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Johnson, Samuel, 1709-1784

"The Rambler, Volume II"


It were endless to recount the shifts to which I have been reduced, or
to enumerate the different species of artificial wit. I regularly
frequented coffee-houses, and have often lived a week upon an
expression, of which he who dropped it did not know the value. When
fortune did not favour my erratick industry, I gleaned jests at home
from obsolete farces. To collect wit was indeed safe, for I consorted
with none that looked much into books, but to disperse it was the
difficulty. A seeming negligence was often useful, and I have very
successfully made a reply not to what the lady had said, but to what it
was convenient for me to hear; for very few were so perverse as to
rectify a mistake which had given occasion to a burst of merriment.
Sometimes I drew the conversation up by degrees to a proper point, and
produced a conceit which I had treasured up, like sportsmen who boast of
killing the foxes which they lodge in the covert. Eminence is, however,
in some happy moments, gained at less expense; I have delighted a whole
circle at one time with a series of quibbles, and made myself good
company at another, by scalding my fingers, or mistaking a lady's lap
for my own chair.
These are artful deceits and useful expedients; but expedients are at
length exhausted, and deceits detected.


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