Phrase that time has flung away,

Uncouth words in disarray,

Tricked in antique ruff and bonnet,

Ode, and elegy and sonnet

One more, a parody from the translation of the Medea of Euripides:

Err snall they not, who resolute explore

Time's gloomy backward with judicious eyes;
And scanning right the practises of yore,
Shall deem our hoar progenitors unwise.

They to the dome where smoke with curling play
Announced the dinner to the regions round,

Summoned the singer blithe and harper gay,
And aided wine with dulcet streaming sound.

The better use of notes, or sweet or shrill,
By quivering string or modulated wind,
Trumpet or lyre-to their harsh bosoms chill,

Admission ne'er had sought or could not find.

Oh, send them to the sullen mansions dun,
Her baleful eyes where sorrow rolls around,
Where, gloom enamored, mischief loves to dwell,
And murder, all blood boltered, schemes the wound.

Where cates the luxuriant pile the spacious dish,
And purple nectar glads the festive hour,
The guest without a want, without a wish,
Can yield no room to music's soothing power.

Although the success of Dr. Johnson's Shakspeare was not great at first, it increased the respect for his ability, and his talents were fully recognized by Trinity College, Dublin, from which institution he received the title of Doctor of Laws. He was in the following year admitted to a personal interview with the king, in the library of the queen's palace, and soon after was appointed professor of ancient literature. Many of

Johnson's friends, and among them Mr. Strahan, the king's printer, were anxious to procure him a seat in parliament. His biographers have made themselves merry and amused their readers not a little with conjectures as to the ridiculous figure he would have made there. His sense of right would have prevented him from being a mere party man. He very much opposed the principle that "a man should go with his party, right or wrong." "This," he once said, "is so remote from national virtue, from scholastic virtue, that a good man must have undergone a great change before he can reconcile himself to such a doctrine. It is maintaining that you may lie to the public, for you do lie when you call that right which you think wrong, or the reverse." In his "Taxation no Tyranny," he endeavored to show that distant colonies which had in their assemblies

a legislature of their own, were still liable to be taxed in a British parliament, where they had no representatives, and he thought Britain was strong enough to force obedience. He afterwards felt keenly the unpopularity of his views, but would not permit himself to acknowledge the force and strength that were brought against him. At a meeting of a great number of the most respectable booksellers of London, it was unanimously agreed that an elegant and uniform edition of the English poets should be printed, with an account of the life of each author, by Dr. Samuel Johnson; and a committee accordingly waited upon him with proposals. He entered upon the task with avidity. All that was expected from him would have been embraced in a concise and succinct account of each poet, but he continued to expatiate and criticise, until at last he presented to

the world a work which could scarcely be credited as emanating from the pen of a man bordering on seventy. He enjoyed all the triumphs of success in the avidity with which his "Lives of the Poets" were read and praised, and he did not fail to enjoy another satisfaction, which he had always contended a writer must expect. He was attacked on all sides by friends of the dif ferent poets. Some contended he had said too little, while others contended he had said too much, as both quantity and quality were disagreeable. During his life his opponents were sufficiently busy, but it was astonishing how they increased in malignity and force after his death. Concealed hostility now showed itself even from those who had but a short time since been voluble in his praise. But it was his fate to receive the just reward of his transendent genius, re