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 diflike fo much as news'paper controverfy, particularly upon trifles, permit me to be as concife as poffible in informing a correspondent of yours, that I recommended Blainville's Travels, because I thought the book was a good one; and I think fo ftill. I faid, I was told by the bookseller that it was then first published ; but in that, it seems, I was mif-informed, and my reading was not extensive enough to fet me right.

Another correfpondent of yours accuses me of having taken a ballad, I published some time ago, from one by the ingenious Mr. Percy. I do not think there is any great refemblance between two pieces in queftion. If there be any, his ballad is taken from mine. I read it to Mr. Percy fome

e

years

* The Friar of Orders Gray, "Reliq, of Anc. Poetry." Vol. I.. Book 2, No. 18.

years ago; and he (as we both confidered these things as trifles at beft) told me with his ufual good humour, the next time I saw him, that he had taken my plan to form the fragments of Shakespeare into a ballad of his own. He then read me his little Cento, if I may fo call it, and I highly approved it. Such petty anecdotes as these are scarcely worth printing and, were it not for the busy difpofition of fome of your correfpondents, 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 defired to confult "The Life of Dr. Goldsmith," under the year 1765.

THE

THE

HERMIT.

BALLAD.

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

II.

"For here forlorn and loft I tread,
"With fainting steps and flow;
"Where wilds, immeasurably spread,
"Seem length'ning as I go."

III.

"Forbear, my fon," the Hermit cries,
"To tempt the dangerous gloom;
"For yonder faithlefs phantom flies
"To lure thee to thy doom.

"And though my portion is but fcant,

"I give it with good will.

V.

"Then turn to-night, and freely share
"Whate'er my cell beflows;
"My rushy couch and frugal fare,

"No flocks that range the valley free,
"To flaughter I condemn;
"Taught by that Power that pities me,

"I learn to pity them :

VII.

"But from the mountain's graffy fide

"A guiltless feast I bring ;

"A fcrip with herbs and fruits fupply'd,

"And water from the fpring,

VIII.

"Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego;

"All earth-born cares are wrong; "Man wants but little here below,

"Nor wants that little long."

Soft

IX.

Soft as the dew from Heav'n defcends,

His gentle accents fell:

The modeft stranger lowly bends,

And follows to the cell.

X.

Far in a wilderness obfcure

The lonely mansion lay,

A refuge to the neighb'ring poor
And strangers led aftray.

XI.

No ftores beneath its humble thatch

Requir'd a master's care;

The wicket, op'ning with a latch,
Receiv'd the harmless pair.

XII.

And now, when bufy crowds retire
To take their ev'ning reft,
The Hermit trimm'd his little fire,
And chear'd his pensive guest:

XIII.

And spread his vegetable store,
And gayly prefs'd, and fmil'd;
And skill'd in legendary lore
The ling'ring hours beguil'd.

Around