“People” (he remarked) “may be taken in once, who imagine that an author is greater in private life than other men.  Uncommon parts require uncommon opportunities for their exertion.”

“In barbarous society, superiority of parts is of real consequence.  Great strength or great wisdom is of much value to an individual.  But in more polished times there are people to do everything for money; and then there are a number of other superiorities, such as those of birth and fortune and rank, that dissipate men’s attention and leave no extraordinary share of respect for personal and intellectual superiority.  This is wisely ordered by Providence, to preserve some equality among mankind.”

“Sir, this book” (’The Elements of Criticism,’ which he had taken up) “is a pretty essay, and deserves to be held in some estimation, though much of it is chimerical.”

Speaking of one who with more than ordinary boldness attacked public measures and the royal family, he said, “I think he is safe from the law, but he is an abusive scoundrel; and instead of applying to my Lord Chief Justice to punish him, I would send half a dozen footmen and have him well ducked.”

“The notion of liberty amuses the people of England, and helps to keep off the taedium vitae.  When a butcher tells you that ’his heart bleeds for his country,’ he has in fact no uneasy feeling.”

“Sheridan will not succeed at Bath with his oratory.  Ridicule has gone down before him, and I doubt Derrick is his enemy.”

“Derrick may do very well, as long as he can outrun his character; but the moment his character gets up with him, it is all over.”

It is, however, but just to record that some years afterwards, when I reminded him of this sarcasm, he said, “Well, but Derrick has now got a character that he need not run away from.”

I was highly pleased with the extraordinary vigor of his conversation, and regretted that I was drawn away from it by an engagement at another place.  I had for a part of the evening been left alone with him, and had ventured to make an observation now and then, which he received very civilly; so that I was satisfied that though there was a roughness in his manner, there was no ill-nature in his disposition.  Davies followed me to the door, and when I complained to him a little of the hard blows which the great man had given me, he kindly took upon him to console me by saying, “Don’t be uneasy.  I can see he likes you very well.”

A few days afterwards I called on Davies, and asked him if he thought I might take the liberty of waiting on Mr. Johnson at his chambers in the Temple.  He said I certainly might, and that Mr. Johnson would take it as a compliment.  So on Tuesday the 24th of May, after having been enlivened by the witty sallies of Messieurs Thornton, Wilkes, Churchill, and Lloyd, with whom I had passed the morning, I boldly repaired to Johnson.  His chambers were on the first floor