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tions obtained from friends; and this, he would add, "is one of the thousand reasons which ought to restrain a man from drony solitude and useless retirement." We are accustomed to think of

Johnson only in connection with literature: it is very beautiful, in addition, to recognise him in the character of a philanthropist, bringing upon him the blessing of them that were ready to perish, and making the widow's heart to sing for joy. The healing of wounded hearts, and the assuagement of smarting sorrows, attract less attention than the prizes won in the stadium of scholarship, or than the bays which adorn the brows of genius; and yet we all know there are records kept of the former (when performed from right motives) in a world where the latter distinctions are overlooked as things of nought. Johnson's intellectual efforts deny imitation, but his quiet benevolence is within the reach of every

one.

The penetralia of Johnson's domestic retirement few were permitted to enter, the tavern and club room being the place where the literary world found access to their great oracle; but, as was fitting, Boswell was admitted to its mysteries, and he has left on record an account of dining in Johnson's-court, written in a way that indicates how rare and distinguished was the privilege. "April 11th, being Easter Sunday, after having attended divine service at St. Paul's, I repaired to Dr. Johnson's. I had gratified my curiosity much in dining with Jean Jacques Rousseau, while he lived in the wilds of Neufchatel: I had as great a curiosity to dine with Dr. Samuel Johnson, in the dusty recess of a court in Fleetstreet. I supposed we should scarcely have knives and forks, and only some strange, uncouth, ill-dressed dish; but I found every thing in very good order. We had no other company than Mrs. Williams, and a young woman whom I did not know. As a dinner here was considered a singular phenomenon, and as I was frequently interrogated on the subject, my readers may perhaps be desirous to

know our bill of fare. Foote, I remember, in allusion to Francis the negro, was willing to suppose that our repast was black broth; but the fact was, that we had very good soup, a boiled leg of lamb and spinach, a veal pie, and a rice pudding." Whether there were plums and sugar in the pie he does not say; but it is most likely there were, as these were, with Johnson, favourite ingredients in that dish.

It may be added that the privilege of dining with the philosopher was preceded by the opportunity of breakfasting with him on the Good Friday before, when Boswell tells us they had tea and hotcross buns; Dr. Levett, as Frank called him, presiding at table. “He carried me with him," Boswell goes on to inform us, "to the church of St. Clement Danes, where he had his seat, and his behaviour was, as I had imagined to myself, solemnly devout. I never shall forget the tremulous earnestness with which he pronounced the awful petition in the Litany, "In the hour of death, and at the day of judgment, good Lord, deliver us."" The seat which he occupied in the north gallery, near the pulpit, is still pointed out,* and there one sees his shadow under circumstances which recall some of the most solemn moments of his earthly existence; for never does the soul so assert its immortality, and come so consciously near to the edge of the invisible realms, as when truly engaged in the worship of God, and earnestly hearing and reflecting upon the momentous truths of the gospel. We know no associations more affecting than those which take this form. Here listened and worshipped a distinguished mind, that is now gone into the world of awful wonder, which then awakened curiosity and solicitude. Here he thought of those realms of being into which he has been long since introduced; here he dwelt upon his relationship to that glorious Being in whose presence he has appeared; here he speculated with fear and trembling on what * A brass plate has been recently affixed to it, intimating that there Johnson sat.

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would be his present condition and employments. What a change has the revelation of the secrets of eternity produced in his experience!

Johnson's fame was widely spread. He came to be one of the greatest notabilities of his day. Many of the great revered him, and on one occasion royalty commanded an interview. It took place in the royal library of Buckingham House; a full report of it is preserved, which previous to publication was perused and approved by the king himself. A long conversation occurred on divers literary topics, Johnson feeling himself a monarch in that domain, and the sovereign fully acknowledging his authority there. Thorough manliness marked the interview on both sides, and did credit to both parties. A remark which Johnson made about a royal compliment which he received, is very amusing. He said he thought he had written too much. "I should have thought so too," said the king, " if you had not written so well." "No man," said the flattered author, "could have paid a handsomer compliment; it was fit for a king to pay. It was, decisive." When asked whether he made a reply, he observed, "No, sir: when the king had said it, it was to be so. It was not for me to bandy civilities with my sovereign." The monarch was George III., and it is not a little curious that Johnson should have been also in the presence of two personages so far removed from each other in point of time as Queen Anne and George IV. He was taken to the former to be touched for the scrofula; that superstitious practice, though on the decline, having not quite died out, for two hundred persons were touched when he was. Being asked if he remembered the queen, he said, "he had a confused but somehow a sort of solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, and a long black hood" -one of the most picturesque views of her majesty, by the way, we ever remember having seen. George IV., when a little boy, was introduced to Johnson, who took the opportunity of asking

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