Henry Esmond; The English Humourists; The Four Georges Part 76

Whether husband or wife had most of the _patience d'ange_ may be uncertain; but there can be no doubt which needed it most!

164 "_Tristram Shandy_ is still a greater object of admiration, the man as well as the book; one is invited to dinner, when he dines, a fortnight before. As to the volumes yet published, there is much good fun in them, and humour sometimes. .h.i.t and sometimes missed.

Have you read his _Sermons_, with his own comick figure, from a painting by Reynolds, at the head of them? They are in the style I think most proper for the pulpit, and show a strong imagination and a sensible heart; but you see him often tottering on the verge of laughter, and ready to throw his periwig in the face of the audience."-GRAY'S _Letters_, June 22nd, 1760.

"It having been observed that there was little hospitality in London-Johnson: 'Nay, sir, any man who has a name, or who has the power of pleasing, will be very generally invited in London. The man, Sterne, I have been told, has had engagements for three months.' Goldsmith: 'And a very dull fellow.' Johnson: 'Why, no, sir.' "-BOSWELL'S _Life of Johnson_.

"Her [Miss Monckton's] vivacity enchanted the sage, and they used to talk together with all imaginable ease. A singular instance happened one evening, when she insisted that some of Sterne's writings were very pathetic. Johnson bluntly denied it. 'I am sure,' said she, 'they have affected me.' 'Why,' said Johnson, smiling, and rolling himself about-'that is, because, dearest, you're a dunce.' When she some time afterwards mentioned this to him, he said with equal truth and politeness, 'Madam, if I had thought so, I certainly should not have said it.' "-BOSWELL's _Life of Johnson_.

165 A pa.s.sage or two from Sterne's _Sermons_ may not be without interest here. Is not the following, levelled against the cruelties of the Church of Rome, stamped with the autograph of the author of the _Sentimental Journey_?-

"To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into the prisons of the Inquisition-behold _religion_ with mercy and justice chained down under her feet,-there, sitting ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped up with racks, and instruments of torment.-Hark!-what a piteous groan!-See the melancholy wretch who uttered it, just brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock-trial, and endure the utmost pain that a studied system of _religious cruelty_ has been able to invent. Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors. _His body so wasted with sorrow and long confinement, you'll see every nerve and muscle as it suffers._ Observe the last movement of that horrid engine.-What convulsions it has thrown him into! Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies stretched.-What exquisite torture he endures by it.-'Tis all nature can bear.-Good G.o.d! see how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips, willing to take its leave, but not suffered to depart. Behold the unhappy wretch led back to his cell,-dragg'd out of it again to meet the flames-and the insults in his last agonies, which this principle-this principle, that there can be religion without morality-has prepared for him."-_Sermon 27th_.

The next extract is preached on a text to be found in Judges xix, ver. 1, 2, 3, concerning a "certain Levite":-

"Such a one the Levite wanted to share his solitude and fill up that uncomfortable blank in the heart in such a situation; for, notwithstanding all we meet with in books, in many of which, no doubt, there are a good many handsome things said upon the secrets of retirement, &c.... yet still, '_it is not good for man to be alone_': nor can all which the cold-hearted pedant stuns our ears with upon the subject, ever give one answer of satisfaction to the mind; in the midst of the loudest vauntings of philosophy, nature will have her yearnings for society and friends.h.i.+p;-a good heart wants some object to be kind to-and the best parts of our blood, and the purest of our spirits, suffer most under the dest.i.tution.

"Let the torpid monk seek Heaven comfortless and alone. G.o.d speed him! For my own part, I fear I should never so find the way; _let me be wise and religious, but let me be_ MAN; wherever Thy Providence places me, or whatever be the road I take to Thee, give me some companion in my journey, be it only to remark to, 'How our shadows lengthen as our sun goes down';-to whom I may say, 'How fresh is the face of Nature! how sweet the flowers of the field! how delicious are these fruits!' "-_Sermon 18th._

The first of these pa.s.sages gives us another drawing of the famous "Captive". The second shows that the same reflection was suggested to the Rev. Laurence, by a text in Judges, as by the _fille-de-chambre_.

Sterne's _Sermons_ were published as those of "Mr. Yorick".

166 "I am glad that you are in love-'twill cure you at least of the spleen, which has a bad effect on both man and woman-I myself must even have some Dulcinea in my head; it harmonizes the soul; and in these cases I first endeavour to make the lady believe so, or rather, I begin first to make myself believe that I am in love-but I carry on my affairs quite in the French way, sentimentally-_l'amour_ (say they) _n'est rien sans sentiment_. Now, notwithstanding they make such a pother about the _word_, they have no precise idea annexed to it. And so much for that same subject called love."-STERNE'S _Letters_, May 23rd, 1765.

"PS.-My _Sentimental Journey_ will please Mrs. J-- and my Lydia [his daughter, afterwards Mrs. Medalle]-I can answer for those two. It is a subject which works well, and suits the frame of mind I have been in for some time past. I told you my design in it was to teach us to love the world and our fellow creatures better than we do-so it runs most upon those gentler pa.s.sions and affections which aid so much to it."-_Letters_ [1767].

167 TO MRS. H--.

"c.o.xwould, Nov. 15th, 1767.

"Now be a good, dear woman, my H--, and execute those commissions well, and when I see you I will give you a kiss-there's for you! But I have something else for you which I am fabricating at a great rate, and that is my _Sentimental Journey_, which shall make you cry as much as it has affected me, or I will give up the business of sentimental writing ...

"I am yours, &c. &c.,

"T. SHANDY."

TO THE EARL OF --.

"c.o.xwould, Nov. 28th, 1767.

"MY LORD-'Tis with the greatest pleasure I take my pen to thank your lords.h.i.+p for your letter of inquiry about Yorick-he was worn out, both his spirits and body, with the _Sentimental Journey_; 'tis true, then, an author must feel himself, or his reader will not-but I have torn my whole frame into pieces by my feelings-I believe the brain stands as much in need of recruiting as the body; therefore I shall set out for town the twentieth of next month, after having recruited myself a week at York. I might indeed solace myself with my wife (who is come from France), but, in fact, I have long been a sentimental being, whatever your lords.h.i.+p may think to the contrary."

168 "It is known that Sterne died in hired lodgings, and I have been told that his attendants robbed him even of his gold sleeve-b.u.t.tons while he was expiring."-DR. FERRIAR.

"He died at No. 41 (now a cheesemonger's) on the west side of Old Bond Street.-_Handbook of London._"

169 "In February, 1768, Laurence Sterne, his frame exhausted by long debilitating illness, expired at his lodgings in Bond Street, London. There was something in the manner of his death singularly resembling the particulars detailed by Mrs. Quickly, as attending that of Falstaff, the compeer of Yorick for infinite jest, however unlike in other particulars. As he lay on his bed totally exhausted, he complained that his feet were cold, and requested the female attendant to chafe them. She did so, and it seemed to relieve him.

He complained that the cold came up higher; and whilst the a.s.sistant was in the act of chafing his ankles and legs, he expired without a groan. It was also remarkable that his death took place much in the manner which he himself had wished; and that the last offices were rendered him, not in his own house, or by the hand of kindred affection, but in an inn, and by strangers.

"We are well acquainted with Sterne's features and personal appearance, to which he himself frequently alludes. He was tall and thin, with a hectic and consumptive appearance."-SIR WALTER SCOTT.

170 "With regard to Sterne, and the charge of licentiousness which presses so seriously upon his character as a writer, I would remark that there is a sort of knowingness, the wit of which depends, firstly, on the modesty it gives pain to; or, secondly, on the innocence and innocent ignorance over which it triumphs; or thirdly, on a certain oscillation in the individual's own mind between the remaining good and the encroaching evil of his nature-a sort of dallying with the devil-a fluxionary art of combining courage and cowardice, as when a man snuffs a candle with his fingers for the first time, or better still, perhaps, like that trembling daring with which a child touches a hot tea-urn, because it has been forbidden; so that the mind has its own white and black angel; the same or similar amus.e.m.e.nt as may be supposed to take place between an old debauchee and a prude-the feeling resentment, on the one hand, from a prudential anxiety to preserve appearances and have a character; and, on the other, an inward sympathy with the enemy. We have only to suppose society innocent, and then nine-tenths of this sort of wit would be like a stone that falls in snow, making no sound, because exciting no resistance; the remainder rests on its being an offence against the good manners of human nature itself.

"This source, unworthy as it is, may doubtless be combined with wit, drollery, fancy, and even humour; and we have only to regret the misalliance; but that the latter are quite distinct from the former, may be made evident by abstracting in our imagination the morality of the characters of Mr. Shandy, my Uncle Toby, and Trim, which are all antagonists to this spurious sort of wit, from the rest of _Tristram Shandy_, and by supposing, instead of them, the presence of two or three callous debauchees. The result will be pure disgust.

Sterne cannot be too severely censured for thus using the best dispositions of our nature as the panders and condiments for the basest."-COLERIDGE, _Literary Remains_, vol. i, pp. 141, 142.

171 "He was a friend to virtue, and in his most playful pages never forgets what is due to it. A gentleness, delicacy, and purity of feeling distinguishes whatever he wrote, and bears a correspondence to the generosity of a disposition which knew no bounds but his last guinea....

"The admirable ease and grace of the narrative, as well as the pleasing truth with which the princ.i.p.al characters are designed, make the _Vicar of Wakefield_ one of the most delicious morsels of fict.i.tious composition on which the human mind was ever employed.

"... We read the _Vicar of Wakefield_ in youth and in age-we return to it again and again, and bless the memory of an author who contrives so well to reconcile us to human nature."-SIR WALTER SCOTT.

172 "Now Herder came," says Goethe in his Autobiography, relating his first acquaintance with Goldsmith's masterpiece, "and together with his great knowledge brought many other aids, and the later publications besides. Among these he announced to us the _Vicar of Wakefield_ as an excellent work, with the German translation of which he would make us acquainted by reading it aloud to us himself....

"A Protestant country clergyman is perhaps the most beautiful subject for a modern idyl; he appears like Melchizedeck, as priest and king in one person. To the most innocent situation which can be imagined on earth, to that of a husbandman, he is, for the most part, united by similarity of occupation as well as by equality in family relations.h.i.+ps; he is a father, a master of a family, an agriculturist, and thus perfectly a member of the community. On this pure, beautiful, earthly foundation rests his higher calling; to him is it given to guide men through life, to take care of their spiritual education, to bless them at all the leading epochs of their existence, to instruct, to strengthen, to console them, and if consolation is not sufficient for the present, to call up and guarantee the hope of a happier future. Imagine such a man with pure human sentiments, strong enough not to deviate from them under any circ.u.mstances, and by this already elevated above the mult.i.tude of whom one cannot expect purity and firmness; give him the learning necessary for his office, as well as a cheerful, equable activity, which is even pa.s.sionate, as it neglects no moment to do good-and you will have him well endowed. But at the same time add the necessary limitation, so that he must not only pause in a small circle, but may also, perchance, pa.s.s over to a smaller; grant him good nature, placability, resolution, and everything else praiseworthy that springs from a decided character, and over all this a cheerful spirit of compliance, and a smiling toleration of his own failings and those of others,-then you will have put together pretty well the image of our excellent Wakefield.

"The delineation of this character on his course of life through joys and sorrows, the ever-increasing interest of the story, by the combination of the entirely natural with the strange and the singular, make this novel one of the best which has ever been written; besides this, it has the great advantage that it is quite moral, nay, in a pure sense, Christian-represents the reward of a goodwill and perseverance in the right, strengthens an unconditional confidence in G.o.d, and attests the final triumph of good over evil; and all this without a trace of cant or pedantry. The author was preserved from both of these by an elocution of mind that shows itself throughout in the form of irony, by which this little work must appear to us as wise as it is amiable. The author, Dr.

Goldsmith, has, without question, a great insight into the moral world, into its strength and its infirmities; but at the same time he can thankfully acknowledge that he is an Englishman, and reckon highly the advantages which his country and his nation afford him.

The family, with the delineation of which he occupies himself, stands upon one of the last steps of citizen comfort, and yet comes in contact with the highest; its narrow circle, which becomes still more contracted, touches upon the great world through the natural and civil course of things; this little skiff floats on the agitated waves of English life, and in weal or woe it has to expect injury or help from the vast fleet which sails around it.

"I may suppose that my readers know this work, and have it in memory; whoever hears it named for the first time here, as well as he who is induced to read it again, will thank me."-GOETHE, _Truth and Poetry; from my own Life_ (English translation, vol. i, pp.

378-9).

"He seems from infancy to have been compounded of two natures, one bright, the other blundering; or to have had fairy gifts laid in his cradle by the 'good people' who haunted his birthplace, the old goblin mansion, on the banks of the Inny.

"He carries with him the wayward elfin spirit, if we may so term it, throughout his career. His fairy gifts are of no avail at school, academy, or college: they unfit him for close study and practical science, and render him heedless of everything that does not address itself to his poetical imagination, and genial and festive feelings; they dispose him to break away from restraint, to stroll about hedges, green lanes, and haunted streams, to revel with jovial companions, or to rove the country like a gipsy in quest of odd adventures....

"Though his circ.u.mstances often compelled him to a.s.sociate with the poor, they never could betray him into companions.h.i.+p with the depraved. His relish for humour, and for the study of character, as we have before observed, brought him often into convivial company of a vulgar kind; but he discriminated between their vulgarity and their amusing qualities, or rather wrought from the whole store familiar features of life which form the staple of his most popular writings."-WAs.h.i.+NGTON IRVING.

173 "The family of Goldsmith, Goldsmyth, or, as it was occasionally written, Gouldsmith, is of considerable standing in Ireland, and seems always to have held a respectable station in society. Its origin is English, supposed to be derived from that which was long settled at Crayford in Kent."-PRIOR'S _Life of Goldsmith_.

Oliver's father, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather were clergymen; and two of them married clergymen's daughters.

174 At church with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway, And fools who came to scoff remain'd to pray.

The service past, around the pious man, With steady zeal each honest rustic ran; E'en children follow'd with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown to share the good man's smile.

His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest, Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distrest; To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.

As some tall cliff that lifts his awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal suns.h.i.+ne settles on its head.

_The Deserted Village._

175 "In May this year (1768), he lost his brother, the Rev. Henry Goldsmith, for whom he had been unable to obtain preferment in the Church....

"....To the curacy of Kilkenny West, the moderate stipend of which, forty pounds a year, is sufficiently celebrated by his brother's lines. It has been stated that Mr. Goldsmith added a school, which, after having been held at more than one place in the vicinity, was finally fixed at Lissoy. Here his talents and industry gave it celebrity, and under his care the sons of many of the neighbouring gentry received their education. A fever breaking out among the boys about 1765, they dispersed for a time, but rea.s.sembling at Athlone, he continued his scholastic labours there until the time of his death, which happened, like that of his brother, about the forty-fifth year of his age. He was a man of an excellent heart and an amiable disposition."-PRIOR'S _Goldsmith_.

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee: Still to my brother turns with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.

_The Traveller_.

176 "When Goldsmith died, half the unpaid bill he owed to Mr. William Filby (amounting in all to 79_l_.) was for clothes supplied to this nephew Hodson."-FORSTER'S _Goldsmith_, p. 520.