ethought, 'Prologue, spoken before Dr. Samuel Johnson, at
Lichfield, 1776;' would have sounded as well as, 'Prologue, spoken
before the Duke of York, at Oxford,' in Charles the Second's time.
Much might have been said of what Lichfield had done for Shakspeare, by
producing Johnson and Garrick. But I found he was averse to it.

We went and viewed the museum of Mr. Richard Green, apothecary here,
who told me he was proud of being a relation of Dr. Johnson's. It
was, truely, a wonderful collection, both of antiquities and natural
curiosities, and ingenious works of art. He had all the articles
accurately arranged, with their names upon labels, printed at his own
little press; and on the staircase leading to it was a board, with the
names of contributors marked in gold letters. A printed catalogue of
the collection was to be had at a bookseller's. Johnson expressed his
admiration of the activity and diligence and good fortune of Mr. Green,
in getting together, in his situation, so great a variety of things; and
Mr. Green told me that Johnson once said to him, 'Sir, I should as soon
have thought of building a man of war, as of collecting such a museum.'
Mr. Green's obliging alacrity in shewing it was very pleasing.

We drank tea and coffee at Mr. Peter Garrick's, where was Mrs. Aston,
one of the maiden sisters of Mrs. Walmsley, wife of Johnson's first
friend, and sister also of the lady of whom Johnson used to speak with
the warmest admiration, by the name of Molly Aston, who was afterwards
married to Captain Brodie of the navy.

On Sunday, March 24, we breakfasted with Mrs. Cobb, a widow lady, who
lived in an agreeable sequestered place close by the town, called the
Friary, it having been formerly a religious house. She and her niece,
Miss Adey, were great admirers of Dr. Johnson; and he behaved to them
with a kindness and easy pleasantry, such as we see between old and
intimate acquaintance. He accompanied Mrs. Cobb to St. Mary's church,
and I went to the cathedral, where I was very much delighted with the
musick, finding it to be peculiarly solemn and accordant with the words
of the service.

We dined at Mr. Peter Garrick's, who was in a very lively humour, and
verified Johnson's saying, that if he had cultivated gaiety as much as
his brother David, he might have equally excelled in it. He was to-day
quite a London narrator, telling us a variety of anecdotes with that
earnestness and attempt at mimicry which we usually