' 'Why, then, Sir, (he replied,) YOU have
never seen Brentford.'
Though his usual phrase for conversation was _talk_[582], yet he made a
distinction; for when he once told me that he dined the day before at a
friend's house, with 'a very pretty company;' and I asked him if there
was good conversation, he answered, 'No, Sir; we had _talk_ enough, but
no _conversation_; there was nothing _discussed_.'
Talking of the success of the Scotch in London, he imputed it In a
considerable degree to their spirit of nationality. 'You know, Sir,
(said he,) that no Scotchman publishes a book, or has a play brought
upon the stage, but there are five hundred people ready to applaud
him.[583]'
He gave much praise to his friend, Dr. Burney's elegant and entertaining
travels[584], and told Mr. Seward that he had them in his eye, when
writing his _Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland_.
Such was his sensibility, and so much was he affected by pathetick
poetry, that, when he was reading Dr. Beattie's _Hermit_ in my presence,
it brought tears into his eyes[585].
He disapproved much of mingling real facts with fiction.
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