eaning Streatham.

Johnson to Mrs. Thrale:

"June 4th, 1782.

"This day I dined upon skate, pudding, goose, and your asparagus, and
could have eaten more, but was prudent. Pray for me, dear Madam; I
hope the tide has turned. The change that I feel is more than I durst
have hoped, or than I thought possible; but there has not yet passed
a whole day, and I may rejoice perhaps too soon. Come and see me, and
when you think best, upon due consideration, take me away."

From her to him:

"Streatham, June 14th, 1782.

"DEAR SIR,--I am glad you confess yourself peevish, for confession
must precede amendment. Do not study to be more unhappy than you are,
and if you can eat and sleep well, do not be frighted, for there can
be no real danger. Are you acquainted with Dr. Lee, the master of
Baliol College? And are you not delighted with his gaiety of manners
and youthful vivacity now that he is eighty-six years old? I never
heard a more perfect or excellent pun than his, when some one told
him how, in a late dispute among the Privy Counsellors, the Lord
Chancellor (Thurlow) struck the table with such violence that he
split it. 'No, no,' replied the Master, drily, 'I can hardly persuade
myself that he _split the table_, though I believe he _divided the
Board_.' Will you send me anything better from Oxford than this? for
there must be no more fastidiousness now; no more refusing to laugh
at a good quibble, when you so loudly profess the want of amusement
and the necessity of diversion."

From him to her:

"Oxford, June 17th, 1782.

"Oxford has done, I think, what for the present it can do, and I am
going slyly to take a place in the coach for Wednesday, and you or my
sweet Queeny will fetch me on Thursday, and see what you can make of
me."

Hannah More met him during this visit to Oxford, and writes, June
13th, 1782: "Who do you think is my principal cicerone at Oxford?
only Dr. Johnson! and we do so gallant it about."

Madame D'Arblay, then at Streatham, writes, June 26th, 1782: "Dr.
Johnson, who had been in town some days, returned, and Mr. Crutchley
came also, as well as my father." After describing some lively
conversation, she adds: "I have _very often_, though I mention them
not, long and melancholy discourses with Dr. Johnson, about our dear
deceased master, whom, indeed, he regrets unceasingly; but I love not
to dwell on subjects of sorrow when I can drive them away, especially
to you (her sister), upon this ac