and spent it all.  “The Vicar of Wakefield,” perhaps the greatest of all Goldsmith’s works, was published on March 27, 1766, after Dr. Johnson had raised L60 for him on the manuscript of it.  The liveliness and grace of Goldsmith’s style were never more plainly manifested than in this delightful story; and its faults—­it contains many coincidences and improbabilities—­are far more than atoned for by the masterly portrait of the simple, manly, generous, and wholly lovable vicar who is the central figure of the story.  “It has,” says Mitford, “the truth of Richardson, without his minuteness, and the humour of Fielding, without his grossness; if it yields to LeSage in the diversified variety of his views of life, it far excels him in the description of domestic virtues and the pleasing moral of the tale.”  Goldsmith died on April 4, 1774. (See also Vol.  XVII.)

I.—­Family Portraits

I was ever of opinion that the honest man who married and brought up a large family did more service than he who continued single and only talked of population.  From this motive, I chose my wife, as she did her wedding-gown, not for a fine glossy surface, but such qualities as would wear well.  There was nothing that could make us angry with the world or each other.  We had no revolutions to fear, nor fatigues to undergo; all our adventures were by the fireside, and all our migrations from the blue bed to the brown.

My children, as they were educated without softness, so they were at once well-formed and healthy; my four sons hardy and active, my two daughters beautiful and blooming.  Olivia, the elder daughter, was open, sprightly, and commanding; Sophia’s features were not so striking at first, but often did more certain execution, for they were soft, modest, and alluring.

The profits of my living I made over to the orphans and widows of the clergy of our diocese; for, having a sufficient fortune of my own, I was careless of temporalities, and felt a secret pleasure in doing my duty without reward.

My eldest son, George, just upon leaving college, fixed his affections upon Miss Arabella Wilmot, the daughter of a neighbouring clergyman, who was in circumstances to give her a large fortune.  Mr. Wilmot was not averse to the match, but after the day for the nuptials had been fixed, I engaged in a dispute with him which threatened to interrupt our intended alliance.  I have always maintained that it is unlawful for a priest of the Church of England, after the death of his first wife, to take a second; and I showed Mr. Wilmot a tract which I had written in defence of this principle.  It was not till too late I discovered that he was violently attached to the contrary opinion, and with good reason; for he was at that time actually courting a fourth wife.

While the controversy was hottest, a relation, with a face of concern, called me out.

“The merchant in town,” he said, “in whose hands your money was lodged has gone off, to avoid a statute of bankruptcy.  Your fortune is now almost nothing.”