collecting himself, added, very complacently, "Sir, I have
two very cogent reasons for not printing any list of subscribers;--one,
that I have lost all the names,--the other, that I have spent all the
money."

Johnson could not brook appearing to be worsted in argument, even when
he had taken the wrong side, to shew the force and dexterity of his
talents. When, therefore, he perceived that his opponent gained ground,
he had recourse to some sudden mode of robust sophistry. Once when I was
pressing upon him with visible advantage, he stopped me thus:--'My dear
Boswell, let's have no more of this; you'll make nothing of it. I'd
rather have you whistle a Scotch tune.'

Care, however, must be taken to distinguish between Johnson when he
'talked for victory,' and Johnson when he had no desire but to inform
and illustrate. 'One of Johnson s principal talents (says an eminent
friend of his) was shewn in maintaining the wrong side of an argument,
and in a splendid perversion of the truth. If you could contrive to
have his fair opinion on a subject, and without any bias from personal
prejudice, or from a wish to be victorious in argument, it was wisdom
itself, not only convincing, but overpowering.'

He had, however, all his life habituated himself to consider
conversation as a trial of intellectual vigour and skill; and to this, I
think, we may venture to ascribe that unexampled richness and brilliancy
which appeared in his own. As a proof at once of his eagerness for
colloquial distinction, and his high notion of this eminent friend,
he once addressed him thus:-- '-----, we now have been several hours
together; and you have said but one thing for which I envied you.'

Goldsmith could sometimes take adventurous liberties with him, and
escape unpunished. Beauclerk told me that when Goldsmith talked of a
project for having a third Theatre in London, solely for the exhibition
of new plays, in order to deliver authours from the supposed tyranny
of managers, Johnson treated it slightingly; upon which Goldsmith said,
'Ay, ay, this may be nothing to you, who can now shelter yourself behind
the corner of a pension;' and that Johnson bore this with good-humour.

Johnson had called twice on the Bishop of Killaloe before his Lordship
set out for Ireland, having missed him the first time. He said, 'It
would have hung heavy on my heart if I had not seen him. No man ever
paid more attention to another than he has done to me; and I have