A certain Parson Scott was sent to Goldsmith to induce him to
write in favor of the administration. “I found him,” says Scott,
“in a miserable set of chambers in the temple. I told him of my
authority; I told him that I was empowered to pay most liberally
for his exertions, and, would you believe it, he was so absurd
as to say, ‘I can earn as much as will supply my wants without
writing for any party; the assistance you offer is therefore
unnecessary to me.’ And so,” said the reverend plenipotentiary,
with unstinted contempt, “I left him in his garret.” What
Goldsmith’s exact earnings were at this time, it would be
interesting to know: what sum it was that he found sufficient
for his wants; but we know that this offer came at the close of
twelve years’ desperate struggle for bread, during which his
first work had brought him little profit, and “The Vicar of
Wakefield” had been sold for £60 to pay his landlady.--W. J.
DAWSON, “The Makers of English Prose.”
(2089)