to the character which he had established
throughout Europe by his writings. For this purpose, Boswell addressed
an application to the Ministry, through Lord Thurlow, who was then
Chancellor. After some accidental delay, and some unsuccessful
negotiation on the part of Lord Thurlow, who was well disposed to
befriend him, during which time Johnson was again buoyed up with the
prospect of visiting Italy, an answer was returned which left him no
reason to expect from Government any further assistance than that which
he was then receiving in the pension already granted him. This refusal
the Chancellor accompanied with a munificent offer of supply out of his
own purse, which he endeavoured to convey in such a manner as should
least alarm the independent spirit of Johnson. "It would be a reflection
on us all, (said Thurlow,) if such a man should perish for want of the
means to take care of his health." The abilities of Thurlow had always
been held in high estimation by Johnson, who had been heard to say of
him, "I would prepare myself for no man in England but Lord Thurlow.
When I am to meet with him, I should wish to know a day before." One
day, while this scheme was pending, Johnson being at the house of Sir
Joshua Reynolds, was overcome by the tenderness of his friends, and by
the near view, as he thought, of this long-hoped Italian tour being
effected, and exclaimed with much emotion, "God bless you all;" and
then, after a short silence, again repeating the words in a form yet
more solemn, was no longer able to command his feelings, but hurried
away to regain his composure in solitude.

After all these efforts, Johnson was fated to disappointment; and the
authors of his disappointment have incurred the sentence denounced on
them by the humanity of Thurlow. In this, Dr. Brocklesby, the physician,
has no share; for by him a noble offer of L100 a year was made to
Johnson during his life.

In the meantime he had paid the summer visit, which had now become
almost an annual one to his daughter-in-law, at Lichfield, from whence
he made an excursion to Dr. Taylor's, at Ashbourne, and to Chatsworth,
still labouring under his asthma, but willing to believe that as Floyer,
the celebrated physician of his native city, had been allowed to pant on
till near ninety, so he might also yet pant on a little longer. Whilst
he was on this journey, he translated an ode of Horace, and composed
several prayers. As he passed through Birmingham