Baretti’s death is thus noticed in “Thraliana,” 8th May, 1789: 

“Baretti is dead.  Poor Baretti!  I am sincerely sorry for him, and as Zanga says, ‘If I lament thee, sure thy worth was great.’  He was a manly character, at worst, and died, as he lived, less like a Christian than a philosopher, refusing all spiritual or corporeal assistance, both which he considered useless to him, and perhaps they were so.  He paid his debts, called in some single acquaintance, told him he was dying, and drove away that Panada conversation which friends think proper to administer at sick-bedsides with becoming steadiness, bid him write his brothers word that he was dead, and gently desired a woman who waited to leave him quite alone.  No interested attendants watching for ill-deserved legacies, no harpy relatives clung round the couch of Baretti.  He died!

  “’And art thou dead? so is my enmity: 
  I war not with the dead.’

“Baretti’s papers—­manuscripts I mean—­have been all burnt by his executors without examination, they tell me.  So great was his character as a mischief-maker, that Vincent and Fendall saw no nearer way to safety than that hasty and compendious one.  Many people think ’tis a good thing for me, but as I never trusted the man, I see little harm he could have done me.”

In the fury of his onslaught Baretti forgot that he was strengthening her case against Johnson, of whom he says:  “His austere reprimand, and unrestrained upbraidings, when face to face with her, always delighted Mr. Thrale and were approved even by her children.  ‘Harry,’ said his father to her son, ’are you listening to what the doctor and mamma are talking about?’ ‘Yes, papa.’  And quoth Mr. Thrale, ’What are they saying?’ ’They are disputing, and mamma has just such a chance with Dr. Johnson as Presto (a little dog) would have were he to fight Dash (a big one).’” He adds that she left the room in a huff to the amusement of the party.  If scenes like this were frequent, no wonder the “yoke” became unendurable.

Baretti was obliged to admit that, when Johnson died, they were not on speaking terms.  His explanation is that Johnson irritated him by an allusion to his being beaten by Omai, the Sandwich Islander, at chess.  Mrs. Piozzi’s marginal note on Omai is:  “When Omai played at chess and at backgammon with Baretti, everybody admired at the savage’s good breeding and at the European’s impatient spirit.”

Amongst her papers was the following sketch of his character, written for “The World” newspaper.

“Mr. Conductor.—­Let not the death of Baretti pass unnoticed by ‘The World,’ seeing that Baretti was a wit if not a scholar:  and had for five-and-thirty years at least lived in a foreign country, whose language he so made himself completely master of, that he could satirise its inhabitants in their own tongue, better than they knew how to defend themselves; and often pleased, without ever