(1749). The poem, in imitation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal, transfers to the activities of mankind in general the gloomy convictions raised ten years earlier by the spectacle of London. The meter is the same as inLondon, and there is the same bleak pessimism, but the weight and power of the emotion, the tremendous conviction and the stern immobility of the author, give the work a great value. There are many individual lines of solemn grandeur. The following passage shows all he has to offer to the young aspirant to literary fame:

When first the college rolls receive his name,The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame;Resistless burns the fever of renown,Caught from the strong contagion of the gown.Oâ€™er Bodleyâ€™s dome his future labours spread,And Baconâ€™s mansion trembles oâ€™er his head.Are these thy views? Proceed, illustrious youth,And Virtue guard thee to the throne of Truth!Yet, should thy soul indulge the generous heatTill captive Science yields her last retreat;Should Reason guide thee with her brightest ray,And pour on misty Doubt resistless day;Should no false kindness lure to loose delight,Nor praise relax, nor difficulty fright;Should tempting Novelty thy cell refrain,And Sloth effuse her opiate fumes in vain;Should Beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart,Nor claim the triumph of a letterâ€™d heart;Should no disease thy torpid veins invade,Nor Melancholyâ€™s phantoms haunt thy shade;Yet hope not life from grief or danger free,Nor think the doom of man reversâ€™d for thee:Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes,And pause awhile from letters, to be wise;There mark what ills the scholarâ€™s life assail,Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.See nations, slowly wise, and meanly just,To buried merit raise the tardy bust.If dreams yet flatter, once again attend,Hear Lydiatâ€™s life and Galileoâ€™s end.

When first the college rolls receive his name,

The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame;

Resistless burns the fever of renown,

Caught from the strong contagion of the gown.

Oâ€™er Bodleyâ€™s dome his future labours spread,

And Baconâ€™s mansion trembles oâ€™er his head.

Are these thy views? Proceed, illustrious youth,

And Virtue guard thee to the throne of Truth!

Yet, should thy soul indulge the generous heat

Till captive Science yields her last retreat;

Should Reason guide thee with her brightest ray,

And pour on misty Doubt resistless day;

Should no false kindness lure to loose delight,

Nor praise relax, nor difficulty fright;

Should tempting Novelty thy cell refrain,

And Sloth effuse her opiate fumes in vain;

Should Beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart,

Nor claim the triumph of a letterâ€™d heart;

Should no disease thy torpid veins invade,

Nor Melancholyâ€™s phantoms haunt thy shade;

Yet hope not life from grief or danger free,

Nor think the doom of man reversâ€™d for thee:

Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes,

And pause awhile from letters, to be wise;

There mark what ills the scholarâ€™s life assail,

Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.

See nations, slowly wise, and meanly just,

To buried merit raise the tardy bust.

If dreams yet flatter, once again attend,

Hear Lydiatâ€™s life and Galileoâ€™s end.

3. His Drama.When he first came to London in 1737 he brought the manuscript, in part, ofIrene, a solemn and ponderous tragedy. In 1749, through the heroic exertions of his old pupil David Garrick, who was then manager of Drury Lane Theatre, it was given a hearing, and had a run of nine nights. Even Johnsonâ€™s best friends had to admit that it was no success, and it then utterly disappeared, taking with it Johnsonâ€™s sole claim to dramatic merit.

4. His Prose.Any claim that Johnson has to be called a first-rate writer must be based on the merit of his prose; but even his prose is small in bulk and strangely unsatisfying in kind. His earliest effort was contributed to Caveâ€™sGentlemanâ€™s Magazine, and comprised Parliamentary reporting, in which he fabricated the speeches of the legislators, to the great benefit of the legislators. Various hack-work followed; and then in 1747 he planned, and in eight years produced, hisDictionary. He also wroteThe Rambler(1750â€“52) andThe Idler(1758â€“60), which were periodicals in the manner ofThe Spectator, without the ease and variety of their original. To these he regularly contributed essays, which were quite popular in their day, though to modern notions they would be the reverse of acceptable. They treat mainly of abstract subjects, and are expressed in an extremely cumbrous style which soon came to be known as Johnsonese. This type of prose style is marked by a Latinized vocabulary, long and balanced sentences, and an abstract mode of expression. The passage given below illustrates these mannerisms, as well as a kind of elephantine skittishness with which Johnson was sometimes afflicted:

Another cause of the gaiety and sprightliness of the dwellers in garrets is probably the increase of that vertiginous motion, with which we are carried round by the diurnal revolution of theearth. The power of agitation upon the spirits is well known; every man has felt his heart lightened in a rapid vehicle, or on a galloping horse; and nothing is plainer, than that he who towers to the fifth story is whirled through more space by every circumrotation than another that grovels upon the ground-floor. The nations between the tropics are known to be fiery, inconstant, inventive, and fanciful; because, living at the utmost length of the earthâ€™s diameter, they are carried about with more swiftness than those whom nature has placed nearer to the poles; and therefore, as it becomes a wise man to struggle with the inconveniences of his country, whenever celerity and acuteness are requisite, we must actuate our languor by taking a few turns round the centre in a garret.The Rambler

The Rambler

He wroteRasselas(1759) in order to pay for his motherâ€™s funeral. It was meant to be a philosophical novel, but it is really a number ofRambleressays, written in Johnsonese, and strung together with the personality of an inquiring young prince called Rasselas. It is hardly a novel at all; the tale carries little interest, the characters are rudimentary, and there are many long, dull discussions. In the book, however, there are abundant shrewd comments and much of Johnsonâ€™s somber clarity of vision.

His later years were almost unproductive of literary work. Yet he kept himself deeply interested in the events of the day. For instance, he started a violent quarrel with Macpherson, whoseOssianhad startled the literary world. We give a letter that Johnson wrote to the Scotsman, which shows that he sometimes wrote as he spokeâ€”crisply, clearly, and scathingly:

Mr James Macpherson,I have received your foolish and impudent letter. Any violence offered me I shall do my best to repel; and what I cannot do for myself, the law shall do for me. I hope I shall never be deterred from detecting what I think a cheat by the menaces of a ruffian.What would you have me retract? I thought your book an imposture: I think it an imposture still. For this opinion I have given my reasons to the public, which I here dare you to refute. Your rage I defy. Your abilities, since your Homer, are not so formidable; and what I hear of your morals inclines me to pay regard not to what you shall say, but to what you shall prove. You may print this if you will.Sam. Johnson

Mr James Macpherson,

I have received your foolish and impudent letter. Any violence offered me I shall do my best to repel; and what I cannot do for myself, the law shall do for me. I hope I shall never be deterred from detecting what I think a cheat by the menaces of a ruffian.

What would you have me retract? I thought your book an imposture: I think it an imposture still. For this opinion I have given my reasons to the public, which I here dare you to refute. Your rage I defy. Your abilities, since your Homer, are not so formidable; and what I hear of your morals inclines me to pay regard not to what you shall say, but to what you shall prove. You may print this if you will.

Sam. Johnson

HisJourney to the Western Islands of Scotland(1774), a travel book, shows the faculty of narrative, and contains passages of great skill. His last work of any consequence wasThe Lives of the Poets(1779â€“81), a series of prefaces to a collection of poetical works. They are the best specimens of Johnsonâ€™s criticism, which is virile and sagacious, though it is influenced by the emotions of the classical school of Pope.

Thus when we come to estimate the value of his work we must arrive at the conclusion that the towering eminence which he held among really able men was due rather to the personality of the man than to the outstanding genius of the writer. Moreover, it is important to observe that he founded no school and left no literary following. He is the last of the old generation.

Thomson can hardly be called a great poet, yet in the history of literature he is unusual enough to be regarded (chronologically) as a freak. As such he is important, and it is necessary to give him some prominence.

1. His Life.Born near Kelso, close to some of the loveliest valleys on the Scottish side of the Border, Thomson early came to London (1725) to seek a patron and fame. HisWinter(1726), though its novelty embarrassed the critics, brought him recognition and afterward praise; he obtained the patronage of the great, and assiduously cultivated it; traveled as a tutor to a noble family; obtained Government places and emoluments; and passed a happy and prosperous life at his cottage near Richmond.

2. His Poetry.HisWinterwas afterward quadrupled in size by including the other three seasons, and becameThe Seasons(1730). It is a blank-verse poem, and consists of a long series of descriptive passages dealing with natural scenes, mainly those with which he was familiar during his youth on the Scottish Border. There is a great deal of padding, and the style is often marked by clumsy expressions;yet on the whole the treatment is exhilarating, full of concentrated observation and joy in the face of nature. Above all, it is real nature, obtained from the living sky and air, and not from books; and, coming when it did, the poem exerted a strong counter-influence against the artificial school of poetry.

Thomson also wroteLiberty(1736), a gigantic poem in blank verse, intolerably dull. It had no success. As Johnson says, â€œThe praises of Liberty were condemned to harbour spiders, and to gather dust.â€

In the last year of his life he publishedThe Castle of Indolence, which is even more remarkable thanThe Seasons. The poem is written in Spenserian stanzas, and in the true Spenserian fashion it gives a description of a lotus-land into which world-weary souls are invited to withdraw. The work is imitative, and so cannot claim to be of the highest class, but it is an imitation of the rarest merit. For languid suggestiveness, in dulcet and harmonious versification, and for subtly woven vowel-music it need not shirk comparison with the best of Spenser himself. We give three verses of this remarkable poem. Coming at such a period, and expressing as they do the essence of romantic idealism, the verses are well worth quoting:

Full in the passage of the vale above,A sable, silent, solemn forest stood,Where nought but shadowy forms was seen to move,As Idlesse fancied in her dreaming mood;And up the hills, on either side, a woodOf blackening pines, aye waving to and fro,Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood;And where this valley winded out below,The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.A pleasing land of drowsy-head it was,Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,For ever flushing round a summer sky:There eke the soft delights, that witchinglyInstil a wanton sweetness through the breast,And the calm pleasures, always hovered nigh;But whateâ€™er smacked of noyance or unrest,Was far, far off expelled from this delicious nest.Joined to the prattle of the purling rills,Were heard the lowing herds along the vale,And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:And now and then sweet Philomel would wail,Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep,That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;And still a coil the grasshopper did keep;Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all to sleep.The Castle of Indolence

Full in the passage of the vale above,

A sable, silent, solemn forest stood,

Where nought but shadowy forms was seen to move,

As Idlesse fancied in her dreaming mood;

And up the hills, on either side, a wood

Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro,

Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood;

And where this valley winded out below,

The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.

A pleasing land of drowsy-head it was,Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,For ever flushing round a summer sky:There eke the soft delights, that witchinglyInstil a wanton sweetness through the breast,And the calm pleasures, always hovered nigh;But whateâ€™er smacked of noyance or unrest,Was far, far off expelled from this delicious nest.

A pleasing land of drowsy-head it was,

Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;

And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,

For ever flushing round a summer sky:

There eke the soft delights, that witchingly

Instil a wanton sweetness through the breast,

And the calm pleasures, always hovered nigh;

But whateâ€™er smacked of noyance or unrest,

Was far, far off expelled from this delicious nest.

Joined to the prattle of the purling rills,Were heard the lowing herds along the vale,And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:And now and then sweet Philomel would wail,Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep,That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;And still a coil the grasshopper did keep;Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all to sleep.The Castle of Indolence

Joined to the prattle of the purling rills,

Were heard the lowing herds along the vale,

And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,

And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:

And now and then sweet Philomel would wail,

Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep,

That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;

And still a coil the grasshopper did keep;

Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all to sleep.

The Castle of Indolence

Thomson also wrote some dramas, including one bad tragedy,Sophanisba(1729); and in collaboration with Mallet he produced the masqueAlfred(1740), which happens to contain the songRule, Britannia. The song is usually said to be Thomsonâ€™s.

As another typical example of the transition poet we take Goldsmith, whose work was produced a full generation after that of Thomson.

1. His Life.Much of Goldsmithâ€™s early life is obscure, and our knowledge of it rests upon his own unsupported and hardly reliable evidence. He was born at Pallas, a small village in County Longford, in Ireland, and he was the son of the poor but admirable curate of the village. His father, the village, and various local features are duly registered, and unduly idealized, in the poemThe Deserted Village. In 1745 Goldsmith proceeded to Trinity College, Dublin; graduated, after some misadventures; and then tried various careers in turnâ€”law, medicine, and playing the fluteâ€”at various places, including Dublin, Edinburgh, Leyden, Venice, and Padua. At the last-mentioned place he graduated, according to his own account, as a doctor, and claimed title as such. In truth, a settled career was beyond Goldsmithâ€™s capacity. He had all the amiablevices of the stage Irishman: he was shiftless and improvident, but generous and humane; unstable and pitifully puerile in mind, but with bright, piercing flashes of humor and insight. During his years of wandering he roved over Europe, playing the flute for a living; then in 1756 he returned to England, poor, unknown, but undaunted.

Then followed desperate attempts at making a living. In succession he was chemist, printerâ€™s reader, usher in a school, and finally (the last refuge of the literary down-at-heels) publisherâ€™s hack and a denizen of Grub Street. In time, however, by their sheer merit, his writings drew upon him the regard of famous persons, including Dr. Johnson and Charles James Fox, the eminent politician. Once recognition came, it came with a rush; money and praise poured in; but his feckless habits kept him poor, and he drifted about in mean London lodgings till his death in 1774. It was said that he brought his doom upon himself by prescribing for his own ailment. He left debts for two thousand pounds. During his latter years he was a member of Johnsonâ€™s famous club, where his artless waysâ€”his bickerings, witticisms, and infantile vanityâ€”were the cause of the mingled amusement, admiration, and contempt of his fellow-members.

2. His Poetry.Though his poetical production is not large, it is notable. His first poem,The Traveller(1764), deals with his wanderings through Europe. The poem, about four hundred lines in length, is written in the heroic couplet, and is a series of descriptions and criticisms of the places and peoples of which he had experience. The descriptions, though often superficial and half-informed, are fired with the genius of the man, and are arresting and noteworthy. His critical comments, which require on his part clear thinking and some knowledge of social and economic facts, are of hardly any value. Similar drawbacks are seen in his only other poem of any length,The Deserted Village(1770). In this poem, as he deals with the memories of his youth, the pathetic note is more freely expressed. His natural descriptions have charm and genuine feeling;but his remedies for the agricultural depression of Ireland are innocently empty of the slightest practical value.

The peculiar humor and pathos of Goldsmith are hard to analyze. Both emotions arise for simple situations, and are natural and free from any deep guile, yet they have a certain agreeable tartness of flavor, and show that Goldsmith was no fool in his observation of mankind. Often the humor is so dashed with pathos that the combined effect is attractive to a very high degree. The passage given below illustrates his artless emotion naturally expressed:

In all my wanderings round this world of care,In all my griefsâ€”and God has given my shareâ€”I still had hopes my latest hours to crown,Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down;To husband out lifeâ€™s taper at the close,And keep the flame from wasting by repose:I still had hopes, for pride attends us still,Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill,â€”Around my fire an evening group to draw,And tell of all I felt, and all I saw;And as a hare whom hounds and horns pursue,Pants to the place from whence at first he flew,I still had hopes, my long vexations past,Here to returnâ€”and die at home at last.The Deserted Village

In all my wanderings round this world of care,

In all my griefsâ€”and God has given my shareâ€”

I still had hopes my latest hours to crown,

Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down;

To husband out lifeâ€™s taper at the close,

And keep the flame from wasting by repose:

I still had hopes, for pride attends us still,

Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill,â€”

Around my fire an evening group to draw,

And tell of all I felt, and all I saw;

And as a hare whom hounds and horns pursue,

Pants to the place from whence at first he flew,

I still had hopes, my long vexations past,

Here to returnâ€”and die at home at last.

The Deserted Village

Goldsmithâ€™s miscellaneous poems are important, for they include some of his characteristic humorous and pathetic writing. The ballad calledThe Hermitis done in the sentimental fashion, the wittyElegy on the Death of a Mad Dogis suggestive of Swift without Swiftâ€™s savage barb, and the fine lines beginning â€œWhen lovely woman stoops to follyâ€ are among the best he ever wrote.

3. His Drama.Goldsmith wrote two prose comedies, both of which rank high among their class. The first, calledThe Good-natured Man(1768), is not so good as the second,She Stoops to Conquer(1773). Each, but especially the latter, is endowed with an ingenious and lively plot, a caste of excellent characters, and a vivacious and delightful style. Based on the Restoration comedy, theylack the Restoration grossness. The second play had an immense popularity, and even yet it is sometimes staged.

4. His Prose.The prose is of astonishing range and volume. Among his works of fiction we findThe Citizen of the World(1759), a series of imaginary letters from a Chinaman, whose comments on English society are both simple and shrewd. This series was contributed toThe Public Ledger, a popular magazine. He wrote many other essays in the manner of Addison, almost as well done as those of Addison. His other important work of fiction is his novelThe Vicar of Wakefield(1766), which is in the first rank of the eighteenth-century novels. The plot of the novel is simple, but fairly well handled, the characters are human and attractive, and the book has all the Goldsmith qualities of humor and pathos.

We give an example of his style. The passage is taken from one of his essays, in which he sketches the character of a man who, while he pretends to be hard-hearted, is in reality of a generous disposition. The humor is typical; it is artless, but it is acute and pervading, and shows us quite plainly that the writer was by no means the zany that Boswell (who disliked Goldsmith) desired us to imagine in hisLife of Johnson.

He was proceeding in this strain, earnestly to dissuade me from an imprudence of which I am seldom guilty, when an old man, who still had about him the remnants of tattered finery, implored our compassion. He assured us that he was no common beggar, but forced into the shameful profession, to support a dying wife, and five hungry children. Being prepossessed against such falsehoods, his story had not the least influence upon me; but it was quite otherwise with the man in black; I could see it visibly operate upon his countenance, and effectually interrupt his harangue. I could easily perceive that his heart burned to relieve the five starving children, but he seemed ashamed to discover his weakness to me. While he thus hesitated between compassion and pride, I pretended to look another way, and he seized the opportunity of giving the poor petitioner a piece of silver, bidding him at the same time, in order that I should hear, go work for his bread, and not tease passengers with such impertinent falsehoods for the future.The Bee

The Bee

In addition, Goldsmith produced a great mass of hack-work, most of which is worthless as historical and scientific fact, but all of which is enlightened with the grace of his style and personality. Some of these works areAn Inquiry into the Present State of Polite Learning in Europe(1759), his first published book;The History of England(1762); andThe History of Earth and Animated Nature, a kind of text-book on natural history, which was unfinished when he died.

5. Summary.Goldsmithâ€™s work is so varied and important that it is necessary to summarize briefly. The following are its main features:

(a)Variety.In his projected Latin epitaph on Goldsmith, Johnson gives prominence to the statement that Goldsmith touched on nearly every type of writing and adorned them all:

Qui nullum fere scribendi genusNon tetigit,Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit.

Qui nullum fere scribendi genus

Non tetigit,

Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit.

(b) Itshigh qualityis also apparent. In matters of knowledge Goldsmith was deficient, but in grace, charm, and amiable good-humor he is in the first flight of our writers.

(c) As atransitional poethe is worthy of careful observation. In the mechanics of poetryâ€”such as meter, rhyme, and rhetorical devicesâ€”he follows the older tradition; but in his broad humanity of outlook, in his sympathetic treatment of natural scenes, and in the simplicity of his humor and pathos he is of the coming age.

1. Thomas Gray (1716â€“71).Gray was born in London, the son of a money-scrivener, a kind of lawyer, who was in affluent circumstances. Gray, however, owed his education largely to the self-denial of his mother; he was educated at Eton and Cambridge, at the latter of whichplaces he met Horace Walpole. With Walpole he toured Italy; then, returning to the university, he took his degree, finally settling down to a life that was little more than an elegant futility. He was offered the Laureateship, but refused it (1757); he obtained a professorship at Cambridge, but he never lectured. He wrote a little, traveled a little; but he was a man of shrinking and fastidious tastes, unapt for the rough shocks of the world, and, fortunately for himself, able to withdraw beyond them.

His first poem was theOde on a Distant Prospect of Eton College(1747), which contained gloomy moralizings on the approaching fate of those â€œlittle victims,â€ the schoolboys. Then, after years of revision and excision, appeared the famousElegy written in a Country Churchyard(1751). This poem was smooth and graceful; it contained familiar sentiments turned into admirable, quotable phrases; and so, while it was agreeably familiar, it was fresh enough to be attractive. Its popularity has been maintained to the present day. HisPindaric Odes(1757) were unsuccessful, being criticized for their obscurity.The BardandThe Progress of Poesy, the two Pindaric Odes in the book, certainly require some elucidation, especially to readers not familiar with history and literature. At the first glance Grayâ€™s odes are seen to have all the odic splendor of diction; in fact, the adornment is so thickly applied that it can almost stand alone, like a robe stiff with gems and gold lace. Yet the poems have energy and dignity. Johnson, who had a distaste for both the character and the work of Gray, cavils at the work, saying that it has a strutting dignity. â€œHe is tall by walking on tiptoe. His art and his struggle are too visible.â€

The prose work of Gray is notable. It consists partly of letters written during his travels, describing the scenes he visits. In them he shows vigor of style, a sharp eye and a generous admiration for the real beauties of nature. His descriptions, such as those of the Lake District, are quite admirable, and well in advance of the general taste of his age.

In spite of its slender bulk, Grayâ€™s achievement both in prose and verse is of great importance. He explored the origins of romance in the early Norse and Celtic legends; his sympathies with the poor and oppressed were genuine and emphatically expressed; and his treatment of nature was a great improvement upon that of his predecessors.

Johnsonâ€™s final estimate of Gray is not unfair, and we can leave the poet with it: â€œHis mind had a large grasp; his curiosity was unlimited, and his judgment cultivated; he was likely to love much where he loved at all, but he was fastidious and hard to please.â€

2. William Collins (1721â€“59).Collins was born at Chichester, and was educated at Winchester and Oxford, but all his life he was weighted with the curse of insanity, and for this reason he had to take untimely leave of the university. He tried to follow a literary career in London, but with scant success, being arrested for debt. He was released by the generosity of his publishers, and a fortunate legacy relieved him from the worst of his financial terrors. He lapsed into a mild species of melancholia, finally dying in his native city at the early age of thirty-eight.

The work of Collins is very small in bulk, and even of this scanty stock a fair proportion shows only mediocre ability. HisPersian Eclogues(1742) are in the conventional style of Pope, and though they profess to deal with Persian scenes and characters, the Oriental setting shows no special information or inspiration. The book that gives him his place in literature is hisOdes(1747), a small octavo volume of fifty-two pages. The work is a collection of odes to Pity, Fear, Simplicity, Patriotism, and kindred abstract subjects. Some of the odes are overweighted with the cumbrous creaking machinery of the Pindaric; but the best of them, especially theOde to Evening(done in unrhymed verse), are instinct with a sweet tenderness, a subdued and shadowy pathos, and a magical enchantment of phrase. In the same book two short elegies, one beginning â€œHow sleep the braveâ€ and the other on James Thomson (â€œIn yonder grave a Druid liesâ€),are as captivating, with their misty lights and murmuring echoes of melancholy, as the best of Keats. In the finest work of Collins, with his eager and wistful searching, with what Johnson morosely called his â€œflights of imagination that pass the bounds of nature,â€ we are ushered over the threshold of romance.

3. William Cowper (1731â€“1800).Cowper was born at Great Berkhampstead, in Hertfordshire, where his father was rector. He was to have been a barrister, and was actually called to the Bar (1754), but a great and morbid timidity of disposition, which increased till it became religious and suicidal mania, hampered him cruelly through life. Family influence obtained for him a good post on the clerical staff of the House of Lords, but his extreme shyness made him quite unfit for this semi-public appointment. The consequent disappointment disordered his wits, and he attempted suicide, but was fortunately prevented. The latter part of his life was spent chiefly at Olney, in Buckinghamshire, where his good friends the Unwins treated him with great kindness and good sense. His feeling of gratitude for their care, expressed or implicit in many of his poems and letters, is one of the most touching features in the literature of the time. This comparatively happy state of affairs did not last till the end, for the years immediately preceding his death were much clouded with extreme mental and bodily affliction.

Cowperâ€™s poems were produced late in life, but in bulk the work is large. It is curiously mixed and attractive in its nature. HisPoems(1782) is his first attempt at authorship. The book contains little that is noteworthy. The bulk of it is taken up with a collection of set pieces in heroic couplets, quite in the usual manner, on such subjects asThe Progress of Error, Truth, Hope, and Charity. At the very end of the volume a few miscellaneous short pieces are more encouraging as novelties. One of them is the well-known poem containing the reflections of Alexander Selkirk (â€œI am monarch of all I surveyâ€). His next work isThe Task(1785), a long poemin blank verse, dealing with simple and familiar themes and containing many fine descriptions of country scenes. In places the style is marked by the prevailing artificial tricks, and as a whole the poem is seldom inspired with any deep or passionate feeling; but his observation is acute and humane, it includes the homeliest detail within its kindly scope, and he gives us real nature, like Thomson inThe Seasons. At the end of this volume the ballad ofJohn Gilpinfinds a place. It is an excellent example of Cowperâ€™s prim but sprightly humor, an extraordinary gift for a man of his morbid temperament. Other short poems were added to later editions of his first volume. These include theEpitaph on a Hare, curiously and touchingly pathetic; linesOn the Receipt of my Motherâ€™s Picture, which reveal only too painfully the suppressed convulsions of grief and longing that were stirred within him by memories of the past; andThe Castaway, written in a lucid interval just before the end, and sounding like the wail of a damned spirit. The poem gives a tragic finality to his life. It describes the doom of a poor wretch swept overboard in a storm, and concludes:

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