On Wednesday, July 6, he was engaged to sup with me at my lodgings in Downing-street, Westminster.  But on the preceding night my landlord having behaved very rudely to me and some company who were with me, I had resolved not to remain another night in his house.  I was exceedingly uneasy at the aukward appearance I supposed I should make to Johnson and the other gentlemen whom I had invited, not being able to receive them at home, and being obliged to order supper at the Mitre.  I went to Johnson in the morning, and talked of it as a serious distress.  He laughed, and said, ’Consider, Sir, how insignificant this will appear a twelvemonth hence.’—­Were this consideration to be applied to most of the little vexatious incidents of life, by which our quiet is too often disturbed, it would prevent many painful sensations.  I have tried it frequently, with good effect.  ’There is nothing (continued he) in this mighty misfortune; nay, we shall be better at the Mitre.’

I had as my guests this evening at the Mitre tavern, Dr. Johnson, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Thomas Davies, Mr. Eccles, an Irish gentleman, for whose agreeable company I was obliged to Mr. Davies, and the Reverend Mr. John Ogilvie, who was desirous of being in company with my illustrious friend, while I, in my turn, was proud to have the honour of shewing one of my countrymen upon what easy terms Johnson permitted me to live with him.

Goldsmith, as usual, endeavoured, with too much eagerness, to shine, and disputed very warmly with Johnson against the well-known maxim of the British constitution, ‘the King can do no wrong;’ affirming, that ’what was morally false could not be politically true; and as the King might, in the exercise of his regal power, command and cause the doing of what was wrong, it certainly might be said, in sense and in reason, that he could do wrong.’  Johnson.  ’Sir, you are to consider, that in our constitution, according to its true principles, the King is the head; he is supreme; he is above every thing, and there is no power by which he can be tried.  Therefore, it is, Sir, that we hold the King can do no wrong; that whatever may happen to be wrong in government may not be above our reach, by being ascribed to Majesty.  Redress is always to be had against oppression, by punishing the immediate agents.  The King, though he should command, cannot force a Judge to condemn a man unjustly; therefore it is the Judge whom we prosecute and punish.  Political institutions are formed upon the consideration of what will most frequently tend to the good of the whole, although now and then exceptions may occur.  Thus it is better in general that a nation should have a supreme legislative power, although it may at times be abused.  And then, Sir, there is this consideration, that if the abuse be enormous, Nature will rise up, and claiming her original rights, overturn a corrupt political system.’  I mark this animated sentence with peculiar pleasure, as a noble instance of that truly dignified spirit of freedom which ever glowed in his heart, though he was charged with slavish tenets by superficial observers; because he was at all times indignant against that false patriotism, that pretended love of freedom, that unruly restlessness, which is inconsistent with the stable authority of any good government.