Poverty haunted Johnson all through life until 1762, when he was granted a pension of L300 a year by King George III, on the recommendation of Lord Bute, the Prime Minister, who, in making the offer, said:  “It is not given you for anything you are to do, but for what you have done.”  In the meantime Johnson had brought out his great Dictionary, at which he had worked for years in extreme poverty, and in the progress of which he had asked Lord Chesterfield to become his patron, in the hope that he would render him some financial assistance.  When he went to see him, however, he was kept waiting for over an hour, while his lordship amused himself by conversing with some second-rate mortal named “Colley Cibber,” and when this man came out, and Johnson saw who it was for whom he had been kept waiting, he hurriedly and indignantly took his departure.  When his Dictionary was nearly ready for publication and likely to become a great success, his lordship wrote to Johnson offering to become his patron; but it was now too late, and Johnson’s reply was characteristic of the man, as the following passages from his letter show: 

Seven years, my Lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on with my work through Difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one-smile of favour.  Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a Patron before.  The notice you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it.  I hope it is no cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a patron which Providence has enabled me to do for myself!

[Illustration:  LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL, WEST FRONT.]

Johnson’s name is often associated with London taverns, but it would be wrong to assume on that account that he had bibulous tendencies, for although he described Boswell, who wrote his splendid biography, as a “clubable” man, and the tavern chair as the throne of human felicity, it should be remembered that there were no gentlemen’s clubs in London in those days, hence groups of famous men met at the taverns.  Johnson had quite a host of friends, including Garrick, Burke, Goldsmith, Savage (whose biography he wrote), Sheridan, and Sir Joshua Reynolds.  When Sir Joshua Reynolds and Johnson were dining at Mrs. Garrick’s house in London they were regaled with Uttoxeter ale, which had a “peculiar appropriate value,” but Johnson’s beverage at the London taverns was lemonade, or the juice of oranges, or tea, and it was his boast that “with tea he amused the evenings, with tea solaced the midnight hour, and with tea welcomed the morning.”  He was credited with drinking enormous quantities of that beverage, the highest number of cups recorded being twenty-five at one time, but the size of the cups were very much smaller in those days.