vast," and are chiefly remarkable for their bold, bad innovations on
that English tongue of which the author was piling up the standard
Dictionary. Many have dwelt severely on Johnson's inequalities,
without attending to their cause; that was unquestionably the "body of
death" which hung so heavily upon his system, and rendered writing at
times a positive torment. Let his fastidious critics remember that he
never spent a single day, of which he could say that he was entirely
well, and free from pain, and that his spirits were often so
depressed, that he was more than once seen on his knees, praying God
to preserve his understanding.

A great calamity now visited his household. This was the death of his
wife. She expired on the 17th of March 1752. She had been married to
him sixteen years; and notwithstanding the difference of age, and
other causes of disagreement, he seems to have loved her with
sincerity, and to have lamented her death with deep and long-continued
sorrow. He relaxed not, however, an instant in his literary labours,
continued the preparation of his Dictionary, and contributed a few
lively and vigorous papers to the "Adventurer"--a paper, edited by Dr
Hawkesworth, a writer of some talent, who did his best to tower up to
the measure and stature of the "Rambler."

During this time Johnson was filling his house with a colony of poor
dependants,--such as Mrs Anna Williams, a soured female poetaster; and
Levet, a tenth-rate medical peripatetic, who, as well as Hodge, the
great lexicographer's cat, and Francis Barber, his black servant, now
share in his immortality,--besides becoming acquainted with such men
of eminence as Reynolds, the inimitable painter; Bennet Langton, the
amiable and excellent country-gentleman; and Beauclerk, the smart and
witty "man about town." In 1755 (exactly a hundred years ago), Johnson