hmetic masters, the man whose name has
grown into a proverb--Edward Cocker--who wrote "The Pen's
Transcendancy," an extraordinary proof of true eye and clever hand.

In the Chapter House of St. Paul's, which Mr. Peter Cunningham not too
severely calls "a shabby, dingy-looking building," on the north side of
the churchyard, was performed the unjust ceremony of degrading Samuel
Johnson, the chaplain to William Lord Russell, the martyr of the party
of liberty. The divines present, in compassion, and with a prescient eye
for the future, purposely omitted to strip off his cassock, which
rendered the ceremony imperfect, and afterwards saved the worthy man his
benefice.

St. Paul's Coffee House stood at the corner of the archway of Doctors'
Commons, on the site of "Paul's Brew House" and the "Paul's Head"
tavern. Here, in 1721, the books of the great collector, Dr. Rawlinson,
were sold, "after dinner;" and they sold well.

Child's Coffee House, in St. Paul's Churchyard, was a quiet place, much
frequented by the clergy of Queen Anne's reign, and by proctors from
Doctors' Commons. Addison used to look in there, to smoke a pipe and
listen, behind his paper, to the conversation. In the _Spectator_, No.
609, he smiles at a country gentleman who mistook all persons in scarves
for doctors of divinity. This was at a time when clergymen always wore
their black gowns in public. "Only a scarf of the first magnitude," he
says, "entitles one to the appellation of 'doctor' from the landlady and
the boy at 'Child's.'"

"Child's" was the resort of Dr. Mead, and other professional men of
eminence. The Fellows of the Royal Society came here. Whiston relates
that Sir Hans Sloane, Dr. Halley, and he were once at "Child's," when
Dr. Halley asked him (Whiston) why he was not a member of the Royal
Society? Whiston answered, "Because they durst not choose a heretic."
Upon which Dr. Halley said, if Sir Hans Sloane would propose him, he
(Dr. Halley) would second it, which was done accordingly.

Garrick, who kept up his interest with different coteries, carefully
cultivated the City men, by attending a club held at the "Queen's Arms"
tavern, in St. Paul's Churchyard. Here he used to meet Mr. Sharpe, a
surgeon; Mr. Paterson, the City Solicitor; Mr. Draper, a bookseller, and
Mr. Clutterbuck, a mercer; and these quiet cool men were his standing
council in theatrical affairs, and his gauge of the city taste. They
were none of them drinkers, and in orde