Death of David Garrick

Here's that passage we mentioned (link):

David Garrick['s] widow has been in mourning, but the period is over. This evening was the first time since her husband's death . . . that Mrs. Garrick has had a select party of her husband's friends dine with her. Boswell was there, of course, as were Dr. Johnson [and others].

Of this particular evening--all good things happen in a particular time, in a particular place--Boswell said, "I spent with him [Johnson] one of the happiest days that I remember to have enjoyed in the whole course of my life." They dined, of course. "We found ourselves very elegantly entertained in her house in the Adelphi." They spoke of her grief, but without morbidity. "She talked of her husband with complacency." She remarked poignantly that "death was now the most agreeable object to her." A painting of Garrick was on the wall . . .

We might, on reading Boswell's comment that this was one of the happiest days of his life, wonder about the appropriateness of the sentiment. And yet, as we read on, we realize that here we hear spoken of the ultimate, the fine, and the ordinary things of our human lot. "We were all in fine spirits," Boswell continued, for the death of their friend was now put into place in their lives, its mystery accepted. Boswell next turned to Mrs Boscawen and whispered, "I believe this is as much as can be made of life" . . .

Was Boswell wrong that no more can be made of life. Ought we to be perturbed that on this happy day, a widow spoke complacently of her late husband, the actor, a merry man? . . . No, I think here Boswell is right. He had sensed civilization at its best, where elegant things are served and the ends of life and transcendence have their place in the delight and joy we are allotted in this vale of tears.

From The Unseriousness of Human Affairs, ISI Books 2001, 73-75.