r. Barrington, and chosen. I believe there are
few societies where there is better conversation or more
decorum, several of us resolved to continue it after our
great founder was removed by death. Other members were
added; and now, above eight years since that loss, we go on
happily.--BOSWELL.

In the end of this year he was seized with a spasmodick asthma of
such violence, that he was confined to the house in great pain, being
sometimes obliged to sit all night in his chair, a recumbent posture
being so hurtful to his respiration, that he could not endure lying in
bed; and there came upon him at the same time that oppressive and
fatal disease, a dropsy. It was a very severe winter, which probably
aggravated his complaints; and the solitude in which Mr. Levett and Mrs.
Williams had left him, rendered his life very gloomy. Mrs. Desmoulins,
who still lived, was herself so very ill, that she could contribute very
little to his relief. He, however, had none of that unsocial shyness
which we commonly see in people afflicted with sickness. He did not
hide his head from the world, in solitary abstraction; he did not deny
himself to the visits of his friends and acquaintances; but at all
times, when he was not overcome by sleep, was ready for conversation as
in his best days.

'TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.

'DEAR MADAM,--You may perhaps think me negligent that I have not
written to you again upon the loss of your brother; but condolences and
consolations are such common and such useless things, that the omission
of them is no great crime: and my own diseases occupy my mind,
and engage my care. My nights are miserably restless, and my days,
therefore, are heavy. I try, however, to hold up my head as high as I
can.

'I am sorry that your health is impaired; perhaps the spring and the
summer may, in some degree, restore it: but if not, we must submit to
the inconveniences of time, as to the other dispensations of Eternal
Goodness. Pray for me, and write to me, or let Mr. Pearson write for
you. I am, &c.

'London, Nov. 29, 1783.'

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

1784: AETAT. 75.]--And now I am arrived at the last year of the life
of SAMUEL JOHNSON, a year in which, although passed in severe
indisposition, he nevertheless gave many evidences of the continuance
of those wondrous powers of mind, which raised him so high in the
intellectual world. His conversation and his letters of this year were
in no