Ætat, 67

1776. think of going to Dilly's: it went out of my head. I have ordered dinner at home with Mrs. Williams." Boswell. “But, my dear Sir, you

know

you were engaged to Mr. Dilly, and I told him so. He will expect you, and will be much disappointed if you don't come.” JOHNSON. “ You must talk to Mrs. Williams about this.”

Here was a fad dilemma. I feared that what I was so confident I had secured would yet be frustrated. He had accustomed himself to sew Mrs. Williams such a degree of humane attention, as frequently imposed some restraint upon him; and I knew that if the should be obstinate, he would not fir. I hastened down stairs to the blind lady's room, and told her I was in great uneasiness, for Dr. Johnson had engaged to me to dine this day at Mr. Dilly's, but that he had told me he had forgotten his engagement, and had ordered dinner at home. “ Yes, Sir, (faid she, pretty peevishly,) Dr. Johnson is to dine at home.”—“Madam, (said I,) his respect for you is such, that I know he will not leave you unless you absolutely desire it. But as you have so much of his company, I hope you will be good enough to forego it for a day, as Mr. Dilly is a very worthy man, has frequently had agreeable parties at his house for Dr. Johnson, and will be vexed if the Doctor neglects him to-day. And then, Madam, be pleased to consider my situation ; I carried the message, and I assured Mr. Dilly that Dr. Johnson was to come, and no doubt he has inade a dinner, and invited a company, and boasted of the honour he expected to have. I shall be quite disgraced if the Doctor is not there.” She gradually softened to my solicitations, which were certainly as earnest as most entreaties to ladies upon any occasion, and was graciously pleased to empower me to tell Dr. Johnson, « That all things considered, she thought he should certainly go.” I few back to him, still in dust, and careless of what should be the event, “ indifferent in his choice to go or stay;" but as soon as I had announced to him Mrs. Williams's consent, he roared, “ Frank, a clean shirt,” and was very soon drest. When I had him fairly seated in a hackney-coach with me, I exulted as much as a fortune-hunter who has got an heiress into a post-chaise with him to set out for Gretna-Green.

When we entered Mr. Dilly's drawing-room, he found himself in the midst of a company he did not know. I kept myself snug and silent, watching how he would conduct himself. I observed him whispering to Mr. Dilly, “Who is that gentleman, Sir?”-“ Mr. Arthur Lee.”—Johnson. “ Tut, tut, tut,” (under his breath,) which was one of his habitual mutterings. Mr. Arthur Lee could not but be very obnoxious to Johnson, for he was not only a patriot but an American. He was afterwards minifter from the United States at the court

of

of Madrid. “ And who is the gentleman in lace?”-“ Mr. Wilkes, Sir."

. .

1776. This information confounded him ftill more; he had some difficulty to Arat. 67. restrain himself, and taking up a book, sat down upon a window-seat and read, or at least kept his eye upon it intently for some time, till he composed himself.

His feelings, I dare say, were aukward enough. But he no doubt recollected his having rated me for supposing that he could be at all disconcerted by any company, and he, therefore, resolutely set himself to behave quite as an easy man of the world, who could adapt himself at once to the disposition and manners of those whom he might chance to meet.

The cheering sound of “ Dinner is upon the table,” dissolved his reverie, and we all sat down without any symptom of ill humour. There were present, besides Mr. Wilkes, and Mr. Arthur Lee, who was an old companion of mine when he studied physick at Edinburgh, Mr. (now Sir John) Miller, Dr. Lettfomn, and Mr. Slater the druggist. Mr. Wilkes placed himself next to Dr. Johnson, and behaved to him with so much attention and politeness, that he gained upon him insensibly. No man eat more heartily than Johnson, or loved better what was nice and delicate. Mr. Wilkes was very assiduous in helping him tò fome fine veal. Pray give me leave, Sir :-It is better here- A little of the brown-Some fat, Sir-A little of the stuffing-Some gravy-Let me have the pleasure of giving you some butter—Allow me to recommend a squeeze of this orange-or the lemon, perhaps, may have more zest.”—“Sir, Sir, I am obliged to you, Sir,” cried Johnson, bowing, and turning his head to him with a look for some time of “ surly virtue ?,

' but, in a short while, of complacency.

Foote being mentioned, Johnson said, “He is not a good mimick.” One of the company added, “A merry Andrew, a buffoon.” Johnson “ But he has wit too, and is not deficient in ideas, or in fertility and variety of imagery, and not empty of reading; he has knowledge enough to fill up his part. One species of wit he has in an eminent degree, that of escape. You drive him into a corner with both hands; but he's gone, Sir, when you think

got him-like an animal that jumps over your head. Then he has a great range for his wit; he never lets truth stand between him and a jest, and he is sometimes mighty coarse. Garrick is under many restraints from which Foote is free.” Wilkes. “ Garrick's wit is more like Lord Chesterfield's.” Johnson. “ The first time I was in company with Foote was at Fitzherbert's. Having no good opinion of the fellow, I was resolved not to be pleased, and it is very difficult to please a man against his will. I went

a

1776. on eating my dinner pretty fullenly, affecting not to mind him. But the
Ætat. 67. dog was so very comical, that I was obliged to lay down my knife and fork, ,

throw myself back upon my chair, and fairly laugh it out. No, Sir, he was
irresistible?. He upon one occasion experienced, in an extraordinary degree,
the efficacy of his powers of entertaining. Amongst the many and various
modes which he tried of getting money, he became a partner with a small-
beer brewer, and he was to have a share of the profits for procuring customers
amongst his numerous acquaintance. Fitzherbert was one who took his
small-beer; but it was so bad that the servants resolved not to drink it.
They were at some loss how to notify their resolution, being afraid of
offending their master, who they knew liked Foote much as a companion.
At last they fixed upon a little black boy, who was rather a favourite, to be
their deputy, and deliver their remonstrance; and having invested him with
the whole authority of the kitchen, he was to inform Mr. Fitzherbert, in all
their names, upon a certain day, that they would drink Foote's small-beer
no longer. On that day Foote happened to dine at Fitzherbert's, and this
boy served at table ; he was so delighted with Foote's stories, and merriment,
and grimace, that when he went down stairs, he told them, “ This is the
fineft man I have ever seen. I will not deliver your message. I will drink
his small-beer.”

Somebody observed that Garrick could not have done this.' Wilkes.
u Garrick would have made the small-beer ftill fmaller. He is now leaving
the stage, but he will play Scrub all his life." I knew that Johnson would
let nobody attack Garrick but himself, as Garrick once said to me, and I had
heard him praise his liberality; so to bring out his commendation of his
celebrated pupil, I said, loudly, “I have heard Garrick is liberal.” Johnson.

Yes, Sir, I know that Garrick has given away more money than any man in England that I am acquainted with, and that not from oftentatious views. Garrick was very poor when he began life; so when he came to have money, he probably was very unskilful in giving away, and saved when he should not. But Garrick began to be liberal as soon as he could; and I am of opinion, the reputation of avarice which he has had, has been very lucky for him, and prevented his having many enemies. You despise a man for avarice, but do not hate him. Garrick might have been much better attacked for living with more fplendour than is suitable to a player: if they had had the wit to have affaulted him in that quarter, they might have galled him more. But

1

1776.

Ætat. 67

they have kept clamouring about his avarice, which has rescued him from much obloquy and envy.”

Talking of the great difficulty of obtaining authentick information for biography, Johnson told us, “ When I was a young fellow I wanted to write the · Life of Dryden,' and in order to get materials, I applied to the only two persons then alive who had seen him; thefe were old Swiney, and old Cibber. Swiney's information was no more than this, “That at Will's coffeehouse Dryden had a particular chair for himself, which was set by the fire in winter, and was then called his winter-chair; and that it was carried out for him to the balcony in summer, and was then called his summer-chair.' Cibber could tell no more but "That he remembered him a decent old man, arbiter of critical disputes at Will's.' You are to consider that Cibber was then at a great distance from Dryden, had perhaps one leg only in the room, and durft not draw in the other.” BOSWELL. “ Yet Cibber was a man of obfervation?” Johnson. “I think not.” Boswell. “ You will allow his . Apology' to be well done.” Johnson. " Very well done, to be fure, Sir. That book is a striking proof of the justice of Pope's remark:

• Each might his several province well command,
• Would all but stoop to what they understand.”

Boswell. “ And his plays are good.” JOHNSON. “ Yes; but that was his trade; l'esprit du corps; he had been all his life among players and playwriters. I wondered that he had so little to fay in conversation, for he had kept the best company, and learnt all that can be got by the ear. He abufed Pindar to me, and then shewed me an Ode of his own, with an abfurd couplet, making a linnet foar on an eagle's wing*. I told him that when the ancients made a fimile, they always made it like something real.”

Mr. Wilkes remarked, that “ among all the bold Aights of Shakspeare's imagination, the boldest was making Birnam-wood march to Dunsinane ; creating a wood where there never was a shrub; a wood in Scotland! ha! ha! ha!” And he also observed, that “ the clannish Navery of the Highlands of Scotland was the single exception to Milton's remark of · The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty,' being worshipped in all hilly countries.”_"When I was at Inverary (faid he,) on a visit to my old friend, Archibald, Duke of Argyle, his dependents congratulated me on being fuch a favourite of his Grace. I said, “It is then, gentlemen, truly lucky for me; for if I had

1776.

difpleased the Duke, and he had wished it, there is not a Campbell among you Ætat. 67.

but would have been ready to bring John Wilkes's head to him in a charger.
It would have been only

< off with his head! So much for Aylesbury.'
I was then member for Aylesbury.”

Dr. Johnson and Mr. Wilkes talked of the contested passage in Horace's “ Art of Poetry,” “ Difficile est propriè communia dicere.” Mr. Wilkes, according to my note, gave the interpretation thus: “It is difficult to speak with propriety of common things; as, if a poet had to speak of Queen Caroline drinking tea, he must endeavour to avoid the vulgarity of cups

and
faucers.” But upon reading my note, he tells me that he meant to say, that
“the word communia, being a Roman law term, signifies here things communis
juris, that is to say, what have never yet been treated by any body; and this
appears clearly from what followed,

Tuque
< Retiùs Iliacum carmen deducis in aftus,

Quàm si proferres ignota indictaque primus.”
You will easier make a tragedy out of the Iliad than on any subject not
handled before. Johnson. “He means that it is difficult to appropriate

5

to

5 My very pleasant friend himself, as well as others who remember old stories, will no doubt startle, when I'observe that John Wilkes here shews himself to be of the WARBURTONIAN School. It is nevertheless true, as appears from Dr. Hurd the Bishop of Worcester's very elegant commentary and notes on the “ Epiftola ad Pifones."

It is necessary to a fair confideration of the question, that the whole passage in which the words
occur should be kept in view :

“ Si quid inexpertum scena committis, et audes
“ Perfonam formare novam, servetur ad imum
" Qualis ab incepto proceserit, et fibi conftet.
“ Difficile eft propriè communia dicere : tuque
" Reetiùs Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,

Quàm fi proferres ignota indi&taque primus.
" Publica materies privati juris erit, fi
“ Non circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem,
" Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere fidus

Interpres; nec deflies imitator in artum

“ Unde pedem proferre pudor vetat aut operis lex."
The “ Commentary” thus illustrates it : “ But the formation of quite new charakters is a
work of great difficulty and hazard. For here there is no generally received and fixed archetype

to