OLIVER GOLDSMITH'S LIFE AND TIMES. [BOOK m.
1759. " waggon of industry;" not yet despairing, it might be, to be
JEtjiil. overtaken again by his old " vanity whim.;" and with such
help, even hopeful to come up with the "landau of riches/'
and find lodgment at last in the " fame machine." We note
this pleasant current of his thoughts in the Bee's fifth
number. There, in that last conveyance he places Addison,
Steele, Swift, Pope, and Congreve; and, vainly stretching
out a number of his own little blue-backed book to entice
the goodly company, resolves to be useful since he may not
be ambitious, and to earn by assiduity what merit does not
open to him. But not the less cheerfully does he concede
to others, what for himself he may not yet command. He
shuts fame's door, indeed, on Arthur Murphy, but opens it
to Hume and to Johnson.: he closes it against Smollett's
History, but opens it to his Peregrine Pickle and his
Roderick Random. And with this paper, I doubt not,
began Iris first fellowship of letters in a higher than the
Grub-street region. Shortly after this, I trace Smollett to
his door; and, for what he had said of the author of the
Rambler, Johnson soon grasped his hand. " This was a
" very grave personage, whom at some distance I took for
" one of the most reserved and even disagreeable figures I
" had seen; but as he approached, Ms appearance improved ;
" and when I could distinguish him. thoroughly, I perceived
" that in spite of the severity of his brow, he had one
" of the most goodnatured countenances that could be
"imagined." In that sentence lay the germ of one of the
pleasantest pf literary friendships.
The poor essayist's habits, however, know little change
as yet. His single chair and his window-bench have but to
accommodate Mr. WiUde's devil, waiting for proofs; or
Mr. Wilkie himself, resolute for arrears of copy. The land-