Richard Grey. So, to correct him, Taylor said, (imitating
his affected sententious emphasis and nod,) "RICHARD."'
Mrs. Cholmondeley, in a high flow of spirits, exhibited some lively
sallies of hyperbolical compliment to Johnson, with whom she had been
long acquainted, and was very easy. He was quick in catching the MANNER
of the moment, and answered her somewhat in the style of the hero of a
romance, 'Madam, you crown me with unfading laurels.'
We talked of a lady's verses on Ireland. MISS REYNOLDS. 'Have you seen
them, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'No, Madam. I have seen a translation from Horace,
by one of her daughters. She shewed it me.' MISS REYNOLDS. 'And how was
it, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Why, very well for a young Miss's verses;--that
is to say, compared with excellence, nothing; but, very well, for the
person who wrote them. I am vexed at being shewn verses in that manner.'
MISS REYNOLDS. 'But if they should be good, why not give them hearty
praise?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Madam, because I have not then got the better
of my bad humour from having been shown them.
Pages:
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816