J.--Sir, I as little understand what your meaning may be when you speak of the qualities that make a great man: it is a vague term. Garrick was no common man: a man above the common size of men, may surely, without any great impropriety, be called a great man. In my opinion, he has very reasonably fulfilled the prophecy which he once reminded me of having made to his mother, when she asked me how little David got on at school, that I should say to her, that he would come to be hanged, or come to be a great man. No, sir, it is undoubtedly true that the same qualities, united with virtue, or with vice, make a hero or a rogue, a great general or a highwayman. Now Garrick, we are sure, was never hanged, and in regard to his being a great man, you must take the whole man together. It must be considered in how many things Garrick excelled in which every man desires to excel, setting aside his excellence as an actor, in which he is acknowledged to be unrivalled; as a man, as a poet, as a convivial companion, you will find but few his equals, and none his superior. As a man he was kind, friendly, benevolent, and generous. G.--Of Garrick’s generosity I never heard; I understood his character to be totally the reverse, and that he was reckoned to have loved money. J.--That he loved money nobody will dispute; who does not? But if you mean by loving money he was parsimonious to a fault, sir, you have been misinformed. To Foote and such scoundrels, who circulated those reports, to such profligate spendthrifts, prudence is meanness, and economy is avarice. That Garrick, in early youth, was brought up in strict habits of economy, I believe, and that they were necessary, I have heard from himself; to suppose that Garrick might inadvertently act from this habit, and be saving in small things, can be no wonder, but let it be remembered at the same time, that if he was frugal by habit, he was liberal from principle; that when he acted from reflection, he did what his fortune enabled him to do, and what was expected from such a fortune. I remember no instance of David’s parsimony, but once, when he stopped Mrs. Woffington from replenishing the teapot; it was already, he said, as red as blood; and this is doubtful, and happened many years ago. In the latter part of his life, I observed no blameable parsimony in David; his table was elegant, and even splendid; his house both in town and country, his equipage, and I think all his habits of life were such as might be expected from a man who had acquired great riches. In regard to his generosity, which you seem to question, I shall only say there is no man to whom I would apply with more confidence of success, for the loan of £200 to assist a common friend, than to David, and this too with very little, if any, probability of its being repaid. G.--You were going to say something about him as a writer. You don’t rate him very high as a poet?