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that of the robbery, is said to be borrowed from
Mr. Colman, who was then a manager of the theatre,
The last theatrical piece the Doctor produced, was
The Doctor mnight, with a little attention to prudence and economy, have placed himself in a state above want and dependence. He is said to have acquired, in one year, one thousand eight hundred pounds; and the advantages arising from his writings were very considerable for many years before his death. But these were rendered useless by an im. provident liberality, which prevented his distinguishing properly the objects of his generosity; and an unhappy attachment to gaming, with the arts of which he was very little acquainted. He therefore remained at times as much embarrassed in his
cumstances, as when his income was in its lowest and most precarious state.
He had been for some years, at different times, nected with a violent stranguary, which contributeu to embitter the latter part of his life, and which, united with the vexations he suffered upon other occasions brought on a kind of habitual despondency.
this condition he was attacked by a nervous ever, which, in spite of the most able medical assistance, terminated in his dissolution on the 4th y of April, 1774, in the forty-fifth year of his age.
is remains were deposited in the burial-ground elonging to the Temple, and a monument hath ince been erected to his memory in Westminster
bey, at the expence of a literary club to which he
belonged. It consists of a large medallion, exhibiting a good likeness of the Doctor, embellished with literary ornaments; underneath which is a tablet of white marble, with the following inscription, written by his friend Dr. Samuel Johnson,
to the Memory of
. Or draw tears :
Over the affections,
Equal to every subject :
Pure and delicate,
His memory will last
Friendship is not void of Honor,
29th Nov. 1731.
4th April, 1774.
TO THE REV. HENRY GOLDSMITH. Dear Sir,
T Am sensible that the friendship between us can
acquire no new force from the ceremonies of a Dedication; and perhaps it demands an excuse thus to prefix your name to my attempts, which you de cline giving with your own. But as a part of this Poem was formerly written to you from Switzerland, the whole can now, with propriety, be only inscribed to you. It will also throw a light upon many parts of it, when the reader understands that it is addressed to a man, who, despising Fame and Fortune, has retired early to Happiness and Obscurity, with an income of forty pounds a year.
I now perceive, my dear brother, the wisdom of your humble choice. You have entered upon a sacred office, where the harvest is great, and the labourers are but few; while you have left the field of Ambition, where the labourers are many, and the harvest not worth carrying away. But of all kinds of ambition, what from the refinement of the times, from different systems of criticism, and from the divisions of party, that which pursues poetical fame is the wildest.
Poetry makes a principal amusement among un. polished nations; but in a country verging to the extremes of refinement, Painting and Music come in for a share. As these offer the feeble mind a less laborious entertainment, they at first rival Poetry, and at length supplant her; they engross all that favor once shewn to her, and though but younger sisters, seize upon the elder's birth-right.
Yet, however this art may be neglected by the