commendation of the beautiful simplicity and poetic merit he supposed himself to discover in them. This circumstance provoked Johnson to observe one evening at Miss Reynolds's tea-table, that he could rhyme.as well, and as elegantly, in common narrative and conversation. "For instance, says he," "As with my hat upon my head Or, to render such poetry subservient to my own immediate use, "I therefore pray thee, Renny dear, That thou wilt give to me, With cream and sugar soften'd well, "Nor fear that I, my gentle maid, Have drunk the liquor up. "Yet hear, alas! this mournful truth, Nor hear it with a frown; Thou canst not make the tea so fast As I can gulp it down." And thus he proceeded through several more stanzas, till the reverend critic cried out for quarter. Such ridicule, however, was unmerited. 311. Night Composition. "Night," Mr. Tyers has told us, 66 was Johnson's time for composition." But this assertion, if meant for a general one, can be refuted by living evidence. Al (1) See post, where this anecdote is told in the vague manner and on the imperfect authority of Mr. Cradock. To have deliberately composed and circulated a parody on his friend's poem would have been a very different thing from a sportive improvisation over the tea-table. — C. most the whole Preface to Shakspeare, and no inconsiderable part of the "Lives of the Poets," were composed by daylight, and in a room where a friend (1) was employed by him in other investigations. His studies were only continued through the night, when the day had been preoccupied, or proved too short for his undertakings. Respecting the fertility of his genius, the resources of his learning, and the accuracy of his judgment, the darkness and the light were both alike. 312. Bolingbroke and Mallet. When in his latter years he was reminded of his forcible sarcasm against Bolingbroke and Mallet (2), the Doctor exclaimed, “Did I really say so?” “ Yes, Sir." He replied, "I am heartily glad of it.” 313. Capel. "You knew Mr. Capel (3), Dr. Johnson?" "Yes, Sir; I have seen him at Garrick's." "And what think you of his abilities?" "They are just sufficient, Sir, to enable him to select the black hairs from the white ones, for the use of the periwig makers. Were he and I to count the grains in a bushel of wheat for a wager, he would certainly prove the winner." 314. Collins and Steevens. - Mrs. Johnson's Death. When one Collins, a sleep-compelling divine of Hertfordshire, with the assistance of counsellor Hardinge, published a heavy half-crown pamphlet against Mr. Steevens, Garrick asked the Doctor, what he thought of this attack on his coadjutor. "I regard Collins's performance," replied Johnson, "as a great gun without powder or shot." When the same Collins after (1) Mr. Steevens himself. - C. - wards appeared as editor of Capel's posthumous notes on Shakspeare, with a preface of his own, containing the following words, "A sudden and most severe stroke of affliction has left my mind too much distracted to be capable of engaging in such a task (that of a further attack on Mr. Steevens), though I am prompted to it by inclination as well as duty,” - the Doctor asked to what misfortune the foregoing words referred. Being told that the critic had lost his wife, Johnson added, 66 I believe that the loss of teeth may deprave the voice of a singer, and that lameness will impede the motions of a dancing master, but I have not yet been taught to regard the death of a wife as the grave of literary exertions. When my dear Mrs. Johnson expired, I sought relief in my studies, and strove to lose the recollection of her in the toils of literature. Perhaps, however, I wrong the feelings of this poor fellow. His wife might have held the pen in his name. Hinc illæ Lachrymæ. Nay, I think I observe, throughout his two pieces, a woman's irritability, with a woman's impotence of revenge." Yet such were Johnson's tender remembrances of his own wife, that after her death, though he had a whole house at command, he would study nowhere but in a garret. Being asked the reason why he chose a situation so incommodious, he answered, "Because in that room only I never saw Mrs. Johnson." 315. Frequenting the Theatre. "Though you brought a tragedy, Sir, to Drury Lane, and at one time were so intimate with Garrick, you never appeared to have much theatrical acquaintance." "Sir, while I had, in common with other dramatic authors, the liberty of the scenes, without considering my admission behind them as a favour, I was frequently at the theatre. At that period all the wenches knew me, and dropped me a curtsy, as they passed on to the stage. But since poor Goldsmith's last comedy, I scarce recollect having seen the inside of a playhouse. To speak the truth, there is small encouragement there for a man whose sight and hearing are become so imperfect as mine. I may add, that, Garrick and Henderson excepted, I never met with a performer who had studied his art, or could give an intelligible reason for what he did." (1) 316. Thrale's Table. "Mrs. Thrale," Mr. Tyers reports, "knew how to spread a table with the utmost plenty and elegance;" but all who are acquainted with this lady's domestic history must know, that, in the present instance, Mr. Tyers's praise of her is unluckily bestowed. Her husband superintended every dinner set before his guests. After his death, she confessed her total ignorance in culinary arrangements. Poor Thrale studied an art of which he loved the produce, and to which he expired a martyr. Johnson repeatedly, and with all the warmth of earnest friendship, assured him he was nimis edax rerum, and that such unlimited indulgence of his palate would precipitate his end. 317. Late Hours. On the night before the publication of the first edition of his Shakspeare, he supped with some friends in the Temple, who kept him up, "nothing loth," till past five the next morning. Much pleasantry was passing on the subject of commentatorship, when, all on a sudden, the Doctor, looking at his watch, cried out, "This is sport to you, gentlemen; but you do not consider there are at most only four hours between me and criticism." The Doctor is known to have been, like Savage, a very late visitor; yet, at whatever hour he returned, he (1) This was probably before his acquaintance with Mr. Kemble and Mrs. Siddons, which took place only the year before his death. See antè, Vol. VIII. p. 236. — -C. never went to bed without a previous call on Mrs. Williams, the blind lady who for so many years had found protection under his roof. Coming home one morning between four and five, he said to her, "Take notice, Madam, that for once I am here before others are asleep. As I turned into the court, I ran against a knot of bricklayers." "You forget, my dear Sir," replied she, "that these people have all been a-bed, and are now preparing for their day's work." "Is it so, then, Madam? I confess that circumstance had escaped me." 318. "Time to go to Bed." Once, and but once, he is known to have had too much wine; a circumstance which he himself discovered, on finding one of his sesquipedalian words hang fire. He then started up, and gravely observed, "I think it time we should go to bed.' 319. Doctoring one's-self. If "a little learning is a dangerous thing" on any speculative subject, it is eminently more so in the practical science of physic. Johnson was too frequently his own doctor. In October, 1784, just before he came to London, he had taken an unusual dose of squills, but without effect. He swallowed the same quantity on his arrival here, and it produced a most violent operation. He did not, as he afterwards confessed, reflect on the difference between the perished and inefficacious vegetable he found in the country, and the fresh and potent one of the same kind he was sure to meet with in town. "You find me at present,” says he, “suffering from a prescription of my own. When I am recovered from its consequences, and not till then, I shall know the true state of my natural malady." From this period, he took no medicine without the approbation of Heberden. What follows is known by all, and by all |