say this himself, he will not easily forgive his friends if they do not contradict him!"

"Garrick," he said, "is accused of vanity; but few men would have borne such unremitting prosperity with greater, if with equal, moderation. He is accused, too, of avarice, though he lives rather like a prince than an actor. But the frugality he practised when he first appeared in the world, has put a stamp upon his character ever since. And now, though his table, his equipage, and his establishment, are equal to those of persons of the most splendid rank, the original stain of avarice still blots his name. And yet, had not his early, and perhaps necessary economy, fixed upon him the charge of thrift, he would long since have been reproached with that of luxury."

Another time he said of him, “ Garrick never enters a room, but he regards himself as the object of general attention, from whom the entertainment of the company is expected. And true it is, that he seldom disappoints that expectation: for he has infinite humour, a very just proportion of wit, and more convivial pleasantry than almost any man living. But then, off as well as on the stage, he is always an actor; for he holds it so incumbent upon him to be sportive, that his gaiety, from being habitual, is become mechanical: and he can exert his spirits at all times alike, without any consultation of his disposition to hilarity."

422. Streatham.-" Evelina."

Dr. Johnson, however undesignedly, was the cause of the new author's invitation to Streatham, from being the first person who there had pronounced the name of "Evelina ;" and that previously to the discovery that its unknown writer was the daughter of a man whose early enthusiasm for Dr. Johnson had merited his warm acknowledgments. The curiosity of the Doctor, howe ever, though certainly excited, was by no means uf

powerful as to allure him from his chamber one moment before his customary time of descending to dinner; and the new author had three or four hours to pass in constantly augmenting trepidation for the prospect of seeing him, which so short a time before would have sufficed for her delight, was now chequered by the consciousness that she could not, as heretofore, be in his presence only for her own gratification, without any reciprocity of notice.

The morning was passed in the library, and to Doctor Burney and his daughter was passed deliciously: Mrs. Thrale, much amused by the presence of two persons so peculiarly situated, put forth her utmost powers of pleasing. "I wish you had been with us last night, Dr. Burney," she said; "for thinking of what would happen to-day, we could talk of nothing in the world but a certain sweet book; and Dr. Johnson was so full of it, that he quite astonished us. He has got those incomparable Brangtons quite by heart, and he recited scene after scene of their squabbles, and selfishness, and forwardness, till he quite shook his sides with laughter. But his greatest favourite is the Holborn beau, as he calls Mr. Smith. Such a fine varnish, he says, of low politeness! such struggles to appear the fine gentleman! such a determination to be, genteel! and, above all, such profound devotion to the ladies,—while openly declaring his distaste to matrimony! All this Mr. Johnson pointed out with so much comicality of sport, that, at last, he got into such high spirits, that he set about personating Mr. Smith himself. We all thought

we must have died no other death than that of suffocation, in seeing Dr. Johnson handing about any thing he could catch, or snatch at, and making smirking bows, saying he was all for the ladies, - every thing that was agreeable to the ladies, &c. &c., "except," says he, "going to church with them and as to that, though marriage, to be sure, is all in all to the ladies

And then he pur.

marriage to a man-is the devil!" sued his personifications of his Holborn beau, till he brought him to what Mr. Johnson calls his climax, which is his meeting with Sir Clement Willoughby at Madame Duval's, where a blow is given at once to his self-sufficiency, by the surprise and confusion of seeing himself so distanced; and the hopeless envy with which he looks up to Sir Clement, as to a meteor such as he himself had hitherto been looked up to at Snow Hill, that give a finishing touch to his portrait. And all this comic humour of character he says, owes its effect to contrast; for without Lord Orville, and Mr. Villars, and that melancholy and gentleman-like half-starved Scotchman, poor Macartney, the Brangtons, and the Duvals, would be less than nothing; for vulgarity, in its own unshadowed glare, is only disgusting."

423. Introduction to Johnson.

When at last we were summoned to dinner, Mrs. Thrale made my father and myself sit on each side of her. I said, I hoped I did not take the place of Dr. Johnson: for, to my great consternation, he did not even yet appear, and I began to apprehend he meant to abscond. 66 No," answered Mrs. Thrale; " he will sit

next to you, pleasure."

and that, I am sure, will give him great

Soon after we were all marshalled, the great mar entered. Mrs. Thrale introduced me to him with an emphasis upon my name that rather frightened me, for it seemed like a call for some compliment. But he made me a bow the most formal, almost solemn, in utter silence, and with his eyes bent downwards. I felt relieved by this distance, for I thought he had forgotten, for the present at least, both the favoured little book and the invited little scribbler; and I therefore began to answer the perpetual addresses to me of Mrs. Thrale

with rather more ease.

But by the time I was thus re

covered from my panic, Dr. Johnson asked my father what was the composition of some little pies on his side of the table; and, while my father was endeavouring to make it out, Mrs. Thrale said, 66 Nothing but mutton, Mr. Johnson, so I don't ask you to eat such poor patties, because I know you despise them."

"No, Madam, no!" cried Dr. Johnson, "I despise nothing that is good of its sort. But I am too proud

"Miss

now [smiling] to eat mutton pies. Sitting by Miss Burney makes me very proud to-day!" Burney," cried Mrs. Thrale, laughing,

66

you must take great care of your heart, if Mr. Johnson attacks it; for I assure you he is not often successless!" "What's that you say, Madam?" cried the Doctor; are you making mischief between the young lady and me already?"

66

A little while afterwards, he drank Miss Thrale's health and mine together, in a bumper of lemonade; and then added, "It is a terrible thing that we cannot wish young ladies to be well, without wishing them to become old women!" “If the pleasures of longevity were not gradual," said my father, "if we were to light upon them by a jump or a skip, we should be cruelly at a loss how to give them welcome." "But some people," said Mr. Seward, "are young and old at the same time; for they wear so well, that they never look old." "No, Sir, no!" cried the Doctor; "that never yet was, and never will be. You might as well say they were at the same time tall and short. Though I recollect an epitaph-I forget upon whom—to that purpose:

"Miss such a one- lies buried here,

So early wise, and lasting fair,
That none, unless her years you told,
Thought her a child - —or thought her old.”

My father then mentioned Mr. Garrick's epilogue to 66 Bonduca," which Dr. Johnson called a miserable performance; and which every body agreed to be the worst that Mr. Garrick had ever written. "And yet,'

said Mr. Seward, "it has been very much admired. But it is in praise of English valour, and so, I suppose, the subject made it popular." "I do not know, Sir,'

said Dr. Johnson, " any thing about the subject, for I could not read till I came to any. I got through about half a dozen lines; but for subject, I could observe no other than perpetual dulness. I do not know what is the matter with David. I am afraid he is becoming superannuated; for his prologues and epilogues used to be incomparable.”

"Nothing is so fatiguing," said Mrs. Thrale, as the life of a wit. Garrick and Wilkes are the oldest men of their age that I know; for they have both worn themselves out prematurely by being eternally on the rack to entertain others." 66 David, Madam," said the Doctor, "looks much older than he is, because his face has had double the business of any other man's. It is never at rest. When he speaks one minute, he has quite a different countenance to that which he assumes the next. I do not believe he ever kept the same look for half an hour together in the whole course of his life. And such a perpetual play of the muscles must certainly wear a man's face out before his time."

While I was cordially laughing at this idea, the Doctor, who had probably observed in me some little uneasy trepidation, and now, I suppose, concluded me restored to my usual state, suddenly, though very ceremoniously, as if to begin some acquaintance with me, requested that I would help him to some broceli. This I did; but when he took it, he put on a face of humorous discontent, and said, "Only this, Madam? You would not have helped M Macartney so parsimoniously!"