We may assume that in the minds of the company
around Johnson he had no place. He sat forgotten, overlooked; so that
his self-assertion startled every one just as on Boswell's page it
startles us. In Johnson's massive and magnetic presence only some very
remarkable man, such as Mr. Burke, was sharply distinguishable from
the rest. Others might, if they had something in them, stand out
slightly. This unfortunate clergyman may have had something in him,
but I judge that he lacked the gift of seeming as if he had. That
deficiency, however, does not account for the horrid fate that befell
him. One of Johnson's strongest and most inveterate feelings was his
veneration for the Cloth. To any one in Holy Orders he habitually
listened with a grave and charming deference. To-day moreover, he was
in excellent good humour. He was at the Thrales', where he so loved to
be; the day was fine; a fine dinner was in close prospect; and he had
had what he always declared to be the sum of human felicity--a ride in
a coach. Nor was there in the question put by the clergyman anything
likely to enrage him. Dodd was one whom Johnson had befriended in
adversity; and it had always been agreed that Dodd in his pulpit was
very emotional. What drew the blasting flash must have been not the
question itself, but the manner in which it was asked.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212