Johnson felt not only kindness, but zeal and ardour for his friends. He
did every thing in his power to advance the reputation of Dr. Goldsmith.
He loved him, though he knew his failings, and particularly the leaven
of envy, which corroded the mind of that elegant writer, and made him
impatient, without disguise, of the praises bestowed on any person
whatever. Of this infirmity, which marked Goldsmith's character, Johnson
gave a remarkable instance. It happened that he went with sir Joshua
Reynolds and Goldsmith, to see the fantoccini, which were exhibited,
some years ago, in or near the Haymarket. They admired the curious
mechanism by which the puppets were made to walk the stage, draw a chair
to the table, sit down, write a letter, and perform a variety of other
actions, with such dexterity, that "though nature's journeymen made the
men, they imitated humanity," to the astonishment of the spectator. The
entertainment being over, the three friends retired to a tavern. Johnson
and sir Joshua talked with pleasure of what they had seen; and, says
Johnson, in a tone of admiration: "How the little fellow brandished his
spontoon!" "There is nothing in it," replied Goldsmith, starting up with
impatience, "give me a spontoon; I can do it as well myself."

Enjoying his amusements at his weekly club, and happy in a state of
independence, Johnson gained, in the year 1765, another resource, which
contributed, more than any thing else, to exempt him from the
solicitudes of life. He was introduced to the late Mr. Thrale and his
family. Mrs. Piozzi has related the fact, and it is, therefore, needless
to repeat it in this place. The author of this narrative looks back to
the share he had in that business, with self-congratulation, since he
knows the tenderness which, from that time, soothed Johnson's cares at
Streatham, and prolonged a valuable life. The subscribers to Shakespeare
began to despair of ever seeing the promised edition. To acquit himself
of this obligation, he went to work unwillingly, but proceeded with