hundred poor dependents, whose appealing looks, perhaps, were the hardest of all pains for him to bear, devising fevered plans for the morrow, new histories, new comedies, all sorts of new literary schemes, flying from all these into seclusion, and out of seclusion into pleasure-at last, at five-andforty, death closed his career.

I have been many a time in the chambers of the Temple which were his, and passed up the staircase, which Johnson, and Burke, and Reynolds trod to see their friend, their poet, their kind Goldsmith-the stair on which the poor women sat weeping bitterly when they heard that the greatest and most generous of all men was dead within the black oak door; "they had no friend but him they had come to weep for."

Ah! it was a different lot from that for which the poor fellow sighed, when he wrote, with heart yearning for home, those most charming of all fond verses, in which he fancies he revisits Auburn:

"In all my wanderings round this world of care,
In all my griefs-and God has given my share—
I still had hopes my latest hours to crown,
Amid these humble bowers to lay me down;
To husband out life's taper at the close,
And keep the flame from wasting, by repose;

I still had hopes-for pride attends me still-
Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill;
Around my fire an evening group to draw,

And tell of all I felt, and all I saw;

And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue,
Pants to the place from whence at first she flew-

I still had hopes-my long vexations past-
Here to return, and die at home at last."

Think of him, reckless, thriftless, vain, if you like-but merciful, gentle, generous, full of love and pity. He passes out of our life, and goes to render his account beyond it. Think of the poor

pensioners weeping at his grave! think of the noble spirits that admired and deplored him! think of the righteous pen that wrote his epitaph! and of the wonderful and unanimous response of affection with which the world has paid back the love he gave it.

His humor delighting us still; his songs as fresh and beautiful as when he first charmed with it; his words in every mouth; his very weaknesses beloved and familiar-his benevolent spirit seems still to shine upon us; to do gentle kindness; to succor with sweet charity; to soothe, caress, and forgive; to plead with the fortunate for the unhappy and the poor.

THACKERAY.

Samuel Johnson was born and educated in Lichfield, where his father was a country bookseller of some eminence, since he belonged to its magistracy. He was born September 18, 1709. His schooldays were spent in his native city, and his education completed at Pembroke College, Oxford. Of gigantic strength of body and mighty powers of

mind, he was afflicted with that nameless disease on the spirits, which often rendered the latter useless; and externally deformed by a scrofulous complaint, the scars of which disfigured his otherwise strong and sensible countenance.

Of all the men distinguished in this or any other age, Dr. Johnson has left upon posterity the strongest and most vivid impression, so far as person, manners, disposition, and conversation are concerned.

We do but name him, or open a book which he has written, and the sound and action recall to the imagination at once, his form, his merits, his peculiarities, - nay, the very uncouthness of his gestures, and the deep, impressive tone of his voice. We learn not only what he said, but form an idea how he said it; and have, at the same time, a shrewd guess of the secret motive why he did so, and whether he spoke in sport or in anger, in the desire of conviction, or for the love of debate.

It was said of a noted wag, that his witty sayings did not give full satisfaction when published, because he could not print his face. But with respect to Dr. Johnson, this has been in some degree accomplished; and, although the greater part of the present generation never saw him, yet he is, in our mind's eye, a personification as lively as that of Siddons in "Lady Macbeth," or Kemble in "Cardinal Wolsey."

Johnson's laborious and distinguished career terminated in 1783, when virtue was deprived of a steady supporter, society of a brilliant ornament, and literature of a successful cultivator. The latter part of his life was honored with general applause, for none was more fortunate in obtaining and pre

serving the friendship of the wise and the worthy. Thus loved and venerated, Johnson might have been pronounced happy. But Heaven, in whose eyes strength is weakness, permitted his faculties to be clouded occasionally with that morbid affection of the spirits, which disgraced his talents by prejudices, and his manners by rudeness.

When we consider the rank which Dr. Johnson held, not only in literature but in society, we cannot help figuring him to ourselves, as the benevolent giant of some fairy tale, whose kindnesses and courtesies are still mingled with a part of the rugged ferocity imputed to the fabulous sons of Anak; ̧ or rather, perhaps, like a Roman dictator, fetched from his farm, whose business and heroism still relished of his rustic occupation.

And there were times when, with all Johnson's wisdom and all his wit, this rudeness of disposition, and the sacrifices and submissions which he unsparingly exacted, were so great, that even his kind and devoted admirer, Mrs. Thrale, seems at length to have thought that the honor of being Johnson's hostess was almost counterbalanced by the tax which he exacted on her time and patience.

The cause of those deficiencies in temper and manners was not ignorance of what was fit to be done in society, or how far each individual ought to suppress his own wishes in favor of those with whom he associates; for, theoretically, no man understood the rules of good-breeding better than Dr. Johnson, or could act more exactly in conformity with them, when the high rank of those with whom he was in company, for the time, required that he should put the necessary constraint upon himself. But, during the greater part of his

life, he had been, in a great measure, a stranger to the higher society in which such restraint is necessary.

It must be also remarked that, in Johnson's time, the literary society of London was much more confined than at present, and that he sat the Jupiter of a little circle, somtimes, indeed, nodding approbation, but always prompt, on the slightest. contradiction, to launch the thunders of rebuke and sarcasm. He was, in a word, despotic, and despotism will occasionally lead the best disposition into unbecoming abuse of power.

It is not likely that any one will again enjoy, or have an opportunity of abusing, the singular degree of submission which was rendered to Johnson by all around him. The unreserved communications of friends, rather than the spleen of enemies, have occasioned his character's being exposed in all its shadows as well as its lights. But those, when summed and counted, amount only to a few narrow-minded prejudices concerning country and party, from which few ardent tempers remain entirely free; an over-zeal in politics, which is an ordinary attribute of the British character; and some violence and solecisms in manners which left his talents, morals, and benevolence, alike unimpeachable.

WALTER SCOTT.

Spell and pronounce :-gigantic, gestures, shrewd, prejudices, giant, fairy, rugged, ferocity, Jupiter, sarcasm, theoretically, spleen, unimpeachable, counterbalanced, launch, and despotic.

Give synonyms for vivid, deficiency, exacted, ornament, imputed, and despotism.