brave mind t' affect what gallants do.
I sing, dance, drink, and merrily pass the day,
And, like a chimney, sweep all care away."

In Charles II.'s time the "Devil" became frequented by lawyers and
physicians. The talk now was about drugs and latitats, jalap and the law
of escheats. Yet, still good company frequented it, for Steele describes
Bickerstaff's sister Jenny's wedding entertainment there in October,
1709; and in 1710 (Queen Anne) Swift writes one of those charming
letters to Stella to tell her that he had dined on October 12th at the
"Devil," with Addison and Dr. Garth, when the good-natured doctor, whom
every one loved, stood treat, and there must have been talk worth
hearing. In the Apollo chamber the intolerable court odes of Colley
Cibber, the poet laureate, used to be solemnly rehearsed with fitting
music; and Pope, in "The Dunciad," says, scornfully:--

"Back to the 'Devil' the loud echoes roll,
And 'Coll' each butcher roars in Hockly Hole."

But Colley had talent and he had brass, and it took many such lines to
put him down. A good epigram on these public recitations runs thus:--

"When laureates make odes, do you ask of what sort?
Do you ask if they're good or are evil?
You may judge: from the 'Devil' they come to the Court,
And go from the Court to the 'Devil.'"

Dr. Kenrick afterwards gave lectures on Shakespeare at the Apollo. This
Kenrick, originally a rule-maker, and the malicious assailant of Johnson
and Garrick, was the Croker of his day. He originated the _London
Review_, and when he assailed Johnson's "Shakespeare," Johnson
laughingly replied, "That he was not going to be bound by Kenrick's
rules."

In 1746 the Royal Society held its annual dinner in the old consecrated
room, and in the year 1752 concerts of vocal and instrumental music were
given in the same place. It was an upstairs chamber, probably detached
from the tavern, and lay up a "close," or court, like some of the old
Edinburgh taverns.

The last ray of light that fell on the "Devil" was on a memorable spring
evening in 1751. Dr. Johnson (aged forty-two), then busy all day with
his six amanuenses in a garret in Gough Square compiling his Dictionary,
at night enjoyed his elephantine mirth at a club in Ivy Lane,
Paternoster Row. One night at the club, Johnson proposed to celebrate
the appearance of Mrs. Lennox's first novel, "The Life of Harriet
Stuart," by a supper at the "Devil Tavern."