threw out that pleasant little apophthegm about patriotism. To bring
together two such opposites without provoking a collision would be the
crowning triumph of Boswell's curiosity. He was ready to run all hazards
as a chemist might try some new experiment at the risk of a destructive
explosion; but being resolved, he took every precaution with admirable
foresight.

Boswell had been invited by the Dillys, well-known booksellers of the
day, to meet Wilkes. "Let us have Johnson," suggested the gallant
Boswell. "Not for the world!" exclaimed Dilly. But, on Boswell's
undertaking the negotiation, he consented to the experiment. Boswell
went off to Johnson and politely invited him in Dilly's name. "I will
wait upon him," said Johnson. "Provided, sir, I suppose," said the
diplomatic Boswell, "that the company which he is to have is agreeable
to you." "What do you mean, sir?" exclaimed Johnson. "What do you take
me for? Do you think I am so ignorant of the world as to prescribe to a
gentleman what company he is to have at his table?" Boswell worked the
point a little farther, till, by judicious manipulation, he had got
Johnson to commit himself to meeting anybody--even Jack Wilkes, to make
a wild hypothesis--at the Dillys' table. Boswell retired, hoping to
think that he had fixed the discussion in Johnson's mind.

The great day arrived, and Boswell, like a consummate general who leaves
nothing to chance, went himself to fetch Johnson to the dinner. The
great man had forgotten the engagement, and was "buffeting his books" in
a dirty shirt and amidst clouds of dust. When reminded of his promise,
he said that he had ordered dinner at home with Mrs. Williams.
Entreaties of the warmest kind from Boswell softened the peevish old
lady, to whose pleasure Johnson had referred him. Boswell flew back,
announced Mrs. Williams's consent, and Johnson roared, "Frank, a clean