Our accidental meeting in the street after a long separation was
a pleasing surprize to us both. He stepped aside with me into
Falcon-court, and made kind inquiries about my family, and as we were
in a hurry going different ways, I promised to call on him next day;
he said he was engaged to go out in the morning. 'Early, Sir?' said I.
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, a London morning does not go with the sun.'
I waited on him next evening, and he gave me a great portion of his
original manuscript of his Lives of the Poets, which he had preserved
for me.
I found on visiting his friend, Mr. Thrale, that he was now very ill,
and had removed, I suppose by the solicitation of Mrs. Thrale, to a
house in Grosvenor-square. I was sorry to see him sadly changed in his
appearance.
He told me I might now have the pleasure to see Dr. Johnson drink
wine again, for he had lately returned to it. When I mentioned this
to Johnson, he said, 'I drink it now sometimes, but not socially.' The
first evening that I was with him at Thrale's, I observed he poured
a large quantity of it into a glass, and swallowed it greedily.
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