Johnson, however, had a noble ambition floating in his mind, and had, undoubtedly, often speculated on the possibility of his supereminent powers being rewarded in this great and liberal country by the highest honours of the state.  Sir William Scott informs me, that upon the death of the late Lord Lichfield, who was Chancellor of the University of Oxford, he said to Johnson, ’What a pity it is, Sir, that you did not follow the profession of the law.  You might have been Lord Chancellor of Great Britain, and attained to the dignity of the peerage; and now that the title of Lichfleld, your native city, is extinct, you might have had it.’  Johnson, upon this, seemed much agitated; and, in an angry tone, exclaimed, ’Why will you vex me by suggesting this, when it is too late?’

But he did not repine at the prosperity of others.  The late Dr. Thomas Leland, told Mr. Courtenay, that when Mr. Edmund Burke shewed Johnson his fine house and lands near Beaconsfield, Johnson coolly said, ’Non equidem invideo; miror magis.’*

* I am not entirely without suspicion that Johnson may have felt a little momentary envy; for no man loved the good things of this life better than he did and he could not but be conscious that he deserved a much larger share of them, than he ever had.—­Boswell.

Yet no man had a higher notion of the dignity of literature than Johnson, or was more determined in maintaining the respect which he justly considered as due to it.  Of this, besides the general tenor of his conduct in society, some characteristical instances may be mentioned.

He told Sir Joshua Reynolds, that once when he dined in a numerous company of booksellers, where the room being small, the head of the table, at which he sat, was almost close to the fire, he persevered in suffering a great deal of inconvenience from the heat, rather than quit his place, and let one of them sit above him.

Goldsmith, in his diverting simplicity, complained one day, in a mixed company, of Lord Camden.  ’I met him (said he,) at Lord Clare’s house in the country, and he took no more notice of me than if I had been an ordinary man.  The company having laughed heartily, Johnson stood forth in defence of his friend.  ’Nay, Gentlemen, (said he,) Dr. Goldsmith is in the right.  A nobleman ought to have made up to such a man as Goldsmith; and I think it is much against Lord Camden that he neglected him.’

Nor could he patiently endure to hear that such respect as he thought due only to higher intellectual qualities, should be bestowed on men of slighter, though perhaps more amusing talents.  I told him, that one morning, when I went to breakfast with Garrick, who was very vain of his intimacy with Lord Camden, he accosted me thus:—­’Pray now, did you—­did you meet a little lawyer turning the corner, eh?’—­’No, Sir, (said I).  Pray what do you mean by the question?’—­’Why, (replied Garrick, with an affected indifference, yet as if standing on tip-toe,) Lord Camden has this moment left me.  We have had a long walk together.’  Johnson.  ’Well, Sir, Garrick talked very properly.  Lord Camden was A little lawyer to be associating so familiarly with a player.’