Johnson this year found an interval of leisure to make an excursion to Oxford, for the purpose of consulting the libraries there.

Of his conversation while at Oxford at this time, Mr. Warton preserved and communicated to me the following memorial, which, though not written with all the care and attention which that learned and elegant writer bestowed on those compositions which he intended for the publick eye, is so happily expressed in an easy style, that I should injure it by any alteration: 

’When Johnson came to Oxford in 1754, the long vacation was beginning, and most people were leaving the place.  This was the first time of his being there, after quitting the University.  The next morning after his arrival, he wished to see his old College, Pembroke.  I went with him.  He was highly pleased to find all the College-servants which he had left there still remaining, particularly a very old butler; and expressed great satisfaction at being recognised by them, and conversed with them familiarly.  He waited on the master, Dr. Radcliffe, who received him very coldly.  Johnson at least expected, that the master would order a copy of his Dictionary, now near publication:  but the master did not choose to talk on the subject, never asked Johnson to dine, nor even to visit him, while he stayed at Oxford.  After we had left the lodgings, Johnson said to me, “There lives a man, who lives by the revenues of literature, and will not move a finger to support it.  If I come to live at Oxford, I shall take up my abode at Trinity.”  We then called on the Reverend Mr. Meeke, one of the fellows, and of Johnson’s standing.  Here was a most cordial greeting on both sides.  On leaving him, Johnson said, “I used to think Meeke had excellent parts, when we were boys together at the College:  but, alas!

‘Lost in a convent’s solitary gloom!’

I remember, at the classical lecture in the Hall, I could not bear Meeke’s superiority, and I tried to sit as far from him as I could, that I might not hear him construe.”

’As we were leaving the College, he said, “Here I translated Pope’s Messiah.  Which do you think is the best line in it?—­My own favourite is,

‘Vallis aromaticas fundit Saronica nubes.’”

I told him, I thought it a very sonorous hexameter.  I did not tell him, it was not in the Virgilian style.  He much regretted that his first tutor was dead; for whom he seemed to retain the greatest regard.  He said, “I once had been a whole morning sliding in Christ-Church Meadow, and missed his lecture in logick.  After dinner, he sent for me to his room.  I expected a sharp rebuke for my idleness, and went with a beating heart.  When we were seated, he told me he had sent for me to drink a glass of wine with him, and to tell me, he was not angry with me for missing his lecture.  This was, in fact, a most severe reprimand.  Some more of the boys were then sent for, and we spent a very pleasant afternoon.”  Besides Mr. Meeke, there was only one other Fellow of Pembroke now resident:  from both of whom Johnson received the greatest civilities during this visit, and they pressed him very much to have a room in the College.