ted violoncello, and he
practises in what he has made the back drawing-room, equivalent to
Johnson's best bed; but, the other day, when Smith came up from
Birmingham to see Johnson, he could get no sleep for the first half of
the night, Bramante having occasion to practise till nearly one o'clock,
for the _Stabat Mater_ of next morning's concert. So much for the
substantiality of Johnson's town-house. His rooms, too, to our mind, are
of bad proportions, and most inconveniently situated; they are so low
that it is impossible to ventilate them properly; he has always a flight
or two of stairs to go up when he retires to bed, and his servants might
as well live in a treadmill, for the quantity of step-treading that they
have to perform. There is no possibility of sitting in any one room out
of a draft from either door or window, and there is not a single good
cupboard in the whole house. As for ornament, there is none outside save
the brass-knocker on the street door, for the windows are plain oblong
holes in the walls; and, as for the inside, the only attempts at it are
the cheap and meagre stucco patterns of the cornices, and the somewhat
tawdry designs of the paper-hangings. He pays seventy pounds a-year rent
for it, however, and sets himself down as a lucky man, because with his
rates, &c., he comes within the hundred.

After all, when he goes to Brighton he is not much better off; though,
as he likes fresh air, he gets plenty of it there, through every window,
door, and chimney of the house--for there the bow-windowed projection in
front is made of wood, coated over with tiles, to look like bricks.
There he never attempted any picture-hanging fancies, the
partition-walls would stand no such liberties being taken with them;
there he cannot complain of not knowing what is going on in the town,
for he can hear all that is said in the next house, by merely putting
his ear to the wall. The most serious drawback, however, to his comfort
in his marine residence, is, that while there he can never have a
good-sized dinner-party, inasmuch as his landlord made it a stipulation
of the lease, that not more than twelve people should be allowed to meet
in the drawing-room at the same time, and that no dancing whatever
should be attempted within the dwelling. The Brighton man only built the
house for fifteen years; whereas the London one was more provident, he
guaranteed his for thirty.

Johnson's bed-rooms are, even the best of the