I shall present my readers with a series of what I gathered this evening from the Johnsonian garden.

’Did we not hear so much said of Jack Wilkes, we should think more highly of his conversation.  Jack has great variety of talk, Jack is a scholar, and Jack has the manners of a gentleman.  But after hearing his name sounded from pole to pole, as the phoenix of convivial felicity, we are disappointed in his company.  He has always been at me:  but I would do Jack a kindness, rather than not.  The contest is now over.’

’Colley Cibber once consulted me as to one of his birthday Odes, a long time before it was wanted.  I objected very freely to several passages.  Cibber lost patience, and would not read his Ode to an end.  When we had done with criticism, we walked over to Richardson’s, the authour of Clarissa and I wondered to find Richardson displeased that I “did not treat Cibber with more respect.”  Now, Sir, to talk of respect for a player!’ (smiling disdainfully.) Boswell.  ’There, Sir, you are always heretical:  you never will allow merit to a player.’  Johnson.  ’Merit, Sir! what merit?  Do you respect a rope-dancer, or a ballad-singer?’ Boswell.  ’No, Sir:  but we respect a great player, as a man who can conceive lofty sentiments, and can express them gracefully.’  Johnson.  ’What, Sir, a fellow who claps a hump on his back, and a lump on his leg, and cries “I am Richard the Third”?  Nay, Sir, a ballad-singer is a higher man, for he does two things; he repeats and he sings:  there is both recitation and musick in his performance:  the player only recites.’  Boswell.  ’My dear Sir! you may turn anything into ridicule.  I allow, that a player of farce is not entitled to respect; he does a little thing:  but he who can represent exalted characters, and touch the noblest passions, has very respectable powers; and mankind have agreed in admiring great talents for the stage.  We must consider, too, that a great player does what very few are capable to do:  his art is a very rare faculty.  Who can repeat Hamlet’s soliloquy, “To be, or not to be,” as Garrick does it?’ Johnson.  ’Any body may.  Jemmy, there (a boy about eight years old, who was in the room,) will do it as well in a week.’  Boswell.  ’No, no, Sir:  and as a proof of the merit of great acting, and of the value which mankind set upon it, Garrick has got a hundred thousand pounds.’  Johnson.  ’Is getting a hundred thousand pounds a proof of excellence?  That has been done by a scoundrel commissary.’

This was most fallacious reasoning.  I was sure, for once, that I had the best side of the argument.  I boldly maintained the just distinction between a tragedian and a mere theatrical droll; between those who rouse our terrour and pity, and those who only make us laugh.  ’If (said I,) Betterton and Foote were to walk into this room, you would respect Betterton much more than Foote.’  Johnson.  ’If Betterton were to walk into this room with Foote, Foote would soon drive him out of it.  Foote, Sir, quatenus Foote, has powers superiour to them all.’