a chalk-pit, and then came up again, looking as
_white_!' When the truth was, all their lives were saved by the
greatest providence ever exerted in favour of three human creatures:
and the part Mr. Thrale took from desperation was the likeliest thing
in the world to produce broken limbs and death."

The drawbacks on his gratification and on that of his fellow
travellers were his physical defects, and his utter insensibility to
the beauty of nature, as well as to the fine arts, in so far as they
were addressed to the senses of sight and hearing. "He delighted,"
says Mrs. Thrale, "no more in music than painting; he was almost as
deaf as he was blind; travelling with Dr. Johnson was, for these
reasons, tiresome enough. Mr. Thrale loved prospects, and was
mortified that his friend could not enjoy the sight of those
different dispositions of wood and water, hill and valley, that
travelling through England and France affords a man. But when he
wished to point them out to his companion: 'Never heed such
nonsense,' would be the reply: 'a blade of grass is always a blade of
grass, whether in one country or another: let us, if we _do_ talk,
talk about something; men and women are my subjects of inquiry; let
us see how these differ from those we have left behind."

It is no small deduction from our admiration of Johnson, and no
trifling enhancement of his friends' kindness in tolerating his
eccentricities, that he seldom made allowance for his own palpable
and undeniable deficiencies. As well might a blind man deny the
existence of colours, as a purblind man assert that there was no
charm in a prospect, or in a Claude or Titian, because he could see
none. Once, by way of pleasing Reynolds, he pretended to lament that
the great painter's genius was not exerted on stuff more durable than
canvas, and suggested copper. Sir Joshua urged the difficulty of
procuring plates large enough for historical subjects. "What foppish
obstacles are these!" exclaimed Johnson. "Here is Thrale has a
thousand ton of copper: you may paint it all round if you will, I
suppose; it will serve him to brew in afterwards. Will it not, Sir?"
(to Thrale, who sate by.)

He always "civilised" to Dr. Burney, who has supplied the following
anecdote:

"After having talked slightingly of music, he was observed to listen
very attentively while Miss Thrale played on the harpsichord; and
with eagerness he called to her, 'Why don't you dash away like
Burney?' Dr. Bu