_Oct. 29._--We had a large party at home in the evening. I was presently
engaged by Mr. Pepys, and he was joined by Mr. Coxe, and he by Miss
Benson. Mr. Pepys led the conversation, and it was all upon criticism
and poetry. The little set was broken up by my retreat, and Mr. Pepys
joined Dr. Johnson, with whom he entered into an argument upon some
lines of Gray, and upon Pope's definition of wit, in which he was so
roughly confuted, and so severely ridiculed, that he was hurt and
piqued beyond all power of disguise, and, in the midst of the discourse,
suddenly turned from him, and, wishing Mrs. Thrale good night, very
abruptly withdrew.
Dr. Johnson was certainly right with respect to the argument and to
reason; but his opposition was so warm, and his wit so satirical and
exulting, that I was really quite grieved to see how unamiable he
appeared, and how greatly he made himself dreaded by all, and by many
abhorred. What pity that he will not curb the vehemence of his love of
victory and superiority.
The sum of the dispute was this. Wit being talked of, Mr. Pepys
repeated,--
“True wit is Nature to advantage dress'd,
What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd.”
“That, sir,” cried Dr. Johnson, “is a definition both false and foolish.
Let wit be dressed how it will, it will equally be wit, and neither the
more nor the less for any advantage dress can give it.”
Mr. P.-But, sir, may not wit be so ill expressed, and so obscure, by a
bad speaker, as to be lost?
Dr. J.-The fault, then, sir, must be with the hearer. If a man cannot
distinguish wit from words, he little deserves to hear it.