DEAR SIR,--I have been kept away from you, I know not well how, and
of these vexatious hindrances I know not when there will be an end.
I therefore send you the poor dear Doctor's epitaph. Read it first
yourself; and if you then think it right, shew it to the Club. I am, you
know, willing to be corrected. If you think any thing much amiss, keep
it to yourself, till we come together. I have sent two copies, but
prefer the card. The dates must be settled by Dr. Percy. I am, Sir, your
most humble servant,
'May 16, 1776.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
It was, I think, after I had left London this year, that this Epitaph
gave occasion to a Remonstrance to the MONARCH OF LITERATURE, for an
account of which I am indebted to Sir William Forbes, of Pitsligo.
That my readers may have the subject more fully and clearly before them,
I shall first insert the Epitaph.