In 1778, Mr William Shaw published an Analysis of the Gaelic language. He quoted specimens of Gaelic poetry, and harangued on its beauties, with the aukward elocution of one who did not understand them. A few months ago, he printed a pamphlet. He traduced decent characters. He denied the existence of Gaelic poetry, and his name was echoed in the newspapers as a miracle of candour. Is there in the annals of Grubaean impudence any parallel to this? Is there any nation in the world except _one_, perpetually deluded by a succession of impostors? Are these the blessed fruits of that freedom which patriots perish to defend? If there be no pillory, no whipping post for such accumulated guilt, we may truly say with Shakespeare, that 'Liberty plucks Justice by the nose.' This incomparable bookbuilder, who writes a dictionary before he can write grammar, had previously boasted what a harvest he would reap from English credulity. He was not deceived. The bait was caught; and the voice of truth was for some time drowned in the clamours of the rabble. Mr Shaw wants only money. He thinks only how to get it, and with a courage that is respectable, avowed his intentions. But better things might have been expected from the moral and majestic author of the Rambler. He must have seen the Analysis of the Gaelic language, for Shaw mentions him as the patron of that work. He must have seen the specimens of Celtic poetry there inserted. That he is likewise the patron of this poor scribble, no man, I suppose, will offer to deny. From this single circumstance, Dr Johnson stands convicted of _an illiberal intention to deceive_. Candour can hardly hesitate to sum up his character in the vulgar but expressive pollysyllable. It will be demanded, why a private individual, without interest or connections, presumes to interfere in the quarrels of the learned? But when the most shameless of mankind, is _hired_ to abuse the characters of his countrymen, to blast the reputations of the living and the dead; when _such_ a tool is employed for _such_ a purpose, that those who are insulted cannot with propriety stoop to a reply,--THEN the highest degree of goodness may degenerate into the lowest degree of weakness, silence becomes approbation, and tenderness and delicacy deserve different names. He is unfit to be the friend of virtue who cannot defend her dignity; who dares not execute her vengeance. In this shameful affair, one circumstance does honour to Dr Johnson. _His friendship is not exhausted in a compliment._ He does not excite expectation merely to disappoint it. He resembles not some perfidious wretches, whom his intrepid eloquence hath so properly pointed out to public indignation. Exerting the generosity which often ennobles the character of an Englishman, he engages not his dependant in a performance for which he scruples to pay.