I went to Streatham on Monday, March 30. Before
he appeared, Mrs. Thrale made a very characteristical remark:--'I do not
know for certain what will please Dr. Johnson: but I know for certain
that it will displease him to praise any thing, even what he likes,
extravagantly.'
At dinner he laughed at querulous declamations against the age, on
account of luxury,--increase of London,--scarcity of provisions,--and
other such topicks. 'Houses (said he,) will be built till rents fall:
and corn is more plentiful now than ever it was.'
I had before dinner repeated a ridiculous story told me by an old man
who had been a passenger with me in the stage-coach to-day. Mrs. Thrale,
having taken occasion to allude to it in talking to me, called it 'The
story told you by the old WOMAN.'--'Now, Madam, (said I,) give me leave
to catch you in the fact; it was not an old WOMAN, but an old MAN, whom
I mentioned as having told me this.' I presumed to take an opportunity,
in presence of Johnson, of shewing this lively lady how ready she was,
unintentionally, to deviate from exact authenticity of narration.
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