that he could be at all disconcerted by any company,
and he, therefore, resolutely set himself to behave quite as an easy
man of the world, who could adapt himself at once to the disposition and
manners of those whom he might chance to meet.

The cheering sound of 'Dinner is upon the table,' dissolved his reverie,
and we ALL sat down without any symptom of ill humour. There were
present, beside Mr. Wilkes, and Mr. Arthur Lee, who was an old companion
of mine when he studied physick at Edinburgh, Mr. (now Sir John) Miller,
Dr. Lettsom, and Mr. Slater the druggist. Mr. Wilkes placed himself
next to Dr. Johnson, and behaved to him with so much attention and
politeness, that he gained upon him insensibly. No man eat more heartily
than Johnson, or loved better what was nice and delicate. Mr. Wilkes was
very assiduous in helping him to some fine veal. 'Pray give me leave,
Sir:--It is better here--A little of the brown--Some fat, Sir--A little
of the stuffing--Some gravy--Let me have the pleasure of giving you some
butter--Allow me to recommend a squeeze of this orange;--or the lemon,
perhaps, may have more zest.'--'Sir, Sir, I am obliged to you, Sir,'
cried Johnson, bowing, and turning his head to him with a look for some
time of 'surly virtue,' but, in a short while, of complacency.

Foote being mentioned, Johnson said, 'He is not a good mimick.' One of
the company added, 'A merry Andrew, a buffoon.' JOHNSON. 'But he has
wit too, and is not deficient in ideas, or in fertility and variety of
imagery, and not empty of reading; he has knowledge enough to fill
up his part. One species of wit he has in an eminent degree, that of
escape. You drive him into a corner with both hands; but he's gone, Sir,
when you think you have got him--like an animal that jumps over your
head. Then he has a great range for wit; he never lets truth stand
between him and a jest, and he is sometimes mighty coarse. Garrick is
under many restraints from which Foote is free.' WILKES. 'Garrick's wit
is more like Lord Chesterfield's.' JOHNSON. 'The first time I was in
company with Foote was at Fitzherbert's. Having no good opinion of the
fellow, I was resolved not to be pleased; and it is very difficult
to please a man against his will. I went on eating my dinner pretty
sullenly, affecting not to mind him. But the dog was so very comical,
that I was obliged to lay down my knife and fork, throw myself back upon
my chair, and fairly laugh it out. No, Sir, he