“To no human being, sir.” “Oh, come now, you must have given it to some one.” “To no one, sir--that is, no one from whom Garrick could possibly have had the story.” “Ah, I knew, and so did Johnson, that it would be out of the question to expect that you would hold your tongue on so interesting a secret. Well, perhaps this will be a lesson to you in the future. I must not fail to make an entire chapter of this in my biography of our great friend. Perhaps you would do me the favour to write down a clear and as nearly accurate an account as your pride will allow of your quarrel with the Doctor, sir. Such an account would be an amazing assistance to posterity in forming an estimate of the character of Johnson.” “Ah, sir, am I not sufficiently humiliated by the reflection that my friendly relations with the man whom I revere more than any living human being are irretrievably ruptured? You will not add to the poignancy of that reflection by asking me to write down an account of our quarrel in order to perpetuate so deplorable an incident?” “Sir, I perceive that you are as yet ignorant of the duties of the true biographer. You seem to think that a biographer has a right to pick and choose the incidents with which he has to deal--that he may, if he please, omit the mention of any occurrence that may tend to show his hero or his hero's friends in an unfavourable light. Sir, I tell you frankly that your notions of biography are as erroneous as they are mischievous. Mr. Boswell, I am a more conscientious man, and so, sir, I insist on your writing down while they are still fresh in your mind the very words that passed between you and Dr. Johnson on this matter, and you will also furnish me with a list of the persons--if you have not sufficient paper at your lodgings for the purpose, you can order a ream at the stationer's at the corner--to whom you gave an account of the humiliation of Dr. Johnson by the clergyman who claimed relationship with me, but who was an impostor. Come, Mr. Boswell, be a man, sir; do not seek to avoid so obvious a duty.” Boswell looked at him, but, as usual, failed to detect the least gleam of a smile on his face. He rose from the table and walked out of the coffee house without a word. “Thank heaven I have got rid of that Peeping Tom,” muttered Goldsmith. “If I had acted otherwise in regard to him I should not have been out of hearing of his rasping tongue until midnight.” (The very next morning a letter from Boswell was brought to him. It told him that he had sought Johnson the previous evening, and had obtained his forgiveness. “You were right, sir,” the letter concluded. “Dr. Johnson has still further impressed me with a sense of his generosity.”)