ith supped together at the Mitre. I was before this
time pretty well acquainted with Goldsmith, who was one of the brightest
ornaments of the Johnsonian school. Goldsmith's respectful attachment to
Johnson was then at its height; for his own literary reputation had not
yet distinguished him so much as to excite a vain desire of competition
with his great Master. He had increased my admiration of the goodness
of Johnson's heart, by incidental remarks in the course of conversation,
such as, when I mentioned Mr. Levet, whom he entertained under his roof,
'He is poor and honest, which is recommendation enough to Johnson;' and
when I wondered that he was very kind to a man of whom I had heard a
very bad character, 'He is now become miserable; and that insures the
protection of Johnson.'

He talked very contemptuously of Churchill's poetry, observing, that
'it had a temporary currency, only from its audacity of abuse, and
being filled with living names, and that it would sink into oblivion.'
I ventured to hint that he was not quite a fair judge, as Churchill had
attacked him violently. JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, I am a very fair judge. He
did not attack me violently till he found I did not like his poetry;
and his attack on me shall not prevent me from continuing to say what
I think of him, from an apprehension that it may be ascribed to
resentment. No, Sir, I called the fellow a blockhead at first, and I
will call him a blockhead still. However, I will acknowledge that I
have a better opinion of him now, than I once had; for he has shewn more
fertility than I expected. To be sure, he is a tree that cannot produce
good fruit: he only bears crabs. But, Sir, a tree that produces a great
many crabs is better than a tree which produces only a few.'

Let me here apologize for the imperfect manner in which I am obliged to
exhibit Johnson's conversation at this period. In the early part of my
acquaintance with him, I was so wrapt in admiration of his extraordinary
colloquial talents, and so little accustomed to his peculiar mode of
expression, that I found it extremely difficult to recollect and record
his conversation with its genuine vigour and vivacity. In progress
of time, when my mind was, as it were, strongly impregnated with the
Johnsonian oether, I could, with much more facility and exactness, carry
in my memory and commit to paper the exuberant variety of his wisdom and
wit.

At this time MISS Williams, as she was then called, t