Mrs. Piozzi prefaces some instances of Johnson’s rudeness and harshness by the remark, that “he did not hate the persons he treated with roughness, or despise them whom he drove from him by apparent scorn.  He really loved and respected many whom he would not suffer to love him.”  Boswell echoes the remark, multiplies the instances, and then accuses her of misrepresenting their friend.  After mentioning a discourteous reply to Robertson the historian, which was subsequently confirmed by Boswell, she proceeds to show that Johnson was no gentler to herself or those for whom he had the greatest regard.  “When I one day lamented the loss of a first cousin, killed in America, ’Prithee, my dear (said he), have done with canting:  how would the world be worse for it, I may ask, if all your relations were at once spitted like larks and roasted for Presto’s supper?’—­Presto was the dog that lay under the table.”  To this Boswell opposes the version given by Baretti: 

“Mrs. Thrale, while supping very heartily upon larks, laid down her knife and fork, and abruptly exclaimed, ’O, my dear Johnson! do you know what has happened?  The last letters from abroad have brought us an account that our poor cousin’s head was taken off by a cannon-ball.’  Johnson, who was shocked both at the fact and her light unfeeling manner of mentioning it, replied, ’Madam, it would give you very little concern if all your relations were spitted like those larks, and dressed for Presto’s supper.”

This version, assuming its truth, aggravates the personal rudeness of the speech.  But her marginal notes on the passage are:  “Boswell appealing to Baretti for a testimony of the truth is comical enough!  I never addressed him (Johnson) so familiarly in my life.  I never did eat any supper, and there were no larks to eat.”

“Upon mentioning this story to my friend Mr. Wilkes,” adds Boswell, “he pleasantly matched it with the following sentimental anecdote.  He was invited by a young man of fashion at Paris to sup with him and a lady who had been for some time his mistress, but with whom he was going to part.  He said to Mr. Wilkes that he really felt very much for her, she was in such distress, and that he meant to make her a present of 200 louis d’ors.  Mr. Wilkes observed the behaviour of Mademoiselle, who sighed indeed very piteously, and assumed every pathetic air of grief, but ate no less than three French pigeons, which are as large as English partridges, besides other things.  Mr. Wilkes whispered the gentleman, ’We often say in England, “Excessive sorrow is exceeding dry,” but I never heard “Excessive sorrow is exceeding hungry.”  Perhaps one hundred will do.  The gentleman took the hint.”  Mrs. Piozzi’s marginal ebullition is:  “Very like my hearty supper of larks, who never eat supper at all, nor was ever a hot dish seen on the table after dinner at Streatham Park.”