brought into the presence of the premier, he asked him directly, "Pray, my lord, what am I expected to do for this pension?" to which his lordship answered promptly, "It is not given you for anything you are to do, but for what you have done." Johnson, whose mind was highly susceptible to flattery, provided his pride was not offended, was very favorably impressed with the lofty courtesy of the noble minister, and, as his last objection was removed, he consented to receive the proffered bounty.

Upon the receipt of the papers by which he became entitled to the annual sum of three hundred pounds, he wrote to the Earl of Bute a letter acknowledging it, expressed in terms as dignified, and yet as courteous, as any that his lordship could have used::

"TO THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL Of bute. "July 20, 1762.

"MY LORD, When the bills were yesterday delivered to me by Mr. Wedderburne, I was informed by him of the future favors which his Majesty has, by your lordship's recommendation, been induced to intend for me.

Bounty always receives part of its value from the manner in which it is bestowed; your lordship's kindness includes every circumstance that can gratify delicacy, or enforce obligation. You have conferred your favors on a man who has neither alliance nor interest, who has not merited them by services, nor courted them by officiousness: you have spared him the shame of solicitation, and the anxiety of suspense.

"What has been thus elegantly given, will, I hope, not be reproachfully enjoyed; I shall endeavor to give your lordship the only recompense which generosity desires-the gratification of finding that your benefits are not improperly bestowed. I am, my lord,

"Your lordship's most obliged, "Most obedient, and most humble servant,

abundance-some of them the empty flatteries that wait upon fortune-whose hollowness Johnson could at once detect and appreciate with the scorn they merited -but others were the sincere rejoicings of disinterested friendship, to which his spirit was eminently susceptible. The genial and benevolent heart of Reynolds throbbed with a quicker pulsation as he greeted his old friend, now forever delivered from the dread of

"Toil, envy, want, the garret, and the jail.” Garrick, too, though he had received so many hard thrusts from him, rejoiced most heartily at the bettered condition of his townsman and fellow-adventurer. Langton, who had often been greatly afflicted and almost disgusted by the sordid poverty of his venerated companion and instructor, now greeted him most cordially, and felt himself scarcely less favored by the royal bounty than its immediate recipient. And

even the reckless and satirical Beauclerk had a word of congratulation for the occasion, and exercising that liberty, which, beyond all others, he could use toward Johnson, applying the words of Falstaff, he "hoped he would now purge, and dress cleanly, and live like a gentleman." Johnson received the doubtful compliment complacently, and it was thought profited by the suggestion. From this epoch, a new era opens in Johnson's history.

This was

During the summer of 1762, he accompanied Reynolds on an excursion into Devonshire, his native county. probably the first time that he had ever given himself this kind of recreation, or spent any considerable time outside of London, since he first entered the metropolis. It is not strange, therefore, that he should find at the end that his rambles had brought him a great accession of new ideas. His associations during the visit were of a highly gratifying character; for the two friends were entertained by many of the nobility of the western counties, and they were everywhere treated with the utmost courtesy and deference, which to Johnson was as grateful as it was new. He had a great regard for the ancient aristocracy of the kingdom-especially when he was received among them and treated with the consideration that he felt he deserved. They remained longest at Plymouth, where Johnson carefully examined the naval armaments and the

sea.

While at Plymouth they were the guests of Dr. Mudge, the surgeon of the garrison, whose father, the Rev. Zechariah Mudge, prebendary of Exeter, was also at that time lodging with him. The guests were mutually much pleased with each other. This excellent and learned divine preached a sermon for the gratification of the guests at his son's house; and Johnson was so favorably impressed with his venerable friend, that many years afterward he sketched his character as a model of what a clergyman should be.

At this time the dock-yards were causing a new town to spring up, some two miles from the ancient town of Plymouth, which of course came to be looked upon as a rival. Between this and the old town a violent feud was now raging, and Johnson affected to enter largely into the controversy. That he lodged in the old town was sufficient reason why he should espouse their side of the quarrel; though, perhaps, his regard for whatever had the air of antiquity, and was in the established order of things, might have aided in the matter. It happened that the new town was destitute of water, while in the old one there was a large excess: and so the inhabitants of the former were petitioning for the privilege of making a conduit by means of which their necessity might be met. This petition was now under consideration, and Johnson pretended to be strongly opposed to granting the request. "No, no!" he

To this period also belongs the curious and characteristic anecdote, related by Beauclerk, of the visit of a French lady of quality, the Countess de Boufflers, to Johnson at his lodgings in the Templelane. Madame de Boufflers visited England in the summer of 1763, and being a voracious sight-seer, was taken by Beauclerk to see Johnson, as one of the lions of the metropolis. She was received very cordially, and went away greatly pleased with the conversation of the sage, whom she found in a strangely grotesque dishabille, though he seemed to be not at all disconcerted by her presence.

"When our visit was over," said Beauclerk, "she and I left him, and were got into the Inner Temple-lane, when all at once I heard a noise like thunder. This was occasioned by tion, had taken it into his head that he ought Johnson, who, it seems, upon a little recollecto have done the honors of his literary residence to a foreign lady of quality; and, eager to show himself a man of gallantry, was hurrying down the staircase in violent agitation. He overtook us before we reached the Temple-gate, and brushing in between me and Madame de Boufflers, seized her hand and conducted her to the coach. His dress was a rusty brown morning suit, a pair of old shoes, by way of slippers, a little shriveled wig sticking on the top of his head, and the sleeves of his shirt and the knees of his breeches hanging ioose. A considerable crowd of people gathered round, and were not a little struck by this singular appearance."

Johnson's increasing circle of personal friends was not far from this time enlarged by the accession of one, whose name in English literature is second only to his own. Oliver Goldsmith was the son of a country

his garret in Green Arbor-court for lodgings in the Wine Office-square in Fleetstreet. This joyous event was to be celebrated by a social gathering; and both Percy and Johnson were among the invited guests. However unlike in other particulars, Johnson and Goldsmith were both great slovens, and almost totally regardless of the conventionalities of dress. A bad habit often escapes the notice of its subject till he sees it reproduced in another, when it is viewed in its proper light. An illustration of this was now to be given. When Percy called to take Johnson to Goldsmith's lodgings, he was surprised to find the old russet coat and dingy brown wig replaced by a new suit; and upon his venturing to express his gratification at the transformation, Johnson replied: "I hear that Goldsmith, who is a great sloven, justifies his disregard of

DR. GOLDSMITH.

cleanliness and decency by quoting my practice, and I am desirous this night of showing him a better example." The lesson was not lost.

The acquaintance thus commenced soon ripened into a friendship that proved as lasting as the lives of the parties to it. Goldsmith readily recognized in his new acquaintance the attributes of mind, by virtue of which, either through reverence or fear, he maintained a mastery over all his associates; and being his junior by nearly twenty years, he could, without the loss of self-respect, concede all that would be demanded. Johnson, though often offensively exacting in his social intercourse, would accept the condescensions of his friends in such a manner as to take away the appearance of degradation; and it would seem that he considered such compliances

indications of real excellence, demanding his unfeigned respect for those who rendered them. He also discovered in Goldsmith such excellences, both as a man and an author, that he conceived for him a genuine and hearty respect. The two authors, therefore, "took to each other," to adopt Johnson's own phrase, with mutual goodwill; and though Johnson would sometimes vent his satires on poor Goldy" with great freedom, and though they frequently quarreled between themselves, yet they mutually esteemed each other very highly, and their friendship was never for a day interrupted.

Not very long after the commencement of this acquaintance, occurred a highly amusing and characteristic affair, which is the more interesting from its connection with a curious passage in literary history. It was some time during the year 1763, that one morning Johnson received a hasty message from Goldsmith, saying that he was in great distress; and because he could not go to Johnson, he entreated that Johnson would come to him. The cause of the difficulty was readily guessed, and a guinea returned by the messenger; and as soon as he was dressed, the Ajax of literature followed in person. He found Goldsmith in a great rage at his landlady, who had caused him to be arrested for arrears of rent. The guinea had been changed, for a partly exhausted bottle of madeira was standing on the table; and while he paced his chamber in great fury, the bailiff and his landlady watched at the door.

After ascertaining the nature of the case, Johnson inquired of his friend as to any available property he might have on hand ready to be disposed of. Goldsmith produced a manuscript volume, which, he said, was complete and ready to be published. Johnson glanced over it hastily, and then going out took it to Newberry, who purchased it for sixty pounds, out of which sum the demanded rent was paid, and the distressed author again set at liberty. This is the early history of the world-read Vicar of Wakefield. The manuscript lay in the desk of the bookseller for more than a year; when, "The Traveler" having been published in the mean time, and greatly increased the reputation of its author, Newberry ventured to issue the unpretending fiction under its auspices; and when once that had seen the light, it needed no further patronage.

As an evidence that Johnson's lesson on dress and cleanliness was not lost upon Goldsmith, the following affair is related, which is here introduced as a part of the subject under notice, though slightly anticipating its chronological order :-The distinguishing features of Goldsmith's character were self-esteem in excess, and a deficiency of self-confidence; and out of these arose a most absurd and ridiculous vanity when, therefore, his genius had brought him into good society, he was emulous of praise, and aspired to shine as a man of fashion. His unpaid tailor's bills, discovered after his death, forcibly evinced the foibles of the man in this particular.

Boswell, upon his return from his foreign travels, in 1769, gave a dinner party to Johnson and the Johnsonian circle of London wits. The occasion was one of no ordinary interest with Goldsmith, and he accordingly prepared to shine in the bright constellation. He therefore ordered from his tailor "a half-dress suit VOL. III, No. 3.-Q

of ratteen, lined with satin; a pair of silk-stocking breeches, and a bloomcolored coat." In these he incased his chubby and awkward limbs and shapeless little body; while above them beamed his coarse and inexpressive face, indented by small-pox, and smirking with selfcomplacency. Arrived at the ante-room, while dinner waited, Goldsmith strutted up and down the room with evident selfsatisfaction. His grotesque appearance attracted the attention of Garrick, and elicited from him an ironical compliment,