But after three years of school under wonderful Paddy Byrne, Goldsmith became very ill with smallpox.
At length, when Goldsmith was nearly seventeen, he went to Trinity College, Dublin, as a sizar.
Awkward and shy, keen to feel insults whether intended or not, Goldsmith hated his position as sizar.
Peace was made with his tutor, and Goldsmith went back to college, and stayed there until two years later when he took his degree.
But the bishop would not ordain him--why is not known, but it was said that he was offended with Goldsmith for coming to be ordained dressed in scarlet breeches.
Goldsmith lost the money in Dublin, and came home penniless.
In Scotland Goldsmith lived for a year and a half traveling about, enjoying life, and, it may be, studying.
Thus, from town to town, from village to village, Goldsmith wandered, until at the end of a year he found himself back among his countrymen, penniless and alone in London streets.
Kindness and gentleness are never out of fashion; it is these in Goldsmith which make him our contemporary, and it is worth the while of any young person presently intending deathless renown to take a little thought of them.
It was the first time I had imitated a prose writer, though I had imitated several poets like Moore, Campbell, and Goldsmith himself.