PERSONAL TRAITS.
The foregoing extracts will sufficiently show what were the chief
characteristics of Goldsmith's writing at this time--the grace and
ease of style, a gentle and sometimes pathetic thoughtfulness, and,
above all, when he speaks in the first person, a delightful vein of
humorous self-disclosure. Moreover, these qualities, if they were not
immediately profitable to the booksellers, were beginning to gain for
him the recognition of some of the well-known men of the day. Percy,
afterwards Bishop of Dromore, had made his way to the miserable garret
of the poor author. Smollett, whose novels Goldsmith preferred to his
History, was anxious to secure his services as a contributor to the
forthcoming _British Magazine_. Burke had spoken of the pleasure given
him by Goldsmith's review of the _Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas
of the Sublime and Beautiful_. But, to crown all, the great Cham
himself sought out this obscure author, who had on several occasions
spoken with reverence and admiration of his works; and so began what
is perhaps the most interesting literary friendship on record. At what
precise date Johnson first made Goldsmith's acquaintance, is not
known; Mr. Forster is right in assuming that they had met before the
supper in Wine-Office Court, at which Mr. Percy was present. It is a
thousand pities that Boswell had not by this time made his appearance
in London. Johnson, Goldsmith, and all the rest of them are only
ghosts until the pertinacious young laird of Auchinleck comes on the
scene to give them colour, and life, and form. It is odd enough that
the very first remarks of Goldsmith's which Boswell jotted down in his
notebook, should refer to Johnson's systematic kindness towards the
poor and wretched. "He had increased my admiration of the goodness of
Johnson's heart by incidental remarks in the course of conversation,
such as, when I mentioned Mr. Levett, whom he entertained under his
roof, 'He is poor and honest, which is recommendation enough to
Johnson'; and when I wondered that he was very kind to a man of whom I
had heard a very bad character, 'He is now become miserable, and that
ensures the protection of Johnson.'"
For the rest, Boswell was not well-disposed towards Goldsmith, whom he
regarded with a jealousy equal to his admiration of Johnson; but it is
probable that his description of the personal appearance of the
awkward and ungainly Irishman is in the main correct. And here also it
may be said that Boswell's love of truth and accuracy compelled him to
make this admission: "It has been generally circulated and believed
that he (Goldsmith) was a mere fool in conversation; but, in truth,
this has been greatly exaggerated." On this exaggeration--seeing that
the contributor to the _British Magazine_ and the _Public Ledger_ was
now becoming better known among his fellow authors--a word or two may
fitly be said here. It pleased Goldsmith's contemporaries, who were
not all of them celebrated for their ready wit, to regard him as a
hopeless and incurable fool, who by some strange chance could produce
literature, the merits of which he could not himself understand. To
Horace Walpole we owe the phrase which describes Goldsmith as an
"inspired idiot." Innumerable stories are told of Goldsmith's
blunders; of his forced attempts to shine in conversation; of poor
Poll talking nonsense, when all the world was wondering at the beauty
of his writing. In one case we are told he was content to admit, when
dictated to, that this, and not that, was what he really had meant in
a particular phrase. Now there can be no question that Goldsmith,
conscious of his pitted face, his brogue, and his ungainly figure, was
exceedingly nervous and sensitive in society, and was anxious, as such
people mostly are, to cover his shyness by an appearance of ease, if
not even of swagger; and there can be as little question that he
occasionally did and said very awkward and blundering things. But our
Japanese friend, whom we mentioned in our opening pages, looking
through the record that is preserved to us of those blunders which are
supposed to be most conclusive as to this aspect of Goldsmith's
character, would certainly stare. "Good heavens," he would cry, "did
men ever live who were so thick-headed as not to see the humour of
this or that 'blunder'; or were they so beset with the notion that
Goldsmith was only a fool, that they must needs be blind?" Take one
well-known instance. He goes to France with Mrs. Horneck and her two
daughters, the latter very handsome young ladies. At Lille the two
girls and Goldsmith are standing at the window of the hotel,
overlooking the square in which are some soldiers; and naturally the
beautiful young Englishwomen attract some attention. Thereupon
Goldsmith turns indignantly away, remarking that elsewhere he also has
his admirers. Now what surgical instrument was needed to get this
harmless little joke into any sane person's head? Boswell may perhaps
be pardoned for pretending to take the incident _au sérieux_; for as
has just been said, in his profound adoration of Johnson, he was
devoured by jealousy of Goldsmith; but that any other mortal should
have failed to see what was meant by this little bit of humorous
flattery is almost incredible. No wonder that one of the sisters
afterwards referring to this "playful jest," should have expressed her
astonishment at finding it put down as a proof of Goldsmith's envious
disposition. But even after that disclaimer, we find Mr. Croker, as
quoted by Mr. Forster, solemnly doubting "whether the vexation so
seriously exhibited by Goldsmith was real or assumed"!
Of course this is an extreme case; but there are others very similar.
"He affected," says Hawkins, "Johnson's style and manner of
conversation, and, when he had uttered, as he often would, a laboured
sentence, so tumid as to be scarce intelligible, would ask if that was
not truly Johnsonian?" Is it not truly dismal to find such an
utterance coming from a presumably reasonable human being? It is not
to be wondered at that Goldsmith grew shy--and in some cases had to
ward off the acquaintance of certain of his neighbours as being too
intrusive--if he ran the risk of having his odd and grave humours so
densely mistranslated. The fact is this, that Goldsmith was possessed
of a very subtle quality of humour, which is at all times rare, but
which is perhaps more frequently to be found in Irishmen than among
other folks. It consists in the satire of the pretence and pomposities
of others by means of a sort of exaggerated and playful
self-depreciation. It is a most delicate and most delightful form of
humour; but it is very apt to be misconstrued by the dull. Who can
doubt that Goldsmith was good-naturedly laughing at himself, his own
plain face, his vanity, and his blunders, when he professed to be
jealous of the admiration excited by the Miss Hornecks; when he
gravely drew attention to the splendid colours of his coat; or when he
no less gravely informed a company of his friends that he had heard a
very good story, but would not repeat it, because they would be sure
to miss the point of it?
This vein of playful and sarcastic self-depreciation is continually
cropping up in his essay writing, as, for example, in the passage
already quoted from No. IV. of the _Bee_: "I conclude, that what my
reputation wants in extent, is made up by its solidity. _Minus juvat
gloria lata quam magna_. I have great satisfaction in considering the
delicacy and discernment of those readers I have, and in ascribing my
want of popularity to the ignorance or inattention of those I have
not." But here, no doubt, he remembers that he is addressing the world
at large, which contains many foolish persons; and so, that the
delicate raillery may not be mistaken, he immediately adds, "All the
world may forsake an author, but vanity will never forsake him." That
he expected a quicker apprehension on the part of his intimates and
acquaintances, and that he was frequently disappointed, seems pretty
clear from those very stories of his "blunders." We may reasonably
suspect, at all events, that Goldsmith was not quite so much of a fool
as he looked; and it is far from improbable that when the ungainly
Irishman was called in to make sport for the Philistines--and there
were a good many Philistines in those days, if all stories be
true--and when they imagined they had put him out of countenance, he
was really standing aghast, and wondering how it could have pleased
Providence to create such helpless stupidity.