THE FOLLOWING

LETTER

ADDRESSED

TO THE PRINTER OF THE

ST. JAMES'S CHRONICLE,
Appeared in that Paper, in June

M DCC LXVII.

SIR,

AS there is nothing I dislike so much as news-paper controversy, particularly upon trifles, permit me to be as concise as possible in informing a correspondent of yours, that I recommended Blainville's Travels, because I thought the book was a good one; and I think so still. I said, I was told by the book-seller that it was then first published; but in that, it seems, I was misinformed, and my reading was not extensive enough to set me right.

Another correspondent of yours accuses me of having taken a ballad, I published some time ago, from one* by the ingenious Mr. Percy. I do think there is any great resemblence between the two pieces in question. If there be any,his ballad is taken from mine, I read it toMr. Percy some years ago; and he (as we both con

*The Friar of Order Gray. try" Vol. 1. Book 2. No. 18.

"Relic. of Anc.Poc

sidered these things as trifles at best) told me, with his usual good humour, the next time I saw him, that he had taken my plan to form the fragments of Shakspeare into a ballad of his own He then read me his little Canto, if I may so call it, and I highly approved it. Such petty anecdotes as these are scarcely worth printing: and were it not for the busy disposition of some of your correspondents, the public should never have known that he owes me the hint of his ballad, or that I am obliged to his friendship and learning for communications of a much more important

nature.

I am, Sir,

Yours, &c.

OLIVER GOLDSMITH

Note. On the subject of the preceding letter, the reader is disired to consult "the The Life of Dr.Goldsmith," under the year 1765.

THE HERMIT.

A BALLAD.

TURN, gentle hermit of the dale, "And guide my lonely way, "To where yon taper cheers the vale "With hospitable ray.

"For here forlorn and lost I tread, "With fainting steps and slow ; Where wilds, immeasurely spread, 'Seem length'ning as I go.".

"Forbear my son," the hermit cries, "To tempt the dangerous gloom; "For yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom.

"Here to the houseless child of want

661

My door is open still;

"And though my portion is but scant, I give it with good will.

"Then turn to-night, and freely share "Whate'er my cell bestows,

My rushy couch and frugal fare,

"No flocks that range the valley free, "To slaughter I condemn ;

"Taught by that power that pities me, "I learn to pity them:

"But from the mountain's grassy side "A guiltless feast I bring;

"A scrip with herbs and fruits supply'd And water from the spring.

“Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego; "All earth-born cares are wrong; "Man wants but little here below "Nor wants that little long."

Soft as the dew from heav'n descends,
His gentle accents fell:

The modest stranger lowly bends,,
And follows to the cell.

Far in a wilderness obscure
The lonely mansion lay,
A refuge to the neighb'ring poor
And strangers led astray.

No store beneath its humble thatch
Requir'd a master's care;
The wicket opening with a latch,
Receiv'd the harmless pair.

And now, when busy crowds retire
To take their ev❜ning rest,

The hermit trimm'd his little fire,
And cheer'd his pensive guest:

And spread his vegetable store,
And gaily press'd, and smil'd ;
And, skill'd in legendary lore,

The ling'ring hours beguil❜d.

Around in sympathetic mirth
Its tricks the kitten tries,
The cricket chirrups in the hearth,
The crackling faggot flies..

But nothing could a charm impart
To sooth the stranger's woe ;
For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.

His rising cares the hermit spy'd, With answ'ring care opprest: "And whence, unhappy youth," he cry'd "The sorrows of thy breast?

"From better habitations spurn'd, "Reluctant dost thou rove?

"Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, "Or unregarded love?

"Alas! the joys that fortune brings, "Are trifling and decay;

"And those who prize the paltry things, "More trifling still than they.

F