by his defects only, and that Reynolds had painted for her his own portrait, with the ear-trumpet. He replied, "He may paint himself as deaf as he chooses, but he shall not paint me as blinking Sam."
JOHNSON'S DEATH.
"Amidst the applause," says Cunningham, "which
these works obtained for him, the President met with
a loss which the world could not repair—Samuel
Johnson died on the 13th of December, 1784, full of
years and honors. A long, a warm, and a beneficial
friendship had subsisted between them. The house
and the purse of Reynolds were ever open to Johnson,
and the word and the pen of Johnson were equally
ready for Reynolds. It was pleasing to contemplate
this affectionate brotherhood, and it was sorrowful
to see it dissevered. 'I have three requests to
make,' said Johnson, the day before his death, 'and
I beg that you will attend to them, Sir Joshua.
Forgive me thirty pounds, which I borrowed from
you—read the Scriptures—and abstain from using
your pencil on the Sabbath-day.' Reynolds promised,
and—what is better—remembered his promise?"
REYNOLDS AND GOLDSMITH.
We hear much about "poetic inspiration," and
the "poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling." Reynolds
use to tell an anecdote of goldsmith calculated to
abate our notions about the ardor of composition.
