utility if its feathers were all of one colour." He felt what I thus produced, and had recourse to his usual expedient-ridicule: exclaiming, "A peacock has a tail, and a fox has a tail"; and then he burst out into a laugh. "Well, sir (said I, with a strong voice, looking him full in the face), you have unkennelled your fox; pursue him if you dare." He had not a word to say, sir.' Johnson told me that this was a fiction from beginning to end.1

6

After musing for some time, he said, 'I wonder how I should have any enemies; for I do harm to nobody.'' BoSWELL: In the first place, sir, you will be pleased to recollect that you set out with attacking the Scotch; so you got a whole nation for your enemies.' JOHNSON: 'Why, I own that by my definition of oats I meant to vex them.' BOSWELL: 'Pray, sir, can you trace the cause of your antipathy to the Scotch?' JOHNSON: 'I can not, sir.' BoswELL: ́Old Mr. Sheridan says, it was because they sold Charles the First.' JOHNSON: "Then, sir, old Mr. Sheridan has found out a very good reason.

1 Were I to insert all the stories which had been told of contests boldly maintained with him, imaginary victories obtained over him, of reducing him to silence, and of making him own that his antagonist had the better of him in argument, my volumes would swell to an immoderate size. One instance, I find, has circulated both in conversation and in print; that when he would not allow the Scotch writers to have merit, the late Dr. Rose of Chiswick asserted that he could name one Scotch writer whom Dr. Johnson himself would allow to have written better than any man of the age; and upon Johnson's asking who it was, answered, 'Lord Bute, when he signed the warrant for your pension. Upon which, Johnson, struck with the repartee, acknow ledged that this was true. When I mentioned it to Johnson, Sir (said heard

be), if Rose said this, I never natural in a man of a good heart, who was

not conscious of any ill-will to mankind, though the sharp sayings which were sometimes produced by his discrimination and vivacity, which he perhaps did not recollect, were, I am afraid, too often remembered with resentment.

Surely the most obstinate and sulky rationality, the most determined aversion to this great and good man, must be cured, when he is seen thus playing with one of his prejudices, of which he candidly admitted that he could not tell the reason. It was, however, probably owing to his having had in his view the worst part of the Scottish nation, the needy adventurers, many of whom he thought were advanced above their merits by means which he did not approve. Had he in his early life been in Scotland, and seen the worthy, sensible, independent gentlemen, who live rationally and hospitably at home, he never could have entertained such unfavourable and unjust notions of his fellow-subjects. And, accordingly, we find that when he did visit Scotland, in the latter period of his life, he was fully sensible of all that it deserved, as I have already pointed out, when speaking of his Journey to the Western Islands.

Next day, Saturday, March 22, I found him still at Mrs. Thrale's, but he told me that he was to go to his own house in the afternoon. He was better, but I perceived he was an unruly patient, for Sir Lucas Pepys, who visited him while I was with him, said, 'If you were tractable, sir, I should prescribe for you.'

I related to him a remark which a respectable friend had made to me, upon the then state of Government, when those who had long been in opposition had attained to power, as it was supposed, against the inclination of the sovereign. "You need not be uneasy (said this gentleman) about the King. He laughs at them all; he plays them one against another.' JOHNSON: 'Don't think so, sir. The King is as much

oppressed as a man can be. If he plays them one against another, he wins nothing.'

I had paid a visit to General Oglethorpe in the morning, and was told by him that Dr. Johnson saw company on Saturday evenings, and he would meet me at Johnson's that night. When I mentioned this to Johnson, not doubting that it would please him, as he had a great value for Oglethorpe, the fretfulness of his disease unexpectedly showed itself; his anger suddenly kindled, and he said with vehemence, 'Did not you tell him not to come? Am I to be hunted in this manner?' I satisfied him that I could not divine that the visit would not be convenient, and that I certainly could not take it upon me of my own accord to forbid the General.

I found Dr. Johnson in the evening in Mrs. Williams's room, at tea and coffee with her and Mrs. Desmoulins, who were also both ill; it was a sad scene, and he was not in a very good humour. He said of a performance that had lately come out, ‘Sir, if you should search all the madhouses in England you would not find ten men who would write so and think it sense.'

I was glad when General Oglethorpe's arrival was announced, and we left the ladies. Dr. Johnson attended him in the parlour, and was as courteous as ever. The General said he was busy reading the writers of the middle age. Johnson said they were very curious. OGLETHORPE: "The House of Commons has usurped the power of the nation's money, and used it tyrannically. Government is now carried on by corrupt influence instead of the inherent right in the King.' JOHNSON: 'Sir, the want of inherent right

in the King occasions all this disturbance. What we did at the Revolution was necessary: but it broke our constitution.'1 OGLETHORPE: 'My father did not think it necessary.'

On Sunday, March 23, I breakfasted with Dr. Johnson, who seemed much relieved, having taken opium the night before. He, however, protested against it as a remedy that should be given with the utmost reluctance and only in extreme necessity. I mentioned how commonly it was used in Turkey, and that therefore it could not be so pernicious as he apprehended. He grew warm and said, 'Turks take opium and Christians take opium; but Russell, in his account of Aleppo, tells us, that it is as disgraceful in Turkey to take too much opium as it is with us to get drunk. Sir, it is amazing how things are exaggerated. A gentleman was lately telling in a company where I was present, that in France as soon as a man of fashion marries he takes an opera girl into keeping; and this he mentioned as a general custom. "Pray, sir (said I), how many opera girls may there be?" He answered, 66 About fourscore." Well then, sir (said I), you see there can be no more than fourscore men of fashion who can do this."

Mrs. Desmoulins made tea; and she and I talked before him upon a topic which he had once borne patiently from me when we were by ourselves,-his not complaining of the world because he was not called

1 I have, in my Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, fully expressed my sentiments upon this subject. The Revolution was necessary, but not a subject for glory; because it for a long time blasted the generous feelings of loyalty. And now, when by the benignant effect of time the present Royal Family are established in our affections, how unwise is it to revive by celebrations the memory of a shock, which it would surely have been better that our constitution had not required!

to some great office nor had attained to great wealth. He flew into a violent passion, I confess with some justice, and commanded us to have done. 'Nobody (said he), has a right to talk in this manner, to bring before a man his own character and the events of his life, when he does not choose it should be done. I never have sought the world: the world was not to seek me. It is rather wonderful that so much has been done for me. All the complaints which are made of the world are unjust. I never knew a man of merit neglected: it was generally by his own fault that he failed of success. A man may hide his head in a hole: he may go into the country and publish a book now and then, which nobody reads, and then complain he is neglected. There is no reason why any person should exert himself for a man who has written a good book: he has not written it for any individual. I may as well make a present to a postman who brings me a letter. When patronage was limited, an author expected to find a Mæcenas, and complained if he did not find one. Why should he complain? This Mæcenas has others as good as he, or others who have got the start of him.' BosWELL: 'But surely, sir, you will allow that there are men of merit at the bar who never get practice?' JOHNSON: 'Sir, you are sure that practice is got from an opinion that the person employed deserves it best; so that if a man of merit at the bar does not get practice it is from error, not from injustice. He is not neglected. A horse that is brought to market may not be bought though he is a very good horse: but that is from ignorance, not from intention.'

There was in this discourse much novelty, ingenuity,