succeeded by our marriage.

"I have the honour to be, Sir, your obedient servant.

"Bath, June 30, 1784."

No. 3.[1]

[Footnote 1: What Johnson termed an "adumbration" of this letter
appeared in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for Dec. 1784:

"MADAM,--If you are already ignominiously married, you are lost
beyond all redemption;--if you are not, permit me one hour's
conversation, to convince you that such a marriage must not take
place. If, after a whole hour's reasoning, you should not be
convinced, you will still be at liberty to act as you think proper. I
have been extremely ill, and am still ill; but if you grant me the
audience I ask, I will instantly take a post-chaise and attend you at
Bath. Pray do not refuse this favour to a man who hath so many years
loved and honoured you."]

"MADAM,--If I interpret your letter right, you are ignominiously
married: if it is yet undone, let us _once_ more _talk_ together. If
you have abandoned your children and your religion, God forgive your
wickedness; if you have forfeited your fame and your country, may
your folly do no further mischief. If the last act is yet to do, I
who have loved you, esteemed you, reverenced you, and _served
you_[1], I who long thought you the first of womankind, entreat that,
before your fate is irrevocable, I may once more see you. I was, I
once was, Madam, most truly yours,

"SAM. JOHNSON.

"July 2, 1784.

"I will come down, if you permit it."

[Footnote 1: The four words which I have printed in italics are
indistinctly written, and cannot be satisfactorily made out.]

No. 4.

"July 4, 1784.

"SIR,--I have this morning received from you so rough a letter in
reply to one which was both tenderly and respectfully written, that I
am forced to desire the conclusion of a correspondence which I can
bear to continue no longer. The birth of my second husband is not
meaner than that of my first; his sentiments are not meaner; his
profession is not meaner, and his superiority in what he professes
acknowledged by all mankind. It is want of fortune, then, that is
ignominious; the character of the man I have chosen has no other
claim to such an epithet. The religion to which he has been always a
zealous adherent will, I hope, teach him to forgive insults he has
not deserved; mine will, I hope, enable me to bear them at once with
dignity and patience. To hear that I have forfeited my fame is indeed
the greatest insult I ever yet received. My fam