the regret that stood next, or, rather, that stood alone with dr. burney, to that of losing the pure air and bright view of hampstead and highgate, by this change to st. martin’s-street, was missing the frequency of the visits of mr. garrick; to whom the queen-square of that day was so nearly out of town, that to arrive at it on foot had almost the refreshment of a country walk.
st. martin’s-street, on the contrary, was situated in the populous closeness of the midst of things; and not a step could garrick take in its vicinity, without being recognised and stared at, if not pursued and hailed, by all the common herd of his gallery admirers; those gods to whom so often he made his fond appeal; and who formed, in fact, a principal portion of his fame, and, consequently, of his happiness, by the honest tribute of their vociferous plaudits.
nevertheless, these jovial gods, though vivifying
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to him from their high abode, and in a mass, at the theatre, must, in partial groups, from the exertions he could never refrain from making to keep alive with almost whatever was living, his gay popularity, be seriously fatiguing, by crowding about him in narrow streets, dirty crossings, and awkward nooks and corners, such as then abounded in that part of the town; though still his buoyant spirits, glowing and unequalled, retained their elastic pleasure in universal admiration.
an instance of this preponderating propensity greatly diverted dr. burney, upon the first visit of mr. garrick to st. martin’s-street.
this visit was very matinal; and a new housemaid, who was washing the steps of the door, and did not know him, offered some resistance to letting him enter the house unannounced: but, grotesquely breaking through her attempted obstructions, he forcibly ascended the stairs, and rushed into the doctor’s study; where his voice, in some mock heroics to the damsel, alone preceded him.
here he found the doctor immersed in papers, manuscripts, and books, though under the hands of his hair-dresser; while one of his daughters was reading a newspaper to him;[58] another was making
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his tea,[59] and another was arranging his books.[60]
the doctor, beginning a laughing apology for the literary and littered state of his apartment, endeavoured to put things a little to rights, that he might present his ever welcome guest with a vacated chair. but mr. garrick, throwing himself plumply into one that was well-cushioned with pamphlets and memorials, called out: “ay, do now, doctor, be in a little confusion! whisk your matters all out of their places; and don’t know where to find a thing that you want for the rest of the day;—and that will make us all comfortable!”
the doctor now, laughingly leaving his disorder to take care of itself, resumed his place on the stool; that the furniture of his head might go through its proper repairs.
mr. garrick then, assuming a solemn gravity, with a profound air of attention, fastened his eyes upon the hair-dresser; as if wonder-struck at his amazing skill in decorating the doctor’s tête.
the man, highly gratified by such notice from
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the celebrated garrick, briskly worked on, frizzing, curling, powdering, and pasting, according to the mode of the day, with assiduous, though flurried importance, and with marked self-complacency.
mr. garrick himself had on what he called his scratch wig; which was so uncommonly ill-arranged and frightful, that the whole family agreed no one else could have appeared in such a plight in the public streets, without a risk of being hooted at by the mob.
he dropt now all parley whatsoever with the doctor, not even answering what he said; and seemed wholly absorbed in admiring watchfulness of the progress of the hair-dresser; putting on, by degrees, with a power like transformation, a little mean face of envy and sadness, such as he wore in representing abel drugger; which so indescribably altered his countenance, as to make his young admirers almost mingle incredulity of his individuality with their surprise and amusement; for, with his mouth hanging stupidly open, he fixed his features in so vacant an absence of all expression, that he less resembled himself than some daubed wooden block in a barber’s shop window.
the doctor, perceiving the metamorphosis, smiled
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in silent observance. but the friseur, who at first had smirkingly felt flattered at seeing his operations thus curiously remarked, became utterly discountenanced by so incomprehensible a change, and so unremitting a stare; and hardly knew what he was about. the more, however, he pomatumed and powdered, and twisted the doctor’s curls, the more palpable were the signs that mr. garrick manifested of
“wonder with a foolish face of praise;”
till, little by little, a species of consternation began to mingle with the embarrassment of the hair-manufacturer. mr. garrick then, suddenly starting up, gawkily perked his altered physiognomy, with the look of a gaping idiot, full in the man’s face.
scared and confounded, the perruquier now turned away his eyes, and hastily rolled up two curls, with all the speed in his power, to make his retreat. but before he was suffered to escape, mr. garrick, lifting his own miserable scratch from his head, and perching it high up in the air upon his finger and thumb, dolorously, in a whining voice, squeaked out, “pray now, sir, do you think, sir, you could touch me up this here old bob a little bit, sir?”
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the man now, with open eyes, and a broad grin, scampered pell-mell out of the room; hardly able to shut the door, ere an uncontrollable horse-laugh proclaimed his relieved perception of mr. garrick’s mystification.
mr. garrick then, looking smilingly around him at the group, which, enlarged by his first favourite young charles, most smilingly met his arch glances, sportively said, “and so, doctor, you, with your tag rag and bobtail there—”
here he pointed to some loaded shelves of shabby unbound old books and pamphlets, which he started up to recognise, in suddenly assuming the air of a smart, conceited, underling auctioneer; and rapping with his cane upon all that were most worn and defaced, he sputtered out: “a penny a-piece! a penny a-piece! a-going! a-going! a-going! a penny a-piece! each worth a pound!—not to say a hundred! a rare bargain, gemmen and ladies! a rare bargain! down with your copper!”
then, quietly re-seating himself, “and so, doctor,” he continued, “you, and tag-rag and bobtail, there, shut yourself up in this snug little book-stall, with all your blithe elves around you, to rest your understanding?”
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outcries now of “oh fie!” “oh abominable!” “rest his understanding? how shocking!” were echoed in his ears with mock indignancy from the mock-offended set, accompanied by hearty laughter from the doctor.
up rose mr. garrick, with a look of pretended perturbation, incoherently exclaiming, “you mistake—you quite misconceive—you do, indeed! pray be persuaded of it!—i only meant—i merely intended—be sure of that!—be very sure of that!—i only purposed; that is, i designed—i give you my word—’pon honour, i do!—i give you my word of that!—i only had in view—in short, and to cut the matter short, i only aimed at paying you—pray now take me right!—at paying you the very finest compliment in nature!”
“bravo, bravo! mr. bayes!” cried the doctor, clapping his hands: “nothing can be clearer!—”
mr. garrick had lent the doctor several books of reference; and he now inquired the titles and number of what were at present in his possession.
“i have ten volumes,” answered the doctor, “of memoirs of the french academy.”
“and what others?”
“i don’t know—do you, fanny?”—turning to his librarian.
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“what! i suppose, then,” said mr. garrick, with an ironical cast of the eye, “you don’t choose to know that point yourself?—eh?—o, very well, sir, very well!” rising, and scraping round the room with sundry grotesque bows, obsequiously low and formal; “quite well, sir! pray make free with me! pray keep them, if you choose it! pray stand upon no ceremony with me, sir!”
dr. burney then hunted for the list; and when he had found it, and they had looked it over, and talked it over, mr. garrick exclaimed, “but when, doctor, when shall we have out the history of histories? do let me know in time, that i may prepare to blow the trumpet of fame.”
he then put his cane to his mouth, and, in the voice of a raree showman, squalled out, shrilly and loudly: “this is your only true history, gemmen! please to buy! please to buy! come and buy! ’gad, sir, i’ll blow it in the ear of every scurvy pretender to rivalship. so, buy! gemmen, buy! the only true history! no counterfeit, but all alive!”
dr. burney invited him to the parlour, to breakfast; but he said he was engaged at home, to messrs. twiss and boswell; whom immediately, most gaily and ludicrously, he took off to the life.
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elated by the mirth with which he enlivened his audience, he now could not refrain from imitating, in the same manner, even dr. johnson: but not maliciously, though very laughably. he sincerely honoured, nay, loved dr. johnson; but dr. johnson, he said, had peculiarities of such unequalled eccentricity, that even to his most attached, nay, to his most reverential admirers, they were irresistibly provoking to mimicry.
mr. garrick, therefore, after this apology, casting off his little, mean, snivelling abel drugger appearance, began displaying, and, by some inconceivable arrangement of his habiliments, most astonishingly enlarging his person, so as to make it seem many inches above its native size; not only in breadth, but, strange yet true to tell, in height, whilst exhibiting sundry extraordinary and uncouth attitudes and gestures.
pompously, then, assuming an authoritative port and demeanour, and giving a thundering stamp with his foot on some mark on the carpet that struck his eye—not with passion or displeasure, but merely as if from absence and singularity; he took off the voice, sonorous, impressive, and oratorical, of dr. johnson, in a short dialogue with himself that had passed the preceding week.
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“david!—will you lend me your petrarca?”
“y-e-s, sir!—”
“david! you sigh?”
“sir—you shall have it, certainly.”
“accordingly,” mr. garrick continued, “the book—stupendously bound—i sent to him that very evening. but—scarcely had he taken the noble quarto in his hands, when—as boswell tells me, he poured forth a greek ejaculation, and a couplet or two from horace; and then, in one of those fits of enthusiasm which always seem to require that he should spread his arms aloft in the air, his haste was so great to debarrass them for that purpose, that he suddenly pounces my poor petrarca over his head upon the floor! russia leather, gold border, and all! and then, standing for several minutes erect, lost in abstraction, he forgot, probably, that he had ever seen it; and left my poor dislocated beauty to the mercy of the housemaid’s morning mop!”
phill, the favourite little spaniel, was no more; but a young greyhound successor followed mr. garrick about the study, incessantly courting his notice, and licking his hands. “ah, poor phill!” cried he, looking at the greyhound contemptuously, “you will never take his place, slabber-chops! though you
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try for it hard and soft. soft enough, poor whelp! like all your race; tenderness without ideas.”
after he had said adieu, and left the room, he hastily came back, whimsically laughing, and said, “here’s one of your maids down stairs that i love prodigiously to speak to, because she is so cross! she was washing, and rubbing and scrubbing, and whitening and brightening your steps this morning, and would hardly let me pass. egad, sir, she did not know the great roscius! but i frightened her a little, just now: ‘child,’ says i, ‘you don’t guess whom you have the happiness to see! do you know i am one of the first geniuses of the age? you would faint away upon the spot if you could only imagine who i am!’”
another time, an appointment having been arranged by dr. burney for presenting his friend mr. twining to mr. garrick, the two former, in happy conference, were enjoying the society of each other, while awaiting the promised junction with mr. garrick, when a violent rapping at the street door, which prepared them for his welcome arrival, was followed by a demand, through the footman,
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whether the doctor could receive sir jeremy hillsborough; a baronet who was as peculiarly distasteful to both the gentlemen, as mr. garrick was the reverse.
“for heaven’s sake, no!” cried mr. twining; and the doctor echoing “no! no! no!” was with eagerness sending off a hasty excuse, when the footman whispered, “sir, he’s at my heels! he’s close to the door! he would not stop!” and, strenuously flinging open the library door himself in a slouching hat, an old-fashioned blue rocolo, over a great-coat of which the collar was turned up above his ears, and a silk handkerchief, held, as if from the tooth-ache, to his mouth, the forbidden guest entered; slowly, lowly, and solemnly bowing his head as he advanced; though, quaker-like, never touching his hat, and not uttering a word.
the doctor, whom sir jeremy had never before visited, and to whom he was hardly known, save by open dissimilarity upon some literary subjects; and mr. twining, to whom he was only less a stranger to be yet more obnoxious, from having been at variance with his family; equally concluded, from their knowledge of his irascible character, that the visit had no other view than that of demanding satisfaction for some offence supposed to have been offered
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to his high self-importance. and, in the awkwardness of such a surmise, they could not but feel disconcerted, nay abashed, at having proclaimed their averseness to his sight in such unqualified terms, and immediately within his hearing.
for a minute or two, with a silence like his own, they awaited an explanation of his purpose; when, after some hesitation, ostentatiously waving one hand, while the other still held his handkerchief to his mouth, the unwelcome intruder, to their utter astonishment, came forward; and composedly seated himself in an arm-chair near the fire; filling it broadly, with an air of domineering authority.
the gentlemen now looked at each other, in some doubt whether their visitor had not found his way to them from the vicinity of moorfields.[61]
the pause that ensued was embarrassing, and not quite free from alarm; when the intruder, after an extraordinary nod or two, of a palpably threatening nature, suddenly started up, threw off his slouched hat and old rocolo, flung his red silk handkerchief into the ashes, and displayed to view, lustrous with vivacity, the gay features, the sparkling eyes, and
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laughing countenance of garrick,—the inimitable imitator, david garrick.
dr. burney, delighted at this development, clapped his hands, as if the scene had been represented at a theatre: and all his family present joined rapturously in the plaudit: while mr. twining, with the happy surprise of a sudden exchange from expected disgust to accorded pleasure, eagerly approached the arm-chair, for a presentation which he had longed for nearly throughout his life.
mr. garrick then, with many hearty reciprocations of laughter, expounded the motive to the feat which he had enacted.
he had awaked, he said, that morning, under the formidable impression of an introduction to a profound greek scholar, that was almost awful; and that had set him to pondering upon the egregious loss of time and pleasurability that hung upon all formalities in making new acquaintances; and he then set his wits to work at devising means for skipping at once, by some sleight of hand, into abrupt cordiality. and none occurred that seemed so promising of spontaneous success, as presenting himself under the aspect of a person whom he knew to be so desperately unpleasant to the scholiast, that, at the
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very sound of his name, he would inwardly ejaculate,
“take any form but that!”
here, in a moment, mr. garrick was in the centre of the apartment, in the attitude of hamlet at sight of the ghost.
this burlesque frolic over, which gave a playful vent that seemed almost necessary to the superabundant animal spirits of mr. garrick, who, as dr. johnson has said of shakespeare, “was always struggling for an occasion to be comic,” he cast away farce and mimicry; and became, for the rest of the visit, a judicious, intelligent, and well informed, though ever lively and entertaining converser and man of letters: and mr. twining had not been more amused by his buffoonery, than he grew charmed by his rationality.
in the course of the conversation, the intended encyclopedia of dr. goldsmith being mentioned, and the doctor’s death warmly regretted, a description of the character as well as works of that charming author was brought forward; and mr. garrick named, what no one else in his presence could have hinted at, the poem of retaliation.
mr. garrick had too much knowledge of mankind to treat with lightness so forcible an attack
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upon the stability of his friendships, however it might be softened off by the praise of his talents.[62] but he had brought it, he said, upon himself, by an unlucky lampoon, to which he had irresistibly been led by the absurd blunders, and the inconceivable inferiority between the discourse and the pen of this singular man; who, one evening at the club, had been so outrageously laughable, that mr. garrick had been betrayed into asserting, that no man could possibly draw the character of oliver goldsmith, till poor oliver was under ground; for what any one would say after an hour’s reading him, would indubitably be reversed, after an hour’s chat. “and then,” mr. garrick continued, “one risible folly bringing on another, i voted him to be dead at that time, that i might give his real character in his epitaph. and this,” he added, “produced this distich.”
“attend, passer by, for here lies old noll;
who wrote like an angel—but talked like poor poll!”
goldsmith, immeasurably piqued, vowed he would retaliate; but, never ready with his tongue in public, though always ready with his pen in private, he
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hurried off in a pet; and, some time after, produced that best, if not only, satirical poem, that he ever wrote, “retaliation.”
this was dr. goldsmith’s final work, and did not come out till after his death. and it was still unfinished; the last line, which was upon sir joshua reynolds, being left half written;
“by flattery unspoil’d—”[63]
to a very general regret, dr. johnson had not yet been named. probably, he was meant to form the climax of the piece.
his character, drawn by a man of such acute discrimination, who had prospered from his friendship, yet smarted from his wit; who feared, dreaded, and envied; yet honoured, admired, and loved him; would doubtless have been sketched with as fine a pencil of splendid praise, and pointed satire, as has marked the characteristic distiches upon mr. burke and mr. garrick.
