“The Traveller” by Oliver Goldsmith was first published in 1764 and is considered the first work of English poetry in philosophical travel literature. It was later included in his collected works, alongside “The Deserted Village” and other significant poems. The poem presents a panoramic survey of various European nations, analyzing their virtues and flaws through a philosophical lens, while also reflecting on the nature of happiness, patriotism, and social structure. The main idea revolves around the concept that no single nation is perfect, as each society has its own distinct strengths and weaknesses, shaped by historical and economic factors. Goldsmith’s melancholic tone and nostalgic longing for home are evident in lines like “My heart, untravelled, fondly turns to thee”, emphasizing the emotional weight of exile. The poem’s popularity stems from its universal appeal, as it resonates with themes of human discontent, the search for happiness, and the contrast between wealth and virtue. Goldsmith’s keen observations about liberty, commerce, and social decay make “The Traveller” a timeless meditation on civilization’s progress and pitfalls. His poetic depiction of different societies—from the decadence of Italy to the rugged independence of the Swiss—offers a compelling commentary on the delicate balance between wealth, power, and contentment, making this poem a significant contribution to 18th-century English literature.
Text: “The Traveller” by Oliver Goldsmith
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po, OR onward, where the rude Corinthian boor Against the houseless stranger shuts the door, OR where Campania’s plain forsaken lies A weary waste expanding to the skies – Where’er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart, untravell’d, fondly turns to thee; Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. Eternal blessings crown my earliest friend, And round his dwelling guardian saints attend: Blest be that spot, where cheerful guests retire To pause from toil, and trim their evening fire: Bless’d that abode, where want and pain repair, And every stranger finds a ready chair; Bless’d be those feasts with simple plenty crown’d, Where all the ruddy family around Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail, Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale, Or press the bashful stranger to his food, And learn the luxury of doing good. But me, not destined such delights to share, My prime of life in wandering spent and care, Impelled with steps unceasing to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view, That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies – My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, And find no spot of all the world my own. E’en now, where Alpine solitudes ascend, I sit me down a pensive hour to spend; And placed on high, above the storm’s career, Look downward where an hundred realms appear – Lakes forests, cities, plains extending wide, The pomp of kings, the shepherd’s humbler pride. When thus Creation’s charms around combine, Amidst the store, should thankless pride repine? Say, should the philosophic mind disdain That good which makes each humbler bosom vain? Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can, These little things are great to little man; And wiser he whose sympathetic mind Exults in all the good of all mankind. Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendour crown’d, Ye fields where summer spreads profusion round, Ye lakes whose vessels catch the busy gale, Ye bending swains that dress the flowery vale – For me your tributary stores combine; Creation’s heir, the world, the world is mine! As some lone miser, visiting his store, Bends at his treasure, counts, recounts it o’er – Hoards and hoards his rising raptures fill, Yet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still – Thus to my breast alternate passions rise, Pleased with each good that Heaven to man supplies, Yet oft a sigh prevails, and sorrows fall, To see the hoard of human bliss so small; And oft I wish, amidst the scene, to find Some spot that’s to real happiness consign’d, Where my worn soul, each wandering hope at rest, May gather bliss, to see my fellows bless’d. But where to find that happiest spot below Who can direct, when all pretend to know? The shudd’ring tenant of the frigid zone Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own; Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long nights of revelry and ease: The naked negro, panting at the line, Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine, Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. Such is the patriot’s boast where’er we roam, His first, best country ever is at home. And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, And estimate the blessings which they share, Tho’ patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find An equal portion dealt to all mankind – As different good, by Art or Nature given To different nations, makes their blessings even. Nature, a mother kind alike to all, Still grants her bliss at Labour’s earnest call: With food as well the peasant is supplied On Idra’s cliffs as Arno’s shelvy side; And though the rocky-crested summits frown, These rocks by custom turn to beds of down. From Art more various are the blessings sent, – Wealth, commerce, honour, liberty, content; Yet these each other’s power so strong contest, That either seems destructive of the rest: Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails, And honour sinks where commerce long prevails. Hence every state, to one lov’d blessing prone, Conforms and models life to that alone; Each to the favourite happiness attends, And spurns the plan that aims at other ends – Till carried to excess in each domain, This favourite good begets peculiar pain. But let us try these truths with closer eyes, And trace them through the prospect as it lies: Here for a while my proper cares resign’d; Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind; Like yon neglected shrub at random cast, That shades the steep, and sighs at every blast. Far to the right, where Apennine ascends, Bright as the summer, Italy extends: Its uplands sloping deck the mountain’s side, Woods over woods in gay theatric pride, While oft some temple’s mould’ring tops between With venerable grandeur mark the scene. Could Nature’s bounty satisfy the breast, The sons of Italy were surely blest. Whatever fruits in different climes are found, That proudly rise or humbly court the ground – Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, Whose bright succession decks the varied year – Whatever sweets salute the northern sky With vernal lives, that blossom but to die – These, here disporting, own the kindred soil, Nor ask luxuriance from the planter’s toil; While sea-born gales their gelid wings expand To winnow fragrance round the smiling land. But small the bliss that sense alone bestows, And sensual bliss is all the nation knows; In florid beauty groves and fields appear – Man seems the only growth that dwindles here. Contrasted faults through all his manners reign; Though poor, luxurious; though submissive, vain; Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue – And e’en in penance planning sins anew. All evils here contaminate the mind, That opulence departed leaves behind; For wealth was theirs; not far removed the date, When commerce proudly flourish’d through the state At her command the palace learnt to rise, Again the long-fall’n column sought the skies, The canvas glow’d, beyond e’en nature warm, The pregnant quarry teem’d with human form; Till, more unsteady than the southern gale, Commerce on other shores display’d her sail; While nought remain’d of all that riches gave, But towns unmann’d, and lords without a slave – And late the nation found with fruitless skill Its former strength was but plethoric ill. Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride: For these the feeble heart and long-fall’n mind An easy compensation seem to find. Here may be seen, in bloodless pomp array’d, The pasteboard triumph and the cavalcade; Processions form’d for piety and love – A mistress or a saint in every grove: By sports like these are all their cares beguil’d, The sports of children satisfy the child. Each nobler aim, repress’d by long control, Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul; While low delights, succeeding fast behind, In happier meanness occupy the mind. As in those domes where Caesars once bore sway, Defac’d by time and tott’ring in decay, There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed; And, wond’ring man could want the larger pile, Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile. My soul, turn from them, turn we to survey Where rougher climes a nobler race display – Where the bleak Swiss their stormy mansions tread, And force a churlish soil for scanty bread. No product here the barren hills afford But man and steel, the soldier and his sword; No veral blooms their torpid rocks array, But winter lingering chills the lap of May; No zephyr fondly sues the mountain’s breast, But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest. Yet still, e’en here, content can spread a charm, Redress the clime, and all its rage disarm. Though poor the peasant’s hut, his feasts though small, He sees his little lot the lot of all; Sees no contiguous palace rear its head, To shame the meanness of his humble shed – No costly lord the sumptuous banquet deal, To make him loathe his vegetable meal – But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil, Each wish contracting, fits him to the soil. Cheerful at morn, he wakes from short repose, Breasts the keen air, and carols as he goes; With patient angle trolls the finny deep, Or drives his venturous ploughshare to the steep; Or seeks the den where snow-tracks mark the way And drags the struggling savage into day. At night returning, every labour sped, He sits him down, the monarch of a shed; Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys His children’s looks, that brighten at the blaze – While his lov’d partner, boastful of her hoard, Displays her cleanly platter on the board: And haply too some pilgrim, thither led, With many a tale repays the nightly bed. Thus every good his native wilds impart Imprints the patriot passion on his heart; And even those hills, that round his mansion rise, Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies: Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother’s breast – So the loud torrent and the whirlwind’s roar, But bind him to his native mountains more. Such are the charms to barren states assign’d; Their wants but few, their wishes all confin’d; Yet let them only share the praises due, If few their wants, their pleasures are but few; For every want that stimulates the breast Becomes a source of pleasure when redress’d. Whence from such lands each pleasing science flies, That first excites desire, and then supplies; Unknown to them, when the sensual pleasures cloy, To fill the languid pause with finer joy; Unknown those powers that raise the soul to flame Catch every nerve and vibrate through the frame: Their level life is but a smouldering fire, Unquench’d by want, unfann’d by strong desire; Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer On some high festival of once a year, In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire. But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow – Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low; For, as refinement stops, from sire to son Unalter’d, unimprov’d, the manners run – And love’s and friendship’s finely pointed dart Fall blunted from each indurated heart. Some sterner virtues o’er the mountain’s breast May sit, like falcons cowering on the nest; But all the gentler morals, such as play Through life’s more cultur’d walks, and charm the way – These, far dispers’d, on timorous pinions fly, To sport and flutter in a kinder sky. To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, I turn; and France displays her bright domain. Gay sprightly land of mirth and social ease, Pleased with thyself, whom all the world can please – How often have I led thy sportive choir, With tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire, Where shading elms along the margin grew, And freshen’d from the wave, the zephyr flew! And haply, though my harsh touch, faltering still – But mock’d all tune, and marr’d the dancer’s skill – Yet would the village praise my wondrous power, And dance, forgetful of the noontide hour. Alike all ages: dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze; And the gay grandsire, skill’d in gestic lore, Has frisk’d beneath the burthen of threescore. So bless’d a life these thoughtless realms display; Thus idly busy rolls their world away. Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear, For honour forms the social temper here: Honour, that praise which real merit gains, Or even imaginary worth obtains, Here passes current – paid from hand to hand, It shifts, in splendid traffic, round the land; From courts to camps, to cottages it strays, And all are taught an avarice of praise – They please, are pleased, they give to get esteem, Till, seeming bless’d, they grow to what they seem. But while this softer art their bliss supplies, It gives their follies also room to rise; For praise too dearly lov’d, or warmly sought, Enfeebles all internal strength of thought – And the weak soul, within itself unbless’d, Leans for all pleasure on another’s breast. Hence ostentation here, with tawdry art, Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart; Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace; Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer, To boast one splendid banquet once a year: The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws Nor weighs the solid worth of self applause. To men of other minds my fancy lies, Embosomed in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land; And, sedulous to stop the coming tide, Life the tall rampire’s artificial pride. Onward, methinks, and diligently slow, The firm connected bulwark seems to grow, Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar, Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore – While the pent ocean, rising o’er the pile Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile; The slow canal, the yellow-blossom’d vale, The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail, The crowded mart, the cultivated plain – A new creation rescued from his reign. Thus, while around the wave-subjected soil Impels the native to repeated toil, Industrious habits in each bosom reign, And industry begets a love of gain. Hence all the good from opulence that springs, With all those ills superfluous treasure brings, Are here display’d. Their much-lov’d wealth imparts Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts; But view them closer, craft and fraud appear – E’en liberty itself is bartered here. At gold’s superior charms all freedom flies; The needy sell it, and the rich man buys: A land of tyrants, and a den of slaves, Here wretches seek dishonourable graves; And, calmly bent, to servitude conform, Dull as their lakes that slumber in the storm. Heavens! how unlike their Belgic sires of old – Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold, War in each breast, and freedom on each brow; How much unlike the sons of Britain now! Fired at the sound, my genius spreads her wing And flies where Britain courts the western wing Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride, And brighter streams than famed Hydaspes glide. There gentle music melts on every spray; Creation’s mildest charms are there combined, Extremes are only in the master’s mind. Stern o’er each bosom reason holds her state, With daring aims irregularly great. Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by, Intent on high designs – a thoughtful band, By forms unfashion’d, fresh from Nature’s hand, Fierce in their native hardiness of soul, True to imagin’d right, above control; While even the peasant boasts these rights to scan, And learns to venerate himself as man. Thine, freedom, thine the blessings pictured here: Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear; Too bless’d indeed were such without alloy, But foster’d even by freedom ills annoy. That independence Britons prize too high Keeps man from man, and breaks the social tie: The self-dependent lordlings stand alone – All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown. Here, by the bonds of nature feebly held, Minds combat minds, repelling and repell’d; Ferments arise, imprison’d factions roar, Repress’d ambition struggles round her shore – Till, over-wrought, the general system feels Its motion stop, or frenzy fire the wheels. Nor this the worst. As nature’s ties decay, As duty, love, and honour, fail to sway, Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law, Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe. Hence all obedience bows to these alone, And talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown; Till time may come, when stripp’d of all her charms, The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms – Where noble stems transmit the patriot flame, Where kings have toil’d, and poets wrote for fame – One sink of level avarice shall lie, And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonoured die. Yet think not, thus when freedom’s ills I state, I mean to flatter kings, or court the great. Ye powers of truth, that bid my soul aspire, Far from my bosom drive the low desire! And thou, fair freedom, taught alike to feel The rabble’s rage, and tyrant’s angry steel – Thou transitory flower, alike undone By proud contempt or favour’s fostering sun – Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure! I only would repress them to secure; For just experience tells, in every soil, That those who think must govern those that toil – And all that freedom’s highest aims can reach Is but to lay proportion’d loads on each. Hence, should one order disproportion’d grow, Its double weight must ruin all below. Oh, then, how blind to all that truth requires, Who think it freedom when a part aspires! Calm is my soul, nor apt to rise in arms, Except when fast-approaching danger warms; But when contending chiefs blockade the throne, Contracting regal power to stretch their own – When I behold a factious band agree To call it freedom when themselves are free – Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw, Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law – The wealth of climes, where savage nations roam, Pillag’d from slaves to purchase slaves at home – Fear, pity, justice, indignation start, Tear off reserve, and bare my swelling heart; Till half a patriot, half a coward grown, I fly from petty tyrants to the throne. Yes, brother, curse with me that baleful hour When first ambition struck at regal power; And thus, polluting honour in its source, Gave wealth to sway the mind with double force. Have we not seen, round Britain’s peopled shore, Her useful sons exchanged for useless ore? Seen all her triumphs but destruction haste, Like flaring tapers brightening as they waste? Seen opulence, her grandeur to maintain, Lead stern depopulation in her train – And over fields where scatter’d hamlets rose, In barren solitary pomp repose? Have we not seen, at pleasure’s lordly call, The smiling long-frequented village fall? Beheld the duteous son, the sire decay’d, The modest matron, and the blushing maid, Forced from their homes, a melancholy train, To traverse climes beyond the western main – Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around, And Niagara stuns with thundering sound? Even now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays Through tangled forests, and through dangerous ways, And the brown Indian marks with murderous aim – There, while above the giddy tempests flies, And all around distressful yells arise – The pensive exile, bending with his woe, To stop too fearful, and too faint to go, Casts la long look where England’s glories shine, And bids his bosom sympathize with mine. Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the mind. Why have I stray’d from pleasure and repose, To seek a good each government bestows? In every government, though terrors reign, Though tyrant-kings or tyrant-laws restrain, How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consign’d, Our own felicity we make or find: With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy; The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel, Zeck’s iron crown, and Damiens’ bed of steel, To men remote from power but rarely known – Leave reason, faith, and conscience, all our own.
Nature, a mother kind alike to all… This favourite good begets peculiar pain.
Nature provides for all people, but different countries prioritize different values such as wealth, honor, or freedom, leading to both benefits and problems.
Personification (nature as mother), Contrast (wealth vs. freedom), Irony (one good brings another issue)
But let us try these truths with closer eyes… That shades the steep, and sighs at every blast.
He wants to analyze these truths further and reflect on the human condition. He compares himself to a lonely shrub swaying in the wind.
Goldsmith references scholars, soldiers, and kings to show how even the most honorable figures can be forgotten, reflecting the transient nature of power and knowledge.
The speaker directly addresses his own soul, personifying it as a separate entity. This creates an intimate and reflective tone, emphasizing internal conflict.
“The pomp of kings, the shepherd’s humbler pride.”
The stark contrast between “kings” and “shepherds” highlights differences in social class, yet both are portrayed as part of the same landscape, suggesting equality in nature.
“Nor this the worst. As nature’s ties decay, As duty, love, and honour, fail to sway.”
The continuation of the sentence across multiple lines conveys the flow of time and decay, illustrating the gradual breakdown of moral values and human bonds.
Goldsmith exaggerates his ownership of the world, creating a grand and ironic tone that underscores the contrast between actual material wealth and a philosophical claim to everything.
“But small the bliss that sense alone bestows, And sensual bliss is all the nation knows.”
The poet mocks nations that focus only on physical pleasure. The irony lies in the idea that materialistic societies may appear happy but are actually unfulfilled.
“That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies.”
The world is compared to a constantly retreating circle, symbolizing the unattainable nature of true contentment. This emphasizes the futile pursuit of happiness.
“And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother’s breast.”
The child clinging to the mother is a simile for people’s attachment to their homeland despite hardships. This emphasizes emotional ties to one’s roots.
“The wealth of climes, where savage nations roam, Pillaged from slaves to purchase slaves at home.”
Goldsmith uses wealth as a symbol of exploitation, showing how nations benefit from oppression and slavery, making a sharp political statement.
Themes: “The Traveller” by Oliver Goldsmith
The Search for True Happiness
In “The Traveller”, Oliver Goldsmith explores the idea that happiness is not tied to a single place or condition but is subjective and elusive. The poet travels through different nations, observing how each society has its own definition of contentment. Despite their unique strengths and weaknesses, no country offers absolute happiness, and Goldsmith suggests that contentment comes from within. He expresses this through the metaphor “That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, / Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies”, illustrating how the pursuit of happiness is endless and always just out of reach. He also challenges the idea that wealth and pleasure guarantee fulfillment, stating, “But small the bliss that sense alone bestows, / And sensual bliss is all the nation knows”, implying that materialism and indulgence do not lead to true joy. This theme resonates throughout the poem as Goldsmith contrasts the luxuries of Italy, the simple life of the Swiss, and the commercial success of the Dutch, all of which fail to provide universal happiness.
The Corruption of Wealth and Power
Goldsmith critiques the effects of wealth, commerce, and social status in “The Traveller”, arguing that they often lead to moral decay rather than societal progress. He examines how nations once prosperous and powerful have declined due to corruption and excess. In Italy, for example, he notes, “All evils here contaminate the mind, / That opulence departed leaves behind”, suggesting that when wealth is lost, it leaves behind a population that is decadent and spiritually empty. The poet also critiques the Dutch, portraying them as a people who prioritize commerce over liberty, stating, “At gold’s superior charms all freedom flies; / The needy sell it, and the rich man buys.” This observation underscores how economic ambition often comes at the cost of personal and national freedom. Throughout the poem, Goldsmith implies that true prosperity should not be measured by material wealth but by moral integrity and social unity.
The Role of Nature in Shaping National Character
A recurring theme in “The Traveller” is the influence of geography and natural environment on a nation’s people and their way of life. Goldsmith suggests that the land and climate shape the characteristics of a country’s inhabitants, determining their values, struggles, and strengths. For instance, the Swiss, living in a rugged, mountainous landscape, are depicted as hardworking and content with little, as shown in “Though poor the peasant’s hut, his feasts though small, / He sees his little lot the lot of all.” In contrast, the people of Italy, living in a land of abundance, are portrayed as luxurious yet morally weak, with Goldsmith lamenting that “Man seems the only growth that dwindles here.” This theme highlights how nature is both a source of challenge and identity, shaping not only national pride but also societal values.
Patriotism and National Identity
Goldsmith explores the theme of patriotism and the way people perceive their own country in comparison to others. He observes that every nation believes itself to be the best, regardless of its flaws. This is reflected in the lines: “Such is the patriot’s boast where’er we roam, / His first, best country ever is at home.” Here, he acknowledges the bias and pride that individuals hold toward their homeland, even if another country may seem objectively better. However, Goldsmith also critiques blind patriotism, noting how nations cling to outdated ideals and resist change, leading to their stagnation or downfall. His reflections on Britain’s political instability suggest his concerns about his own homeland’s future, as seen in his warning: “Till time may come, when stripp’d of all her charms, / The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms / One sink of level avarice shall lie.” By contrasting different nations and their struggles, Goldsmith forces readers to question whether national pride is always justified or whether it blinds people to their country’s faults.
Literary Theories and “The Traveller” by Oliver Goldsmith
Literary Theory
Application to “The Traveller”
Key References from the Poem
Marxist Criticism
Goldsmith critiques the effects of wealth and social class in different nations. He highlights how economic structures shape people’s lives, as seen in his description of the Dutch: “At gold’s superior charms all freedom flies; / The needy sell it, and the rich man buys.” This reflects Marxist ideas about capitalism leading to inequality and exploitation.
“At gold’s superior charms all freedom flies; / The needy sell it, and the rich man buys.”
Although not a postcolonial work, the poem comments on the consequences of colonial wealth and exploitation. Goldsmith observes, “The wealth of climes, where savage nations roam, / Pillaged from slaves to purchase slaves at home,” showing how European prosperity was often built on the suffering of colonized peoples.
“The wealth of climes, where savage nations roam, / Pillaged from slaves to purchase slaves at home.”
Goldsmith’s deep appreciation of nature and the idea that landscapes shape people’s identities align with Romantic ideals. He contrasts the simple life of the Swiss, “Though poor the peasant’s hut, his feasts though small,” with the excesses of wealthier nations, reinforcing Romanticism’s praise of rural life and nature.
“Though poor the peasant’s hut, his feasts though small, / He sees his little lot the lot of all.”
Moral and Philosophical Criticism
The poem reflects on the moral consequences of wealth, power, and contentment. Goldsmith questions whether any nation truly has the best system, stating, “Say, should the philosophic mind disdain / That good which makes each humbler bosom vain?” This suggests a broader philosophical inquiry into ethics, justice, and happiness.
“Say, should the philosophic mind disdain / That good which makes each humbler bosom vain?”
Critical Questions about “The Traveller” by Oliver Goldsmith
How does Goldsmith portray the relationship between wealth and happiness in “The Traveller”?
In “The Traveller”, Oliver Goldsmith presents wealth as a double-edged sword, suggesting that while it can bring material comfort, it does not guarantee true happiness. He contrasts different nations, showing that both rich and poor societies face unique struggles. In Italy, he observes that despite its abundance, “Man seems the only growth that dwindles here,” implying that excessive wealth has led to moral and intellectual decline. Similarly, he criticizes Holland for its commercial success but lack of true freedom, writing, “At gold’s superior charms all freedom flies; / The needy sell it, and the rich man buys.” These lines highlight how wealth can corrupt societies, making them prioritize profit over human values. However, Goldsmith does not romanticize poverty either; instead, he suggests that happiness is independent of material wealth, as seen in his depiction of the Swiss, who, despite their hardships, are content: “Though poor the peasant’s hut, his feasts though small, / He sees his little lot the lot of all.” This contrast implies that happiness is more dependent on social unity and personal fulfillment than on financial prosperity.
What role does nature play in shaping national character in “The Traveller”?
Goldsmith emphasizes the influence of geography and natural conditions on a nation’s people and their values in “The Traveller”. He suggests that the landscape directly affects the customs, attitudes, and lifestyles of its inhabitants. For example, he describes Switzerland’s harsh, mountainous terrain and how it fosters self-sufficiency and resilience among its people: “No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, / But winter lingering chills the lap of May.” Despite these difficult conditions, the Swiss remain content and self-reliant, suggesting that struggle strengthens character. In contrast, he portrays Italy, a land of natural abundance, as a place where people have become lazy and morally weak, writing, “But small the bliss that sense alone bestows, / And sensual bliss is all the nation knows.” Here, Goldsmith implies that excessive ease and luxury lead to decadence, while hardship fosters strength and integrity. By showing how nature shapes human society, Goldsmith underscores the interplay between environment and national character, reinforcing the idea that one’s surroundings influence moral and social development.
How does Goldsmith criticize blind patriotism in “The Traveller”?
In “The Traveller”, Goldsmith questions the validity of blind patriotism, arguing that people often glorify their homeland without acknowledging its flaws. He highlights how every nation believes itself superior, regardless of its shortcomings, as expressed in the lines: “Such is the patriot’s boast where’er we roam, / His first, best country ever is at home.” This suggests that patriotism often stems from familiarity rather than objective reasoning. However, Goldsmith does not outright reject national pride; instead, he urges readers to consider the strengths and weaknesses of all nations. He points out that each country excels in one virtue but lacks in others, writing, “Hence every state, to one lov’d blessing prone, / Conforms and models life to that alone.” This critique implies that a balanced perspective is necessary, as blind patriotism can lead to stagnation and prevent people from learning from other cultures. By analyzing various nations, Goldsmith encourages a more thoughtful and critical approach to national identity, rather than unquestioning loyalty.
What is Goldsmith’s ultimate message about human society in “The Traveller”?
Through “The Traveller”, Goldsmith conveys a philosophical reflection on human nature, society, and contentment. His journey across nations reveals that no single country has a perfect system, as each society possesses both virtues and flaws. He expresses this idea in the lines: “But where to find that happiest spot below / Who can direct, when all pretend to know?” This rhetorical question suggests that happiness and social perfection are subjective and elusive. Goldsmith also argues that contentment is not dictated by external conditions but by one’s mindset, writing, “Still to ourselves in every place consign’d, / Our own felicity we make or find.” This indicates that inner peace and perspective shape human happiness more than wealth or geography. Ultimately, Goldsmith’s message is one of moderation and self-awareness—while governments, economies, and environments influence life, true fulfillment comes from within. He invites the reader to reflect on what truly matters in life: material success, national pride, or a more profound, personal sense of well-being.
Literary Works Similar to “The Traveller” by Oliver Goldsmith
“The Deserted Village” by Oliver Goldsmith – Like “The Traveller”, this poem critiques the impact of wealth, urbanization, and social change on rural life, focusing on the decline of a once-thriving village.
“Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage” by Lord Byron – This poem also follows a traveler reflecting on different nations, their histories, and human nature, much like Goldsmith’s exploration of societies in “The Traveller”.
“Lines Written a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey” by William Wordsworth – Similar to “The Traveller”, this poem meditates on nature, human experience, and the passage of time, emphasizing the influence of the environment on the individual.
“Don Juan” by Lord Byron – This satirical poem, like “The Traveller”, uses a journey across different lands to critique social norms, national identities, and human behavior.
“The Prelude” by William Wordsworth – Like Goldsmith’s poem, this work is a reflective and philosophical piece about travel, personal growth, and the connection between nature and the human spirit.
Representative Quotations of “The Traveller” by Oliver Goldsmith
“Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow… My heart, untravelled, fondly turns to thee.”
The speaker reflects on his loneliness as he travels through foreign lands. Despite his journey, he feels an emotional pull toward home.
Romanticism – Emphasizes emotion, nostalgia, and the personal longing for home as an essential part of human experience.
“But me, not destined such delights to share, / My prime of life in wandering spent and care.”
Goldsmith expresses the burden of endless wandering, contrasting it with the joys of a stable life that he is unable to experience.
Existentialism – Highlights the idea of an individual’s search for purpose and the struggle of a wandering life.
“Creation’s heir, the world, the world is mine!”
The poet momentarily claims ownership of the world in a philosophical sense, suggesting that the beauty of creation belongs to all who can appreciate it.
Philosophical Idealism – Suggests that appreciation and perception of beauty grant ownership beyond material possession.
“At gold’s superior charms all freedom flies; / The needy sell it, and the rich man buys.”
Goldsmith critiques the way economic power determines personal and national freedom, showing how wealth can lead to oppression.
Marxist Criticism – Critiques capitalism and how wealth creates social inequalities and restricts personal freedoms.
“Though poor, luxurious; though submissive, vain; / Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue.”
This line highlights contradictions in human nature, describing people who embody opposing characteristics, emphasizing societal hypocrisy.
Postmodernism – Exposes the contradictions within human identity and the blurred lines between sincerity and hypocrisy.
“Such is the patriot’s boast where’er we roam, / His first, best country ever is at home.”
The poet critiques blind patriotism, observing how people always believe their homeland is superior, even if another country offers a better quality of life.
Postcolonial Criticism – Questions national superiority and how patriotism can prevent people from acknowledging social and political realities.
“Say, should the philosophic mind disdain / That good which makes each humbler bosom vain?”
Goldsmith questions whether intellectuals should dismiss simple joys, highlighting the tension between philosophy and common human pleasures.
Moral and Philosophical Criticism – Debates the value of intellectual skepticism versus the satisfaction of simple pleasures.
“And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, / Clings close and closer to the mother’s breast.”
This simile compares the deep attachment people have to their homeland with a frightened child clinging to its mother, illustrating emotional dependence.
Psychoanalytic Theory – Examines the subconscious need for security and attachment to familiar places and traditions.
“But where to find that happiest spot below / Who can direct, when all pretend to know?”
The poet acknowledges the subjectivity of happiness, suggesting that no single place holds the key to fulfillment.
Sociological Criticism – Explores the subjective nature of happiness and how society influences perceptions of fulfillment.
“Still to ourselves in every place consign’d, / Our own felicity we make or find.”
Goldsmith asserts that happiness is largely self-created, reinforcing the idea that contentment depends on personal perspective rather than external circumstances.
Humanism – Emphasizes individual agency in shaping one’s own happiness, highlighting the importance of self-awareness and inner contentment.
Suggested Readings: “The Traveller” by Oliver Goldsmith
Goldsmith, Oliver. The Traveller: Or, A Prospect of Society. 1876.
Lee, Gerard A. “Oliver Goldsmith.” Dublin Historical Record, vol. 26, no. 1, 1972, pp. 2–17. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/30104035. Accessed 19 Mar. 2025.
Storm, Leo. “Conventional Ethics in Goldsmith’s The Traveller.” Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900, vol. 17, no. 3, 1977, pp. 463–76. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/450079. Accessed 19 Mar. 2025.
Schwegel, Douglas M. “The American Couplets in ‘The Deserted Village.’” The Georgia Review, vol. 16, no. 2, 1962, pp. 148–53. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41395868. Accessed 19 Mar. 2025.
