t a first
interview was remarkable. He said once to Mr. Langton, 'I think I am
like Squire Richard in The Journey to London, "I'm never strange in a
strange place."' He was truly SOCIAL. He strongly censured what is
much too common in England among persons of condition,--maintaining
an absolute silence, when unknown to each other; as for instance, when
occasionally brought together in a room before the master or mistress
of the house has appeared. 'Sir, that is being so uncivilised as not to
understand the common rights of humanity.'

At the inn where we stopped he was exceedingly dissatisfied with some
roast mutton which we had for dinner. The ladies I saw wondered to see
the great philosopher, whose wisdom and wit they had been admiring all
the way, get into ill-humour from such a cause. He scolded the waiter,
saying, 'It is as bad as bad can be: it is ill-fed, ill-killed,
ill-kept, and ill-drest.'

He bore the journey very well, and seemed to feel himself elevated as
he approached Oxford, that magnificent and venerable seat of learning,
Orthodoxy, and Toryism. Frank came in the heavy coach, in readiness to
attend him; and we were received with the most polite hospitality at the
house of his old friend Dr. Adams, Master of Pembroke College, who had
given us a kind invitation. Before we were set down, I communicated to
Johnson, my having engaged to return to London directly, for the reason
I have mentioned, but that I would hasten back to him again. He was
pleased that I had made this journey merely to keep him company. He was
easy and placid with Dr. Adams, Mrs. and Miss Adams, and Mrs. Kennicot,
widow of the learned Hebraean, who was here on a visit. He soon
dispatched the inquiries which were made about his illness and recovery,
by a short and distinct narrative; and then assuming a gay air, repeated
from Swift,--

'Nor think on our approaching ills,
And talk of spectacles and pills.'

I fulfilled my intention by going to London, and returned to Oxford on
Wednesday the 9th of June, when I was happy to find myself again in the
same agreeable circle at Pembroke College, with the comfortable prospect
of making some stay. Johnson welcomed my return with more than ordinary
glee.

Next morning at breakfast, he pointed out a passage in Savage's
Wanderer, saying, 'These are fine verses.' 'If (said he,) I had written
with hostility of Warburton in my Shakspeare, I should have quoted this
couplet:--

"