I have also written six sheets in a day of translation
from the French[203].' BOSWELL. 'We have all observed how one man
dresses himself slowly, and another fast.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir: it is
wonderful how much time some people will consume in dressing; taking up
a thing and looking at it, and laying it down, and taking it up again.
Every one should get the habit of doing it quickly. I would say to a
young divine, "Here is your text; let me see how soon you can make a
sermon." Then I'd say, "Let me see how much better you can make it."
Thus I should see both his powers and his judgement.'
We all went to Dr. Watson's to supper. Miss Sharp, great grandchild of
Archbishop Sharp, was there; as was Mr. Craig, the ingenious architect
of the new town of Edinburgh[204] and nephew of Thomson, to whom Dr.
Johnson has since done so much justice, in his _Lives of the Poets_.
We talked of memory, and its various modes. JOHNSON. 'Memory will play
strange tricks. One sometimes loses a single word. I once lost _fugaces_
in the Ode _Posthume, Posthume_[205].' I mentioned to him, that a worthy
gentleman of my acquaintance actually forgot his own name. JOHNSON.
'Sir, that was a morbid oblivion.'
FRIDAY, AUGUST 20.
Dr. Shaw, the professor of divinity, breakfasted with us. I took out my
_Ogden on Prayer_, and read some of it to the company.
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