gnorant;
the tragedy is a tragedy, but why did not the author make it a
comedy?--this sort of criticism has been heard of even in our own day.
However, Goldsmith pounded away at his newly-found work, under the eye
of the exacting bookseller and his learned wife. We find him dealing
with Scandinavian (here called Celtic) mythology, though he does not
adventure on much comment of his own; then he engages Smollett's
_History of England_, but mostly in the way of extract; anon we find
him reviewing _A Journal of Eight Days' Journey_, by Jonas Hanway, of
whom Johnson said that he made some reputation by travelling abroad,
and lost it all by travelling at home. Then again we find him writing
a disquisition on _Some Enquiries concerning the First Inhabitants,
Language, Religion, Learning, and Letters of Europe_, by a Mr. Wise,
who, along with his critic, appears to have got into hopeless
confusion in believing Basque and Armorican to be the remains of the
same ancient language. The last phrase of a note appended to this
review by Goldsmith probably indicates his own humble estimate of his
work at this time. "It is more our business," he says, "to exhibit the
opinions of the learned than to controvert them." In fact he was
employed to boil down books for people who did not wish to spend more
on literature than the price of a magazine. Though he was new to the
trade, it is probable he did it as well as any other.

At the end of five months, Goldsmith and Griffiths quarrelled and
separated. Griffiths said Goldsmith was idle; Goldsmith said Griffiths
was impertinent; probably the editorial supervision exercised by Mrs.
Griffiths had something to do with the dire contention. From
Paternoster Row Goldsmith removed to a garret in Fleet Street; had his
letters addressed to a coffee-house; and apparently supported himself
by further hack-work, his connection with Griffiths not being quite
severed. Then he drifted back to Peckham again; and was once more
installed as usher, Dr. Milner being in especial want of an assistant
at this time. Goldsmith's lingering about the gates of literature had
not inspired him with any great ambition to enter the enchanted land.
But at the same time he thought he saw in literature a means by which
a little ready money might be made, in order to help him on to
something more definite and substantial; and this goal was now put
before him by Dr. Milner, in the shape of a medical appointment on the
Coromande