en he tried practising in a small way on his
own account in Southwark. Here he made the acquaintance of a printer's
workman; and through him he was engaged as corrector of the press in
the establishment of Mr. Samuel Richardson. Being so near to
literature, he caught the infection; and naturally began with a
tragedy. This tragedy was shown to the author of _Clarissa Harlowe_;
but it only went the way of many similar first inspiritings of the
Muse. Then Goldsmith drifted to Peckham, where we find him (1757)
installed as usher at Dr. Milner's school. Goldsmith as usher has been
the object of much sympathy; and he would certainly deserve it, if we
are to assume that his description of an usher's position in the
_Bee_, and in George Primrose's advice to his cousin, was a full and
accurate description of his life at Peckham. "Browbeat by the master,
hated for my ugly face by the mistress, worried by the boys"--if that
was his life, he was much to be pitied. But we cannot believe it. The
Milners were exceedingly kind to Goldsmith. It was at the intercession
of young Milner, who had been his fellow-student at Edinburgh, that
Goldsmith got the situation, which at all events kept him out of the
reach of immediate want. It was through the Milners that he was
introduced to Griffiths, who gave him a chance of trying a literary
career--as a hack-writer of reviews and so forth. When, having got
tired of that, Goldsmith was again floating vaguely on the waves of
chance, where did he find a harbour but in that very school at
Peckham? And we have the direct testimony of the youngest of Dr.
Milner's daughters, that this Irish usher of theirs was a remarkably
cheerful, and even facetious person, constantly playing tricks and
practical jokes, amusing the boys by telling stories and by
performances on the flute, living a careless life, and always in
advance of his salary. Any beggars, or group of children, even the
very boys who played back practical jokes on him, were welcome to a
share of what small funds he had; and we all know how Mrs. Milner
good-naturedly said one day, "You had better, Mr. Goldsmith, let me
keep your money for you, as I do for some of the young gentlemen;" and
how he answered with much simplicity, "In truth, Madam, there is equal
need." With Goldsmith's love of approbation and extreme sensitiveness
he no doubt suffered deeply from many slights, now as at other times;
but what we know of his life in the Peckham school d