Dictionaries are like watches; the worst is better than none, and
the best cannot be expected to go quite true.
_Johnsoniana. Piozzi, 178._
Books that you may carry to the fire and hold readily in your
hand, are the most useful after all.
_Johnsoniana. Hawkins. 197._
Round numbers are always false.
_Johnsoniana. Hawkins. 235._
As with my hat[375-3] upon my head
I walk'd along the Strand,
I there did meet another man
With his hat in his hand.[375-4]
_Johnsoniana. George Steevens. 310._
Abstinence is as easy to me as temperance would be difficult.
_Johnsoniana. Hannah More. 467._
The limbs will quiver and move after the soul is gone.
_Johnsoniana. Northcote. 487._
Hawkesworth said of Johnson, "You have a memory that would
convict any author of plagiarism in any court of literature in
the world."
_Johnsoniana. Kearsley. 600._
His conversation does not show the minute-hand, but he strikes
the hour very correctly.
_Johnsoniana. Kearsley. 604._
Hunting was the labour of the savages of North America, but the
amusement of the gentlemen of England.
_Johnsoniana. Kearsley. 606._
I am very fond of the company of ladies. I like their beauty, I
like their delicacy, I like their vivacity, and I like their
silence.
_Johnsoniana. Seward. 617._
This world, where much is to be done and little to be known.
_Prayers and Meditations. Against inquisitive and perplexing Thoughts._
Gratitude is a fruit of great cultivation; you do not find it
among gross people.
_Tour to the Hebrides. Sept. 20, 1773._
A fellow that makes no figure in company, and has a mind as
narrow as the neck of a vinegar-cruet.
_Tour to the Hebrides. Sept. 30, 1773._
The atrocious crime of being a young man, which the honourable
gentleman has with such spirit and decency charged upon me, I
shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny; but content myself
with wishing that I may be one of those whose follies may cease
with their youth, and not of that number who are ignorant in
spite of experience.[376-1]
_Pitt's Reply to Walpole. Speech, March 6, 1741._
Towering in the confidence of twenty-one.
_Letter to Bennet Langton. Jan. 9, 1758._
Gloomy calm of idle vacancy.
_Letter to Boswell. Dec. 8, 1763._
Wharton quotes Johnson as saying of Dr. Campbell, "He is the
richest author that ever grazed the common of literature."
FOOTNOTES:
[365-1]
All human race, from China to Peru,
Pleasure, howe'er disguised by art, pursue.
THOMAS WARTON: _Universal Love of Pleasure._
De Quincey (Works, vol. x. p. 72) quotes the criticism of some
writer, who contends with some reason that this high-sounding
couplet of Dr. Johnson amounts in effect to this: Let observation
with extensive observation observe mankind extensively.
[366-1]
Nothing in poverty so ill is borne
As its exposing men to grinning scorn.
OLDHAM (1653-1683): _Third Satire of Juvenal._
[366-2] Three years later Johnson wrote, "Mere unassisted merit
advances slowly, if--what is not very common--it advances at all."
[366-3] _Var._ His ready help was always nigh.
[367-1] _Var._ Then with no fiery throbbing pain.
[367-2]
Qui nullum fere scribendi genus
Non tetigit,
Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit.
See Chesterfield, page 353.
[367-3] A translation of Boethius's "De Consolatione Philosophiæ,"
iii. 9, 27.
[368-1] See Bacon, page 168.
[368-2] The italics and the word "forget" would seem to imply that
the saying was not his own.
[368-3] Sir William Jones gives a similar saying in India: "Words
are the daughters of earth, and deeds are the sons of heaven."
See Herbert, page 206. Sir THOMAS BODLEY: _Letter to his
Librarian, 1604._
[369-1] From the London edition, 10 volumes, 1835.
Dr. Johnson, it is said, when he first heard of Boswell's
intention to write a life of him, announced, with decision enough,
that if he thought Boswell really meant to _write his life_ he
would prevent it by _taking Boswell's!_--CARLYLE: _Miscellanies,
Jean Paul Frederic Richter._
[369-2] See Pope, page 331.
[370-1] I do not find that the age or country makes the least
difference; no, nor the language the actor spoke, nor the religion
which they professed,--whether Arab in the desert, or Frenchman in
the Academy. I see that sensible men and conscientious men all
over the world were of one religion of well-doing and
daring.--EMERSON: _The Preacher. Lectures and Biographical
Sketches, p. 215._
[371-1] Every investigation which is guided by principles of
nature fixes its ultimate aim entirely on gratifying the
stomach.--ATHENÆUS: _Book vii. chap. ii._
[371-2] Mr. Kremlin was distinguished for ignorance; for he had
only one idea, and that was wrong.--DISRAELI: _Sybil, book iv.
chap. 5._
[372-1] See Herbert, page 205.
Do not be troubled by Saint Bernard's saying that hell is full of
good intentions and wills.--FRANCIS DE SALES: _Spiritual Letters.
Letter xii._ (Translated by the author of "A Dominican Artist.")
1605.
[372-2] Scire ubi aliquid invenire possis, ea demum maxima pars
eruditionis est (To know where you can find anything, that in
short is the largest part of learning).--ANONYMOUS.
[372-3]
Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been,
May sigh to think he still has found
The warmest welcome at an inn.
SHENSTONE: _Written on a Window of an Inn._
[373-1] Chapter xlii. is still shorter: "There are no owls of any
kind in the whole island."
[374-1] I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.--EDWARD MOORE:
_The Gamester, act ii. sc. 2._ 1753.
[374-2] Usually quoted as "When a nobleman writes a book, he ought
to be encouraged."
[374-3] I have not loved the world, nor the world me.--BYRON:
_Childe Harold, canto iii. stanza 113._
[374-4] See Shakespeare, page 88.
[375-1] A parody on "Who rules o'er freemen should himself be
free," from Brooke's "Gustavus Vasa," first edition.
[375-2] Carried about with every wind of doctrine.--_Ephesians iv.
14._
[375-3] Elsewhere found, "I put my hat."
[375-4] A parody on Percy's "Hermit of Warkworth."
[376-1] This is the composition of Johnson, founded on some note
or statement of the actual speech. Johnson said, "That speech I
wrote in a garret, in Exeter Street." BOSWELL: _Life of Johnson,
1741._
LORD LYTTLETON. 1709-1773.
For his chaste Muse employ'd her heaven-taught lyre
None but the noblest passions to inspire,
Not one immoral, one corrupted thought,
One line which, dying, he could wish to blot.
_Prologue to Thomson's Coriolanus._
Women, like princes, find few real friends.
_Advice to a Lady._
What is your sex's earliest, latest care,
Your heart's supreme ambition? To be fair.
_Advice to a Lady._
The lover in the husband may be lost.
_Advice to a Lady._
How much the wife is dearer than the bride.
_An Irregular Ode._
None without hope e'er lov'd the brightest fair,
But love can hope where reason would despair.
_Epigram._
Where none admire, 't is useless to excel;
Where none are beaux, 't is vain to be a belle.
_Soliloquy on a Beauty in the Country._
Alas! by some degree of woe
We every bliss must gain;
The heart can ne'er a transport know
That never feels a pain.
_Song._
EDWARD MOORE. 1712-1757.
Can't I another's face commend,
And to her virtues be a friend,
But instantly your forehead lowers,
As if _her_ merit lessen'd _yours_?
_The Farmer, the Spaniel, and the Cat. Fable ix._
The maid who modestly conceals
Her beauties, while she hides, reveals;
Give but a glimpse, and fancy draws
Whate'er the Grecian Venus was.
_The Spider and the Bee. Fable x._
But from the hoop's bewitching round,
Her very shoe has power to wound.
_The Spider and the Bee. Fable x._
Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth,
And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.
_The Happy Marriage._
I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.[378-1]
_The Gamester. Act ii. Sc. 2._
'T is now the summer of your youth. Time has not cropt the roses
from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.
_The Gamester. Act iii. Sc. 4._
Labour for his pains.[378-2]
_The Boy and the Rainbow._
FOOTNOTES:
[378-1] See Johnson, page 374.
[378-2] See Shakespeare, page 101.
LAURENCE STERNE. 1713-1768.
Go, poor devil, get thee gone! Why should I hurt thee? This world
surely is wide enough to hold both thee and me.
_Tristram Shandy_ (orig. ed.). _Vol. ii. chap. xii._
Great wits jump.[378-3]
_Tristram Shandy_ (orig. ed.). _Vol. iii. Chap. ix._
"Our armies swore terribly in Flanders," cried my Uncle Toby,
"but nothing to this."
_Tristram Shandy_ (orig. ed.). _Vol. iii. Chap. xi._
Of all the cants which are canted in this canting world, though
the cant of hypocrites may be the worst, the cant of criticism is
the most tormenting!
_Tristram Shandy_ (orig. ed.). _Vol. iii. Chap. xii._
The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the
oath, blushed as he gave it in; and the recording angel as he
wrote it down dropped a tear upon the word and blotted it out
forever.[379-1]
_Tristram Shandy_ (orig. ed.). _Vol. vi. Chap. viii._
I am sick as a horse.
_Tristram Shandy_ (orig. ed.). _Vol. vii. Chap. xi._
"They order," said I, "this matter better in France."
_Sentimental Journey. Page 1._
I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba and cry, "'T
is all barren!"
_In the Street. Calais._
God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.[379-2]
_Maria._
"Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, Slavery," said I, "still
thou art a bitter draught."
_The Passport. The Hotel at Paris._
The sad vicissitude of things.[379-3]
_Sermon xvi._
Trust that man in nothing who has not a conscience in everything.
_Sermon xxvii._
FOOTNOTES:
[378-3] Great wits jump.--BYROM: _The Nimmers._ BUCKINGHAM: _The
Chances, act. iv. sc. 1._
Good wits jump.--CERVANTES: _Don Quixote, part ii. Chap. xxxviii._
[379-1]
But sad as angels for the good man's sin,
Weep to record, and blush to give it in.
CAMPBELL: _Pleasures of Hope, part ii. line 357._
[379-2] Dieu mésure le froid à la brebis tondue (God measures the
cold to the shorn lamb).--HENRI ESTIENNE (1594): _Prémices, etc.
p. 47._
See Herbert, page 206.
[379-3] Revolves the sad vicissitudes of things.--R. GIFFORD:
_Contemplation._
WILLIAM SHENSTONE. 1714-1763.
Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been,
May sigh to think he still has found
The warmest welcome at an inn.[379-4]
_Written on a Window of an Inn._
So sweetly she bade me adieu,
I thought that she bade me return.
_A Pastoral. Part i._
I have found out a gift for my fair;
I have found where the wood-pigeons breed.
_A Pastoral. Part i._
My banks they are furnish'd with bees,
Whose murmur invites one to sleep.
_A Pastoral. Part ii. Hope._
For seldom shall she hear a tale
So sad, so tender, and so true.
_Jemmy Dawson._
Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow,
Emblems right meet of decency does yield.
_The Schoolmistress. Stanza 6._
Pun-provoking thyme.
_The Schoolmistress. Stanza 11._
A little bench of heedless bishops here,
And there a chancellor in embryo.
_The Schoolmistress. Stanza 28._
FOOTNOTES:
[379-4] See Johnson, page 372.
Archbishop Leighton often said that if he were to choose a place
to die in, it should be an inn.--_Works, vol. i. p. 76._
JOHN BROWN. 1715-1766.
Now let us thank the Eternal Power: convinced
That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction,--
That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour
Serves but to brighten all our future days.
_Barbarossa. Act v. Sc. 3._
And coxcombs vanquish Berkeley by a grin.
_An Essay on Satire, occasioned by the Death of Mr. Pope._[380-1]
FOOTNOTES:
[380-1] ANDERSON: _British Poets, vol. x. p. 879._ See note in
"Contemporary Review," September, 1867, p. 4.
JAMES TOWNLEY. 1715-1778.
_Kitty._ Shikspur? Shikspur? Who wrote it? No, I never read
Shikspur.
_Lady Bab._ Then you have an immense pleasure to come.
_High Life below Stairs. Act ii. Sc. 1._
From humble Port to imperial Tokay.
_High Life below Stairs. Act ii. Sc. 1._
THOMAS GRAY. 1716-1771.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat 's averse to fish?
_On the death of a Favourite Cat._
A fav'rite has no friend!
_On the death of a Favourite Cat._
Ye distant spires, ye antique towers.
_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 1._
Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!
Ah, fields beloved in vain!
Where once my careless childhood stray'd,
A stranger yet to pain!
I feel the gales that from ye blow
A momentary bliss bestow.
_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 2._
They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.
_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 4._
Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,
Less pleasing when possest;
The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast.
_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 5._
Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day.
_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 6._
Ah, tell them they are men!
_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 6._
And moody madness laughing wild
Amid severest woe.
_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 8._
To each his suff'rings; all are men,
Condemn'd alike to groan,--
The tender for another's pain,
Th' unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would destroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,
'T is folly to be wise.[382-1]
_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 10._
Daughter of Jove, relentless power,
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best!
_Hymn to Adversity._
From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.
_The Progress of Poesy. I. 1, Line 3._
Glance their many-twinkling feet.
_The Progress of Poesy. I. 3, Line 11._
O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.[382-2]
_The Progress of Poesy. I. 3, Line 16._
Her track, where'er the goddess roves,
Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame,
Th' unconquerable mind,[382-3] and freedom's holy flame.
_The Progress of Poesy. II. 2, Line 10._
Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
_The Progress of Poesy. III. 1, Line 12._
He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time:
The living throne, the sapphire blaze,
Where angels tremble while they gaze,
He saw; but blasted with excess of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night.
_The Progress of Poesy. III. 2, Line 4._
Bright-eyed Fancy, hov'ring o'er,
Scatters from her pictured urn
Thoughts that breathe and words that burn.[382-4]
_The Progress of Poesy. III. 3, Line 2._
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate,
Beneath the good how far,--but far above the great.
_The Progress of Poesy. III. 3, Line 16._
Ruin seize thee, ruthless king!
Confusion on thy banners wait!
Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing,
They mock the air with idle state.
_The Bard. I. 1, Line 1._
Loose his beard, and hoary hair
Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air.[383-1]
_The Bard. I. 2, Line 5._
To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.
_The Bard. I. 2, Line 14._
Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes;
Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.[383-2]
_The Bard. I. 3, Line 12._
Weave the warp, and weave the woof,
The winding-sheet of Edward's race.
Give ample room and verge enough[383-3]
The characters of hell to trace.
_The Bard. II. 1, Line 1._
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows;
While proudly riding o'er the azure realm
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,
Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm;
Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway,
That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
_The Bard. II. 2, Line 9._
Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame,
With many a foul and midnight murder fed.
_The Bard. II. 3, Line 11._
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
_The Bard. III. 1, Line 11._
And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
_The Bard. III. 3, Line 3._
Comus and his midnight crew.
_Ode for Music. Line 2._
While bright-eyed Science watches round.
_Ode for Music. Chorus. Line 3._
The still small voice of gratitude.
_Ode for Music. V. Line 8._
Iron sleet of arrowy shower
Hurtles in the darken'd air.
_The Fatal Sisters. Line 3._
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,[384-1]
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 1._
Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 4._
The breezy call of incense-breathing morn.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 5._
Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 8._
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike the inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 9._
Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault,
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 10._
Can storied urn, or animated bust,
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death?
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 11._
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 12._
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;[384-2]
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 13._
Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.[385-1]
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 14._
Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 15._
The applause of list'ning senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 16._
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 17._
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife
Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.[385-2]
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 19._
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 20._
And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 21._
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 22._
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.[385-3]
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 23._
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 25._
One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill,
Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree:
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he.
_Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 28._
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth,
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown:
Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.[386-1]
_The Epitaph._
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear,
He gained from Heav'n ('t was all he wish'd) a friend.
_The Epitaph._
No further seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The bosom of his Father and his God.
_The Epitaph._
And weep the more, because I weep in vain.
_Sonnet. On the Death of Mr. West._
Rich windows that exclude the light,
And passages that lead to nothing.
_A Long Story._
The hues of bliss more brightly glow,
Chastised by sabler tints of woe.
_Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 45._
The meanest floweret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are opening paradise.
_Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 53._
And hie him home, at evening's close,
To sweet repast and calm repose.
_Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 87._
From toil he wins his spirits light,
From busy day the peaceful night;
Rich, from the very want of wealth,
In heaven's best treasures, peace and health.
_Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 93._
The social smile, the sympathetic tear.
_Education and Government._
When love could teach a monarch to be wise,
And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.[387-1]
Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune;
He had not the method of making a fortune.
_On his own Character._
Now as the Paradisiacal pleasures of the Mahometans consist in
playing upon the flute and lying with Houris, be mine to read
eternal new romances of Marivaux and Crebillon.
_To Mr. West. Letter iv. Third Series._
FOOTNOTES:
[382-1] See Davenant, page 217.
He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.--_Ecclesiastes i.
18._
[382-2] The light of love.--BYRON: _Bride of Abydos, canto i.
stanza 6._
[382-3] Unconquerable mind.--WORDSWORTH: _To Toussaint L'
Ouverture._
[382-4] See Cowley, page 262.
[383-1] See Cowley, page 261. Milton, page 224.
[383-2] See Shakespeare, page 112. Otway, page 280.
[383-3] See Dryden, page 277.
[384-1] The first edition reads,--
"The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea."
[384-2] See Sir Thomas Browne, page 217.
[385-1] See Young, page 311.
Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air.--CHURCHILL: _Gotham,
book ii. line 20._
[385-2] Usually quoted "even tenor of their way."
[385-3] See Chaucer, page 3.
[386-1] See Walton, page 208.
[387-1] This was intended to be introduced in the "Alliance of
Education and Government."--_Mason's edition of Gray, vol. iii. p.
114._
DAVID GARRICK. 1716-1779.
Corrupted freemen are the worst of slaves.
_Prologue to the Gamesters._
Their cause I plead,--plead it in heart and mind;
A fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind.[387-2]
_Prologue on Quitting the Stage in 1776._
Prologues like compliments are loss of time;
'T is penning bows and making legs in rhyme.
_Prologue to Crisp's Tragedy of Virginia._
Let others hail the rising sun:
I bow to that whose course is run.[387-3]
_On the Death of Mr. Pelham._
This scholar, rake, Christian, dupe, gamester, and poet.
_Jupiter and Mercury._
Hearts of oak are our ships,
Hearts of oak are our men.[388-1]
_Hearts of Oak._
Here lies James Quinn. Deign, reader, to be taught,
Whate'er thy strength of body, force of thought,
In Nature's happiest mould however cast,
To this complexion thou must come at last.
_Epitaph on Quinn. Murphy's Life of Garrick, Vol. ii. p. 38._
Are these the choice dishes the Doctor has sent us?
Is this the great poet whose works so content us?
This Goldsmith's fine feast, who has written fine books?
Heaven sends us good meat, but the Devil sends cooks?[388-2]
_Epigram on Goldsmith's Retaliation. Vol. ii. p. 157._
Here lies Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness called Noll,
Who wrote like an angel, and talk'd like poor Poll.
_Impromptu Epitaph on Goldsmith._
FOOTNOTES:
[387-2] See Burton, page 185.
[387-3] Pompey bade Sylla recollect that more worshipped the
rising than the setting sun.--PLUTARCH: _Life of Pompey._
[388-1]
Our ships were British oak,
And hearts of oak our men.
S. J. ARNOLD: _Death of Nelson._
[388-2] See Tusser, page 20.
WILLIAM B. RHODES. _Circa_ 1790.
Who dares this pair of boots displace,
Must meet Bombastes face to face.[388-3]
_Bombastes Furioso. Act i. Sc. 4._