Johnson was prevailed with to come sometimes into these circles, and
did not think himself too grave even for the lively Miss Monckton (now
Countess of Corke), who used to have the finest BIT OF BLUE at the house
of her mother, Lady Galway. Her vivacity enchanted the Sage, and they
used to talk together with all imaginable ease. A singular instance
happened one evening, when she insisted that some of Sterne's writings
were very pathetick. Johnson bluntly denied it. 'I am sure (said she,)
they have affected ME.' 'Why, (said Johnson, smiling, and rolling
himself about,) that is, because, dearest, you're a dunce.' When she
some time afterwards mentioned this to him, he said with equal truth
and politeness; 'Madam, if I had thought so, I certainly should not have
said it.'
Another evening Johnson's kind indulgence towards me had a pretty
difficult trial. I had dined at the Duke of Montrose's with a very
agreeable party, and his Grace, according to his usual custom, had
circulated the bottle very freely.
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