The Sexagenarian, on some occasion or other, revisited the place where his friend and patron resided, and both from affection and gratitude, hastened to pay his respects, where they were so justly due. He was greatly surprised to find the warmth, with which he had hitherto, invariably, been welcomed, changed into extreme coldness.
On requesting an explanation, Sir, said the old gentleman, I am informed that you write for the booksellers, than which I cannot conceive any thing more degrading, or more unbecoming, a scholar and a gentleman.
Pray Sir, did not Addison, and Swift, and Pope, and before them Dryden, write for the booksellers?
Granted, but that was a very different matter: their reputation was established, and they moreover, obtained very large sums for their productions.
If, Sir, the largeness of the sum increases or diminishes, as you appear to conceive it does, the turpitude of the action, how much do you imagine I received for my last work? I beg you also to remember that I have a large and increasing family, and nothing to depend upon but my talents and my diligence.
Why perhaps fifty pounds.
I have received seven hundred guineas.
The old gentleman’s displeasure vanished in a moment. I cannot blame you, I cannot blame you, he exclaimed, and they parted as good friends as ever.
Now to return to the brother author Doctor. Bating this single circumstance of his being too tenacious of his money, he was a most agreeable, well-informed, and good-natured man. Though far advanced in years, he retained a great deal of vivacity, and has often enlivened a numerous circle by his facetiousness and humour. No one endured a jest with greater forbearance; and as he came from a country where the Mahometan law prevailed, and had written a detailed account of the usages and peculiarities of the haram, he was often laughingly reproached with availing himself of the privileges of the Mahometan law to its fullest extent. That he ranked as a bashaw of three tails, had four wives, &c. &c.