coach-and-four. He was one of the hearts not meant to draw near the
gates of heaven alone, and could not accept a pleasure without someone
sharing it with him and having more than half.

When he gave his suppers, we find the measure of the man who always
gave more than he received, for the viands were for his friends, and a
basin of boiled milk satisfied his own demands. There is a sad message
in the milk. It showed the concealed weakness of the little man, and
the growing disease, not now ever to be wholly known, from which he
died so young. Too likely all through his life some constant, growing
pain, stealing his pleasures, stole his prudence too. He was always
frank and as open with his creditors, as he was candid with his
friends. When Newbery's account with him had become complicated, he
had no means of liquidating the reckoning save by offering the
copyright of his play, then advancing towards production under many
disadvantages.

"To tell the truth, Frank," he said, in his lofty and affable manner,
"there are very small hopes of its success."

It is almost diverting to find Goldsmith himself baffled, if not
beaten, in seeking prosperity from literature, majestically
introducing others into the sacred sphere. His name was sufficient to
lead others to those rewards that he himself needed even more than
they did. Like Johnson, Goldsmith wrote many introductions to books
and various dedications for authors, who availed themselves both of
the influence and of the ability of these distinguished leaders in the
realm of letters. When Goldsmith had become known in the world and
life of literature, and was already respected by a select circle of
the authors of the time, although his place and power were by no means
established, it was through the pressure of debt and its distresses
that the greatest work of his genius came to light.

"One morning in the year 1764," said Dr. Johnson to the faithful
Boswell, "I received a message from poor Goldsmith that he was in
great distress, and as it was not in his power to come to me, begging
that I would come to him as soon as possible. I sent him a guinea, and
promised to come to him directly. I accordingly went as soon as I was
dressed."

It is impossible to pass and not pause here in grateful admiration for
the true heart of Dr. Johnson, who never failed a friend or any man.
He proceeded with his confidences.

"I found," he went on, concerning Goldsmith, "that his landlady