In the early days of The Club, Dr. Johnson was exceedingly particular as to the admission of candidates, and would not hear of any increase in the number of members. Not long after its institution, Sir Joshua Reynolds was speaking of the club to Garrick. “I like it much,” said the great actor briskly; “I think I shall be of you.” When Sir Joshua mentioned this to Dr. Johnson, the latter, according to Boswell, was much displeased with the actor’s conceit. “He’ll be of us!” growled he; “how does he know we will permit him?” Sir John Hawkins tried to soften Johnson, and spoke to him of Garrick in a very eulogistic way. “Sir,” replied Johnson, “he will disturb us by his buffoonery.” In the same spirit he declared to Mr. Thrale that, if Garrick should apply for admission, he would blackball him. “Who, sir?” exclaimed Thrale, with surprise: “Mr. Garrick—your friend, your companion—blackball him?” “Why, sir,” replied Johnson, “I love my little David dearly—better than all or any of his flatterers do; but surely one ought to sit, in a society like ours, ‘Unelbowed by a gamester, pimp, or player.’” By degrees the rigour of the club relaxed; some of the members grew negligent. Beauclerk lost his right of membership by neglecting to attend. Nevertheless, on his marriage (with Lady Diana Spencer, daughter of the Duke of Marlborough, and recently divorced from Viscount Bolingbroke), he claimed and regained his seat in the club. The number of the members was likewise augmented. The proposition to increase it originated with Goldsmith. “It would give,” he thought, “an agreeable variety to their meetings; for there can be nothing new amongst us,” said he: “we have travelled over each other’s minds.” Johnson was piqued at the suggestion. “Sir,” said he, “you have not travelled over my mind, I promise you.” Sir Joshua, less confident in the exhaustless fecundity of his mind, felt and acknowledged the force of Goldsmith’s suggestion. Several new members therefore were elected; the first, to his great joy, was David Garrick. Goldsmith, who was now on cordial terms with the great actor, zealously promoted his election, and Johnson gave it his warm approbation. The meetings of the Literary Club were often the occasion of much discussion between Edmund Burke and Johnson. One evening the former observed that a hogshead of claret, which had been sent as a present to the club, was almost out, and proposed that Johnson should write for another in such ambiguity of expression as might have a chance of procuring it also as a gift. One of the company said: “Dr. Johnson shall be our dictator.” “Were I,” said Johnson, “your dictator, you should have no wine; it would be my business ‘cavere ne quid detrimenti respublica caperet.’ Wine is dangerous; Rome was ruined by luxury.” Burke replied: “If you allow no wine as dictator, you shall not have me for master of the horse.”