first in Southwark, and, for a short time before Thrale's death, in Grosvenor Square. Thrale was a sensible man, with some scholarship as well as knowledge of business, and a delight, according to Madame d'Arblay (Memoirs of Burney, ii. 104), in ‘provoking a war of words,’ which Johnson frequently gratified. He was, however, rather given to foolish speculations, and in his last years, when his mind was probably weakened, became troublesome to his wife. Johnson learned to drop some of his roughness and irregular habits at the house. His presence naturally attracted literary society, and Mrs. Thrale was flattered by her power over the literary dictator. Johnson, who called her ‘my mistress’ and Thrale ‘my master,’ was alternately a wise monitor and a tolerably daring flatterer, while Thrale invariably treated him with profound respect. They soothed, as he said long afterwards, ‘twenty years of a life radically wretched.’
Johnson's intellectual activity henceforward found its chief outlet in conversation. To the inimitable reports of Boswell may be added the sayings reported by Mrs. Piozzi (though obviously not very accurate), the excellent descriptions in Mme. d'Arblay's ‘Diary,’ and a variety of detached sayings scattered through works to which a reference is given below. His interview with George III, especially valued by Boswell, took place in February 1767 (Boswell, ii. 33–43); that with Wilkes, which showed Boswell's diplomatic powers at their highest, on 15 May 1776 (ib. iii. 69–78); and that in which the quaker Mrs. Knowles claimed to have confuted him in an argument about a convert to her faith, on 15 April 1778 (ib. iii. 284–98). Mrs. Knowles published a counter-version of this in the ‘Gentleman's Magazine’ for June 1791 (reprinted in ‘Johnsoniana’), and Miss Seward gave a third account (Letters, i. 97). The quaintest proof of Johnson's dictatorship is the ‘round-robin’ presented to him in 1776 to request him to write Goldsmith's epitaph in English (facsimile in Boswell, iii. 83), written by Burke, presented by Reynolds, and signed (among others) by Gibbon. Nearly every distinguished man of letters of the period came more or less into contact with Johnson, except David Hume, to whom he would hardly have consented to speak, and Gray, whose acquaintance in town was limited to the Walpole circle. Walpole speaks of Johnson with aversion, and doubtless expressed the prejudices of ‘good society.’ ‘Great lords and ladies,’ said Johnson (Boswell, iv. 116), ‘don't love to have their mouths stopped.’ Their curiosity was therefore soon satisfied, and, in spite of his reverence for rank, he saw little of the leaders in society or politics.
In October 1765 Johnson had at last brought out his Shakespeare, which he describes as at press in 1757. A sneer in Churchill's ‘Ghost’ (1763) is supposed to have hastened the appearance:
He for subscribers baits his hook,
And takes their cash—but where's the book?
(bk. iii. ll. 801–2). The commentary may perhaps be said to be better than could have been expected from a man whose strong intellect, unprovided with the necessary knowledge of contemporary authors, was steeped in the narrow conceptions of poetry most unlike Shakespeare's, and too indolent for minute study. He received 375l. for the first and 100l. for the second edition (Nichols, Lit. Anecd. v. 597). After this, besides occasionally helping friends and writing his ‘Tour to the Hebrides’ (see below), he did little until he wrote the most permanently valuable of his books. On 29 May 1777 he agreed with the booksellers to write prefaces for a proposed collection of the English poets. They judiciously asked him to name his own price. He suggested two hundred guineas, though, according to Malone, they would have given one thousand or fifteen hundred (Boswell, iii. 114). Another 100l. was given afterwards, and a further 100l. on the publication of a separate edition of the lives (ib. iv. 35). The poets were selected by the booksellers, though Blackmore, Watts, Pomfret, and Yalden were added on Johnson's advice. The first four volumes appeared in 1779, the last six in 1781. They include a reprint of the life of Savage and a life of Young by Sir Herbert Croft (1751–1816) [q. v.] Johnson's mannerism had become less marked; and the book, except in the matter of antiquarian research, is a model of its kind. Of all his writings this falls least behind his conversation in excellence, and is admirable within the limits of his critical perception.
Johnson's pension enabled him to indulge in frequent excursions from London. Though constantly expressing his passion for London (e.g. ‘when a man is tired of London he is tired of life, for there is in London all that life can afford’) (ib. iii. 178), he often showed interest in travel. His journeys consisted chiefly of visits to Oxford and Lichfield, and to Dr. Taylor at Ashbourne, where he discussed his old friend's bulls and bulldogs. He enjoyed the motion, and said that he should like to spend his life ‘driving briskly in a post-chaise with a pretty woman’ (ib. iii. 162). His chief performance, however, was his journey with Boswell in 1773. Leaving
