INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. 151 'You do not think, then, Dr. Johnson, that there was much argument in the case?' Johnson said, he did not think there was. 'Why, truly,' said the King, 'when once it comes to calling names, argument is pretty well at an end.' “His Majesty then asked him what he thought of Lord Lyttelton's History, which was then just published. Johnson said, he thought his style pretty good, but that he had blamed Henry the Second rather too much. 'Why,' said the King, 'they seldom do these things by halves.' 'No, Sir,' answered Johnson, not to kings.' But fearing to be misunderstood, he proceeded to explain himself; and immediately subjoined, 'That for those who spoke worse of kings than they deserved, he could find no excuse; but that he could more easily conceive how some might speak better of them than they deserved, without any ill intention; for, as kings had much in their power to give, those who were favoured by them would frequently, from gratitude, exaggerate their praises; and as this proceeded from a good motive, it was certainly excusable, as far as error could be excusable.' "The King then asked him what he thought of Dr. Hill. Johnson answered, that he was an ingenious man, but had no veracity; and immediately mentioned, as an instance of it, an assertion of that writer, that he had seen objects magnified to a much greater degree by using three or four microscopes at a time, that by using one. 'Now,' added Johnson, every one acquainted with microscopes knows, that the more of them he looks through, the less the object will appear.' 'Why,' replied the King, 'this is not only telling an untruth, but telling it clumsily; for, if that be the case, every one who can look through a microscope will be able to detect him.' "I now,' said Johnson to his friends, when relating what had passed, 'began to consider that I was depreciating this man in the estimation of his sovereign, and thought it was time for me to say something that might be more favourable.' He added, therefore, that Dr. Hill was, notwithstanding, a very curious observer; and if he would have been contented to tell the world no more than he knew, he might have been a very considerable man, and needed not to have recourse to such mean expedients to raise his reputation. 152 INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. "His Majesty expressed a desire to have the literary biography of this country ably executed, and proposed to Dr. Johnson to undertake it. Johnson signified his readiness to comply with his Majesty's wishes. During the whole of this interview Johnson talked to his Majesty with profound respect; but still in his firm, manly manner, with a sonorous voice, and never in that subdued tone which is commonly used at the levee and in the drawing-room. After the King withdrew, Johnson showed himself highly pleased with his Majesty's conversation and gracious behaviour. He said to Mr. Barnard, Sir, they may talk of the King as they will, but he is the finest gentleman I have ever seen.' And he afterwards observed to Mr. Langton, 'Sir, his manners are those of as fine a gentleman as we may suppose Louis the Fourteenth or Charles the Second.'” Retailing the incidents of this memorable interview at Sir Joshua Reynolds's one evening, Johnson observed, "I found his Majesty wished I should talk, and I made it my business to talk. I find it does a man good to be talked to by his sovereign: a man cannot be in a passion." After the Doctor had finished his relation, Goldsmith started up and exclaimed: "Well, you acquitted yourself in this conversation better than I should have done; for I should have bowed and stammered through the whole of it." Yes; Johnson did acquit himself well, and in critical circumstances he proved himself here, as at all the testing periods of his life, in feeling a gentleman, and in act a man. "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? HE SHALL STAND BEFORE KINGS." Yet this is the same Samuel Johnson whom we saw, not so very many years ago, roaming the London streets at midnight, in company with poor Savage, because the happy sheltered world could find no room for him within its doors. "THUS THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME BRINGS IN HIS REVENGES. AT LICHFIELD. 153 CHAPTER XVII. AT LICHFIELD-A TENDER ADIEU-CONVERSATIONS-DR. PERCY SNUBBED. (1767-1768.) DURING the year 1767, our Author spent three months at his native Lichfield. 66 TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT MR. ROTHWELL'S, PERFUMER, IN NEW BOND-STREET, LONDON. "DEAR SIR, 66 'Lichfield, October 10, 1767. "That you have been all summer in London is one more reason for which I regret my long stay in the country. I hope that you will not leave the town before my return. We have here only the chance of vacancies in the passing carriages, and I have bespoken one that may, if it happens, bring me to town on the 14th of this month; but this is not certain. "It will be a favour if you communicate this to Mrs. Williams: I long to see all my friends. “I am, dear sir, "Your most humble servant, "SAM. JOHNSON." He does not get to town on the fourteenth; for on the seventeenth he has to act a part in a scene so holy and so pure that one feels as if a special religious service were necessary to prepare us for beholding it aright. Sunday, Oct. 18, 1767.-Yesterday, Oct. 17, at about ten in the morning, I took my leave for ever of my dear old friend, Catherine Chambers, who came to live with my mother about 1724, and has been but little parted from us since. She buried 154 A TENDER ADIEU. my father, my brother, and my mother. She is now fifty-eight years old. "I desired all to withdraw, then told her that we were to part for ever; that as Christians, we should part with prayer; and that I would, if she was willing, say a short prayer beside her. She expressed great desire to hear me; and held up her poor hands, as she lay in bed, with great fervour, while I prayed, kneeling by her, nearly in the following words :— "Almighty and most merciful Father, whose loving-kindness is over all thy works, behold, visit, and relieve this thy servant, who is grieved with sickness. Grant that the sense of her weakness may add strength to her faith, and seriousness to her repentance. And grant that, by the help of thy Holy Spirit, after the pains and labours of this short life, we may all obtain everlasting happiness, through Jesus Christ our Lord, for whose sake hear our prayers. Amen.' "I then kissed her. She told me that to part was the greatest pain she had ever felt, and that she hoped we should meet again in a better place. I expressed, with swelled eyes, and great emotion of tenderness, the same hopes. We kissed and parted. I humbly hope to meet again, and to part no more." How beautiful is that farewell, in spite of all its grief! "Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought." There are no big words there, no antithetically turned sentences, no carefully rounded periods, no studiously elaborated thoughts: nothing but simple, child-like feeling welling up out of the inner springs of a noble nature, and flowing just as it will. After looking at a scene like that we may well ask, where is the rough part of Samuel Johnson? Where did the bearish element in him lie ? The Earl of Eglintoune once expressed his regret that Johnson had not been educated with more refinement, and lived more in polished society. "No, no, my lord," said Signor Baretti, "do with him what you would he would always have been a bear.” "True," answered the Earl, with a smile, "but he would have been a dancing bear." That was very witty, and very funny, perhaps ; but all these clever little jokes are shrivelled into nothingness AN ACT OF CHARITY. 155 before the grand deliverance of Oliver Goldsmith, which sprang from that simple and sincere heart to which alone it is given to see the pure and the good. "Johnson," said he, "has a roughness in his manner, but no man alive has a more tender heart. He has nothing of the bear but his skin." And as we stand by that bedside, and see that solemn parting, we feel that we have got far below the skin, right into the heart of the man-his inmost heart -where the gentleman dwells. It is a scene to say grace over. Immediately on his return to London we find him engaged in one of his many good deeds, the interesting details of which are contained in a letter to Mr. William Drummond, bookseller, Edinburgh, from which we extract the following: “I must take the liberty of engaging you in an office of charity. Mrs. Heely, the wife of Mr. Heely, who had lately some office in your theatre, is my near relation, and now in great distress. They wrote me word of their situation some time ago, to which I returned them an answer which raised hopes of more than it is proper for me to give them. Their representation of their affairs I have discovered to be such as cannot be trusted; and at this distance, though their case requires haste, I know not how to act. She, or her daughters, may be heard of at Canongate Head. must beg, Sir, that you will inquire after them, and let me know what is to be done. I am willing to go to ten pounds, and will transmit you such a sum, if, upon examination, you find it likely to be of use. If they are in immediate want advance them what you think proper. What I could do I would do for the woman, having no great reason to pay much regard to Heely himself. "Whatever you advance within ten pounds shall be immediately returned to you, or paid as you shall order. I trust wholly to your judgment." Little records of quiet charities like this lift the life of Samuel Johnson clear out of the region of mere literary biography into that realm of which the other must acknowledge itself only a small province-the Story of a Man's doings in a sorrowing and struggling world. The notices have to be gathered from his Diaries, which were written for his own eye alone, and purely for |