“DEAREST MADAM,—­I think to send you for some time a regular diary.  You will forgive the gross images which disease must necessarily present.  Dr. Lawrence said that medical treatises should be always in Latin.  The two vesicatories did not perform well,” &c. &c.

“June 23, 1783.

“Your offer, dear Madam, of coming to me, is charmingly kind; but I will lay it up for future use, and then let it not be considered as obsolete; a time of dereliction may come, when I may have hardly any other friend, but in the present exigency I cannot name one who has been deficient in civility or attention.  What man can do for man has been done for me.  Write to me very often.”

That the offer was serious and heartfelt, is clear from “Thraliana”: 

“Bath, June 24th, 1783.—­A stroke of the palsy has robbed Johnson of his speech, I hear.  Dreadful event! and I at a distance.  Poor fellow!  A letter from himself, in his usual style, convinces me that none of his faculties have failed, and his physicians say that all present danger is over.”

He writes: 

“June 24th, 1783.

“Both Queeny’s letter and yours gave me, to-day, great pleasure.  Think as well and as kindly of me as you can, but do not flatter me.  Cool reciprocations of esteem are the great comforts of life; hyberbolical praise only corrupts the tongue of the one, and the ear of the other.”

“June 28th, 1783.

“Your letter is just such as I desire, and as from you I hope always to deserve.”

Her own state of mind at this time may be collected from “Thraliana”: 

“June, 1783.—­Most sincerely do I regret the sacrifice I have made of health, happiness, and the society of a worthy and amiable companion, to the pride and prejudice of three insensible girls, who would see nature perish without concern ... were their gratification the cause.

“The two youngest have, for ought I see, hearts as impenetrable as their sister.  They will all starve a favourite animal—­all see with unconcern the afflictions of a friend; and when the anguish I suffered on their account last winter, in Argyll Street, nearly took away my life and reason, the younger ridiculed as a jest those agonies which the eldest despised as a philosopher.  When all is said, they are exceeding valuable girls—­beautiful in person, cultivated in understanding, and well-principled in religion:  high in their notions, lofty in their carriage, and of intents equal to their expectations; wishing to raise their own family by connections with some more noble ... and superior to any feeling of tenderness which might clog the wheels of ambition.  What, however, is my state? who am condemned to live with girls of this disposition? to teach without authority; to be heard without esteem; to be considered by them as their superior in fortune, while I live by the money borrowed from them; and in good sense, when they have seen me submit my judgment to theirs at the hazard of my life and wits.  Oh, ’tis a pleasant situation! and whoever would wish, as the Greek lady phrased it, to teize himself and repent of his sins, let him borrow his children’s money, be in love against their interest and prejudice, forbear to marry by their advice, and then shut himself up and live with them."[1]