te literature
And was ever ready to assist his friends
labouring under any difficulties,
with his advice, his influence, and his purse.
To his friends, acquaintance, and guests,
he behaved with such sweetness of manners
as to attach them all to his person:
So happy in his conversation with them,
as to please all, though he flattered none.
He was born in the year 1724, and died in 1781.
In the same tomb lie interred his father,
Ralph Thrale, a man of vigour and activity,
And his only son Henry, who died before his father,
Aged ten years.

Thus a happy and opulent family,
Raised by the grandfather, and augmented by the
father, became extinguished with the grandson.
Go, Reader!
And reflecting on the vicissitudes of
all human affairs,
Meditate on eternity.

I never recollect to have heard that Dr. Johnson wrote inscriptions for
any sepulchral stones except Dr. Goldsmith's, in Westminster Abbey, and
these two in Streatham Church. He made four lines once on the death of
poor Hogarth, which were equally true and pleasing. I know not why
Garrick's were preferred to them.

"The hand of him here torpid lies,
That drew th' essential form of grace;
Here clos'd in death th' attentive eyes,
That saw the manners in the face."

Mr. Hogarth, among the variety of kindnesses shown to me when I was too
young to have a proper sense of them, was used to be very earnest that I
should obtain the acquaintance, and if possible the friendship, of Dr.
Johnson, whose conversation was, to the talk of other men, "like Titian's
painting compared to Hudson's," he said: "but don't you tell people, now,
that I say so," continued he, "for the connoisseurs and I are at war, you
know; and because I hate _them_, they think I hate _Titian_--and let
them!" Many were indeed the lectures I used to have in my very early
days from dear Mr. Hogarth, whose regard for my father induced him,
perhaps, to take notice of his little girl, and give her some odd
particular directions about dress, dancing, and many other matters,
interesting now only because they were his. As he made all his talents,
however, subservient to the great purposes of morality, and the earnest
desire he had to mend mankind, his discourse commonly ended in an ethical
dissertation, and a serious charge to me, never to forget his picture of
the "Lady's last Stake." Of Dr. Johnson, when my father and he were