which the life of a scholar is
painted, with the various obstructions thrown in his way to fortune and
to fame, he burst into a passion of tears one day. The family and Mr.
Scott only were present, who, in a jocose way, clapped him on the back,
and said, "What's all this, my dear sir? Why, you and I and _Hercules_,
you know, were all troubled with _melancholy_." As there are many
gentlemen of the same name, I should say, perhaps, that it was a Mr.
Scott who married Miss Robinson, and that I think I have heard Mr. Thrale
call him George Lowis, or George Augustus, I have forgot which. He was a
very large man, however, and made out the triumvirate with Johnson and
Hercules comically enough. The Doctor was so delighted at his odd sally
that he suddenly embraced him, and the subject was immediately changed. I
never saw Mr. Scott but that once in my life.

Dr. Johnson was liberal enough in granting literary assistance to others,
I think; and innumerable are the prefaces, sermons, lectures, and
dedications which he used to make for people who begged of him. Mr.
Murphy related in his and my hearing one day, and he did not deny it,
that when Murphy joked him the week before for having been so diligent of
late between Dodd's sermon and Kelly's prologue, Dr. Johnson replied,
"Why, sir, when they come to me with a dead staymaker and a dying parson,
what can a man do?" He _said_, however, that "he hated to give away
literary performances, or even to sell them too cheaply. The next
generation shall not accuse me," added he, "of beating down the price of
literature. One hates, besides, ever to give that which one has been
accustomed to sell. Would not you, sir," turning to Mr. Thrale, "rather
give away money than porter?"

Mr. Johnson had never, by his own account, been a close student, and used
to advise young people never to be without a book in their pocket, to be
read at bye-times when they had nothing else to do. "It has been by that
means," said he to a boy at our house one day, "that all my knowledge has
been gained, except what I have picked up by running about the world with
my wits ready to observe, and my tongue ready to talk. A man is seldom
in a humour to unlock his bookcase, set his desk in order, and betake
himself to serious study; but a retentive memory will do something, and a
fellow shall have strange credit given him, if he can but recollect
striking passages from different books, keep the authors sepa