I reminded him of the airings, in which he gave his time with his carriage for the benefit of Dr. Johnson’s health. “What an advantage!” he cried, “was all that to myself! I had not merely an admiration, but a tenderness for him,—the more I knew him, the stronger it became. We never disagreed; even in politics, I found it rather words than things in which we differed.”
“And if you could so love him,” cried I, “knowing him only in a general way, what would you have felt for him had you known him at Streatham?”
I then gave him a little history of his manners and way of life, there,—his good humour, his sport, his kindness, his sociability, and all the many excellent qualities that, in the world at large, were by so many means obscured.
He was extremely interested in all I told him, and regrettingly said he had only known him in his worst days, when his health was upon its decline, and infirmities were crowding fast upon him.
“Had he lived longer,” he cried, “I am satisfied I should have taken to him almost wholly. I should have taken him to my heart! have looked up to him, applied to him, advised with him in all the most essential occurrences of my life! I am sure, too,—though it is a proud assertion,—he would have liked me, also, better, had we mingled more. I felt a mixed fondness and reverence growing so strong upon me, that I am satisfied the closest union would have followed his longer life.”
I then mentioned how kindly he had taken his visit to him at Lichfield during a severe illness, “And he left you,” I said, “a book?" “Yes,” he answered, “and he gave me one, also, just before he died. ‘You will look into this Sometimes,’ he said, ‘and not refuse to remember whence you had it.’”[271]
And then he added he had heard him speak of me,—and with so much kindness, that I was forced not to press a recapitulation: yet now I wish I had heard it.
Just before we broke up, “There is nothing,” he cried, with energy, “for which I look back upon myself with severer discipline than the time I have thrown away in other pursuits, that might else have been devoted to that wonderful man!” He then said he must be gone,—he was one in a committee of the House, and could keep away no longer.