sleep in the afternoon, the same man constantly followed him with another.
Future experiments in chemistry however were too dangerous, and Mr. Thrale insisted that we should do no more towards finding the philosopher's stone.
Mr. Johnson's amusements were thus reduced to the pleasures of conversation merely[1]: and what wonder that he should have an avidity for the sole delight he was able to enjoy? No man conversed so well as he on every subject; no man so acutely discerned the reason of every fact, the motive of every action, the end of every design. He was indeed often pained by the ignorance or causeless wonder of those who knew less than himself, though he seldom drove them away with apparent scorn, unless he thought they added presumption to stupidity: And it was impossible not to laugh at the patience he shewed, when a Welch parson of mean abilities, though a good heart, struck with reverence at the sight of Dr. Johnson, whom he had heard of as the greatest man living, could not find any words to answer his inquiries concerning a motto round somebody's arms which adorned a tomb-stone in Ruabon church-yard. If I remember right the words were,
Heb Dw, Heb Dym,
Dw o' diggon[2].
And though of no very difficult construction, the gentleman seemed wholly confounded, and unable to explain them; till Mr. Johnson having picked out the meaning by little and little, said to the man, 'Heb is a preposition, I believe Sir, is it not?' My countryman recovering some spirits upon the sudden question, cried out, So I humbly presume Sir, very comically.
Stories of humour do not tell well in books; and what made impression on the friends who heard a jest, will seldom much delight the distant acquaintance or sullen critic who reads it. The cork model of Paris is not more despicable as a resemblance of a great city, than this book, levior cortice[3], as a specimen of
2 'The Welsh words, which are the Myddelton motto, mean, "Without God, without all. God is all-sufficient."' Life, v. 450, n. 2.