all honest means, however, no
man was more ready to avow: concealed poverty particularly, which he said
was the general corrosive that destroyed the peace of almost every
family; to which no evening perhaps ever returned without some new
project for hiding the sorrows and dangers of the next day. "Want of
money," says Dr. Johnson, "is sometimes concealed under pretended
avarice, and sly hints of aversion to part with it; sometimes under
stormy anger, and affectation of boundless rage, but oftener still under
a show of thoughtless extravagance and gay neglect, while to a
penetrating eye none of these wretched veils suffice to keep the cruel
truth from being seen. Poverty is hic et ubique," says he, "and if you
do shut the jade out of the door, she will always contrive in some manner
to poke her pale, lean face in at the window."

I have mentioned before that old age had very little of Mr. Johnson's
reverence. "A man commonly grew wickeder as he grew older," he said, "at
least he but changed the vices of youth; headstrong passion and wild
temerity, for treacherous caution, and desire to circumvent. I am
always," said he, "on the young people's side, when there is a dispute
between them and the old ones, for you have at least a chance for virtue
till age has withered its very root." While we were talking, my mother's
spaniel, whom he never loved, stole our toast and butter; "Fie, Belle!"
said I, "you used to be upon honour." "Yes, madam," replies Johnson,
"_but Belle grows old_." His reason for hating the dog was, "because she
was a professed favourite," he said, "and because her lady ordered her
from time to time to be washed and combed, a foolish trick," said he,
"and an assumption of superiority that every one's nature revolts at; so
because one must not wish ill to the lady in such cases," continued he,
"one curses the cur." The truth is, Belle was not well behaved, and
being a large spaniel, was troublesome enough at dinner with frequent
solicitations to be fed. "This animal," said Dr. Johnson one day, "would
have been of extraordinary merit and value in the state of Lycurgus; for
she condemns one to the exertion of perpetual vigilance."

He had, indeed, that strong aversion felt by all the lower ranks of
people towards four-footed companions very completely, notwithstanding he
had for many years a cat which he called Hodge, that kept always in his
room at Fleet Street; but so exact was he not to offend the