ciple of only
"tolerating all things that are tolerable," which is no toleration at
all. Goldsmith, unable to get a word in, and overpowered by the voice of
the great Polyphemus, grew at last vexed, and said petulantly to
Johnson, who he thought had interrupted poor Toplady, "Sir, the
gentleman has heard you patiently for an hour; pray allow us now to hear
him." Johnson replied, sternly, "Sir, I was not interrupting the
gentleman; I was only giving him a signal proof of my attention. Sir,
you are impertinent."

Johnson, Boswell, and Langton presently adjourned to the club, where
they found Burke, Garrick, and Goldsmith, the latter still brooding over
his sharp reprimand at Dilly's. Johnson, magnanimous as a lion, at once
said aside to Boswell, "I'll make Goldsmith forgive me." Then calling to
the poet, in a loud voice he said, "Dr. Goldsmith, something passed
to-day where you and I dined; I ask your pardon."

Goldsmith, touched with this, replied, "It must be much from you, sir,
that I take ill"--became himself, "and rattled away as usual." Would
Goldy have rattled away so had he known what Johnson, Boswell, and
Langton had said about him as they walked up Cheapside? Langton had
observed that the poet was not like Addison, who, content with his fame
as a writer, did not attempt a share in conversation; to which Boswell
added, that Goldsmith had a great deal of gold in his cabinet, but, not
content with that, was always pulling out his purse. "Yes, sir," struck
in Johnson, "and that is often an empty purse."

In 1776 we find Boswell skilfully decoying his great idol to dinner at
the Dillys to meet the notorious "Jack Wilkes." To Boswell's horror,
when he went to fetch Johnson, he found him covered with dust, and
buffeting some books, having forgotten all about the dinner party. A
little coaxing, however, soon won him over; Johnson roared out, "Frank,
a clean shirt!" and was soon packed into a hackney coach. On discovering
"a certain gentleman in lace," and he Wilkes the demagogue, Johnson was
at first somewhat disconcerted, but soon recovered himself, and behaved
like a man of the world. Wilkes quickly won the great man.

They soon set to work discussing Foote's wit, and Johnson confessed
that, though resolved not to be pleased, he had once at a dinner-party
been obliged to lay down his knife and fork, throw himself back in his
chair, and fairly laugh it out--"The dog was so comical, sir: he was
irresistible." Wilkes