Bute made it distinct and clear that the gift came without conditions; that it was given for what he had already done, not for anything they expected him to do. No doubt Government knew that should occasion arise the mighty pen of JOHNSON, "the last of the Tories," would be wielded on the side of loyalty and authority, as afterwards it really Says Carlyle: "If England has escaped the blood-bath of a French Revolution; and may yet in virtue of this delay, and of the experience it has given, work out her deliverance calmly into a new era, let SAMUEL JOHNSON, beyond all contemporary or succeeding men, have the praise for it."

was.

JOHNSON has now reached a new epoch in his life. He is no longer to live as Roger Ascham says the wits do, "Men know not how, and at last die obscurely, men mark not where." He now stands before us the JOHNSON of history, past his prime; almost done with his literary work; rich in purse and rich in friends. In further delineating JOHNSON'S character, we shall now consider him, in connection with some of his more illustrious friends,

who played such a prominent part with him in his twenty years of literary dictatorship.

were

The first friend that we shall mention is Garrick. They were both natives of the same Cathedral City, "whose inhabitants," said JOHNSON, more orthodox in their religion, more pure in their language, and more polite in their manners, than any other town in the kingdom." Garrick was a pupil of JOHNSON in the days of his pedagogacy. When he came to London JOHNSON helped him. He encouraged him in his dark days of struggle, and restrained him in his bright days of triumph, when he was receiving the acclamations of the populace. They had much that attracted each other, and they had much that repelled each other, and were jocularly known as "the Bear and the Monkey."

JOHNSON, says Reynolds, looked upon Garrick as his own private property, and would allow no one to praise or blame him without contradiction. In his less amiable moments JOHNSON seems to have been a little envious of the fame and fortune of Garrick, and sometimes spoke slightingly of him

and his profession. Indeed, he despised the profession of an actor. When Boswell, knowing his prejudice against actors, ventured to say that "we ought to respect a great player." "What, sir," said JOHNSON, "a fellow that claps a humph upon his back, and a lump upon his leg, and cries, 'I am Richard the Third!' Nay, sir, a ballad singer is a higher man, for he does two things: he speaks and he sings, there is both recitation and music in his performance; the player only recites. I look upon players as no better than dancing dogs. "But, sir, you will allow that some players are better than others?" "Yes, sir, as some dogs. dance better than others."

One evening at a dinner party Mrs. Thrale said, "Nothing is so fatiguing as the life of a wit. Garrick and Wilkes are the oldest men of their age that I know; for they have both worn themselves out prematurely by being eternally on the rack to entertain others." David, madam," said the Doctor, "looks much older than he is, because his face has had double the business of any other man's. It is never at rest. When he speaks one

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minute he has quite a different countenance to that which he assumes the next. I do not believe he ever kept the same look for half-an-hour together in the whole course of his life. And such a perpetual play of muscles must certainly wear a man's face out before his time."

Garrick, who was ever fond of a practical joke, one day desired Reynolds to paint his portrait. When sitting for it, he changed his countenance so steadily and imperceptibly every moment, that it was impossible to catch the expression of his features, even under the keen glance of Sir Joshua, who tried again and again to do so, but in vain. At last disgusted, he threw down the brush, remarking that "it would be easier to paint a portrait of the devil himself." There is a witty satirical story of Foote. He had a small bust of Garrick placed upon his bureau. "You may be surprised," said he, "that I allow him to be so near my gold; but, you will observe, he has no hands."

In spite, however, of these sarcastic remarks, JOHNSON and Garrick were good friends. Indeed, to see JOHNSON at his best you must see him with

Garrick, who could trot him out splendidly in conversation. Says Garrick to him one day, "Why did you not make me a Tory when we lived so much together?" "Why," says JOHNSON, pulling a heap of half-pence from his pocket, "did not the king make these guineas." They had now and again, however, slight misunderstandings, as all true friends have. When JOHNSON was writing the preface to Shakspeare, he seems to have thought that Garrick had acted unfriendly in not offering to send to his house his set of rare old plays. JOHNSON took his revenge by not mentioning Garrick's name in the preface. "When I asked him," says Boswell,

'why he did not mention him in the preface to his Shakspeare, he said, 'Garrick has been liberally paid for anything he has done for Shakspeare. If I should praise him, I should much more praise the nation who paid him. He has not made Shakspeare better known; he cannot illustrate Shakspeare: so I have reasons enough against mentioning him, were reasons necessary. There should be reasons for it." We have no doubt, whatever, that Garrick's refusal to place his books at JOHNSON'S d