"First let me tell you what you should not have done. "You should not have allowed them when they were rich and had plenty to spend all their money in riotous living, but should have taught them to live soberly, and lay up a portion of their gains for an evil day. "You should not have encouraged them to make such a quantity of goods, as to undersell and interfere with each other. "You should not have expected that the people of other nations would not learn to make goods for themselves. "You should not have relied on selling your goods to people who either cannot or will not buy them. "You should not have thought of shutting up people in great prisons, and separating husbands, and wives, and families, one from another. 66 And, above all, you should never on any account have allowed your subjects to let their own fields go out of tillage, so as to depend on their neighbours for the staff of life." "How very prosy the old woman is," whispered the minister. "Ay, ay, I am prosy enough," said Mother Prudence, whose ears were sharp as needles. "But you must listen to what I say, or you will never get out of the scrape you are in. Here you are letting the people of the country starve, when there are thousands of acres in the country uncultivated, and rich countries uninhabited all over the world, and ships rotting in your harbours, and money lying idle in your bankers'. It is not one thing that will help you, but you must use all the means at hand. Some of the people must be sent to other lands, some set to work at home. Give them spades, and hoes, and seed, and land, and do not doubt they will soon get plenty of bread and cheese, and beer. But there is another thing more important than all. You must teach them their duties, and make them ashamed of being idle, and drunken, and riotous. Train up their children in good, honest ways: in short, make them virtuous, and you will make them happy." 66 Well, now I do hope the old woman's sermon is over," whispered the prime minister. "Yes," said the queen, " and a very good sermon it is; and if my present ministers do not profit by it, I will try if I cannot find those who will." So saying, she went up and thanked the old fairy, and so earnestly begged that she would come and live with her, that Old Mother Prudence consented thenceforth to become an inmate of Queen Nicelinda's palace. "But if I am to live at court," said she, "I must put on my court dress." Upon these words her long nose and chin dropped from her face, her humped back vanished, her old cloak and stick dropped to the ground, and she stood before the astonished council in the shape of a young and beautiful fairy. "And now let me tell you," said she, in a soft sweet voice, "that though I commonly go by the name of Prudence, my real name is Charity." If thus He bled, that only SON If the green tree kindled, how O therefore flee the gates of hell, Render thanks to CHRIST on high; OLIVER GOLDSMITH. CHAPTER II. IN 1747, Goldsmith was entered as a sizer, or poor scholar, at Trinity College, Dublin. At this time this class of students were distinguished from the others, not only by their dress, but also by the menial offices they had to discharge. At these Goldsmith was not a little annoyed, in consequence of the false pride by which he was tormented. Nor was he so fortunate in the tutor under whose care he was more especially placed, as to have his mind directed in a proper channel. The Rev. T. Wilder was devoted to mathematics; Goldsmith's tastes led him to cultivate the classics. To the former branch of study he had a marked and insuperable aversion. His tutor, irascible in the extreme, instead of striving to lead and guide, gave way to constant bursts of passion, and rated the young student in the presence of his compeers. This, of course, had the effect of increasing Goldsmith's hatred of the exact sciences, and not a few heard him declare from time to time, that the meanest intellects were competent to mathematical studies. The death of his father placed him in very straitened circumstances; and although his friends, and especially his generous uncle, contributed to his support, he was oftentimes compelled to have recourse to most unworthy means of obtaining money. At times he would despond beyond measure; at times be full of hope. Whilst in this predicament, he began to exercise his poetical powers in the composition of street ballads, "which he privately sold for five shillings each at a shop which dealt in such small wares of literature." He felt an author's affection for these unknown bantlings, and, we are told, would stroll privately through the streets at night to hear them sung, listening to the comments and criticisms of the bystanders, and observing the degree of applause which each received. Led away by evil companions, and guided by no advice or words of caution from his seniors, Goldsmith became implicated in an affair which well nigh ended in his expulsion. His narrow escape seemed to exercise a salutary check upon him for a while, as in a month afterwards he obtained one of the lesser college prizes. Success was fatal; the very evening he obtained his distinction witnessed his degradation. He celebrated his achievement by inviting a large supper-party to his rooms. The noise they made and the disturbance they created attracted the attention of Wilder, who instantly rushed into the room, and summarily dismissed the guests. This was too much for Goldsmith to bear; he had no firmness of character, no moral courage. He dreaded to meet his companions again; and, above all, he could no longer brook the overbearing tyranny of his tutor. He resolved, therefore, to leave the College forthwith, and emigrate he neither knew nor cared whither. To accomplish his design, and to provide the necessary funds, he disposed of his books and clothes, and then remained in Dublin until he had expended all but a solitary shilling, with which he set out upon his journey. This lasted him for three days, and, when it was finished, he was twenty-four hours without food. This brought him to see the error he had committed, and the pitiable plight into which his rashness had led him. He wrote at once an account of his situation to his brother Henry, by whose intercession a reconciliation was effected between Wilder and himself, and he returned once more to the university. Among the anecdotes told of him while at college, says Washington Irving, is one indicative of that prompt, but thoughtless and often whimsical, benevolence, which throughout life formed one of the most eccentric yet endearing points of his character. He was engaged to break fast one day with a college intimate, but failed to make his appearance. His friend repaired to his room, knocked at his door, and was bidden to enter. To his surprise he found Goldsmith in his bed, immersed to his chin in feathers. A seriocomic story explained the circumstance. In the course of the previous evening's stroll he had met with a woman with five children who implored his charity. Her husband was in the hospital; she was just from the country, a stranger, and destitute, without food or shelter for her helpless offspring. This was too much for the kind heart of Goldsmith. He was almost as poor as herself, it is true, and had no money in his pocket; but he brought her to the college gate, gave her the blankets from his bed to cover her little brood, and part of his clothes for her to sell, and purchase food; and finding himself cold during the night, he had cut open his bed, and buried himself among the feathers. In February, 1749, he took his B.A. degree, quitted the university, and took up his residence with his Uncle Contarine, who even still continued to cherish the hopes he had formerly entertained of Goldsmith's success. By the advice of his friends he began to prepare for holy orders, and during this time sojourned first with one relative and then with another; though as much as he could with his brother, who was now discharging faithfully the duties of his country curacy. The tender affection Goldsmith felt for his brother, and the happiness he had experienced in his domestic circle among his children, are beautifully described in the "Traveller." "Where'er I roam, whatever realms I see, Eternal blessings crown my earliest friend, Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail, During this interval he appears to have given his mind to no course of study, or to have thought seriously about the weighty office he contemplated taking upon himself. His time passed in desultory and unprofitable reading, or in joining in those happy and innocent sports of the village which marked the parishes of olden times, and which we hope in all their purity will mark them once again. To this he alludes in his exquisite and unequalled picture of the "Happy Village." "How often have I bless'd the coming day, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round." THE CHURCH.-He that helpeth to build God's house, layeth the foundation of his own.-FULLER. The influence of a pious example descends downwards from the head of a family, diffuses itself over the main body, till it reaches to the very lowest of it.-SEED. |