Love. But love, Fanny, makes amends for all. [Exeunt softly. SCENE IL-4 Gallery, which leads to several Bed-chambers. The Stage dark. Enter MISS STERLING, leading MRS. HEIDELBERG in a Night-cap. Miss. S. This way, dear madam, and then I'll tell you all. Miss S. Hush, madam! I hear something! Mrs. H. You frighten me-let me put on my fly-cap-I would not be seen in this figur for the world. Miss S. "Tis dark, madam; you can't be seen. Mrs. H. I protest there's a candle coming, and a man too! Miss S. Nothing but servants;-let us retire a moment! [They retire. Mrs. H. Nay but, niece-consider a little-Enter BRUSH, half drunk, laying hold of don't drag me out this figure; let me put on the Chamber-maid, who has a Candle in her Hand. my fly-cap-If any of my lord's fammaly, or the counsellors at law should be stirring, I should be perdigus disconcerted. Cham. Be quiet, Mr. Brush; I shall drop down with terror! Miss S. But, my dear madam, a moment Brush. But my sweet, and most amiable is an age, in my situation. I am sure my chambermaid, if you have no love, you may sister has been plotting my disgrace and ruin hearken to a little reason; that cannot posin that chamber! O! she's all craft and sibly do your virtue any harm. Cham. But you may do me harm, Mr. Brush, Mrs. H. Well, but softly; Betsy!-you are and a great deal of harm too; -pray let me all in emotion-your mind is too much flus-go; I am ruined if they hear you; I tremble trated-you can neither eat, nor drink, nor like an asp1). wickedness. take your natural rest- compose yourself, Brush. But they shan't hear us; and if you child; for if we are not as warisome as they have a mind to be ruined, it shall be the are wicked, we shall disgrace ourselves and making of your fortune, you little slut, you! the whole fammaly. therefore, I say it again, if you have no love, Miss S. We are disgraced already, madam. [hear a little reason! Sir John Melvil has forsaken me; my lord Cham. I wonder at your impurence 2), Mr. cares for nobody but himself; or if any body, Brush, to use me in this manner; this is not it is my sister: my father, for the sake of a the way to keep me company, I assure you. better bargain, would marry me to a 'Change You are a town-rake, I see, and now you broker: so that if you, madam, don't continue are a little in liquor you fear nothing. my friend-if you forsake me if I am to Brush. Nothing, by heavens but your lose my best hopes and consolation-in your frowns, most amiable chambermaid; I am tenderness-and' affections—I had better-at little electrified, that's the truth on't; I am not once-give up the matter-and let my sister used to drink port, and your master's is so enjoy the fruits of her treachery trample heady, that a pint of it oversets a claret drinwith scorn upon the rights of her elder sister ker. Come now, my dear little spider-the will of the best of aunts-and the weak-brusher! ness of a too interested father. a Cham. Don't be rude! bless me!-I shall [She pretends to be bursting into Tears be ruined-what will become of me? during this speech. Mrs. H. Don't, Betsy-keep up your spurrit-I hate whimpering-I am your frienddepend upon me in every particular.-But be composed, and tell me what new mischief you have discovered. Brush. I'll take care of you, by all that's honourable. Cham. You are a base man to use me so I'll cry out, if you don't let me go. That miss Sterling's chamber, that miss Fanny's, and that madam Heidelberg's. is Miss S. I had no desire to sleep, and Brush. We know all that. And that lord would not undress myself, knowing that my Ogleby's, and that my lady What-d'ye-callMachiavel sister would not rest till she had 'em's: I don't mind such folks when I'm sobroke my heart:-I was so uneasy that I ber, much less when I am whimsical-rather could not stay in my room, but when I thought above that, too. that all the house was quiet, I sent my maid Cham. More shame for you, Mr. Brush!to discover what was going forward; - she you terrify me-you have no modesty. immediately came back and told me, that Brush. O, but I have, my sweet spiderthey were in high consultation; that she had brusher-for instance, I reverence miss Fanny heard only, for it was in the dark, my sister's-she's a most delicious morsel, and fit for a maid conduct sir John Melvil to her mistress, prince. With all my horrors of matrimony, and then lock the door. I could marry her myself-but for her sisterMiss S. [Within] There, there, madam, all in a story! Cham. Bless me, Mr. Brush! - I heard Mrs. H. And how did you conduct yourself in this dilemma? Miss S. I returned with her, and could bear a man's voice, though nothing that they something! said distinctly; and you may depend upon it, Brush. Rats, I suppose, that are gnawing that sir John is now in that room, that they the old timbers of this execrable old dungeon bave settled the matter, and will run away-If it was mine, I would pull it down, and together before morning, if we don't prevent them. fill your fine canal up with the rubbish; and Mrs. H. Why, the brazen slut! she has got then I should get rid of two d-n'd things her sister's husband (that is to be) lock'd up at once. in her chamber at night too!-Í tremble at Cham. Law! law! how you blaspheme!the thoughts! ⚫) Impudence. 1) An aspen leaf, we shall have the house upon our heads] for it. Brush. No, no, it will last our time-but, as I was saying, the eldest sister — Miss Jezebelfor all your Cham. I will, I will, though I'm frighten'd out of my wits. [Exit. Mrs. H. Do you watch here, my dear; and I'll put myself in order to face them. We'll plot 'em, and counterplot 'em too. xit into her Chamber. Miss S. I have as much pleasure in this Cham. Is a fine young lady, evil tongue. Brush. No-we have smoked her already; revenge, as in being made a countess.-Ha! and unless she marries our old Swiss, she they are unlocking the door.-Now for it! can have none of us.-No, no, she won't do -we are a little too nice. Cham. You're a monstrous rake, Mr. Brush, and don't care what you say. Brush. Why, for that matter, my dear, I am a little inclined to mischief; and if you don't have pity upon me, I will break open that door, and ravish Mrs. Heidelberg. Mrs. H. [Coming forward] There's no bearing this you profligate monster! Cham. Ha! I am undone! Brush. Zounds! here she is, by all that's monstrous. [Runs off. Miss S. A fine discourse you have had with that fellow. Mrs. H. And a fine time of night it is to be here with that drunken monster! [Retires. FANNY'S Door is unlocked, and BETTY comes Miss S. And so you are, madam Betty. Bet. [Turning round] What's the matter, madam? Miss S. Nay, that you shall tell my father and aunt, madam. Bet. I am no tell-tale, madam, and no thief; they'll get nothing from me. Miss S. You have a great deal of courage, Miss S. What have you to say for yourself? Cham. I can say nothing-I'm so frightened, Betty, and considering the secrets you have and so ashamed. But indeed I am vartuous to keep, you have occasion for it. -I am vartuous, indeed. Bet. My mistress shall never repent her Enter STERLING. Mrs. H. Well, well don't tremble so; but good opinion of me, ma'am. tell us what you know of this horrable plot here. Miss S. We'll forgive you, if you'll dis cover all. Cham. Why, madam, don't let me betray my fellow-servants-I sha'n't sleep in my bed, if I do. Mrs. H. Then you shall sleep somewhere else to-morrow night. Cham. O dear! what shall I do? Mrs. H. Tell us this moment, or I'll turn you out of doors directly. Cham. Why our butler has been treating us below in his pantry-Mr. Brush forced us to make a kind of a holiday night of it. Miss S. Holiday! for what? Cham. Because as how, madam, there was a change in the family, they said. that bis honour, sir John, was to marry miss Fanny instead of your ladyship. Miss. S. And so you make a holiday for that-Very fine! Cham. I did not make it, ma'am. Mrs. H. But do you know nothing of sir John's being to run away with miss Fanny to-night? Cham. No indeed, ma'am. Miss S. Nor of his being now locked up in my sister's chamber? Ster. What's all this? What's the matter? Why am I disturb'd in this manner? Miss S. This creature, and my distresses, sir, will explain the matter. Re-enter MRS. HEIDELBERG, with another Mrs. H. Now I'm prepar'd for the rancounter.-Well, brother, have you heard of this scene of wickedness? Ster. Not I-But what is it? speak.-I was got into my little closet, all the lawyers were in bed, and I had almost lost my senses in the confusion of lord Ogleby's mortgages, when I was alarmed with a foolish girl, who could hardly speak; and whether it's fire, or thieves, or murder, or a rape, I'm quite in the dark. Mrs. H. No, no, there's no rape, brother! all parties are willing, I believe. Miss S. Who's in that chamber? [Detaining Betty, who seemed to be stealing away. Bet. My mistress. Miss S. And who's with your mistress? Miss S. Open the door then, and let us see. Cham. No, as I hope for marcy, ma'am. Mrs. H. There's impudence, brother! piping ma'am Ster. But, zounds! what is all this about? You tell me of a sum total, and you don't Tell produce the particulars. Mrs. H. I don't care how late it is. him there are thieves in the house-that the house is on fire-tell him to come here immediately-Go, I say. Mrs. H. Sir John Melvil is locked up in your daughter's bed-chamber-There is the particular, Ster. The devil he is! That's bad. very much alarmed about thieves at circuit Miss S. And he has been there some time time. They would be particularly severe with us gentlemen of the bar. too. Ster. Ditto! Trav. No danger, Mr. Sterling-no trespass, I hope? Mrs. H. Ditto! worse and worse, I say. I'll raise the house, and expose him to my lord, Ster. None, gentlemen, but of those ladies' and the whole fammaly. making. Ster. By no means! we shall expose our- Mrs. H. You'll be asham'd to know, gentleselves, sister! The best way is to insure pri- men, that all your labours and studies about vately-let me alone! I'll make him marry this young lady are thrown away-Sir John her to-morrow morning. Melvil is at this moment locked up with this Miss S. Make him marry her! this is beyond lady's younger sister. all patience!-You have thrown away all your Flow. The thing is a little extraordinary, affection, and I shall do as much by my obe- to be sure; but, why were we to be frighten'd dience; unnatural fathers make unnatural out of our beds for this? Could not we have children. My revenge is in my own power, tried this cause to-morrow morning? and I'll indulge it.-Had they made their es- Miss S. But, sir, by to-morrow morning, cape, I should have been exposed to the de- perhaps, even your assistance would not have rision of the world: but the deriders shall be been of any service-the birds now in that derided; and so-Help, help, there!—Thieves! cage would have flown away. thieves! Mrs. H. Tit-for-tat, Betsy! you are right, my girl. Ster. Zounds! you'll spoil all-you'll raise the whole family-The devil's in the girl. Enter LORD OGLEBY, in his Robe-de-cham bre, Night-cap, etc. leaning on CANTON. Lord O. I had rather lose a limb than my Mrs. H. No, no; the devil's in you, brother: night's rest. What's the matter with you all? I am ashamed of your principles. What! Ster. Ay, ay, 'tis all over!—Here's my lord, would you connive at your daughter's being too. locked up with her sister's husband? Help! Lord O. What's all this shrieking and Thieves! thieves, 1 say! [Gries out. screaming? Where's my angelic Fanny? She's Ster. Sister, I beg you! daughter, I com- safe, I hope? mand you! If you have no regard for me, Mrs. H. Your angelic Fanny, my lord, is consider yourselves!- we shall lose this op-lock'd up with your angelic nephew in that portunity of ennobling our blood, and getting chamber. above twenty per cent, for our money. Lord O. My nephew! Then will I be ex Miss S. What, by my disgrace and my communicated. sister's triumph? I have a spirit above such Mrs. H. Your nephew, my lord, has been mean considerations: and to show you that plotting to run away with miss Fanny, and it is not a low-bred, vulgar, 'Change-alley miss Fanny has been plotting to run away spirit-Help! help! Thieves! thieves! thieves, with your nephew: and if we had not watched I say! them and call'd up the fammaly, they had Ster. Ay, ay, you may save your lungs-been upon the scamper to Scotland by this the house is in an uproar. Enter CANTON, in a Night-gown and Slippers. Can. Eh, diable! vat is de raison of dis great noise, dis tintamarre? Ster. Ask those ladies, sir; 'tis of their making. time. Lord O. Lookye, ladies! I know that sir John has conceived a violent passion for miss Fanny; and I know too that miss Fanny has conceived a violent passion for another person; and I am so well convinced of the rectitude of her affections, that I will support Lord O. [Calls within] Brush!-Brush!-them with my fortune, my honour, and my Canton!-Where are you?-What's the matter? [Rings a Bell] Where are you? Ster. Tis my lord calls, Mr. Canton. Can. I com, mi lor! [Exit. L. Ogleby still rings. Flow. [Calls within] A light! a light here! -where are the servants? Bring a light for me and my brothers. life.-Eh, shan't I Mr. Sterling? [Smiling] What say you? Ster. [Sulkily] To be sure, my lord.These bawling women have been the ruin of every thing. [Aside. Lord O. But come, I'll end this business in a trice-If you, ladies, will compose your selves, and Mr. Sterling will ensure miss Fanny Ster. Lights here! lights for the gentlemen! from violence, I will engage to draw her [Exit. from her pillow with a whisper through the Mrs. H. My brother feels, I sce-your sis-key-hole. ter's turn will come next. Mrs. H. The horrid creatures!-I say, my Miss S. Ay, ay, let it go round, madam, it lord, break the door open. is the only comfort I have left. Re-enter STERLING, with Lights; before Ster. This way, sir! this way, gentlemen! Lord O. Let me beg of your delicacy not to be too precipitate! Now to our experiment! [Advancing towards the Door. Miss S. Now, what will they do? My heart will beat through my bosom. Re-enter BETTY, with the Key. Are you prepared to repulse them? I am doors, my lord; we have done nothing that we ought to be ashamed of, and my mistress shall face her enemies. Bet. I could cry my eyes out to hear his Love. By that right which makes me the happiest of men! and by a title which I [Going to unlock the Door. would not forego for any the best of kings Mrs. H. There's impudence! could give. Lord O. The mystery thickens. Lady of the bed-chamber, [To Betty] open the door, magnanimity. and entreat sir John Melvil (for the ladies will have it that he is there) to appear, and answer to high crimes and misdemeanors.-Call sir John Melvil into the court! Enter SIR JOHN MELVIL, on the other side. Sir J. What's all this alarm and confusion? Lord O. I am annihilated! Ster. I have been choaked with rage and wonder; but now I can speak.-Lovewell, you are a villain!--You have broke your word with me. Fan. Indeed, sir, he has not-you forbade him to think of me, when it was out of his power to obey you-we have been married these four months. Ster. And he shan't stay in my house four hours. What baseness and treachery! As for you, you shall repent this step as long as Lord O. Because you have been in that chamber;-have been! nay, you are there at you live, madam! this moment, as these ladies have protested, so don't deny it Trav. This is the clearest alibi I ever knew, Mr. Sergeant. Flow. Luce clarius. Fan. Indeed, sir, it is impossible to conceive the tortures I have already endured in consequence of my disobedience. My heart has continually upbraided me for it; and though I was too weak to struggle with af Lord O. Upon my word, ladies, if you fection, I feel that I must be miserable for have often these frolics, it would be really ever without your forgiveness. entertaining to pass a whole summer with Ster. Lovewell, you shall leave my house you. But come [To Betty] open the door, directly! and you shall follow him, madam! and entreat your amiable mistress to come forth and dispel all our doubts with her them into mine. Lookye, Mr. Sterling, there smiles. have been some mistakes, which we had all betBet. [Opening the Door] Madam, you are ter forget for our own sakes; and the best way wanted in this room. [Pertly. to forget them, is to forgive the cause of them; which I do from my soul.-Poor girl! Lord O. And if they do, I will receive Enter FANNY, in great confusion. Miss S. You see she's ready dressed-and I swore to support her affection with my life what confusion she's in! and fortune; 'tis a debt of honour, and ́must Mrs. H. Ready to pack off, bag and bag- be paid-You swore as much too, Mr. Stergage! Her guilt confounds her! ling; but your laws in the city will excuse you, I suppose; for you never strike a balance without-errors excepted. Flow. Silence in the court, ladies! Fan. I am confounded, indeed, madam! Lord O. Don't droop, my beauteously! Ster. I am a father, my lord; but for the but with your own peculiar modesty declare sake of all other fathers, I think I ought not to your state of mind. Pour conviction into forgive her, for fear of encouraging other silly their ears, and rapture into mine. [Smiling. girls, like herself, to throw themselves away Fan. I am at this moment the most un- without the consent of their parents. happy-most distressed-the tumult is too Love. I hope there will be no danger of much for my heart and I want the power that, sir. Young ladies, with minds like my to reveal a secret, which to conceal has been Fanny's, would startle at the very shadow of the misfortune and misery of myvice; and when they know to what uneasiness [Faints away. only an indiscretion has exposed her, her example, instead of encouraging, will rather serve to deter them. LOVEWELL rushes out of the Chamber. Love. My Fanny in danger! I can contain Mrs. H. Indiscretion, quotha! a mighty no longer! Prudence were now a crime; all pretty delicate word to express obedience! other cares were lost in this! Speak, speak, Lord O. For my part, I indulge my own speak to me, my dearest Fanny! let me but passions too much to tyrannise over those hear thy voice: open your eyes, and bless of other people. Poor souls! I pity them. me with the smallest sign of life! And you must forgive them too. Come, come, [During this Speech they are all in melt a little of your flint, Mr. Sterling! Amazement. Ster. Why, why, as to that, my lordto be sure, he is a relation of yours, my lord What say you, sister Heidelberg? Mrs. H. The girl's ruin'd, and I forgive her. Fan. [Recovering] 0, Lovewell!-even-[To Lovewell and Fanny, who seem presupported by thee, I dare not look my father paring to speak] - there's an end of the nor his lordship in the face. Ster. What now? did not I send you to London, sir? Lord O. Eh!-What! How's this? By what right and title have you been half the night in that lady's bed-chamber? matter. Lord O. But, Lovewell, what makes you dumb all this while? Love. Your kindness, my lord-I can scarce believe my own senses-they are all in a tumult of fear, joy, love, expectation, and grali as tude; I ever was, and am now more bound saved me, yourself, and that lady (who I hope in duty to your lordship.-For you, Mr. Ster-will pardon my behaviour), a great deal of ling, if every moment of my life, spent grate- uneasiness. Give me leave, however, to fully in your service, will in some measure sure you that light and capricious as I may compensate the want of fortune, you perhaps have appeared, now my infatuation is over, I will not repent your goodness to me. And have sensibility enough to be ashamed of the you, ladies, I flatter myself, will not for the part I have acted, and honour enough to refuture suspect me of artifice and intriguejoice at your happiness. shall be happy to oblige and serve you. — As Love. And now, my dearest Fanny, though for you, sir Johnwe are seemingly the happiest of beings, yet Sir J. No apologies to me, Lovewell; I do all our joys will be damped, if his lordship's not deserve any. All I have to offer in ex-generosity and Mr. Sterling's forgiveness should cuse for what has happened, is my total igno- not be succeeded by the indulgence, approbarance of your situation. Had you dealt a tion, and consent of these our best benefactors. little more openly with me, you would have [To the Audience. Exeunt. " OLIVER GOLDSMITH Was born at Elphin, in the county of Roscommon, in Ireland, November 29, 1728. His father, the Rev. Charles Goldsmith had four sons, of whom Oliver was the third. He was instructed in the classics at the school of Mr. Hughes, at Edgeworthstown, in the county of Longford; whence he was removed to Trinity College, Dublin, where be was admitted a sizar on the 11th of June 1744. At the university he exhibited no specimen of that genius which distinguished him in his maturer years. On the 27th of February 1749, O. S. (two years after the regular time), he obtained the degree of bachelor of arts. He then turned his thoughts to the profession of physic; and after attending some courses of anatomy in Dublin, proceeded to Edinburgh in the year 1751, where he studied the several branches of medicine under the different professors in that university. Here, however, that incautious spirit of benevolence, which so strongly marked his life, soon involved him in difficulties. Having imprudently engaged as security, in a considerable sum of money, for a fellow-student, who, from want either of means or of principle, failed to pay the debl, he sought to shun the horrors of imprisonment by a precipitate flight; and early in the year 1754 he reached Sunderland. In this place, however, he had not been long before he was arrested, at the suit of Mr. Barclay, a tailor in Edinburgh, the person to whom he had imprudently become security for his friend. From this difficulty he was at length released by the kindness of Dr. Sleigh and Mr. Laughlin Maclaine, whose friendship he probably acquired at the College of Edinburgh. He then embarked for Rotterdam, proceeded to Leyden, where he resided about a year, studying chemistry and anatomy, and afterwards visited a great part of Flanders and Brabant, on foot, subsisting frequeally by his voluntary performances on the German flute; his learning, we are told, made him a welcome guest to the monks, and his pipe to the peasants. After passing some time at Strasbourg and Louvain (where he obtained the sigree of bachelor in physic) he accompanied an English gentleman to Berne and Geneva. On his arrival at the latter pisce, it is said, he was recommended as a proper person to be travelling tutor to a young man who had heen unexpectedly left a considerable sum of money by his uncle, Mr. S-, a pawnbroker, near Holborn. This youth, who had been articled to an attorney, on receipt of his fortune, determined to see the world; but, on engaging with Goldsmith, as his preceptor, made a proviso that he should be permitted to govern himself; and our traveller soon found that his pupil understood extremely well the art of directing in morey concerns, for avarice was his predominant passion. During Goldsmith's continuance in Switzerland, he assiduously cultivated a poetical talent, of which he had given some promising proofs at the college of Edinburgh; and it was from hence that he sent the first sketch (about 200 lines) of his poem called The Traveller, to his brother Henry, a clergyman in Ireland, who, with a beloved wife, was living in retirement and obscurity, on an income of forty pounds a year. With a youth of a disposition so opposite to his own, as it appears his pupil was, it will not be supposed that Goldsmith could long continue. A disagreement happened on their arrival in the South of France, where the young man paid him such part of his salary as remained due, and embarked at Marseilles for England. Our wanderer was left once more upon the wide world, and encountered numberless difficulties, in traversing the greater part of France; whence, his curiosity being gratified, he bent his course toward England, and arrived at Dover in the winter of 1757-58. When he reached London, his stock of cash did not amount to two livres. lle applied to several apothecaries, in the hope of engaging himself as a journeyman; but his awkward appearance, and bead Irish accent, almost every where met with repulse and insult: at length a chemist, near Fish Street Hill, struck wah his forlorn condition, and the simplicity of his manner, employed him in his laboratory where he remained till he learned that his old friend Dr. Sleigh was in town. The worthy Doctor received Goldsmith into his family, and underteck to support him till some establishment could be procured. Goldsmith, however, unwilling to be a burden in his friend, a short time after eagerly embraced an offer which was made him, to assist the late Dr. John Milner, ■ disenting minister of eminence, in instructing the young gentlemen of the academy at Peckham. It was during the tome of his being usher at Dr. Milner's that Goldsmith commenced auth ; and the earliest performance of his, now inɔwn, was, The Memoirs of a Protestant, condemned to the Gallies of France for his Religion. Written by himself. Traned from the Original, just published at the Hague, by James Willington; 1758, two volumes, 12mo. for which Mr. Edward Dilly paid him twenty guineas. At Dr. Milner's table, sometime in the year 1758, he happened to meet with Mr. Ralph Griffiths, the originator and proprietor of The Monthly Review, who invited him to become a writer in that work, and offered him such terms as our author deemed worth acceptance, viz, lodging, board, and a libetal salary. By a written agreement, this engagement was to last for a year; but at the expiration of seven or eight months at was disolved by mutual consent; and Goldsmith took a smoky, miserable apartment, in Green Arbour Court, near the Oid Bailey, immediately over Breakneck Steps, as they are vulgarly called; where he completed a work that he lad beiure began, entitled, An Inquiry into the present State of polite Learning in Europe. This was published by Defaury in 1759, and obtained its writer some reputation. In October, of the same year, he began The Bee, a weekly publæstian, of which, however, only eight numbers were printed. In the following year he became known to Ir. Smilell, who was then editor of The British Magazine; and for that work he wrote most of those essays and tales which were afterwards collected and published in a separate volume. He also contributed occasionally to The Critical Review; in fact, it was the merit which he discovered in criticising a despicable translation of Ovid's Epistles, by a boolmaster, and his Inquiry into the present State of polite Learning, that first introduced him to the acquaintance of Dr. Smollett, who recommended him to some respectable booksellers, by whom he was afterwards patronized. Among these, Goldsmith's most fortunate connexion was with the celebrated Mr. John Newbery, of philanthropic memory, who being a principal proprietor of The Public Ledger, engaged him at a salary of 1001. a year to write a periodical paper. Our author accordingly undertook a series of what he called Chinese Letters, which were afterwards collected and pubshed in two volumes, under the title of The Citizen of the World; and they exhibit striking proofs of judgment, wit, and humour. On embarking in this undertaking, Goldsmith quitted his hovel in Green Arbour Court, removed to a decent apartment in Wine Office Court, Fleet Street, dropped the plain Mister, dubbed himself Doctor, and was afterwards commonly known and addressed as Dr. Goldsmith. Here he finished his Vicar of Wakefield; but at the ume of its completion he was mach embarrassed in his circumstances, and very apprehensive of arrest; in fact, he was a last entrapped by the following artifice. An ingenious limb of the law, yeleped a bailiff, being apprised of one of Geldsmith's foibles (a vanity of being noticed by distinguished persons), wrote a letter, stating that he was steward in a nobjeman, who was chained with reading Goldsmith's last production, and had ordered him to desire the Doctor |