tay, therefore, till you are quite well. I am, for my
part, very much deserted; but complaint is useless. I hope GOD will
bless you, and I desire you to form the same wish for me.

'I am, dear Madam,

'Your most humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Feb. 4, 1782.'

'To EDMOND MALONE, ESQ.

'SIR,

'I have for many weeks been so much out of order, that I have gone out
only in a coach to Mrs. Thrale's, where I can use all the freedom that
sickness requires. Do not, therefore, take it amiss, that I am not with
you and Dr. Farmer. I hope hereafter to see you often.

'I am, Sir,

'Your most humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Feb. 27, 1782.'

To THE SAME.

'DEAR SIR,

'I hope I grow better, and shall soon be able to enjoy the kindness of
my friends. I think this wild adherence to Chatterton[447] more
unaccountable than the obstinate defence of Ossian. In Ossian there is a
national pride, which may be forgiven, though it cannot be applauded. In
Chatterton there is nothing but the resolution to say again what has
once been said.

'I am, Sir,

'Your humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'March 7, 1782.'

These short letters shew the regard which Dr. Johnson entertained for
Mr. Malone, who the more he is known is the more highly valued. It is
much to be regretted that Johnson was prevented from sharing the elegant
hospitality of that gentleman's table, at which he would in every
respect have been fully gratified. Mr. Malone, who has so ably
succeeded him as an Editor of Shakspeare, has, in his Preface, done
great and just honour to Johnson's memory.

'TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.

'DEAR MADAM,

'I went away from Lichfield ill, and have had a troublesome time with my
breath; for some weeks I have been disordered by a cold, of which I
could not get the violence abated, till I had been let blood three
times. I have not, however, been so bad but that I could have written,
and am sorry that I neglected it.

'My dwelling is but melancholy; both Williams, and Desmoulins, and
myself, are very sickly: Frank is not well; and poor Levett died in his
bed the other day, by a sudden stroke; I suppose not one minute passed
between health and death; so uncertain are human things.

'Such is the appearance of the world about me; I hope your scenes are
more cheerful. But whatever befalls us, though it is wise to be serious,
it is useless and foolish, and perhaps sinful, to be gloomy. Let us,
therefore, keep oursel