Next day I dined with Johnson at Mr. Thrale’s.  He attacked Gray, calling him ‘a dull fellow.’  Boswell.  ’I understand he was reserved, and might appear dull in company; but surely he was not dull in poetry.’  Johnson.  ’Sir, he was dull in company, dull in his closet, dull every where.  He was dull in a new way, and that made many people think him great.  He was a mechanical poet.’  He then repeated some ludicrous lines, which have escaped my memory, and said, ‘Is not that great, like his Odes?’ Mrs. Thrale maintained that his Odes were melodious; upon which he exclaimed,

’Weave the warp, and weave the woof;’—­

I added, in a solemn tone,

‘The winding-sheet of Edward’s race.’

‘THERE is a good line.’  ’Ay, (said he,) and the next line is a good one,’ (pronouncing it contemptuously;)

’Give ample verge and room enough.’—­

’No, Sir, there are but two good stanzas in Gray’s poetry, which are in his Elegy in a Country Church-yard.’  He then repeated the stanza,

‘For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey,’ &c.

mistaking one word; for instead of precincts he said confines.  He added, ‘The other stanza I forget.’

A young lady who had married a man much her inferiour in rank being mentioned, a question arose how a woman’s relations should behave to her in such a situation; and, while I recapitulate the debate, and recollect what has since happened, I cannot but be struck in a manner that delicacy forbids me to express.  While I contended that she ought to be treated with an inflexible steadiness of displeasure, Mrs. Thrale was all for mildness and forgiveness, and, according to the vulgar phrase, ‘making the best of a bad bargain.’  Johnson.  Madam, we must distinguish.  Were I a man of rank, I would not let a daughter starve who had made a mean marriage; but having voluntarily degraded herself from the station which she was originally entitled to hold, I would support her only in that which she herself had chosen; and would not put her on a level with my other daughters.  You are to consider, Madam, that it is our duty to maintain the subordination of civilized society; and when there is a gross and shameful deviation from rank, it should be punished so as to deter others from the same perversion.’

On Friday, March 31, I supped with him and some friends at a tavern.  One of the company* attempted, with too much forwardness, to rally him on his late appearance at the theatre; but had reason to repent of his temerity.  ’Why, Sir, did you go to Mrs. Abington’s benefit?  Did you see?’ Johnson.  ‘No, Sir.’  ‘Did you hear?’ Johnson.  ‘No, Sir.’  ’Why then, Sir, did you go?’ Johnson.  ’Because, Sir, she is a favourite of the publick; and when the publick cares the thousandth part for you that it does for her, I will go to your benefit too.’