New Inn Hall. Having had no letter from him since that in which he criticised the Latinity of my Thesis, and having been told by somebody that he was offended at my having put into my Book an extract of his letter to me at Paris, I was impatient to be with him, and therefore followed him to Oxford, where I was entertained by Mr. Chambers, with a civility which I shall ever gratefully remember. I found that Dr. Johnson had sent a letter to me to Scotland, and that I had nothing to complain of but his being more indifferent to my anxiety than I wished him to be. Instead of giving, with the circumstances of time and place, such fragments of his conversation as I preserved during this visit to Oxford, I shall throw them together in continuation.

Talking of some of the modern plays, he said False Delicacy was totally void of character. He praised Goldsmith's Good-natured Man; said, it was the best comedy that had appeared since The Provoked Husband, and that there had not been of late any such character exhibited on the stage as that of Croaker. I observed it was the Suspirius of his Rambler. He said, Goldsmith had owned he had borrowed it from thence. 'Sir, (continued he,) there is all the difference in the world between characters of nature and characters of manners; and there is the difference between the characters of Fielding and those of Richardson. Characters of manners are very entertaining; but they are to be understood by a more superficial observer than characters of nature, where a man must dive into the recesses of the human heart.'

It always appeared to me that he estimated the compositions of Richardson too highly, and that he had an unreasonable prejudice against Fielding. In comparing those two writers, he used this expression: 'that there was as great a difference between them as between a man who knew how a watch was made, and a man who could tell the hour by looking on the dial-plate.'

'I have not been troubled for a long time with authours desiring my opinion of their works. I used once to be sadly plagued with a man who wrote verses, but who literally had no other notion of a verse, but that it consisted of ten sylla

bles. Lay your knife and your fork, across your plate, was to him a verse:

Lay your knife and your fork, across your plate.

As he wrote a great number of verses, he sometimes by chance made good ones, though he did not know it.'

Johnson expatiated on the advantages of Oxford for learning.There is here, Sir, (said he,) such a progressive emulation. The students are anxious to appear well to their tutors; the tutors are anxious to have their pupils appear well in the college; the colleges are anxious to have their students appear well in the University; and there are excellent rules of discipline in every college. That the rules are sometimes ill observed, may be true; but is nothing against the system. The members of an University may, for a season, be unmindful of their duty. I am arguing for the excellency of the institution.'

He said he had lately been a long while at Lichfield, but had grown very weary before he left it. BoSWELL. 'I wonder at that, Sir; it is your native place.' JOHNSON. 'Why, so is Scotland your native place.'

His prejudice against Scotland appeared remarkably strong at this time. When I talked of our advancement in literature, 'Sir, (said he,) you have learnt a little from us, and you think yourselves very great men. Hume would never have written History, had not Voltaire written it before him. He is an echo of Voltaire.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, we have Lord Kames.' JOHNSON. 'You have Lord Kames. Keep him; ha, ha, ha! We don't envy you him. Do you ever see Dr. Robertson?' BOSWELL. 'Yes, Sir.' JOHNSON. 'Does the dog talk of me?' BOSWELL. 'Indeed, Sir, he does, and loves you.' Thinking that I now had him in a corner, and being solicitous for the literary fame of my country, I pressed him for his opinion on the merit of Dr. Robertson's History of Scotland. But, to my surprize. he

LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON

plication of certain parts of the scriptures, and the doctrine insisted on by a gentlen fond of curious speculation. Johnson, who hear of any thing concerning a future stat authorised by the regular canons of orthod this talk; and being offended at its continua an opportunity to give the gentleman a blow So, when the poor speculatist, with a serio pensive face, addressed him, 'But really, S a very sensible dog, we don't know what t Johnson, rolling with joy at the thought w his eye, turned quickly round, and replied, when we see a very foolish fellow, we don' think of him.' He then rose up, strided to th for some time laughing and exulting.

I asked him if it was not hard that one chastity should so absolutely ruin a young SON. 'Why, no, Sir; it is the great princip taught. When she has given up that pri given up every notion of female honour an are all included in chastity.'

A gentleman talked to him of a lady wl admired and wished to marry, but was afrai ority of talents. 'Sir, (said he,) you need marry her. Before a year goes about, you'll much weaker, and that wit not so bright.' man may be justified in his apprehension Johnson's admirable sentences in his life o doubtless praised many whom he would have marry; and, perhaps, married one whom he w ashamed to praise. Many qualities contribu happiness, upon which poetry has no colou and many airs and sallies may delight imagina who flatters them never can approve.'

He praised Signor Baretti. 'His account very entertaining book; and, Sir, I know carries his head higher in conversation than B