Much as we must admire the honest wrath of Johnson, and the desire which he had to cure the affectation of Boswell, we cannot but regret sometimes that he was not more discriminating. It was much, no doubt, to be assured of affection, but affection alone could not take the place of an understanding sympathy; and if this had come from one whom he so much respected, it would have been invaluable to Boswell. As it was, he realised that Johnson must partially disapprove of him, and it was because he knew, and felt PROOFS OF AFFECTION this disapproval, as much as from any inherent quality of his temperament, that he so often wanted a proof of affection.

Whatever may have been their cause—it may have been no more than the mere need for friendship coupled with the peculiar unreserve of Boswell's character—the result of these demands was sometimes to irritate Johnson.

I said to him: 'My dear Sir, we must meet every year, if you don't quarrel with me.' Johnson: 'Nay, Sir, you are more likely to quarrel with me than I with you. My regard for you is greater almost than I have words to express; but I do not choose to be always repeating it; write it down in the first leaf of your pocket-book, and never doubt of it again.'

On one occasion Johnson was really angry. Boswell conceived the idea of making an experiment to test his affection. It was apparently his custom to write to Johnson upon his return to his family. He wanted to see what the Doctor would do if he neglected the usual civility. Johnson, of course, was eventually the first to write; and Boswell, thus gratified, answered him by a letter which frankly explained his motives:

I was willing ... to try whether your affection for me would, after an unusual silence on my part, make you write first. This afternoon I have had very high satisfaction by receiving your kind letter of inquiry, for which I most gratefully thank you. I am doubtful if it was right to make the experiment, though I have gained by it.

We may forgive Johnson for being annoyed by this letter.

Those who make very large demands upon their friends for a display of affection are, as a rule, rather tiresome companions; it may possibly be good to be sensitive, but it is bad to be easily offended, which is often the case with such people. But if Boswell, like many who take a decided lead in friendship, required many proofs to make him believe that it was more than a one-sided affair, he of all men was the most difficult to offend. We cannot do better than read his own accounts of his quarrels with Johnson. There is that famous one, in the first place, of the dinner at Sir Joshua's.

On Saturday, May 2, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Reynolds', where there was a very large company, and a great deal of conversation; but owing to some circumstance which I cannot now recollect, I have no record of any part of it, except that there were several people there by no means of the Johnsonian school; so that less attention was paid to him than usual, which put him out of humour; and upon some imaginary offence from me he attacked me with such rudeness, that I was vexed and angry, because it gave those persons an opportunity of enlarging upon his supposed ferocity and ill-treatment of his friends.

We may doubt whether Boswell gives the true reason BOSWELL BUFFETTED for his vexation. He was able to stand a great deal of 'buffeting' at Dr. Johnson's hands; but it was probably necessary for him to feel that the company were good-natured in their merriment. We do not resent that men should laugh at us if they laugh with us at the same time. It was no doubt the contemptuous and half-concealed mirth of strangers which Boswell felt to be unbearable. And if he felt like this we may sympathise with a short period of sulking. 'I was so much hurt, and had my pride so much roused, that I kept away from him for a week; and, perhaps, might have kept away much longer, nay, gone to Scotland without seeing him again, had not we fortunately met and been reconciled. To such unhappy chances are human friendships liable.'

The oddest thing of all about Boswell, when we reflect upon the scenes of his humiliation, is his pride. It is not the least unlikely that, as he suggests, if circumstances had not ordained otherwise he would have waited, and waited for a long time, for Johnson to make advances. It was not merely the pride of the worm in the proverb which may be roused at the last. The worm would not consciously go out of his way to incur insulting anger as Boswell did when he arranged the dinner with Wilkes and on many other occasions. Boswell's was a pride which was constantly giving him pain and was capable, when goaded to obstinacy, of going to considerable lengths.