He shook his head sadly.
“I am pleased to hear that you have acquired this knowledge, which the wisdom of the ancients has crystallised in a phrase,” said the stranger. “But you must present me to your friends, Noll—Oliver, I mean. You, sir”—he turned to Reynolds—“have told me your name. Am I fortunate enough to be face to face with Sir Joshua Reynolds? Oh, there can be no doubt about it. Oliver dedicated his last poem to you. Sir, I am your servant. And you, sir”—he turned to Burke—“I seem to have seen your face somewhere—it is strangely familiar——”
“That gentleman is Mr. Burke, sir,” said Goldsmith. He was rapidly recovering his embarrassment, and spoke with something of an air of pride, as he made a gesture with his right hand towards Burke. The clergyman made precisely the same gesture with his left hand, crying——
“What, Mr. Edmund Burke, the friend of liberty—the friend of the people?”
“The same, sir,” said Oliver. “He is, besides, the friend of Oliver Goldsmith.”
“Then he is my friend also,” said the clergyman. “Sir, to be in a position to shake you by the hand is the greatest privilege of my life.”
“You do me great honor, sir,” said Burke.
Goldsmith was burning to draw the attention of his relative to Dr. Johnson, who on his side was looking anything but pleased at being so far neglected.
“Mr. Burke, you are our countryman—Oliver's and mine—and I know you are sound on the Royal Marriage Act. I should dearly like to have a talk with you on that iniquitous measure. You opposed it, sir?”
“With all my power, sir,” said Burke. “Give me your hand again, sir. Mrs. Luttrel was an honour to her sex, and it is she who confers an honour upon the Duke of Cumberland, not the other way about.”