G.—But you must allow, Dr. Johnson, that Garrick was too much a slave to fame, or rather to the mean ambition of living with the great, terribly afraid of making himself cheap with them; by which he debarred himself from much pleasant society. Employing so much attention and so much management upon such little things, implies, I think, a little mind. It was observed by his friend Coleman that he never went into company but with a plot how to get out of it; he was every minute called out, and went off or returned as there was, or was not, a probability of his shining.

J.—In regard to his mean ambition, as you call it, of living with the great, what was the boast of Pope, and is every man’s wish, can be no reproach to Garrick; he who says he despises it, knows he lies. That Garrick husbanded his fame, the fame which he had justly acquired, both at the theatre and at the table, is not denied; but where is the blame either in the one or the other of leaving as little as possible to chance? Besides, sir, consider what you have said; you first deny Garrick’s pretensions to fame, and then accuse him of too great an attention to preserve what he never possessed.

G.—I don’t understand.

J.—I can’t help that, sir.

G.—Well but, Dr. Johnson, you will not vindicate him in his over and above attention to his fame, his inordinate desire to exhibit himself to new men, like a coquet ever seeking after new conquests, to the total neglect of old friends and admirers:

“He threw off his friends, like a huntsman his pack:”

always looking out for new game.

J.—When you have quoted the line from Goldsmith, you ought, in fairness to have given what followed,

“He knew when he pleased, he could whistle them back:”

which implies at least that he possessed a power over other men’s minds approaching to fascination. But consider, sir, what is to be done. Here is a man, whom every other man desired to know. Garrick could not receive and cultivate all, according to each man’s conception of his own value: we are all apt enough to consider ourselves as possessing a right to be exempted from the common crowd. Besides, sir, I do not see why that should be imputed to him as a crime which we all so irresistibly feel and practise; we all make a greater exertion in the presence of new men than old acquaintance; it is undoubtedly true that Garrick divided his attention among so many, that but little remained to the share of an individual: like the extension and dissipation of water into dew, there was not quantity united sufficiently to quench any man’s thirst; but this is the inevitable state of things; Garrick no more than any other man could unite what was in their nature incompatible.