Mr. G------ is a small, smooth, and pretty young man, not emphasized in
any way; but grief threw its awfulness about him to-day in a degree which
I should not have expected.
January 20th.--Mr. Steele, a gentleman of Rock Ferry, showed me this
morning a pencil-case formerly belonging to Dr. Johnson. It is six or
seven inches long, of large calibre, and very clumsily manufactured of
iron, perhaps plated in its better days, but now quite bare. Indeed, it
looks as rough as an article of kitchen furniture. The intaglio on the
end is a lion rampant. On the whole, it well became Dr. Johnson to have
used such a stalwart pencil-case. It had a six-inch measure on a part of
it, so that it must have been at least eight inches long. Mr. Steele
says he has seen a cracked earthen teapot, of large size, in which Miss
Williams used to make tea for Dr. Johnson.
God himself cannot compensate us for being born for any period short of
eternity. All the misery endured here constitutes a claim for another
life, and, still more, all the happiness; because all true happiness
involves something more than the earth owns, and needs something more
than a mortal capacity for the enjoyment of it.
After receiving an injury on the head, a person fancied all the rest of
his life that he heard voices flouting, jeering, and upbraiding him.
February 19th.--I dined with the Mayor at the Town Hall last Friday
evening. I sat next to Mr. W.
Pages:
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170