Sir Joshua once observed to him, that he had talked above the capacity of some people with whom they had been in company together.  ’No matter, Sir, (said Johnson); they consider it as a compliment to be talked to, as if they were wiser than they are.  So true is this, Sir, that Baxter made it a rule in every sermon that he preached, to say something that was above the capacity of his audience[580].’

Johnson’s dexterity in retort, when he seemed to be driven to an extremity by his adversary, was very remarkable.  Of his power in this respect, our common friend, Mr. Windham, of Norfolk, has been pleased to furnish me with an eminent instance.  However unfavourable to Scotland, he uniformly gave liberal praise to George Buchanan[581], as a writer.  In a conversation concerning the literary merits of the two countries, in which Buchanan was introduced, a Scotchman, imagining that on this ground he should have an undoubted triumph over him, exclaimed, ’Ah, Dr. Johnson, what would you have said of Buchanan, had he been an Englishman?’ ’Why, Sir, (said Johnson, after a little pause,) I should not have said of Buchanan, had he been an Englishman, what I will now say of him as a Scotchman,—­that he was the only man of genius his country ever produced.’

And this brings to my recollection another instance of the same nature.  I once reminded him that when Dr. Adam Smith was expatiating on the beauty of Glasgow, he had cut him short by saying, ’Pray, Sir, have you ever seen Brentford?’ and I took the liberty to add, ’My dear Sir, surely that was shocking.’  ’Why, then, Sir, (he replied,) YOU have never seen Brentford.’

Though his usual phrase for conversation was talk[582], yet he made a distinction; for when he once told me that he dined the day before at a friend’s house, with ‘a very pretty company;’ and I asked him if there was good conversation, he answered, ’No, Sir; we had talk enough, but no conversation; there was nothing discussed.’

Talking of the success of the Scotch in London, he imputed it In a considerable degree to their spirit of nationality.  ’You know, Sir, (said he,) that no Scotchman publishes a book, or has a play brought upon the stage, but there are five hundred people ready to applaud him.[583]’

He gave much praise to his friend, Dr. Burney’s elegant and entertaining travels[584], and told Mr. Seward that he had them in his eye, when writing his Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland.

Such was his sensibility, and so much was he affected by pathetick poetry, that, when he was reading Dr. Beattie’s Hermit in my presence, it brought tears into his eyes[585].

He disapproved much of mingling real facts with fiction.  On this account he censured a book entitled Love and Madness[586].