air and exercise
which he despised were beneficial to the health of other mortals. When
poor Smart, so well known for his wit and misfortunes, was first obliged
to be put in private lodgings, a common friend of both lamented in tender
terms the necessity which had torn so pleasing a companion from their
acquaintance. "A madman must be confined, sir," replies Dr. Johnson.
"But," says the other, "I am now apprehensive for his general health, he
will lose the benefit of exercise." "Exercise!" returns the Doctor, "I
never heard that he used any: he might, for aught I know, walk _to_ the
alehouse; but I believe he was always _carried_ home again."

It was, however, unlucky for those who delighted to echo Johnson's
sentiments, that he would not endure from them to-day what perhaps he had
yesterday, by his own manner of treating the subject, made them fond of
repeating; and I fancy Mr. B--- has not forgotten that though his friend
one evening in a gay humour talked in praise of wine as one of the
blessings permitted by heaven, when used with moderation, to lighten the
load of life, and give men strength to endure it; yet, when in
consequence of such talk he thought fit to make a Bacchanalian discourse
in its favour, Mr. Johnson contradicted him somewhat roughly, as I
remember; and when, to assure himself of conquest, he added these words:
"You must allow me, sir, at least that it produces truth; in vino
veritas, you know, sir." "That," replied Mr. Johnson, "would be useless
to a man who knew he was not a liar when he was sober."

When one talks of giving and taking the lie familiarly, it is impossible
to forbear recollecting the transactions between the editor of "Ossian,"
and the author of the "Journey to the Hebrides." It was most observable
to me, however, that Mr. Johnson never bore his antagonist the slightest
degree of ill-will. He always kept those quarrels which belonged to him
as a writer separate from those which he had to do with as a man; but I
never did hear him say in private one malicious word of a public enemy;
and of Mr. Macpherson I once heard him speak respectfully, though his
reply to the friend who asked him if _any man living_ could have written
such a book, is well known, and has been often repeated--"Yes, sir, many
men, many women, and many children."

I inquired of him myself if this story was authentic, and he said it was.
I made the same inquiry concerning his account of the state of literatu