dull or idle boys are left at the end of a
class, having the appearance of going through the course, but learning
nothing at all[268]. Such boys may do good at a private school, where
constant attention is paid to them, and they are watched. So that the
question of publick or private education is not properly a general one;
but whether one or the other is best for _my son_.' We were told the
present Mr. Waller was a plain country gentleman; and his son would be
such another. I observed, a family could not expect a poet but in a
hundred generations. 'Nay, (said Dr. Johnson,) not one family in a
hundred can expect a poet in a hundred generations.' He then repeated
Dryden's celebrated lines,

'Three poets in three distant ages born,' &c.

and a part of a Latin translation of it done at Oxford[269]: he did not
then say by whom.

He received a card from Sir Alexander Gordon, who had been his
acquaintance twenty years ago in London, and who, 'if forgiven for not
answering a line from him,' would come in the afternoon. Dr. Johnson
rejoiced to hear of him, and begged he would come and dine with us. I
was much pleased to see the kindness with which Dr. Johnson received his
old friend Sir Alexander[270]; a gentleman of good family, _Lismore_,
but who had not the estate. The King's College here made him Professor
of Medicine, which affords him a decent subsistence. He told us that the
value of the stockings exported from Aberdeen was, in peace, a hundred
thousand pounds; and amounted, in time of war, to one hundred and
seventy thousand pounds. Dr. Johnson asked, What made the difference?
Here we had a proof of the comparative sagacity of the two professors.
Sir Alexander answered, 'Because there is more occasion for them in
war.' Professor Thomas Gordon answered, 'Because the Germans, who are
our great rivals in the manufacture of stockings, are otherwise employed
in time of war.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, you have given a very good solution.'

At dinner, Dr. Johnson ate several plate-fulls of Scotch broth, with
barley and peas in it, and seemed very fond of the dish. I said, 'You
never ate it before.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; but I don't care how soon I eat
it again[271].' My cousin, Miss Dallas, formerly of Inverness, was
married to Mr. Riddoch, one of the ministers of the English chapel here.
He was ill, and confined to his room; but she sent us a kind invitation
to tea, which we all accepted. She was the same lively, sensible,
cheerf