and alamode beefshops, was far from delicate. Whenever he was so
fortunate as to have near him a hare that had been kept too long,
or a meat pie made with rancid butter, he gorged himself with
such violence that his veins swelled, and the moisture broke out
on his forehead. The affronts which his poverty emboldened
stupid and low-minded men to offer to him would have broken a
mean spirit into sycophancy, but made him rude even to ferocity.
Unhappily the insolence which, while it was defensive, was
pardonable, and in some sense respectable, accompanied him into
societies where he was treated with courtesy and kindness. He
was repeatedly provoked into striking those who had taken
liberties with him. All the sufferers, however, were wise enough
to abstain from talking about their beatings, except Osborne, the
most rapacious and brutal of booksellers, who proclaimed
everywhere that he had been knocked down by the huge fellow whom
he had hired to puff the Harleian Library.

About a year after Johnson had begun to reside in London, he was
fortunate enough to obtain regular employment from Cave, an
enterprising and intelligent bookseller, who was proprietor and
editor of the "Gentleman's Magazine." That journal, just
entering on the ninth year of its long existence, was the only
periodical work in the kingdom which then had what would now be
called a large circulation. It was, indeed, the chief source of
parliamentary intelligence. It was not then safe, even during a
recess, to publish an account of the proceedings of either House
without some disguise. Cave, however, ventured to entertain his
readers with what he called "Reports of the Debates of the Senate
of Lilliput." France was Blefuscu; London was Mildendo: pounds
were sprugs: the Duke of Newcastle was the Nardac secretary of