in the climate or the company." The Abbe
Reynal probably remembers that, being at the house of a common friend in
London, the master of it approached Johnson with that gentleman so much
celebrated in his hand, and this speech in his mouth: "Will you permit
me, sir, to present to you the Abbe Reynal?" "_No_, _sir_," replied the
Doctor very loud, and suddenly turned away from them both.

Though Mr. Johnson had but little reverence either for talents or fortune
when he found them unsupported by virtue, yet it was sufficient to tell
him a man was very pious, or very charitable, and he would at least
_begin_ with him on good terms, however the conversation might end. He
would sometimes, too, good-naturedly enter into a long chat for the
instruction or entertainment of people he despised. I perfectly
recollect his condescending to delight my daughter's dancing-master with
a long argument about _his_ art, which the man protested, at the close of
the discourse, the Doctor knew more of than himself, who remained
astonished, enlightened, and amused by the talk of a person little likely
to make a good disquisition upon dancing. I have sometimes, indeed, been
rather pleased than vexed when Mr. Johnson has given a rough answer to a
man who perhaps deserved one only half as rough, because I knew he would
repent of his hasty reproof, and make us all amends by some conversation
at once instructive and entertaining, as in the following cases. A young
fellow asked him abruptly one day, "Pray, sir, what and where is Palmyra?
I heard somebody talk last night of the ruins of Palmyra." "'Tis a hill
in Ireland," replies Johnson, "with palms growing on the top, and a bog
at the bottom, and so they call it _Palm-mira_." Seeing, however, that
the lad thought him serious, and thanked him for the information, he
undeceived him very gently indeed: told him the history, geography, and
chronology of Tadmor in the wilderness, with every incident that
literature could furnish, I think, or eloquence express, from the
building of Solomon's palace to the voyage of Dawkins and Wood.

On another occasion, when he was musing over the fire in our drawing-room
at Streatham, a young gentleman called to him suddenly, and I suppose he
thought disrespectfully, in these words: "Mr. Johnson, would you advise
me to marry?" "I would advise no man to marry, sir," returns for answer
in a very angry tone Dr. Johnson, "who is not likely to propagate
understandin