o Mr. Thrale to say, that a more ingenuous frame of mind no man
possessed. His education at Oxford gave him the habits of a gentleman;
his amiable temper recommended his conversation; and the goodness of his
heart made him a sincere friend. That he was the patron of Johnson, is
an honour to his memory.

In petty disputes with contemporary writers, or the wits of the age,
Johnson was seldom entangled. A single incident of that kind may not be
unworthy of notice, since it happened with a man of great celebrity in
his time. A number of friends dined with Garrick on a Christmas day.
Foote was then in Ireland. It was said, at table, that the modern
Aristophanes (so Foote was called) had been horsewhipped by a Dublin
apothecary, for mimicking him on the stage. "I wonder," said Garrick,
"that any man should show so much resentment to Foote; he has a patent
for such liberties; nobody ever thought it worth his while to quarrel
with him in London." "I am glad," said Johnson, "to find that the man is
rising in the world." The expression was afterwards repeated to Foote,
who, in return, gave out, that he would produce the Caliban of
literature on the stage. Being informed of this design, Johnson sent
word to Foote: "that the theatre being intended for the reformation of
vice, he would step from the boxes on the stage, and correct him before
the audience." Foote knew the intrepidity of his antagonist, and
abandoned the design. No ill will ensued. Johnson used to say: "that for
broad-faced mirth, Foote had not his equal."

Dr. Johnson's fame excited the curiosity of the king. His majesty
expressed a desire to see a man of whom extraordinary things were said.
Accordingly, the librarian at Buckingham house invited Johnson to see
that elegant collection of books, at the same time giving a hint of what
was intended. His majesty entered the room, and, among other things,
asked the author, "if he meant to give the world any more of his
compositions." Johnson answered: "that he thought he had written
enough." "And I should think so too," replied his majesty, "if you had
not written so well."

Though Johnson thought he had written enough, his genius, even in spite
of bodily sluggishness, could not lie still. In 1770 we find him
entering the lists, as a political writer. The flame of discord that
blazed throughout the nation, on the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, and the
final determination of the house of commons, that Mr. Luttrell was duly
ele