no, he knows nothing of Greek!" with a loud burst
of laughing.

When Davies printed the "Fugitive Pieces" without his knowledge or
consent, "How," said I, "would Pope have raved, had he been served so!"
"We should never," replied he, "have heard the last on't, to be sure; but
then Pope was a narrow man. I will, however," added he, "storm and
bluster _myself_ a little this time," so went to London in all the wrath
he could muster up. At his return I asked how the affair ended. "Why,"
said he, "I was a fierce fellow, and pretended to be very angry; and
Thomas was a good-natured fellow, and pretended to be very sorry; so
_there_ the matter ended. I believe the dog loves me dearly. Mr.
Thrale," turning to my husband, "what shall you and I do that is good for
Tom Davies? We will do something for him, to be sure."

Of Pope as a writer he had the highest opinion, and once when a lady at
our house talked of his preface to Shakespeare as superior to Pope's, "I
fear not, madam," said he, "the little fellow has done wonders." His
superior reverence of Dryden, notwithstanding, still appeared in his talk
as in his writings; and when some one mentioned the ridicule thrown on
him in the 'Rehearsal,' 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."

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. Johnson suddenly challenged him
to produce twenty lines in a series that would not disgrace the poet and
his admirer. Garrick produced a passage that he had once heard the
Doctor commend, in which he _now_ found, if I remember rightly, sixteen
faults, and made Garrick look silly at his own table. When I told Mr.
Johnson the story, "Why, what a monkey was David now," says he, "to tell
of his own disgrace!" And in the course of that hour's chat he told me
how he used to tease Garrick by commendations of the tomb-scene in
Congreve's 'Mourning Bride,' p