1763. His position in the club will be better understood, from this sketch of its leading members. He found himself, of Et. 35. course, at a great disadvantage. The leading traits of character which this narrative has exhibited, here, for the most part, told against him. If, on entering it, his rank and claims in letters had been better ascertained, more allowance would have then been made, not alone by the Hawkinses, but by the Beauclercs and Burkes, for awkwardness of manners and ungainliness of aspect, for that ready credulity which is said to be the only disadvantage of an honest man, for a simplicity of nature that should have disarmed instead of inviting ridicule, and for the too sensitive spirit which small annoyances overthrew. They who have no other means of acquiring respect than by insisting on it, will commonly succeed; but Goldsmith had too many of those other means unrecognised, and was too constantly contending for them, to have energy to spare for that simpler method. If he could only have arrived, where Steele was brought by the witty yet gentle ridicule of Dick Eastcourt, at the happiness of thinking nothing a diminution to him but what argued a depravity of his will, then might anything Beauclerc or Hawkins could have said, of his shape, his air, his manner, his speech, or his address, have but led to a manly enforcement of more real claims.* But there was nothing in this The reader who is not already familiar with this wise and exquisite paper will thank me for referring him to it in the 468th number of the Spectator. How exquisite are the subjoined passages in thought as well as style! "It is an "Insolence natural to the Wealthy, to affix, as much as in them lies, the "Character of a Man to his Circumstances. Thus it is ordinary with them to "praise faintly the good Qualities of those below them, and say, It is very extra“ordinary in such a Man as he is, or the like, when they are forced to acknowledge "the Value of him whose Lowness upbraids their Exaltation. It is to this "Humour only, that it is to be ascribed, that a quick Wit in Conversation, a nice "Judgment upon any Emergency that could arise, and a most blameless inoffen"sive Behaviour, could not raise this Man above being received only upon the 1763. respect too trifling for him not to think a diminution, Æt. 35. exacting effort and failure anew. It was now, more than ever, he called William Filby to his aid, and appeared in tailor's finery which made plainer the defects it was meant to hide. It was now he resented non-acceptance of himself by affecting careless judgments of others. It was now that his very avarice of social pleasure made him fretful of the restraints of Gerrardstreet; and all he had suffered or enjoyed of old, in the college class room, at the inn of Ballymahon, among the Axe-lane beggars, or in the garret of Griffiths, reacted on his cordial but fitful nature;-never seriously to spoil, but very often to obscure it. Too little self-confidence begets the forms of vanity, and self-love will exaggerate faults as well as virtues. If Goldsmith had been more thoroughly assured of his own fine genius, the slow social recognition of it would have made him less uneasy; but he was thrust suddenly into this society, with little beyond a vague sense of other claims than it was disposed to concede to him, however little it might sympathise with the special contempts of Hawkins; and what argued a doubt in others, seems to have become one to himself, which he took as doubtful means of reinforcing. If they could talk, why so could he; but unhappily he did not talk, as in festive evenings at Islington or the White-conduit, to please "Foot of contributing to Mirth and Diversion. . . . It is certainly as great an "Instance of Self-love to a Weakness, to be impatient of being mimick'd, as any can be imagined. There were none but the Vain, the Formal, the Proud, or "those who were incapable of amending their Faults, that dreaded him; to others "he was in the highest Degree pleasing; and I do not know any Satisfaction of any indifferent kind I ever tasted so much, as having got over an Impatience of "my seeing myself in the Air he could put me when I have displeased him. It "is indeed to his exquisite Talent this way, more than any Philosophy I could "read on the Subject, that my Person is very little of my Care; and it is "indifferent to me what is said of my Shape, my Air, my Manner, my Speech, or "my Address. It is to poor Eastcourt I chiefly owe that I am arrived at the "Happiness of thinking nothing a Diminution to me, but what argues a Depravity "of my Will." himself, but to force others to be pleased. Tom Davies 1763. was no very acute observer; yet even he has noted of him, Et. 35. that, so far from desiring to appear to the best advantage, he took more pains to be esteemed worse than he was, than others do to appear better than they are :* which was but saying, awkwardly enough, that he failed to make himself understood. How time will modify all this; how far the acquisition of his fame, and its effects upon himself, will strengthen, with respect, the love which even they who most laughed at already bore him; and in how much this laughing habit will nevertheless still beset his friends, surviving its excuses and occasion; the course of this narrative must show. That his future would more than redeem his past, Johnson was the first to maintain; for his own experience of hardship had helped his affection to discern it, and he was never, at any period of their intercourse, so forbearing as at this. Goldsmith's position in these days should nevertheless be well understood, if we would read aright the ampler chronicle which later years obtained. He who was to be the chronicler had arrived again in London. "Look, my lord!" exclaimed Tom Davies with the voice and attitude of Horatio, addressing a young gentleman who was sitting at tea with himself and Mrs. Davies in their little back parlour, on the evening of Monday the 16th of May, and pointing to an uncouth figure advancing towards the glass door by which the parlour opened to the shop, "It comes!" The hope of the young gentleman's life was at last arrived. "Don't tell where I come from," he whis pered, as Johnson entered with Arthur Murphy.t "This is *Life of Garrick, ii. 168. + Arthur has also described the scene; but though he professes to relate it very differently from Boswell, one hardly discovers the alleged material discrepancy. A A 1763. Æt. 35. "Mr. Boswell, sir," said Davies; adding waggishly, "From "Scotland, sir!" "Mr. Johnson," said poor Boswell in a flutter (for the town was now ringing with Number Forty-five, Bute had just retired before the anti-Scottish storm, and Johnson's antipathies were notorious), "I do indeed come "from Scotland, but I cannot help it. "That, sir, I find," said the remorseless wit, “is what a very great many of your “countrymen cannot help. Now," he added, turning to Davies as he sat down, regardless of the stunned young gentleman," what do you think of Garrick? He has refused me an order to the play for Miss Williams, because he "knows the house will be full, and that an order would be "worth three shillings." Boswell roused himself at this, for what he thought would be a flattering thing to say. He knew that Garrick had, but a few years before, assisted this very Miss Williams by a free benefit at his theatre; but he did not yet know how little Johnson meant by such a sally, or that he claimed to himself a kind of exclusive property in Garrick, for abuse as well as praise. "O, sir,” he exclaimed, "I cannot think Mr. Garrick would grudge such a trifle to "you." "Sir!" rejoined the other, with a look and tone that shut up his luckless admirer for the rest of the evening, "I have known David Garrick longer than you have done; "and I know no right you have to talk to me on the subject." A characteristic commencement of a friendship 66 66 "This writer went with him [Johnson] into the shop of Davies, the bookseller, in 66 6 very interesting to all men. The self-complacent young 1763. Scot could hardly have opened it better, than by showing Et. 35. how much his coolness and self-complacency could bear. He rallied from the shock; and, though he did not open his mouth again, very widely opened his ears, and showed eagerness and admiration unabated. 66 "Don't be uneasy," said Davies, following him to the door as he went away : I can see he likes you very well.”* So emboldened, the "giant's den" itself was daringly invaded after a few days; and the giant, among other unusual ways of showing his benevolence, took to praising Garrick this time. After that, the fat little pompous figure now eager to make itself the giant's shadow, might be seen commonly on the wait for him at his various haunts: in ordinaries at the social dinner hour, or by Temple-bar in the jovial midnight watches (Johnson's present habit, as he tells us himself, was to leave his chambers at four in the afternoon, and seldom to return till two in the morning) to tempt him to the Mitre. They supped at that tavern for the first time on the 25th of June; but Boswell, who tells us what passed, has failed to tell us at what particular dish it was of their "good supper," or at what glass of the " two bottles" of port they disposed of, that Johnson suddenly roared across the table," Give me your hand; I have taken a liking to you." They talked of Goldsmith. He was a somewhat uneasy subject to Boswell, who could not comprehend how he had managed to become so great a favourite with so great a man. For he had published absolutely nothing with his name (Boswell himself had just published "Newmarket, a Tale"); he was a man that as yet you never heard of, but as one "Dr. Goldsmith;" and all who knew him seemed to know that *Boswell, ii. 168. |