entire work, which he had so long kept by him. If conjecture is admissible in a matter of this kind, it would seem most probable that what Goldsmith had already written was the purely descriptive portions; that Johnson, so to speak, "moralized the song," and that, stimulated by his critical encouragement, Goldsmith fitted these portions into the didactic framework which finally became "The Traveller." But, however this may be, Johnson's admiration of the result was genuine. Not only did he show, by enthusiastic quotation long afterwards, that it lingered in his memory, but he welcomed the poem himself in The Critical Review, and congratulated the public upon it "; as on a production to which, since the death of Pope, it would not be easy to find anything equal."

What shall be said now to that "philosophic Wanderer" -as Johnson wished to christen him-who, in Wale's vignette to the old quarto editions, surveys a conventional eighteenth-century landscape from an Alpine solitude composed of stage rocks and a fir tree, and, in Macaulay's words, "looks down on the boundless. prospect, reviews his long pilgrimage, recalls the varieties of scenery, of climate, of government, of religion, of national character, which he has observed, and comes to the conclusion, just or unjust, that our happiness depends little upon political institutions, and much on

1 In these, it has been suggested, he had Addison's "Letter from Italy" in mind, and a comparison of the two poems at once reveals certain similarities. Moreover, that Goldsmith greatly admired the "Letter from Italy" is proved by the fact that he included it both in the "Poems for Young Ladies" and the "Beauties of English Poesy."

the temper and regulation of our own minds?" We take breath, and reply that we cannot regard his conclusion as wholly just, or accept it without considerable reservation. We see difficulties in the proposition that one government is as good as another, and we doubt whether the happiness of the governed is really so independent of the actions of the governing power. But what, to-day, most interests us in "The Traveller," is its descriptive and personal rather than its didactic side. If Goldsmith's precepts leave us languid, his charming topography and his graceful memories, his tender retrospect, and his genial sympathy with humanity still invite and detain us. Most of us know the old couplets, but what_

has Time taken from them of their ancient charm ?—

"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.

Eternal blessings crown my earliest friend,
And round his dwelling guardian saints attend :
Bless'd be that spot, where cheerful guests retire
To pause from toil, and trim their ev❜ning fire;
Bless'd that abode, where want and pain repair,
And every stranger finds a ready chair:
Bless'd be those feasts with simple plenty crown'd,.
Where all the ruddy family around

Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail,

Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale,

Or press the bashful stranger to his food,
And learn the luxury of doing good.

But me, not destin'd such delights to share,
My prime of life in wand'ring spent and care;

Impell'd, with steps unceasing, to pursue

Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view;
That, like the circle bounding earth and skies,

Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies;

My fortune leads to traverse realms alone,

And find no spot of all the world my own."

Equally well-remembered are the lines in which he records the humble musical performances by which he won his way through France :

"To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign,

I turn; and France displays her bright domain.
Gay sprightly land of mirth and social ease,
Pleas'd with thyself, whom all the world can please,
How often have I led thy sportive choir,

With tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire?
Where shading elms along the margin grew,
And, freshen'd from the wave the Zephyr flew ;
And haply, though my harsh touch faltering still,
But mock'd all tune, and marr'd the dancer's skill;
Yet would the village praise my wondrous power,
And dance, forgetful of the noontide hour.

Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days

Have led their children through the mirthful maze,

And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore,

Has frisk'd beneath the burthen of threescore."

The description of Holland, "where the broad ocean leans against the land," and the lines on England, containing the familiar :

"Pride in their port, defiance in their eye

I see the lords of human kind pass by,"

which his "illustrious friend" declaimed to Boswell in the Hebrides "with such energy that the tear started into his eye," might also find a place in a less-limited memoir than the present. Fortunately, however, there is no need to speak of a poem, which for three-quarters of a century has been an educational book, as if it were an undiscovered country. Nor can it add anything to a reputation so time-honoured to say that, when it first. appeared, it obtained the suffrages of critics as various as Burke and Fox and Langton and Reynolds. The words of Johnson, spoken a century ago, are even truer now. Its merit is established; and individual praise or censure can neither augment nor diminish it.

The first edition, as we have said, appeared in December, 1764. A second, a third, and a fourth followed rapidly. There was a fifth in 1768, a sixth in 1770, and a ninth in 1774, the year of the author's death. He continued to revise it carefully up to the sixth edition, after which there do not seem to have been any further corrections. In one or two of the alterations, as in the cancelled passage in the dedication, is to be detected that reassurance as to recognition which prompts the removal of all traces of a less sanguine or prosperous past. In his first version he had spoken of his "ragged pride." In the second, this went the way of that indiscreet Latin quotation, which in the first edition of the "Enquiry" betrayed the pedestrian character of his continental experiences. But though the reception accorded to "The Traveller" was unmistakeable, even from the publisher's point of view, there is nothing to show with absolute certainty that its success

brought any additional gain to its author. The original amount paid for "Copy of the Traveller, a Poem," as recorded in the Newbery MSS., is £21. There is no note of anything further; although, looking to the fact that the same sum occurs in some memoranda of a much later date than 1764, it is just possible (as Prior was inclined to believe) that the success of the book may have been followed by a supplementary fee.