s doubtless not very suitable to the character of a
philosopher, who should be distinguished by self-command. But it must
be owned, that Johnson, though he could be rigidly ABSTEMIOUS, was not
a TEMPERATE man either in eating or drinking. He could refrain, but
he could not use moderately. He told me, that he had fasted two days
without inconvenience, and that he had never been hungry but once.
They who beheld with wonder how much he eat upon all occasions when his
dinner was to his taste, could not easily conceive what he must have
meant by hunger; and not only was he remarkable for the extraordinary
quantity which he eat, but he was, or affected to be, a man of very nice
discernment in the science of cookery. He used to descant critically on
the dishes which had been at table where he had dined or supped, and to
recollect very minutely what he had liked. I remember, when he was in
Scotland, his praising 'Gordon's palates,' (a dish of palates at the
Honourable Alexander Gordon's) with a warmth of expression which
might have done honour to more important subjects. 'As for Maclaurin's
imitation of a MADE DISH, it was a wretched attempt.' He about the same
time was so much displeased with the performances of a nobleman's French
cook, that he exclaimed with vehemence, 'I'd throw such a rascal into
the river, and he then proceeded to alarm a lady at whose house he was
to sup, by the following manifesto of his skill: 'I, Madam, who live at
a variety of good tables, am a much better judge of cookery, than any
person who has a very tolerable cook, but lives much at home; for his
palate is gradually adapted to the taste of his cook; whereas, Madam, in
trying by a wider range, I can more exquisitely judge.' When invited
to dine, even with an intimate friend, he was not pleased if something
better than a plain dinner was not prepared for him. I have heard him
say on such an occasion, 'This was a good dinner enough, to be sure; but
it was not a dinner to ASK a man to.' On the other hand, he was wont to
express, with great glee, his satisfaction when he had been entertained
quite to his mind. One day when we had dined with his neighbour and
landlord in Bolt-court, Mr. Allen, the printer, whose old housekeeper
had studied his taste in every thing, he pronounced this eulogy: 'Sir,
we could not have had a better dinner had there been a Synod of Cooks.'

* At Colchester.--ED.

While we were left by ourselves, after the Dutchman had