d be more fortunate for Johnson than this connection. He
had at Mr. Thrale's all the comforts and even luxuries of life;
his melancholy was diverted, and his irregular habits lessened by
association with an agreeable and well-ordered family. He was treated
with the utmost respect, and even affection. The vivacity of Mrs.
Thrale's literary talk roused him to cheerfulness and exertion, even
when they were alone. But this was not often the case; for he found
here a constant succession of what gave him the highest enjoyment: the
society of the learned, the witty, and the eminent in every way, who
were assembled in numerous companies, called forth his wonderful powers,
and gratified him with admiration, to which no man could be insensible.

In the October of this year he at length gave to the world his edition
of Shakspeare, which, if it had no other merit but that of producing his
Preface, in which the excellencies and defects of that immortal bard are
displayed with a masterly hand, the nation would have had no reason to
complain.

In 1764 and 1765 it should seem that Dr. Johnson was so busily employed
with his edition of Shakspeare, as to have had little leisure for any
other literary exertion, or, indeed, even for private correspondence.
He did not favour me with a single letter for more than two years, for
which it will appear that he afterwards apologised.

He was, however, at all times ready to give assistance to his friends,
and others, in revising their works, and in writing for them, or greatly
improving their Dedications. In that courtly species of composition no
man excelled Dr. Johnson. Though the loftiness of his mind prevented him
from ever dedicating in his own person, he wrote a very great number
of Dedications for others. Some of these, the persons who were favoured
with them are unwilling should be mentioned, from a too anxious
apprehension, as I think, that they might be suspected of having
received larger assistance; and some, after all the diligence I have
bestowed, have escaped my enquiries. He told me, a great many years ago,
'he believed he had dedicated to all the Royal Family round;' and it was
indifferent to him what was the subject of the work dedicated, provided
it were innocent. He once dedicated some Musick for the German Flute to
Edward, Duke of York. In writing Dedications for others, he considered
himself as by no means speaking his own sentiments.

I returned to London in February,* and