Dr. J.-Yes; but we disputed the same before we were so well established with one another.
Mrs. T.-Oh, sometimes I think I shall die no other death than hearing the bitter things he says to others. What he says to myself I can bear, because I know how sincerely he is my friend, and that he means to mend me; but to others it is cruel.
Dr. J.-Why, madam, you often provoke me to say severe things, by unreasonable commendation. If you would not call for my praise, I would not give you my censure; but it constantly moves my indignation to be applied to, to speak well of a thing which I think contemptible.
F.B.-Well, this I know, whoever I may hear complain of Dr. Johnson's severity, I shall always vouch for his kindness, as far as regards myself, and his indulgence.
Mrs. T.-Ay, but I hope he will trim you yet, too!
Dr. J.-I hope not: I should be very sorry to say anything that should vex my dear little Burney.
F.B.-If you did, sir, it would vex me more than you can imagine. I should sink in a minute.
Mrs. T.-I remember, sir, when we were travelling in Wales, how you called me to account for my civility to the people. 'Madam,' you said, 'let me have no more of this idle commendation of nothing. Why is it, that whatever you see, and whoever you see, you are to be so indiscriminately lavish of praise?' 'Why! I'll tell you, sir,' said I, 'when I am with you and Mr. Thrale, and Queeny, I am obliged to be civil for four!'
There was a cutter for you! But this I must say, for the honour of both—Mrs. Thrale speaks to Dr. Johnson with as much sincerity, (though with greater softness,) as he does to her.