“The dog is well enough,” said Johnson; “but he has need to be kept in his place, and I believe that there is no one whose attempts to keep him in his place he will tolerate as he does mine.”
“And what do you suppose is Mr. Garrick's place, sir?” asked Goldsmith. “Do you believe that if we were all to stand on one another's shoulders, as certain acrobats do, with Garrick on the shoulder of the topmost man, we should succeed in keeping him in his proper place?”
“Sir,” said Dr. Johnson, “your question is as ridiculous as anything you have said to-night, and to say so much, sir, is, let me tell you, to say a good deal.”
“What a pity it is that honest Goldsmith is so persistent in his attempts to shine,” whispered Boswell to Burke.
“'Tis a great pity, truly, that a lark should try to make its voice heard in the neighbourhood of a Niagara,” said Burke.
“Pray, sir, what is a Niagara?” asked Boswell.
“A Niagara?” said Burke. “Better ask Dr. Goldsmith; he alluded to it in his latest poem. Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Boswell wishes to know what a Niagara is.”
“Sir,” said Goldsmith, who had caught every word of the conversation in undertone. “Sir, Niagara is the Dr. Johnson of the New World.”