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Johnson's Life and Genius.

��In one day in particular, and that not a very long one, he wrote twelve pages, more in quantity than he ever wrote at any other time, except in the Life of Savage, of which forty-eight pages in octavo were the production of one long day, including a part of the night '.'

In the course of the conversation, he asked, whether any of the family of Faderi the printer were living. Being told that the geographer near Charing-cross was Faden's son, he said, after a short pause, ' I borrowed a guinea of his father near thirty years

Wishing to discharge every duty, and every obligation, Johnson recollected another debt of ten pounds, which he had borrowed from his friend Mr. Hamilton 3 the printer, about twenty years before. He sent the money to Mr. Hamilton at his house in Bedford Row, with an apology for the length of time. The Reverend Mr. Strahan was the bearer of the message, about four or five days before Johnson breathed his last.

Mr. Sastres (whom Dr. Johnson esteemed and mentioned in his will 4 ) entered the room during his illness. Dr. Johnson, as soon as he saw him, stretched forth his hand, and, in a tone of lamentation, called out, JAM MORITURUS 5 ! But the love of life

��1 ' I wrote forty-eight of the printed octavo pages of the Life of Savage at a sitting; but then I sat up all night. I have also written six sheets in a day of translation from the French.' Life, v. 67. Six sheets would be ninety-six octavo pages.

2 Ib. iv. 440; Nichols's Lit. Anec., ii. 554. Faden the printer was the editor of The Literary Magazine, for which Johnson wrote in 1756. Hawkins, p. 252.

3 Ante, p. 412.

4 ' To Mr. Sastres, the Italian master, the sum of five pounds to be laid out in books of piety for his own use.' Life, iv. 402, n. 2.

5 Hawkins records on December

��13 (p. 590) : ' At eight in the even ing word was brought me by Mr. Sastres, to whom in his last moments he uttered these words, "Jam mori- turus," that at a quarter past seven he had without a groan, or the least sign of pain or uneasiness, yielded his last breath.'

According to the account which Boswell had received, the last words he uttered were to a young lady, who asked his blessing. ' He turned him self in his bed and said, " God bless you, my dear." ' Life, iv. 418. That his words to her were not quite his last words is shown by Mr. Hoole's account. Croker's Boswell, ix. 191.

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