8 SELECT ENGLISH PROSE
sorry that they got thus much for their pains. Sir, it
was like leading one to talk of a hook when the author
is concealed behind the door.'
He received me very courteously; but, it must be con-
fessed, that his apartment, and furniture, and morning
dress, were sufficiently uncouth. His brown suit of
clothes looked very rusty; he had on a little old shrivell-
ed unpowdered wig, which was too small for his head;
his shirt-neck and knees of his breeches were loose; his
black worsted stockings ill drawn up; and he had a
pair of unbuckled shoes by way of slippers. But all
these slovenly particularities were forgotten the moment
that he began to talk. Some gentlemen, whom I do not
recollect, were sitting with him; and when they went
away, I also rose; but he said to me, 'Hay, don't go.'
*Sir, (said I,) I am afraid that I intrude upon you. It is
benevolent to allow me to sit and hear you/ He seemed
pleased with this compliment, which I sincerely paid
him, and answered, 'Sir, I am obliged to any man who
visits me.' I have preserved the following short minute
of what passed this day:—
'Madness frequently discovers itself merely by un-
necessary deviation from the usual modes of the world.
My poor friend Smart shewed the disturbance of his
mind, by falling upon his knees, and saying his prayers
in the street, or in any other unusual place. Now
although, rationally speaking, it is greater madness
not to pray at all, than to pray as Smart did, I am
afraid there are so many who do not pray, that their
understanding is not called in question.*
Concerning this unfortunate poet, Christopher Smart,
who was confined in a mad-house, he had, at another
time, the following conversation with Dr. Burney:—