ce, the
form and understanding, fathoming stretch and reach and power and
grasp of genius.

The sublimity of the spirit of Shakespeare and the aloofness of the
mind of Milton divide their influence, through an infinite
universality, from the current of evolving expression. Goldsmith was
one in the great succession of the dynasty of poetry that must outlast
the nation and the race. In the line of this successive sovereignty
the name of Chaucer is first inscribed, and that of the towering
Browning is now seen the last upon the glorious list of the kings of
poetry. If Gray's "Elegy" came close to the outward beauty and the
inmost heart of nature, the same must be said of Goldsmith's _Deserted
Village_. From the heart and life of nature, poetry has now passed to
the heart and life of man. That first natural interpretation that
gained its meridian glory through Wordsworth, and its bright, vivid,
yet evening radiance in the sweet spirit of the dulcet Tennyson, knew
its dawn through the love-lit lines of Gray and Goldsmith.

_The Deserted Village_ appeared soon after the production of _The
Good-natured Man_ in the moving and marvellous procession of Oliver
Goldsmith's great and successive achievements. The poem was dedicated
to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was as rejoiced and grateful as only a
true friend could be. The artist could admire the piece profoundly,
but still not more sincerely than Edmund Burke, the statesman and the
orator. As Tennyson had a lilt and Byron a sentiment, swiftly and
easily appealing, consciously or unconsciously caught, and sincerely
felt or insincerely imitated, so Goldsmith possessed a teaching charm
and a guiding grace that can be traced in many later poets and amongst
the works of greatest minds, in the poetry of Robert Burns. Poets,
like priests, teach the hearts and lives of men, the means and power
of their expression. One may cull from Goldsmith his own sublime
simile:

"And, as a bird, each fond endearment tries
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way."

CHAPTER X

THE LIGHT OF LOVE

To think of Oliver Goldsmith is to feel him near--a friend, and the
brightest of friends. This is the spell that still he sways. His words
are semblant to moving memories. His genius purifies the clouds of
life, and cheers and inspires the heavy-laden heart. One cannot tell
what was, and is,