The Sun.
London, England, 1864-01-08 00:00:00

Lord Carlisle on Oliver Goldsmith.

In his address at the ivauguration of the Gold•
smith statute at Dublin, on Tuesday, Lord Carlisle
said :—" We contemplate a career (Goldsmith's) not
free from imprudence, from error, or even from
ridicule, but redeemed by the most guileless sim-
plicity, by the most romantic benevolence, and
by the most manly independence. (Cheers.)
We contemplate a genius of which no more
accurate or pithy summary can be given than in the
words which his great friend, Dr. Johnson, inscribed
upon the stone which bears his name in Westminster
Abbey There was no style of composition which he
did not essay—none he essayed which he did not
adorn.' But of so much variety and so much excel-
lence, if I were called upon to select the most strik-
ing specimens, I should naturally name The
Deserted Village,' The Traveller,' and above
all, perhaps ' The Vicar of Wakefield.' Why
the walls of the Royal Academy of England would
not know themselves if a single year came round
without exhibiting a subji_ct from the ' Vicar of
Wakefield.' Still, novelist, historian, satirist, essay-
ist, dramatist as he may be, it is mainly as a poet
that we represent to ourselves Oliver Goldsmith. It
I were to search for an adjective by which to dis-
tinguish his poetry, I do not think I could find one
so fitting as exquisite.' Others have soared to
greater heights, and shed intenser light in the
poetical heaven ; but where was ever combined
more perfect rhythm, more mellow harmony, more
refined simplicity, more graceful truth ? Short as
my limits must needs be, I would justify my
praise by the most convincing process I could
use, by recalling a few notes of music of his
strain to your, I am sure, not unaccustomed
ears. (Cheers.) Take the decline of a virtuous
old age—lines I once heard with singular effect ap-
plied by Lord Brougham to Mr. Wilberforce. (Here
his Excellency repeated the passage commencing
with the line,' For him no wretches born to work
and weep.') From this it is no violent transition to
the country clergyman. It is very refreshing to
observe how Goldsmith, amidst all his own irregu-
larities and weaknesses, cherished in his heart of
hearts the most genuine and fervid sympathy with
goodness. In the case before us this feeling is pro-
bably heightened by both his filial and fraternal
affection. (Here his Excellency quoted the pas-
sage commencing, At church, with meek and
unaffected grace,' and proceeded.) Goldsmith
had a most happy gift of satire. I consider
Pope to have been the greatest master that
ever lived, both of the most exquisite
panegyric and one of the most fierce and flaying
invective. Between these two extremes Goldsmith
could hit off the character of his acquaintance
with a touch that was keen, incisive, but never
ungentle. (Hear, hear.) Thus, ho said, of his
great friend Edmund Burke, of wham I shall still
have to say a word more—(His Excellency here
quoted the passage beginning with the line Here
lies our great Edmund, whose genius was such.')
Then of Garrick—
Here lies David Garrick, describe him who can,
An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man, &c.
It is difficult to say in these instances whether the
praise or blame predominates, as must naturally
happen when mixed characters are the subject,
save only when he comes to Sir Joshua Reynolds,
Of whom he felt and delighted to fee), that there
was nothing but praise to be spoken. I re-
member no English poet except, indeed,
it be Milton—who made more harmonious use of
proper names in his verses. (His excellency re-
peated the lines in which occur Oa hire's cliff, as
Arno's shelvy side.") I remember consoling my-
self with that couplet for a whole day when I was
becalmed off the mouth of the Altama. But, above
all, the passage I quote too, for other reasons, not
the least of these being that it seems to me to be
strung to the highest chord in the whole compass
of his lyre—
And then, sweet Poetry I thou loveliest maid, &c.
Hence the full burst of harmony—

Farewell! and, oh, where'er th 3 voice be tried, &c.
Well, these tables are turned, at all events. Why
are we not here to-day, the goodliest of the city—
rank, amiability, talent, beauty—but to pay honour
to what he thought neglected and decried, to what
was his shame in crowds ? Here, in front of his own
university, where he was the obscure sizar, but
where he has given occasion to every sizar since to
feel proud of his position; even here, where we are
told that he was laid prostrate on the floor by his
brutal tutor Mr. Wilder—there are no such tutors
in Trinity College now the home of all dignified and
gentle learning, under the mild survey of the vene-
rable provost—(applause)—even here we are
gathered round the poet's statue, before London has
erected a single statue in the open air to any of
England's mighty bards. Mr. Foley has amply
atoned for Mr. Wilder."