He had, however, all his life habituated himself to consider conversation as a trial of intellectual vigour and skill; and to this may perhaps be ascribed that unexampled richness and brilliancy which appeared in his own. As a proof at once of his eagerness for colloquial distinction, and his high notion of this eminent friend, he once addressed him thus: "We now have been several hours together, and you have said but one thing for which I envied you."

He disliked much all speculative desponding considerations, which tended to discourage men from diligence and exertion. He was in this like Dr. Shaw, the great traveller, who used to say, "I hate a cui bono man." Upon being asked by a friend what he should think of a man who was

apt to say non est tanti? "That he's a stupid fellow, Sir (answered Johnson). What would these tanti men be doing the while?" When one, in a low-spirited fit, was talking to him with indifference of the pursuits which generally engage us in a course of action, and inquiring a reason for taking so much trouble; "Sir, (said he in an animated tone) it is driving on the system of life."

Of his fellow collegian Mr. Edwards, with whom he had accidentally met after many years separation, he said, "Here is a man who has passed through life without experience: yet I

would rather have him with me than a more sensible man who will not talk readily. This man is always willing to say what he has to say." Yet (says Mr. B.) Dr. J. had himself by no means that willingness which he praised so much and so justly; for who has not felt the painful effect of the dreary void, when there is a total silence in a company for any length of time; or, which is as bad, or perhaps worse, when the conversation is with difficulty kept up by a perpetual effort?

He related, that he had once in a dream a contest of wit with some other person, and that he was very much mortified by imagining that his opponent had the better of him. "Now (said he) one may mark here the effect of sleep in weakening the power of reflection; for had not my judgment failed me, I should have seen, that the wit of this supposed antagonist, by whose superiority I felt myself depressed, was as much furnished by me, as that which I thought I had been uttering in my own character."

Of a certain player he remarked, that his conversation usually threatened and announced more than it performed; that he fed you with a continual renovation of hope, to end in a constant succession of disappointment.

. When exasperated by contradiction, he was apt to treat his opponents with too much acrimony; as, "Sir, you don't see your way through

that question:"" Sir, you talk the language of ignorance." On its being observed to him, that a certain gentleman had remained silent the whole evening in the midst of a very brilliant and learned society, "Sir (said he), the conversation overflowed and drowned him."

His philosophy, though austere and solemn, was by no means morose and cynical, and never blunted the laudable sensibilities of his character, or exempted him from the influence of the tender passions. Want of tenderness, he always alledged, was want of parts, and was no less a proof of stupidity than depravity.

Of Goldsmith he said, "He is so much afraid of being unnoticed, that he often talks merely lest you should forget that he is in company."B." B. "Yes, he stands forward."-J. "True, Sir; but if a man is to stand forward, he should wish to do it not in an awkward posture, not in rags, not so as that he shall only be exposed to ridicule.”—B. "For my part, I like very well to hear honest Goldsmith talk away carelessly."-J. "Why yes, Sir; but he should not like to hear himself."

At another time he said, " Goldsmith should not be for ever attempting to shine in conversation: he has not temper for it; he is so much mortified when he fails. A game of jokes is composed partly of skill, partly of chance; a man may be beat at times by one who has not the

tenth part of his wit. Now Goldsmith's putting himself against another, is like a man laying a hundred to one, who cannot spare the hundred. It is not worth a man's while. A man should not lay a hundred to one, unless he can easily spare it, though he has a hundred chances for him; he can get but a guinea, and he may lose a hundred. Goldsmith is in this state. When he contends, if he gets the better, it is a very little addition to a man of his literary reputation; if he does not get the better, he is miserably vexed. The misfortune of Goldsmith in conversation is this: he goes on without knowing how he is to get off. His genius is great, but his knowledge is small. As they say of a generous man, it is a pity he is not rich; we may say of Goldsmish, it is a pity he is not knowing. He would not keep his knowledge to himself."

Goldsmith said once to Dr. Johnson, that he wished for some additional members to the LITERARY CLUB, to give it an agreeable variety;

for (said he), there can now be nothing new among us: we have travelled over one another's minds." Johnson seemed a little angry, and said, "Sir, you have not travelled over my mind, I promise you." Sir Joshua Reynolds, however, thought Goldsmith right; observing that " when people have lived a great deal together, they know what each of them will say on every sub

ject. A new understanding, therefore, is desirable; because though it may only furnish the same sense upon a question which would have been furnished by those with whom we are accustomed to live, yet this sense will have a different colouring; and colouring is of much effect in every thing else as well as in painting."

Mr. Berrenger visited Johnson one day, and they talked of an evening society for conversation at a house in town, of which (says Mr. B.) we were all members, but of which Johnson said, "It will never do, Sir. There is nothing served about there, neither tea, nor coffee, nor lemonade, nor any thing whatever; and depend upon it, Sir, a man does not like to go to a place from whence he comes out exactly as he went in." Mr. B. endeavoured, for argument's sake, to maintain, that men of learning and talents might have very good intellectual society, without the aid of any little gratifications of the senses. Berrenger joined, with Johnson, and said, that without these any meeting would be dull and insipid. He would therefore have all the slight refreshments; nay, it would not be amiss to have some cold meat and a bottle of wine upon a side-board. "Sir (said Johnson, with an air of triumph), Mr. Berrenger knows the world. Every body loves to have good things furnished to them without any trouble. I told Mrs. Thrale once, that as she did