said he, "there is a great deal about me in it: you shall have at least one thing worth your pains; so if you will get the pen and ink, I will repeat to you Anacreon's Dove directly; but tell at the same time, that as I never was struck with any thing in the Greek language till I read that, so I never read any thing in the same language since, that pleased me as much. I hope my translation," continued he, "is not worse than that of Frank Fawkes." Seeing me disposed to laugh. "Nay, nay," said he, “Frank Fawkes has done them very finely:

Lovely courier of the sky,

Whence and whither dost thou fly?
Scatt'ring, as thy pinions play,
Liquid fragrance all the way:
Is it business? is it love?

Tell me, tell me, gentle Dove.

"Soft Anacreon's vows I bear,

Vows to Myrtale the fair;

Graced with all that charms the heart,
Blushing nature, smiling art,

Venus, courted by an ode,

On the bard her Dove bestow'd.
Vested with a master's right
Now Anacreon rules my flight:
His the letters that you see,
Weighty charge consign'd to me:
Think not yet my service hard,
Joyless task without reward:
Smiling at my master's gates,
Freedom my return awaits;
But the liberal grant in vain
Tempts me to be wild again:
Can a prudent Dove decline
Blissful bondage such as mine?
Over hills and fields to roam,
Fortune's guest without a home;
Under leaves to hide one's head,
Slightly shelter'd, coarsely fed;

Now my better lot bestows
Sweet repast, and soft repose;
Now the generous bowl I sip
As it leaves Anacreon's lip;
Void of care, and free from dread,
From his fingers snatch his bread,
Then with luscious plenty gay,
Round his chamber dance and play;
Or from wine as courage springs,
O'er his face extend my wings;
And when feast and frolic tire,
Drop asleep upon his lyre.

This is all, be quick and go,

More than all thou canst not know;

Let me now my pinions ply,

I have chatter'd like a pie."

When I had finished, "But you must remeinber to add," says Mr. Johnson, "that though these verses were planned, and even begun, when I was sixteen years old, I never could find time to make an end of them before I was sixty-eight."

15. Johnson's Portrait by Himself.

He told me that the character of Sober, in the Idler, was by himself intended as his own portrait; and that he had his own outset into life in his eye, when he wrote the eastern story of Gelaleddin.

16. Giving away Literary Productions.

Dr. Johnson was liberal enough in granting literary assistance to others, I think; and innumerable are the prefaces, sermons, lectures, and dedications which he used to make for people who begged of him. Mr. Murphy related in his and my hearing one day, and he did not deny it, that when Murphy joked him the week before for having been so diligent of late between Dodd's sermon and Kelly's prologue, that Dr. Johnson replied, "Why, Sir, when they come to me with a

dead stay-maker and a dying parson, what can a man do?" He said, however, that "he hated to give away literary performances, or even to sell them too cheaply: the next generation shall not accuse me,” added he, “ of beating down the price of literature: one hates, besides, ever to give that which one has been accustomed to sell: would not you, Sir," turning to Mr. Thrale, " rather give away money than porter ?

17. Reading.

Mr. Johnson had never, by his own account, been a close student, and used to advise young people never to be without a book in their pocket, to be read at bye-times, when they had nothing else to do. "It has been by that means," said he to a boy at our house one day, "that all my knowledge has been gained, except what I have picked up by running about the world with my wits ready to observe, and my tongue ready to talk. A man is seldom in a humour to unlock his bookcase, set his desk in order, and betake himself to serious study; but a retentive memory will do something, and a fellow shall have strange credit given him, if he can but recollect striking passages from different books, keep the authors separate in his head, and bring his stock of knowledge artfully into play. How else," added he, "de the gamesters manage, when they play for more money han they are worth?

18. The Dictionary.

His Dictionary, however, could not, one would think, have been written by running up and down: but he really did not consider it as a great performance; and used to say, "that he might have done it easily in two years, had not his health received several shocks during the time." When Mr. Thrale, in consequence of this declaration, teased him, in the year 1768, to give a new edition of it, "because,” said he "there are four or five

gross faults: "Alas! Sir,” replied Johnson, "there are four or five hundred faults, instead of four or five; but you do not consider that it would take me up three whole months' labour, and when the time was expired the work would not be done." When the booksellers set him about it, however, some years after, he went cheerfully to the business, said he was well paid, and that they deserved to have it donc carefully.

19. The French Academy.

His reply to the person who complimented hiin on his Dictionary coming out first, mentioning the ill success of the French in a similar attempt, is well known; and, I trust, has been often recorded: Why, what would you expect, dear Sir," said he, "from fellows that eat frogs?" (1)

20. Greek.

I have often thought Dr. Johnson more free than prudent, in professing so loudly his little skill in the Greek language (2): for though he considered it as a proof of a narrow mind to be too careful of literary reputation, yet no man could be more enraged than he, if an enemy, taking advantage of this confession, twitted him with his ignorance; and I remember when the king of Denmark was in England, one of his noblemen was brought by Mr. Colman to see Dr. Johnson at our country-house; and having heard, he said, that he was not famous for Greek literature, attacked him on the weak side; politely adding, that he chose that conversation on purpose to favour himself. Our Doctor, however, displayed so copious, so compendious a knowledge of authors, books, and every branch of learning in that language, that the gentleman appeared astonished. (1) For his pleasantry about the French Academy, see Vol. I, p. 215. C.

(2) [See antè, Vol. VIII. p. 389.j

VOL. IX.

When he was gone home, says Johnson, "Now for aì. this triumph, I may thank Thrale's Xenophon here, as, I think excepting that one, I have not looked in a Greek book these ten years: but see what haste my dear friends were all in," continued he, "to tell this poor innocent foreigner that I knew nothing of Greek! Oh, no, he knows nothing of Greek!" with a loud burst of laughing.

21. Pope-Dryden - Garrick

Young.

Congreve - and

Of Pope as a writer he had the highest opinion, and once when a lady at our house talked of his preface to Shakspeare as superior to Pope's, "I fear not, Madam,” said he ; "the little fellow has done wonders." His superior reverence of Dryden, notwithstanding, still a Il appeared in his talk as in his writings; and when some one mentioned the ridicule thrown on him in the "Renearsal," as having hurt his general character as an author, on the contrary," says Mr. Johnson, the greatness of Dryden's reputation is now the only principle of vitality which keeps the duke of Buckingham's play from putrefaction." (1)

66

It was not very easy, however, for people not quite intimate with Dr. Johnson, to get exactly his opinion of a writer's merit, as he would now and then divert himself by confounding those who thought themselves obliged to say to-morrow what he had said yesterday; and even Garrick, who ought to have been better acquainted with his tricks, professed himself mortified that one time when he was extolling Dryden in a rapture that I suppose disgusted his friend, Mr. Johnsor suddenly challenged him to produce twenty lines in a

(1) [If this opinion on the republication of "The Rehearsal be correct, it must as sometimes happens-have fallen and risen again. The truth is, that the greater number of readers at present admire the wit of "The Rehearsal," without ever thinking of its being a satire on Dryden. FONNEREAU.]