measured by more recent standards.

A day or two afterwards some one rallied Johnson on his appearance at
Mrs. Abingdon's benefit. "Why did you go?" he asked. "Did you see?" "No,
sir." "Did you hear?" "No, sir." "Why, then, sir, did you go?"
"Because, sir, she is a favourite of the public; and when the public
cares the thousandth part for you that it does for her, I will go to
your benefit too."

The day after, Boswell won a bet from Lady Di Beauclerk by venturing to
ask Johnson what he did with the orange-peel which he used to pocket.
Johnson received the question amicably, but did not clear the mystery.
"Then," said Boswell, "the world must be left in the dark. It must be
said, he scraped them, and he let them dry, but what he did with them
next he never could be prevailed upon to tell." "Nay, sir," replied
Johnson, "you should say it more emphatically--he could not be prevailed
upon, even by his dearest friends to tell."

This year Johnson received the degree of LL.D. from Oxford. He had
previously (in 1765) received the same honour from Dublin. It is
remarkable, however, that familiar as the title has become, Johnson
called himself plain Mr. to the end of his days, and was generally so
called by his intimates. On April 2nd, at a dinner at Hoole's, Johnson
made another assault upon Gray and Mason. When Boswell said that there
were good passages in Mason's _Elfrida_, he conceded that there were
"now and then some good imitations of Milton's bad manner." After some
more talk, Boswell spoke of the cheerfulness of Fleet Street. "Why,
sir," said Johnson, "Fleet Street has a very animated appearance, but I
think that the full tide of human existence is at Charing Cross." He
added a story of an eminent tallow-chandler who had made a fortune in