tivity." Upon mentioning that Mr. Thrale had daughters who might inherit his wealth-"Daughters!" said Johnson warmly, "he'll no more value his daughters than Boswell was going to speak. "Sir," said he, "don't you know how you yourself think? Sir, he wishes to propagate his name." In short, male succession was strong in his mind, even where there was no name, no family, of any long standing. Boswell said it was lucky he was not present when this misfortune happened. JOHNSON. "It is lucky for me. People in distress never think that you feel enough." BoswELL.". 'And, sir, they will have the hope of seeing you, which will be a relief in the mean time; and when you get to them, the pain will be so far abated that they will be capable of being consoled by you, which in the first violence of it, I believe, would not be the case." JOHNSON. "No, sir; violent pain of mind, like violent pain of body, must be severely felt." BOSWELL. "I own, sir, have not so much feeling for the distress of others as some people have, or pretend to have; but I know this, that I would do all in my power to relieve them." JOHNSON. "Sir, it is affectation to pretend to feel the distress of others as much as they do themselves. It is equally so, as if one should pretend to feel as much pain while a friend's leg is cutting off as he does. No, sir. You have expressed the rational and just nature of sympathy. I would have gone to the extremity of the earth to have preserved this boy." He soon regained his mental composure. The letter was from Mr. Thrale's clerk, and concluded with this remark: “I need not say how much they wish to see you in London." "After dinner," Boswell adds, "Dr. Johnson wrote a letter to Mrs. Thrale on the death of her son. I said it would be very distressing to Thrale, but she would soon forget it, as she had so many things to think of. JOHNSON. 'No, sir, Thrale will forget it first. She has many things that she may think of. He has many things that he must think of.' T "In the evening, we went to the Town-hall, which was converted into a temporary theatre, and saw Theodosius with The Stratford Jubilee. I was happy to see Dr. Johnson sitting in a conspicuous part of the pit, and receiving affectionate homage from all his acquaintance. We were quite gay and merry. I afterwards mentioned to him that I condemned myself for being so, when poor Mr. and Mrs. Thrale were in such distress. JOHNSON, 'You are wrong, sir. Twenty years hence Mr. and Mrs. Thrale will not suffer much pain from the death of their son. Now, sir, you are to consider that distance of place, as well as distance of time, operates upon the human feelings. I would not have you be gay in the presence of the distressed, because it would shock them; but you may be gay at a distance. Pain for the loss of a friend, or of a relation whom we love, is occasioned by the want which we feel. In time, the vacuity is filled with something else; or sometimes the vacuity closes up of itself.'" EPITAPH ON GOLDSMITH IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. OLIVARII GOLDSMITH, POETA, PHYSICI, HISTORICI, QUI NULLUM FERE SCRIBENDI GENUS NULLUM QUOD TETIGIT NON ORNAVIT: SIVE RISUS ESSENT MOVENDI, SIVE LACRYMÆ, AFFECTUUM POTENS AT LENIS DOMINATOR: SODALIUM Amor, AMICORUM FIDES, LECTORUM VENERATIO. NATUS IN HIBERNIA FORNIÆ LONGFORDIENSIS, EBLANCE LITERIS INSTITUTUS; OBIIT LONDINI APRIL IV. MDCCLXXIV. Epitaph inscribed on Mrs. Johnson's Tombstone in the Church of Bromley in Kent. HIC CONDUNTUR RELIQUIÆ ANTIQUÂ JARVISIORUM GENTE, PEATLINGE, APUD LEICESTRIENSES, ORTÆ; QUI MULTUM AMATAM, DIUQUE DEFLETAM OBIIT LONDINI, Mense Mart. A.D. MDCCLII. Inscription on a box wherein Johnson carefully preserved his wife's Wedding-ring. EHEU! ELIZ. JOHNSON, MORTUA EHEU! MART. 17° 1752. THE LETTER TO LORD CHESTERField. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF CHESTERField. February 7th, 1755. MY LORD, I have been lately informed by the proprietor of 'The World' that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the public, were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honour which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your Lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your address, and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself Le vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre; that I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending but I found my attendance so little encouraged that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your Lordship in public, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little. Seven years, my Lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward rooms or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it, at last, to the verge of publication without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron before. The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found him a native of the rocks. |