J.—Sir, you never heard me say, David Garrick was a great man. You may have heard me say that Garrick was a good repeater of other men’s words,—words put into his mouth by other men; this makes but a faint approach towards being a great man.
R.—But take Garrick upon the whole; now in regard to conversation——
J.—Well, sir, in regard to conversation I never discovered in the conversation of D. Garrick any intellectual energy, any wide grasp of thought, any extensive comprehension of mind; or that he possessed any of those powers to which great could, with any degree of propriety, be applied.
R.—But still——
J.—Hold, sir, I have not done—there are to be sure, in the laxity of colloquial speech, various kinds of greatness. A man may be a great tobacconist, a man may be a great painter, he may be likewise a great mimick: now you may be the one, and Garrick the other, and yet neither of you be great men.
R.—But, Dr. Johnson——
J.—Hold, sir. I have often lamented how dangerous it is to investigate, and to discriminate character, to men who have no discriminative powers.
R.—Garrick as a companion, I heard you say—no longer ago than last Wednesday, at Mr. Thrale’s table——
J.—You tease me, sir. Whatever you may have heard me say, no longer ago than last Wednesday, at Mr. Thrale’s table, I tell you, I do not say so now; besides, as I said before, you may not have understood me, you may not have heard me.
R.—I am very sure, I heard you.