Another evening Dr. Goldsmith and I called on him, with the hope of prevailing on him to sup with us at the Mitre.  We found him indisposed, and resolved not to go abroad.  ’Come then, (said Goldsmith,) we will not go to the Mitre to-night, since we cannot have the big man with us.’  Johnson then called for a bottle of port, of which Goldsmith and I partook, while our friend, now a water-drinker, sat by us.  Goldsmith.  ’I think, Mr. Johnson, you don’t go near the theatres now.  You give yourself no more concern about a new play, than if you had never had any thing to do with the stage.’  Johnson.  ’Why, Sir, our tastes greatly alter.  The lad does not care for the child’s rattle, and the old man does not care for the young man’s whore.’  Goldsmith.  ’Nay, Sir, but your Muse was not a whore.’  Johnson.  ’Sir, I do not think she was.  But as we advance in the journey of life, we drop some of the things which have pleased us; whether it be that we are fatigued and don’t choose to carry so many things any farther, or that we find other things which we like better.’  Boswell.  ’But, Sir, why don’t you give us something in some other way?’ Goldsmith.  ‘Ay, Sir, we have a claim upon you.’  Johnson.  No, Sir, I am not obliged to do any more.  No man is obliged to do as much as he can do.  A man is to have part of his life to himself.  If a soldier has fought a good many campaigns, he is not to be blamed if he retires to ease and tranquillity.  A physician, who has practised long in a great city, may be excused if he retires to a small town, and takes less practice.  Now, Sir, the good I can do by my conversation bears the same proportion to the good I can do by my writings, that the practice of a physician, retired to a small town, does to his practice in a great city.’  Boswell.  ’But I wonder, Sir, you have not more pleasure in writing than in not writing.’  Johnson.  ‘Sir, you may wonder.’

He talked of making verses, and observed, ’The great difficulty is to know when you have made good ones.  When composing, I have generally had them in my mind, perhaps fifty at a time, walking up and down in my room; and then I have written them down, and often, from laziness, have written only half lines.  I have written a hundred lines in a day.  I remember I wrote a hundred lines of The Vanity of Human Wishes in a day.  Doctor, (turning to Goldsmith,) I am not quite idle; I made one line t’other day; but I made no more.’  Goldsmith.  ’Let us hear it; we’ll put a bad one to it.’  Johnson.  ‘No, Sir, I have forgot it.’

’TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE

’Dear sir,—­What your friends have done, that from your departure till now nothing has been heard of you, none of us are able to inform the rest; but as we are all neglected alike, no one thinks himself entitled to the privilege of complaint.